#edit later: up until recently* would treat him*

[casreturns]

i’ve been listening to this song for a minute but i’m just now realizing how sad it is fr :(

“i remember that you kept tryna tell me, kept trynna tell me i’m moving unhealthy, i wish that something like that would’ve helped me, but like how could you help? i’m a different type of helpless, i know you never felt me, cuz i never told you, i let it drown in henny, codeine in my stomach got a nigga feelin heavy” “i would’ve gave you the the world if you let me” “sometimes i would rather be alone, sometimes i stay away from my phone, sometimes i wonder if she the one” “all this ganja on me got me higher than the sun, backwoods in my lungs, put these pills on my tongue, now these pinks got me numb, i’m off these pinks they got me numb”

[theemporium]

🧸 le monagasque x reader’s daughter taking her first steps inside charles’ childhood home

☕️

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

edit: I’m a dumbass who only realised now you said daughter😭I’m so sorry

.

It had just been like every other Sunday brunch. 

With so many Sundays robbed from his family due to the race season, it became something like an unspoken tradition for the Leclerc family to spend non-race weekend Sundays together. Something lighthearted and sweet. Something that helped him put his family first, no matter what was happening on the race track or in the garage.

Once upon a time, it was just Charles and his brothers making their way to their childhood home. Each boy would have their own role to help their mother. Each boy would laugh and smile and bask in something as simple as a meal shared together which wasn’t as easy when they were all around the world.

And in more recent years, there had been a few additions to the Leclerc Family Brunch.

“He looks just like you.”

Charles lifted his head to see his mother standing by the doorway, a warm and kind smile on the older woman’s face as she watched the sight in front of her. Her son sat on the floor of the living room, an array of toys around him and her grandchild crawling around as he happily babbled. 

“Really?” Charles asked, a little bashful as his mother’s grin widened. 

“It makes me feel twenty years younger,” Pascale joked, a look of adoration on her face as little Adrien Leclerc garbled happily on the floor before tilting his head up to look at her. “He even has your smile. Different eyes though.”

“He has his mother’s perfect eyes,” Charles cooed as he grinned down at his son.

Though you had been more than welcome at the Leclerc household for their Sunday brunches, Charles also knew that you liked to give him some time with his family regardless of what he said. After many weeks of trying to tempt you early on in your relationship, he finally relented and made his own Sunday tradition with you. It started of as a day to just treat yourself at the expense of his card, but soon became your day away from him and Adrien. 

Just a day for you to take a breather from the Leclerc men in your life.

“Ah, Maman, look what I taught him,” Charles announced suddenly as he shuffled back until his back was pressed against the couch. “We’ve been practising.”

“Charles,” his mother scolded softly. “He’s your son, not a dog.”

“But he’s so obedient,” he teased playfully before turning his focus back to his son. He spread his legs open and patted the floor in front of him as he called his son’s name. “Adrien, box box!”

Adrien’s head snapped towards his father and he let out a happy giggle like he seemed to realise what was happening. He began to crawl towards his father, a wide and toothless smile spread across his face.

“My smart boy!” Charles praised as his son continued to crawl across the carpet towards him.

“Oh Adrien,” Pascale cheered with a clap. However, her smile faltered slightly when he started to slow down. 

Charles' brows furrowed together. “Adrien, come on. Box, box.” 

Adrien looked at his father before he stopped fully. But before Charles could even say anything, he was sitting back on the carpet before he began to slowly push himself up onto his feet with the help of the table beside him.

“Maman,” Charles murmured breathlessly, excitement mixed with tears shining in his eyes as he watched his son stare determinedly towards him. Later on, he would be grateful his mother had half the sense to take her phone out while he was so focused on young Adrien.

Charles could only let out a choked, wet laugh as he watched his son take one step and then another and another, and eventually letting go of the table as he took shaky steps towards his father. He could only let an array of mumbled French as his son fell into his arms, quickly hugging the young boy to his chest as he pressed kisses all over his face.

“My smart boy. My smart, smart prince,” he continued to mumble against his chubby cheeks as Adrien squirmed and squealed in his father’s arms. “Oh, I can’t wait to show Mama what you can do, hm? Gonna be a good boy and show her what a smart boy you are? She’s gonna be so excited.”

And truth be told, Charles cried when Adrien walked in front of you too when he caught a glance at your glossy eyes. But he wasn’t ashamed to be emotional about his family.

.

[sky-high-standards]

Yandere!!Fairytale characters!!Dark Reverse harem xFemale reader

I recently edited this

Part 2 here

You always loved stories for as long as you could remember because every night until you turned 8 you had dreams about coming to visit these story book characters but strangely they were your age in these dreams and were incredibly possessive and kept going on about how you would have to get married to one of them when you grow up.

When you were 9 you stopped reading fairy tales and these dreams stopped too.

8 years later~

You where just minding your own business when your mother came in and told you that you had to donate some old toys to a charity shop, you lazily got up and went to your attic where you kept most of your childhood things. As you searched you picked up the story book that you haven't seen in 8 years, a wave of nostalgia came over yo as you flipped through the pages. Suddenly aa portal came from the book and sucked you in.

Story 1 Cinderellis

You found yourself in a castle when someone suddenly bumped into you. You were surprised to see a beautiful woman wearing gorgeous clothing and a crown probably the queen giving you her hand to help you up she apologized and then gasped taking a closer look at you.

Queen: y/n is that you?

Y/n: Um yes?

She beamed and hugged you.

Queen: y/n my dear its been so long you're all grown up and so beautiful!

y/n: Queen Charming?

Then it all came back to you .You where in the castle where you used to play with your old friends Ellis and Johnathan. The queens son Johnathan saw you as a little sister and the queen saw you as a daughter but Ellis was the son of a wealthy man who was very kind and had a close friendship with the royal family. You remember Jonathan was vey protective and teased you a lot while Ellis was very sweet and incredibly shy and was very clingy towards you but he had this dark side and hated competition.

Queen: Just call me Caroline dear.

She smiled warmly at you seeming euphoric to see you again.

Caroline: Come quickly we must tell Jonathan you returned he will be so happy to see you.

So she lead you to the vaguely familiar room belonging to Jonathan

When he turned around you could barely recognize him he really has grown up.

Johnathan: y/n?

You nodded and he then tackled you into a hug like when you were kids.

Johnathan: I knew you'd come back dummy!!!

y/n: You really haven't changed a bit huh Johnny.

After you three caught up you found out Ellis's dad had died after you left and he now lives with his stepmother and his two stepbrothers they stopped seeing him after they met his stepmother.

Caroline the told you that she was gonna plan a ball for your return and to find a wife for Johnathan she sent out invitations to everyone in the land including Ellis and his family.

Ellis's home

Ellis was doing his usual labor because his mother treated him like a slave ever since his father died. His step family now just calls his Cinderellis due to him always being covered in soot. Ellis barely got anything to eat and was always given ragged clothing to wear. His stepbrothers mad sure to make sure he feels and looks terrible because they are incredibly jealous of Ellis because of his looks and all the female attention he gets.

After all these years Ellis hadn't forgotten about you but how could he ever since he met you he had been madly in love with you so much so that he worships the ground you walk on and would do anything to get your attention and much much more to get you affection but after you left a piece of himself left too he was absolutely devastated but he never lost hope that someday you'll return.

When an invitations to the ball came Ellis didn't care but he jumped for joy when you saw that this was for your return finally, he'd see his beloved again.

He told his Stepmother, and she told her sons to try and get you to fall for one of them now Ellis didn't like this and poisoned his family that day, after all Ellis never liked competition.

After the murder he disposed of the bodies he then dressed in one of his fathers suites and daydreamed about how soft your lips where or how happy you'll be to see him he can already picture you running into his arms proclaiming your undying love for him and how you'd never leave him again you'll be his in a matter of time.

Back at the castle

You were getting ready for the ball when a blinding flash of purple light came, and you saw a woman with a wand and beautiful purple wings in front of you.

???: Oh hello dear.

y/n: um who are you ma'am?

???:I'm your fairy Godmother I'm here to help you get back home.

y/n: Why? everyone is so nice here.

She went silent for a moment looking at you sympathetically.

Godmother: Things aren't always as they seem my dear...you have to save Jonathan if you want to make it to the next story.

y/n: WHAT IS HE IN DANGER??!!!AND WHAT DO YOU MEAN NEXT STORY??!!

Godmother: Keep it down, yes he's in great danger and you have a few more stories to complete before you get to go home.

y/n: what do you mean?

Godmother: I mean in each of the stories you will live in you will have a task when you complete it you will be sent to the next story but if you fail a task you won't be able to leave when you were younger you made every one of the male leads fall for you and now their obsessions have grown in an unhealthy way so be careful I'll see you soon.

and then she left just like how she came with without warning and in a poof of purple light.

The ball had begun and you couldn't stop worrying about Caroline and Johnathan. You were shaken out of your train of thought when a young man asked to dance he seemed pretty exited even euphoric and...love sick?

Nonetheless you agreed and he swiftly took you to the the center of the ball room as you two danced you couldn't avoid his stare it was so intense but those gray blue eyes were just` too familiar then it clicked.

Y/n: Ellis...?

He smiles at you and nodded.

Ellis: Did you miss me little mouse?

you smiled back at him and hugged him and he was in pure bliss finally you're back in his arms oh how he's dreamed of this day everything was perfect until he saw those pretty eyes of yours start to lose focus on him as you kept glancing at Jonathan this made his blood boil he was always second place to Jonathan when it came to you he always got your attention but now he's finally snapped he's had enough.

When you left to go check on Caroline he pulled out a vile of poison the very same he used to kill his step family.

Ellis: I didn't think I'd have to use it so soon.

He mumbled coldly.

He was about to pour it into Jonathan's glass when he heard your voice and he quickly his it into his pocket smiling at you, you asked to speak to him privately and he was taken back when he saw you crying and he immediately went forward to comfort you only to be pushed away.

Ellis: Little mouse what's wrong.

You stared up at him with a mix of hurt betrayal and confusion.

Y/n: I saw what you were about to do Ellis...I don't understand, Why would you try hurt him.

Ellis: why? because I love you y/n I love so much that it drives me insane I love you so much that I'd kill anyone in a heartbeat just for your attention I love you more than you will ever know little mouse~

All you could do was look up at him in fear as he caressed your cheek smiling at you with a sickly-sweet smile.

y/n: what happened to you? You were so sweet so kind and so selfless.

Ellis: Oh y/n you happened to me.

you saw a deranged glint in his eyes and his smile turned more sinister.

Ellis: You turned me into this.

At that moment you knew there was no reasoning with him so you had to be with him until you get sent to the next story.

y/n: Ellis I'll be yours if you promise not to hurt anyone else.

You could tell he was more than euphoric hearing those words come out of that pretty mouth of yours it sent him over the edge.

Ellis: I promise Little mouse.

For about 5 months things where perfect for Ellis waking up and knowing you are there being the only one able to kiss your soft lips it was pure bliss until there was a flash and you were gone.

You were falling out of the sky and splashed into the water you tried your hardest to swim but couldn't you were about to drown but you were rescued by a strange being and all you could remember was its voice.

Tell me if ya want me to continue and please give my other yandere stories some love.

God loves you get plenty of sleep and stay hydrated

[nohoney]

okay this kind of like a crack post but this dialogue is based between me and my ex that i would use to sometimes get my way lol

“katsuki, please can i-“

“no, how many times do i have to tell you? we have enough of your damn stuffed animals!” your boyfriend gestures to the macrame net that holds all your precious babies up for display in the living room that you made him install, “i already bought you those limited edition cat ghosts you wanted! and just how many more rilakkuma bears do you need?!”

you’re holding up the screen of your phone towards him but katsuki keeps on turning his back so that he won’t see it and so that he won’t see that cute look you always give when you want something really bad. “but this a special edition sakura one! look how cute and soft and pink it is!” you whine to your boyfriend. you know he’ll give in to you; he always does!

god you were always a sucker for anything cute and pink, whether it be dinner plates or ballpoint pens or another damn stuffed animal. this time katsuki remains strong in his conviction, plopping himself on the armchair and picks up his gaming controller so that he can continue from his last saved game file. “i said no and you’re not changing my mind.”

alright… you didn’t want to have to use this.

“wow… i let you cum on my face yesterday and you won’t buy me a teddy bear?”

katsuki’s controller fumbles in his hand and his eyes are comically wide in surprise. “what the fuck? you sucked me off until i came all over your face!”

“uh you asked me yesterday while we were fucking, ‘where do you want daddy to cum, baby?’” you deepen your voice to briefly imitate your boyfriend before going back to your regular voice, “i told you to cum in me but you went around and said, ‘suck me off until i cum’ and i did it because i love you even though i don’t like getting cumshots on my face but you do.”

“you have got to be kidding me! are you really using that against me? to get your damn bear?!” katsuki is nothing short of flabbergasted.

you don’t back down despite how you want to laugh. “i’m just saying it’s a little unpleasant for me sometimes. you know that when it gets in your eye, your lil swimmers don’t know the difference that it’s not an egg they’re trying to knock up and they actually still treat the eyeball as if it’s-“

“alright! i’ll get you your damn bear!”

two weeks later, you’re holding your new purchase in your arms while katsuki holds you. the three of you (yes you count the bear too) are streaming a comedy that just came out recently that kirishima recommended. katsuki adjusts his arms around you and briefly bumps his hand against the new bear. “you don’t get to use that same reason again to get what you want, i hope you know that.”

“don’t let it get in my eye and i won’t have to.”

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

can you make one with matt murdock where they're good friends but one night they're drinking and having fun and then the reader kiss him but when they making out he ends up saying someone else name and the reader leaves, later on they talk and reader apologizes for misreading their relationship and continue to be friends but theres tension in it until bradley finally admits that he likes her and he try to make up for all the time lost

~Friends Don't Treat Me Like You Do~

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: none really, embarrassment?? Alcohol consumption, mentions of injuries (nothing major)

Genre: mostly fluff very minor angst

Summary: You've had a crush on your friend for a very long time and when you finally make your move it goes terribly wrong; And that's why friends should sleep in other beds // and friends shouldn't kiss me like you do ... // my friends won't love me like you - Friends by Ed Sheeran

A/N: I know it's a typo of some sort but it's sending me to the moon that the name Bradley is jus thrown into this ask cuz I can't even figure out what it's replacing lmaoooo anyway thank you for requesting! I hope you like it anon! :3 (also I didn't edit this plz be nice)

***

Your friendship with Matt Murdock is in some ways rather unconventional. You've been friends for many years, but these days most of your interactions consist of him stumbling over to your apartment at odd hours covered in bruises you don't ask about- not because you don't want to know but because you're pretty certain you've guessed it and you're not sure what acknowledging it would mean. So you don't ask, instead, you give him food, and tend to his wounds, and talk to him about whatever comes to mind until he inevitably falls asleep on your couch for a few hours and sneaks out early enough to go back to his place for his day job as a defense attorney with his two friends. Both of whom you'd consider friends- although not nearly as close as you are with Matt.

Tonight Matt's invited you over to his place. Apparently, he's been feeling a bit guilty that most of the time you've spent together in recent days has been just him coming over in the middle of the night. As if you'd ever actually be annoyed with taking care of your friend. Your friend you feel for more than he can ever know. Still, he insisted you come over for dinner so you did, he ordered your favorite from a takeout place near his place and now you're eating and drinking wine you brought along with you. Well, you're drinking wine, Matt's been helping himself to the beers filling his fridge.

"Whenever you come over I do all that talking Matty so today you can do the talking this time. Tell me what you've been getting up to lately." You tell him once you've covered asking each other how your day was.

"I don't do anything interesting y/n- I go to work, spend all day reading or writing lengthy opening statements or discussing things with Foggy and our clients until ungodly hours according to Karen. Sometimes they drag me out to Josie's but- there's really nothing I 'get up to' and you know that."

"Why do you do that?" You frown.

"What?"

"Make yourself seem so dull when you're not."

"Excuse me?"

"I've known you for a long time Matt and I can't think of single period of our lives where you had nothing interesting going on and yet you always talk about yourself as if you're the color beige personified. It's like you're worried that if people think you're too interesting they'll," you trail for a moment "find out something."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing in particular. You're just way more interesting than you want people to think. For some reason."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You're not exactly an open book either."

"You got something to ask me about Matty?"

"No." He shakes his head. You stare at him for a long moment.

"We should play a game!" You announce.

"I don't really- have games?" Matt says.

"There are tons of games that don't require having anything Matt we just have to pick one."

"Like what?"

"We can play 20 questions- the right way, last letter first letter, I'm not a fan of Ghost but we can do that too, or word replacement- to name a few."

"I'm- not familiar with those besides 20 questions?"

"Well, last letter first letter you pick a category and we name items except the last letter of one item has to be the first letter of the next one so like if we're naming office supplies and I say stapler you'd say something like ruler. And Ghost is a spelling game, kinda like hot potato meets Horse the basketball game- so like you take turns spelling a word and you don't wanna be the one who finishes the word- if you do then you get a letter from the word ghost- first person to finish ghost loses. And then word replacement is just a silly game where you pick a movie or show title and change one of the words to the silliest thing you can think of." You explain quickly.

"Let's do the title one. Requires the least amount of thinking and I don't have to compete with you." He says.

"Then I'll start. Fast and Constipated." You giggle.

"Fast and Constipated!?" Matt's laugh is incredulous.

"Yeah, fast and furious but not so fun."

"Okay um- John Tucker Must... Juggle."

"That's way less fun than him dying." You laugh.

"True."

"What a Chupacabra wants."

"Goats- obviously."

"Shut up." You giggle.

"Now you- resent me 2."

"Oh that's- why would you say that?" You chuckle.

"I dunno I'm too drunk to think of movies." He mutters.

"All I've got are rom-coms in my head and those titles are not nearly as fun to fuck with. Two weeks- paleontologist?" 

"Paleontologist!? What movie was that even supposed to be?"

"Two weeks notice. Duh."

"I don't think I know that one." He frowns.

"It's about a woman who ends up working as the PA for some rich businessman when she tries to protest something he's trying to build- I forget the details but he turns out to be a giant useless manchild and when he disrupts her personal life for something frivolous she tries to quit but somehow they fall in love or whatever. It's been a while since I've watched it honestly." You shrug.

"Rom-coms are such a curious collection of movies."

"True but that one is pretty average compared to some others I've seen."

"Do you watch a lot of them?"

"I like to laugh at them mostly." You say. "You know what's a weird one? The Notebook."

"Is that not like- a classic?"

"I mean yeah but like the guy gets the girl to go on a date with him by dangling off of a moving ferris wheel."

"And that works?"

"Somehow! I mean I guess she didn't wanna feel responsible for him dropping himself off the wheel in front of an audience but I dunno it seems like he was just looking for reasons to die in that movie." You explain. "Although I never finished that movie maybe he does die. Except then it wouldn't be a rom-com I guess. It would be more tragedy, like in the Shakespearean sense."

"You are always somewhere else." Matt laughs.

"Not always! Oh! I brought that CD you wanted to borrow. We should play it." You sit up suddenly and grab your backpack.

"Are you sure all you've had is that bottle of wine?" Matt asks sitting up slowly from where he's laying on the floor.

"Where's your player?" You ignore his question.

"Should be in the bookcase." He waves absentmindedly.

"Do you want another beer while I'm up?" You ask walking over to the radio to pop the CD.

"Nah. I'm good thanks." He says. Music fills the apartment, and you can't help but sing along to the upbeat tune from Matt's CD player. You dance, well mostly spin, around the apartment giggling as you go.

"Are you dancing?" Matt turns towards you with a smile on his face although you're not looking at him.

"Of course I am- I love this song. Do you wanna dance with me?" You ask walking towards him, still dancing but less now so you can get where you're going.

"No no- I'll leave the dancing to you." Matt says before you make it all the way over to where he's sitting on the floor.

"Suit yourself." You shrug but when you attempt to change directions you trip on your backpack still on the floor and go tumbling towards the ground. Matt moves quicker than you'd expect for a blind guy off several beers but his arms shoot out and yank you towards him before your head hits the hardwood.

"Careful y/n." He says softly as he settles you into his lap.

"Do I need to be if you're here?" You joke smiling at him as you toss your arms over his shoulders.

"Y/n-" Matt's tone is warning in a way only he could get away with using on you.

"Relax Matty, I know to look after myself." You say quietly. Matt frowns slightly as if he's going to protest, but you don't let him get the words out. Alcohol coursing through your system, you seize the opportunity of his closeness and kiss him before you can talk yourself out of it. Matt lets out a noise of surprise, he heard your heart rate spike sure but he couldn't have guessed this was why. His lips move against yours for a second before something catches his attention and he's gasping out a name. Except, it's not your name.

"Karen." He breathes and it reaches your ears like a bucket of ice water dumped on your head. You jerk back suddenly.

"Oh my god-" You say scrambling out of his lap. "I- I am so sorry. I'm gonna go." You grab your bag and b-line it for the exit before Matt can even get to his feet.

"H-hang on a second y/n I-"

"I'll- I'll see you around Matt." You force yourself to say before leaving his apartment. You feel sharper than the amount of wine you've had should allow as you walk the few blocks to your place. Only once you're back in the safety of your own home do you let yourself wallow over how absolutely embarrassing that was. You might have just ruined one of the most important relationships in your life only for him to call out for another girl. You stumble into the shower in hopes of washing away some of the embarrassment you feel, or at the very least distracting yourself enough that you can shelf it and get some sleep. You spend hours tossing and replaying the moment excruciatingly but eventually, exhausting wins out and you do fall asleep. The next couple of days you pretty much ignore Matt's calls and texts. You really bury yourself in work to avoid dwelling on that awful night but you know you can't dodge him forever. Evidently, two days is as much as Matt's willing to give you to do so because on day 3 of avoidance he comes knocking at your door late at night as he sometimes does.

"Look- I know you've been avoiding me and all but-"

"Whatever you're gonna say Matt no need. I'm sorry I overstepped, I- I totally misread things the other night but hey- alcohol will do that sometimes. I'm sorry. We're good though. I'm good. I just needed a minute to lick my wounds of embarrassment. Everything's fine. Come on let's see the damage tonight hm?" You lead him into your apartment ignoring the confused look on his face. You let yourself settle back into your routine with him, patching him up, giving him food, getting him up to speed on the last couple of days of your life, telling stories, and just talking until he falls asleep on your couch. You're determined to shake this stupid crush of yours off and go back to the way things have always been between you. And if you're gonna shake this crush step one is putting yourself out there. Which you do, and for the next few weeks you find yourself on dates almost every night. Tonight's date is going surprisingly well all things considered. He'd planned to take you somewhere that ended up being closed after a freak accident the other day that he didn't know about. It was around the corner from Josie's so you brought him here instead and the conversation has been well worth it- even in a place like this. The one downside is that it's Friday and Foggy and Karen usually drag Matt here for drinks on Friday. You had hoped they'd skip out on that tonight but you of course could only be so lucky. When the bell over the door rings and you turn to see Karen leading Matt into the bar with Foggy behind them you almost want to groan. Dating has been nice but seeing Karen and Matt so close is like picking a scab. You turn back to your date with a smile, intent on ignoring the trio, except of course it couldn't be that simple.

"Oh my gosh! Y/n! Hey!" Karen beams at you.

"Karen! Hi! Foggy, Matt, good to see you all." You smile.

"You didn't tell us you'd be here tonight." She says.

"Well I didn't plan on it otherwise of course I'd have let you know." You tell her. "James this is Karen and that's Foggy and Matt. They're friends of mine. They all work together we've- kind of crashed their spot tonight." You tell your date.

"Oh! Well, any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Nice to meet y'all." James shakes each of their hands. "Did you guys- wanna join us? Since it's pretty crowded in here you might not find another table."

"That's so nice of you James!" Karen says. Very nice indeed.

"I'll track down some chairs." Foggy says. You shift your seat closer to James to make room at the table since apparently they'll be joining you. You try not to pay too much attention to Matt's silence as everyone settles around the table.

"So y/n, you told James how we know you but you didn't mention how you know James. Are you guys work colleagues or something?"

"We have a mutual friend that set us up." James offers.

"Oh my gosh! We're crashing a date?! Why didn't you say so?" Karen shakes her head.

"No no no don't even worry about it, we've been here a couple of hours already. I invited you to sit with us so the night could go on." He says.

"Asking me, also would have worked." You smile.

"You guys are just the cutest." Karen sighs.

"I'm guessing this is a first date since- y/n's never mentioned you before." Matt says.

"It is. Not that I have to tell you about every guy I see." You say.

"You tell me everything." He scoffs.

"That's not true and even if it were that doesn't change the fact that I don't have to."

"So you keep things from me?"

"Am I missing something?" James chuckles.

"Matt and y/n have been friends since they were teenagers. They fight like they're siblings sometimes." Foggy explains.

"Sorry about that James. Matt's just-"

"Like a brother- I get it. I have siblings so I definitely know what it's like." He nods.

"Exactly." You smile.

"Like a brother." Matt quirks an eyebrow at you.

"As good a way as any to describe us." You nod. Matt hums and raises his glass to his lips without another word. The five of you sit and talk over drinks for another hour before you're ready to leave and James is happy to walk you out.

"I had a lot of fun tonight." He tells you.

"Even with the date crashers?" You ask with a goofy grimace.

"Heck yeah! Your friends are great." He laughs. "Next time I'll have my friends crash us. How about that?"

"Next time?"

"If you're willing. I'd really like to see you again."

"I- I'd like that." You nod.

"Cool. I'll- start coming up with second date ideas."

"Hopefully this time the place you pick doesn't impromptu have an incident." You laugh.

"I will quadruple check." He tells you. When you reach your block, but not your building, you stop and turn to him.

"Sounds good. I'll see you around James." You smile. He leans forward and kisses your cheek softly.

"Goodnight y/n." He says and walks away. You make it up to your apartment, kick off your shoes, and take a long shower. You enjoyed talking to James and you actually are interested in seeing him again for sure. Soon you're showered and pajamaed and pretty much ready for bed but before you can flop into it there's a knock at your door. Who could be knocking on your door right now? A quick check shows you it's Matt standing in your hallway.

"Matthew?" You open the door with a frown.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Well- right now I'm wondering what you're doing in my apartment."

"Like a brother to you?! Seriously? Last time I checked most people don't make out with their brothers."

"Depends on where you are I suppose." You shrug. "But regardless Matt that was a mistake we both know that." You shake your head.

"A mistake? Is that how you feel about it?"

"How I- I'm sorry did you forget calling out Karen's name while I was kissing you?! Cuz I've been trying to so if you've got tips to share on how that'd be great."

"Goddammit y/n." He sighs dropping his head.

"Matt you really should go. I know you worry or whatever but- James is, nice and it's late I'd like to go to bed."

"Screw James." Matt scoffs.

"Um- it was only our first date- you're skipping a few steps."

"That is not what I- it's like you do this on purpose."

"What are you doing here Matt?" You sigh. 

"I don't like you dating him. I don't like you dating anyone for that matter. How could you kiss me like that and just... move on like nothing?"

"I dunno it's pretty easy when you call me the wrong name." You say.

"That was not what you think."

"I'm sure."

"It wasn't y/n. I'm serious. I could-" Matt stops and lets out a breath. "I'm Daredevil." He says.

"I know." You nod.

"What? You know?"

"You come in here at the witching hour every few days covered in bruises Matt how many explanations could there possibly be for that?" You roll your eyes.

"You never asked."

"I figured you'd tell me when you were ready." You shrug. "Why tell me now?"

"Since I can't see- my other senses make up for the loss. They're like- very developed. I heard Karen scream somewhere in Hell's Kitchen, she sounded like she was in trouble that's- that's why I called out her name. I thought maybe one of Daredevil's many enemies managed to connect her to me. It wouldn't be the first time, I'm always listening for her and Foggy these days and I just-"

"Well was she in danger?" You ask.

"Nightmare." He mutters. "But by the time I pieced that together you were gone."

"Of course I was. Having a man say someone else's name when you kiss him is not something that encourages-" Matt cuts off your snarky remark by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you. You react quickly, kissing him back, your hands wrapping around his wrists. By the time you pull away from him, you're breathing heavily.

"I'm in love with you. I have been for as long as I can remember. I'm sorry I wasn't clear about it." He says.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Well in my defense I've spent the last few weeks trying to get over you-" Matt kisses you again, hard, possessive, fiery.

"Don't." He says.

"Obviously." You grab the collar of his shirt and kiss him again. You spent years thinking you'd never get to kiss him, now that you know the truth you fully intend to take advantage and Matt has years of pining he wants to make up for.

***

[averagejoesolomon]

In light of, uh, recent news I'd like to present a slice of comfort. Please enjoy a couple thousand words of a man written by a woman. The book agent hunt is going well, so I may not be back until the later end of December, but here's a little treat to get you through the wait.

The Cameron-Morgan Wedding (1987)

“Shit.”

Matt’s bow tie droops during the first few notes of the Canon. With a glance down his front, he spots one end hanging lower than it should, slipped through the neat little knot at the crest of his collar and somehow fraying into messy, tattered strands.

This never would have happened if Rachel had done it, the way she always does up his bow ties. She’s good luck. But Abby had been insistent that he not see the bride before the ceremony and notably, Abby ain’t of any help now. Her eyes widen across the way, both of them knowing that Rachel has planned this moment down to second, down to the step, down to the snap of the photographer’s shutter. She has a comprehensive list of every last shot she expects to capture and none of them include a busted up bow tie.

Thankfully, the photographers ain’t looking at him. No one is. As the stringed quintet fills the grand atrium with the classic tune, all 342 attendees take their cue to stand and turn toward the bride. Matt can’t make out any details from his place at the end of a long aisle, but he doesn’t need to. She takes up all the air in the room. She fills it from wall-to-wall, balcony-to-balcony, stack-to-stack-to-stack. The George Peabody Library has 300,000 books and fifteen-hundred first editions, but it’s never felt as full as it does when Rachel Cameron walks through its doors, dressed all in white.

And Matt refuses to look like this, when she looks like that. “Joe.”

“Keep your cool, cowboy.”

Joe’s already at his front, pulling the bow tie from Matt’s neck with the same sort of precision he pulls a trigger. He tucks this into his jacket pocket, right next to the rings, then unloops the half-Windsor around his own neck. Matt’s collar is popped, in a way Rachel explicitly prohibited when he asked months before, but Joe makes quick work of wrapping the new tie into place, tying it into a neat knot, then tucking Matt’s collar back into place. It’s not a bow tie, but it’ll do.

Joe takes his place at Matt’s back once more, tie-less and without enough time to redo his top button before the room turns slowly toward the towering floral wedding arch. Rachel’s halfway down the aisle when Matt looks back up and, not for the first time in their lives, her beauty strikes him straight on.

She’s a fresh snowfall on Christmas Eve. She’s the crystalline frost on the window, catching rays of winter sunlight. She’s angelic. She’s godly. She’s divine.

On her arm, Henry locks eyes with Matt and mimes a subtle tuck into the front of his suit jacket. With a quick glance, Matt realizes the tail of his tie hangs free and quickly tucks it behind his buttons, just in time for the photographer to snap a picture.

_____

The George Peabody Library is the sort of place where a woman like Rachel Cameron deserves to get married, even if she is marrying a farm boy from Nebraska. 

It’s all black-and-white tile, gold-leafed columns, and old wood shelves brimming with books that smell like a stack of newspapers. It’s twinkling lights strung from five stories of intricate iron balconies. It’s low, golden sconces lighting up a crowd of elegant evening wear and it’s a private stringed quintet playing from the second balcony.

This is a prestigious enough event to be covered by the local papers—which is a tricky sort of affair given that half of their attendees are deep in the world of covert intelligence, but Rachel navigates this with ease, and everyone here knows how to dodge a reporter if need be. The invitations had been embossed with real gold, tucked into parchment envelopes sealed with golden wax and addressed to the most important names in Maryland High Society. The governor is in attendance. Both senators. Multiple members of the Secret Service, all of them off-duty, given that the Vice President and Second Lady regretfully declined. Sports stars, and business moguls, and socialites. Rachel Cameron’s wedding is the undisputed event of the season.

Matt forgets about all of this, the moment Rachel smiles up at him.

That’s all it takes. From her, it never takes much. Rachel is made from carefully restrained might, always looking for an avenue to escape. When it finally finds a place to land, it strikes in these dense, controlled bolts of intention, and Matt reckons he could spend a lifetime on the receiving end. One look from her, done up in white, is all it takes to steal him away. To notice her, and only her, even as he stands in a gorgeous venue among a gorgeous crowd.

She’s lace, hand-sewn into her bodice. Satin trailing at her back. There are pearls around her neck, hanging from her ears, wrapped around her wrists. Daisies, daisies, daisies done up in braids, reminding him of the first time he truly met the real and ruthless Rachel. The woman he’s come to love.

It’s them. Only them, right up until the moment Rachel passes her white rose bouquet to Abby and Joe passes a pair of golden rings to Matt. 

Do you, Rachel? “I do.”

Do you, Matthew? “I do.”

Her lips break into a wide smile when they kiss. The strings, and the lights, and the applause all come second to her. _____

As two of Langley’s best and brightest, Matt and Rachel know how to sneak away from a crowd, and they make quick work of it as their cocktail hour comes to a close. The day so far has been a blur of travel, timelines, dresses and ties, and more posed photos than he can count. Finally, finally they find an intimate moment in the chaos, slipping between the fifth-floor stacks appropriately labeled Romantics.

Matt’s only want in the world is to grab her, pull her in close, and steal a moment just for himself. Except his hands are otherwise occupied with two armfuls of satin and lace. “Love of my life,” he says, with some exasperation. “It’s time to change your dress.”

Rachel runs her fingers along the spines of leather-bound books, train trailing as she goes. “Says who?”

“Says you, four hours ago,” he reminds her. “And for the past week. And for the last three months, when you said under no circumstances were you to wear the same dress to dinner that you wore to the ceremony.”

“That’s ridiculous,” she says, scanning the shelves. “Three dresses is a little ridiculous, don’t you think?”

It’s a quick and efficient reminder that this is only her second dress of the night, and the two of them will do this all over again with a third, smaller dress moments before the dance floor opens to the room. Matt doesn’t mind. So far, this small sliver of a shared moment is the best part of the best day of his life.  “I do think,” he replies. “And said so, when you were first fitted for them, but I was told it was rude to decline designers when they offer you a free dress. And also, I was outvoted.”

“By Abby.”

“By you and Abby,” Matt says. “And by your dad who, in my book, counts as five votes.”

“You shouldn’t be worried about my father.”

“M’not worried about your father,” he insists. “I’m worried about you, six weeks from now, when we get our photos back and you’re not in the right dress.” “Because you’d never hear the end of it?”

“Because from here on out, it’s my job to make sure you’re never disappointed again.”

Her wandering finger freezes, casting a long shadow through dim library lighting. The golden glow of the stacks hugs her cheekbones, her jaw, her neck as she tosses a glance over her shoulder. “You really are very sweet, you know.”

He shrugs, and the movement brings fifteen pounds of fabric with it. Arms growing tired, he hangs Gown Number Two from one of the shelves, in a way that would almost certainly make a librarian cringe. “I’m a catch,” he agrees. “Now please let me put this dress on you.”

She studies him, in that harsh, glaring way only she can. He’s come to love that glare. He married her for that glare. He must have seen this exact look a hundred times over and he’ll probably see it a thousand times more—but never again from Rachel Cameron. No sir. Her severity belongs to Rachel Morgan now.

Maybe she feels the shift too, because she softens and nods, collecting her cascading curls to pull them over her shoulder. Her back is exposed, shoulder blades sitting just along a lace seam and casting a shadow like wings. 

Dress Number One is held in place by no less than twenty individual buttons, so he doesn’t waste a breath. He meets Rachel at her back, methodically unlooping one satin button after another, the fabric smooth and stiff along his thumbprint. Inch by inch, the corset falls away and he spots another layer of buttons as he goes—but these ones can’t come undone. These buttons are bright and red, pressed into her skin, following the lines along her back. A full wedding day, etched into her spine, promising to stay through the evening.

He lets his touch linger along the ridges, confirming their phantom existence, and Rachel’s shoulders melt.  She lets go of a breath that she’s been holding all night.

“The poets were wrong,” she says.

With the last button undone, her dress drops into a puffy puddle, wrung around her ankles and revealing the silk slip she wears below. He catches a preview of the garter he’ll remove later, holding up sheer white stockings that stretch to her thigh, then takes her hand to hold her steady. “About what?”

She steps out of the ivory pile, landing square at his front. Her gaze cranes upward when she says, “About love,” she says, surrounded by Keats, and Shelley, and Byron, and Blake. “About how it feels.”

Dress Number One is left abandoned on the tile, while Matt dutifully fetches Dress Number Two. This one trades buttons for ribbons and he helps her step into it before lacing her up. “Is that right?”

He threads and pulls at silk, relishing in the fact that he’ll get to undo these same knots later. Rachel glances over her shoulder once more and says, “I’ve never read a single sonnet that made me feel the way I feel with you.”

And it ain’t fair, the way she looks at him. Like she’s somehow known the whole time. Like she knows everything, and he’s got a lot of catching up to do. Fine, then. He’s more than happy to make up for lost time, and he starts with a kiss—not their first as husband and wife, but certainly their best so far, with plenty more to follow.

They’re late to dinner, but Rachel Morgan seems to glow when she finally enters the ballroom in her second gown of the night. The room cheers, Abby gives a speech, and Matt’s pops says a prayer before dinner.

_____

“Dance with me.”

“Not much of a dancer.”

“You’ll dance with me, though.”

When it comes to Abigail Cameron, there’s not much Matt won’t do. Unfortunately, no one knows this better than Abby herself. She’s smiling that monumental smile of hers, hands falling to either side of his lapel as she steps into time and pulls him right along with her. Together they fall into the sway of an Elton John song, not quite a ballad, not quite rock and roll.

Their practiced ballroom steps feel familiar after spending so much time dancing across the world. “This is the part,” she says, “where you tell me how pretty I look.”

“You do,” he says, and he means it. He’s always thought so, since she first strutted into his life. She’s a good looking girl in a good looking dress, every part of her carefully curated to draw the eye. “I like the dress.”

“It has pockets,” she points out.

“Very handy,” he says.

“Matt, we’re family now,” she says. “You’re going to have to get more excited about my dress pockets. It’s what family does.”

With nothing more than the shape of her step, Matt senses a twirl coming on and he sets her up with ease. He spins her not just once, but twice, because Abby always likes to go for a little extra flair. “We’ve been family for a while now, I think,” he says, pulling her back into their shared frame. “I think you knew, even back then.”

“Back when you were a true-blue farm boy who’d never seen a woman before?” she says with a doting look. “I’ll take credit for a lot, but I can’t take credit for that one. Truth be told, I expected to burn through you as quickly as I burned through all the others. I had no idea what you’d eventually mean to me. To her.”

Abby doesn’t say her name, but even so, Matt can’t help but glance toward Rachel, standing on the far side of the room and chatting with the Secretary of Transportation. The whole night has been like that—finding Rachel, wherever she may be. Landing on her. Lingering.

It must be the same for her because she turns, as though she feels his eyes on her. Catches his glance. Beams.

“When was it?” he asks, prying his eyes back toward Abby. “When did you know?”

Abby studies him, debating. Matt is trusted with Pentagon secrets and espionage of the highest international order, but still she searches his features as though she’s not quite sure he’s ready to hear the truth. “Long before either of you,” she says. “That’s for sure.”

“Abby—”

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I think I have a sisterly duty to uphold a longstanding tradition between bridesmaids and groomsmen.”

“There’s only one groomsman,” Matt reminds her. “And it’s Joe.”

“Isn’t that interesting?”

“When did you know?” he tries again, grabbing hold of her arm before she can step away, and again, she holds her tongue. Tests the answer in her head.

Finally, she lets a softer smile slip. “The first time you called her, instead of calling me.”

There’s something bittersweet in her tone, which Matt only hears because it’s Abby. He’s known her longer than just about anyone here, enough to know that she wants to be wanted. That she stands with the sort of confidence that comes from other people, rather than someplace deep within herself. For Abby, Matt is the one who got away—not in the traditional sense, but rather, in the sense that Matt stopped needing Abby before she stopped needing him. 

Him, getting away from her. What a world.

So he says, with a smile all his own, “Thank you for trying to burn me, way back when.”

She tuts, a manicured hand reaching toward his cheek where she leaves two farewell pats. “Anytime, hot stuff.”

From the surrounding speakers, Elton John turns to Cindy Lauper. Matt is quickly left in the dust as Abby squeals, turns toward Rachel, and races across the room to pull her onto the dance floor next. The two of them find the center of a dance circle made entirely of women, screaming along to “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.” 

_____

Matt slides a glass of good scotch across a bar top. “Thanks again,” he says, “for flying my folks out.”

Henry Cameron catches the scotch at the bar’s end. He doesn’t spare a glance for it, too caught up in watching his girls dance. “A mother should get to see her only son’s wedding,” he says. “And your mother, in particular, is a delight—is it possible my guest room is somehow cleaner than it was the day she arrived?”

“Yessir, that’ll be my mama,” Matt says, ordering a glass of scotch for himself. “I appreciate the accommodations.”

“She may stay as long as she likes,” he says. “And your father was asking about some of the memorials. I thought I might take them downtown while they’re here, if that’s alright with you?”

His parents have a three-week stretch in DC and while he knew the Cameron Estate would take good care of them, he never expected the man of the house to personally show them the sights. “Yeah,” he says, a little too quickly. “Yes, absolutely—you should know, though, that my pops has a hard time walking long distances. He won’t say anything about it, but he’s had a limp since he first came home and he’s never managed to shake it. And my mama—”

Henry lifts a single hand, finally shifting his gaze to Matt. “Rest assured they’ll be well taken care of while you’re away,” he says. “I have a connection or two, when it comes to touring the Mall.”

Matt’s got no doubt. If there’s one thing he’s learned about Henry over the past few years, it’s that he has a connection for everything. “Okay,” he says. “Thank you.”

Henry’s attention falls back to his girls. The space between them seems to grow as Matt runs out of words, opting instead to take a sip from his drink as it arrives. Their relationship begins and ends with the Circle of Cavan, and this hardly seems like the time to talk strategy.

“I suppose it’s the least I can do,” Henry finally says. “You make my girls happy, and for that I owe you a great deal.”

Matt follows his look across the dance floor to find the sisters now dancing arm-in-arm to a ballad, talking and giggling through the slow waltzy rhythm. Rachel swipes dirt from Abby’s dress. Abby fixes one of Rachel’s wayward daisies. They both laugh at a joke Matt can’t hear from this far away. “They make me better,” he admits. “They’ve taken care of me. And I reckon it’s my turn to take care of them.”

Henry nods, in that sage way he passed along to his eldest. “I know that,” he says. “I know you’re going to try, anyway.”

This catches his ear. “Try, sir?”

Henry sips back the last of his drink, letting the glass land hallow on the bar. “Have you given any thought to how you’re going to keep your lives separate?” he asks. “Your life with her”—he casts a glance toward Rachel, then swiftly shifts towards Joe—”versus your life with him?”

Little does Henry know, Matt’s been asking this same question since stitching up Joe in an Italian bathroom, but he’s right. Matt feels it, too. There’s a disconnect between his dreams—between wanting to keep Joe out of his past, and diving straight into a future with Rachel. No matter how many times Matt turns the options over in his head, they end up overlapping. “Every night,” Matt tells him. “Right after I close my eyes, and just before I fall asleep.”

Familiarity creeps into Henry’s expression, and Matt can’t tell if that’s a good thing. “That feeling,” he says, “never, ever goes away.”

For years, Henry has served as Matt’s barometer for what this case can do to good men after chasing it for a very long time. By and large, all those extra years come with benefits—contacts, authority, expertise. But every so often, Matt spots a shadow below Henry’s eyes, signaling some bone-deep exhaustion that feels more and more inevitable every time Matt sees it.

“Promise me this,” says Henry. “Promise me that no matter how long this goes, no matter how close you get—you prioritize her. You make sure she’s safe, above all else.”

Matt considers this. Nods once, definitive. Seems like a fair enough request. Taking the final sip from his own glass, Matt promises, “‘Til death do us part.”

_____

“You know,” says Matt, voice raised over the roar of turbine engines. “My pops gave me all kinds of grief about taking a private jet.”

“What’s the matter?” Rachel calls back. “Haven’t the people of Lake Hayfield ever seen a private plane?”

“I dunno about Lake Hayfield,” says Matt, taking her roller bag to carry up the steps. “But I’ll tell you what, the people of Hay Springs sure haven’t.” 

In a career where jetsetting and globetrotting are commonplace, the only real vacation is spent at home among familiar sights, sounds, and textures. Rather than spend their honeymoon looking over their shoulders in a foreign country, Matt and Rachel decide to keep things domestic, where they can afford to be entirely single-minded about the next few weeks. Someplace safe. Someplace they don’t have to think about.

The apartment, they decided, was out of the question. While Joe may be a discrete and quiet roommate, Matt intends to do some downright indiscreet things to Rachel that will make her anything but quiet. And because he also has no desire to do so under Henry Cameron’s roof, her place was booted off the list just as quickly. 

“Your father’s flown private before, hasn’t he?” she asks.

Matt doesn’t know how to break it to her, that normal people don’t ever see the inside of a private jet. “Not unless you count an Army flier.”

This sends her lips into a puzzled frown, and Matt just wants to kiss them straight.

After some back-and-forth, Matt convinced his folks to spare the one and only home he’s got left. It’s a trade, of sorts. His parents finally make a long-awaited trip to DC, courtesy of the Cameron Estate, while he and Rachel take the ranch. All he had to do was promise to watch the wheat and let the animals out every morning.

Rachel was less enthusiastic about the animals, but Matt’s certain she’ll come around when she sees the first sunset across the plains.

“We should send him back on the jet,” Rachel offers.

“I love you,” he says, “but my pops would sooner die than show up back home in one of these things.”

Matt’s only proven right when he steps into the cabin, finished with fine woods and leathers. A bottle of Champagne waits for them on ice, the label written in French and the vintage starting with an eighteen. The smell of steak fills the air, which is a relief to his grumbling stomach because even though he paid for most of the wedding food, he somehow didn’t eat much of it. It’s the last taste of luxury they’ll have for the next few weeks, so he vows to enjoy every second of it.

He stows her bag, then his. Pops the Champagne, then pours both of them a glass. She holds out her flute toward his, crystal chiming as their glasses clink, and they sip. Take a breath. With the taste of grapes on his lips, he kisses her the same way he has all night, just so damn lucky to be here.

“You know,” he says, barely pulling away. “I’ve always wondered—”

“Matthew,” she scolds.

“I haven’t even said it yet.”

She falls into her seat, digging for the buckle to strap herself in. There’s a subtle edge to her foreboding glance. The one that begs him to challenge her. “You didn’t have to,” she says. “It’s an eight hour flight. We can wait.”

“I’m not saying we have to go for the home run,” he teases, dropping to his place just at her front, down on his knees for her, just as he always seems to be. “Just that if you let me warm up my throwing arm now, I might be able to pitch a perfect game later.”

She laughs, short and haughty and delighted. Her hand falls into his hair, scratching warm streaks into his scalp. “You hate pitchers,” she reminds him.

“I’ve got a third-base metaphor I could use instead.”

“Matthew.”

“Alright, alright,” he says. She’s still wearing her final dress, the shortest of the three. It was made for dancing, and the alternative benefits are a nice bonus. “I can scrounge up a golf metaphor instead.”

“You,” she says, taking another sip of Champagne, “are a smartmouth.”

“Agreed,” he says, just as his fingertips find the lace on her stockings. His lips follow close behind, landing along the hem as his wide eyes search for her answering smile. “So how about we see what else my mouth can do, hmm?”

Another laugh. A lifetime of her laugh. It sends his stomach twisting in all the best ways.

Two of her fingers find his chin, lifting his head up to look at her properly. “Buckle up, so we can take off,” she tells him. “And when we’re in the air, you can help me get this dress off. Fair?”

Now it’s his turn to smile, but he doesn’t hold it long before Rachel’s lips are on his, a smile of her own sneaking in.

[lol-jackles]

Hello, I’m sorry if this gets a bit long. I’ll try to edit it down once I’m done

So, I’m not saying this to downplay its importance to fans or Jared’s truly wanting to help people, but Jared was also very smart to come out with the Always Keep Fighting campaign, no? I could be talking out of my ass I this, because I wasn’t in the fandom at the time, but as well as being brave to share his anxiety/depression with fans, it also seems smart to share it on his own terms before it could be used against him. I think I’ve read on your blog that actors with MHI are often considered a liability to a production because if they “lose it” or walk off of the project, the higher ups are screwed. But, by Jared volunteering his personal information to the huge SPN fan base (and I assume some amount of press coverage), isn’t this a good way the give himself a bit of insurance? If his bosses are starting to think he looks expendable, they can’t now act on any desire to get rid of him without him or even his fans being able to turn around and call them out for discrimination.

I’m not saying these thoughts were the reason for AKF but do you think Jared had the foresight to sort of protect himself with the campaign as well, or was it all risk for him?.

I’m asking this because I read your recent response on possible reasons Jensen isn’t as sought after as Jared post SPN, despite being the clear favourite of some crew on the show.

Jared must have an amazing reputation to overcome the possible mental health stigma, and the fact that some SPN crew seem to blatantly favour Jensen (Wanek, Phil Segricia, Bib Singer, etc).

On a side note: who on the production crew do you think favoured, or even just backed Jared over Jensen? Or treated them equally even?

Okay, this was a lot. But I’d be interested in seeing your insight on any of this (I know you’ll pick what you would prefer to focus on) because from what I can tell, you really do have a pretty good read on what was likely going on behind the scenes.

I think you’re on the right track because it was also my first gut reaction the moment the Variety article came out. For Jared to come out when his career is still hot is pretty telling, normally actor don’t admit to mental illness until their career is drying up.  It’s one less thing he has to hide and therefore one less leverage others BTS can’t use against or hold over him.   

"I wasn’t in the fandom at the time"

During the early season there were rumors circulating that Jared was always late to the set. My first thought was, "They're setting him up to have a difficult reputation". It's producer tactic 101, put out fake news that the actor is a diva who is always late and if the actor doesn't toe the line, escalate it to "difficult actor" so that the studio is not the bad guy if the actor suddenly leaves. 7 years later we find out that Jared was looking to break his contract, so the producer(s) were preparing to make him the fall guy. Once Jared stayed on, the "late to the set" rumor immediately evaporated.

I bring this up because it ties into our speculation that Jared's decision to out himself for mental illness was at least partly motivated by removing a leverage against him BTS.

It was also the right time because he proved that as the principal lead of the longest continuous genre series in America, he's not a risk because filming schedule was never disrupted, which costs a lot of money. Even when he had a breakdown on set in season 3, he still finished out the season. His subsequent breakdown after season 10 could have derailed that, but he returned for season 11 and again lead the show through it's rating resurgence. Impressed, CBS arrived two years later at his doorstep with a holding deal.

"On a side note: who on the production crew do you think favoured, or even just backed Jared over Jensen?"

My immediate thought was Jeremy Carver. He was not in favor of the season 10 Dean-centric arc that Robert Singer and Jensen were angling for, and even tried to head off their campaign during Comic Con prior to season 9. His wife is currently the showrunner of Walker. There's also writer Adam Glass, I'm not sure why but he just vibed being all about Jared.

ETA: thanks to others' reminder, I would also add Sera Gamble. I can't believe I didn't immediatley thought of her as she's one of my favorite writers.

[evolutionsbedingt]

Wip Wednesday Snippet

I have slain the headache! (At least temporarily). And since I'm currently editing the ShangYueZhi you'll get a snippet from Yuanzhi's pov for once. This is set before the rest of the snippets you've read so far!

★★★

[Xue-tongzi finds Yuanzhi sitting on a rock outside of Yue manor, quotes Li Bai's Autumn Breeze at him and then joins him to share a bottle of wine. They get to talking about the recent and long-ago past.]

“So do you remember the beginning of all this?” Yuanzhi asks tentatively when Xue-tongzi hasn’t continued talking. “Like the Feng clan and why they may have left?”

“I’m afraid not,” Xue-tongzi says ruefully. “I believe we must have decided that it wasn’t important anymore and didn’t continue speaking of it. So much happens in one four-year cycle and for me it’s been twenty-five since we settled in Jiuchen Valley.”

“Gege would tell me to treat you with even more respect if he knew,” Yuanzhi says, and it makes Xue-tongzi laugh. 

“According to my body and my memory I’ll only turn eighteen this new year,” he says with a sparkle in his eyes. “If we weren’t both aware of my skill, I’d even have to call you xiongzhang.”

“Your age has caught up quickly with you,” Yuanzhi says, wincing a moment later. “Please forgive this disciple.”

“Hm,” Xue-tongzi says, still with an undeniable air of mischievousness about him. “Enough about me. Why are you sitting here like a lovelorn wife waiting for her husband to come home?”

Yuanzhi rolls his eyes, though he makes sure that Xue-tongzi can’t see it at least. “I’m waiting for Yue-zhanglao to get back from guarding Gege and I wanted to get some fresh air until then.”

“Ah, so you are being a lovelorn wife,” Xue-tongzi says with a laugh, raising the bottle in a sarcastic toast. “Waiting for my shidi to return and sighing about how everything could have been different. I didn’t realise that Zhi-gongzi is such a romantic.”

“I will push you off this boulder, ancestor or not,” Yuanzhi warns, shoving at Xue-tongzi’s shoulder. “And I’m sure Yue-zhanglao would be appalled to hear you suggest something like this.”

“You’re welcome to try and dislodge me,” Xue-tongzi says, still smiling far too brightly. “And, look, there comes your husband!”

To Yuanzhi’s utter embarrassment he whips his head around immediately and, sure enough, there’s a white-clothed figure making its way to them. He hears Xue-tongzi snicker and only spares him one poisonous glance before he gets up and jumps off the rock. His landing is a little wobbly, but he doesn’t care as long as he can personally welcome Yue-zhanglao back.

When the Elder reaches him, Yuanzhi smiles and salutes him, though he manages to refrain from asking about how Shangjue-ge is doing. If Xue-tongzi already thought Yuanzhi is interested in Yue-zhanglao just because he waited for him to return, he doesn’t want to imagine what he’d think if he realised the extent of Yuanzhi’s concern for Shangjue.

“Shixiong, how unexpected,” Yue-zhanglao says mildly when he looks up and sees who kept Yuanzhi company. “I was starting to think you’d grown roots in Xue manor.”

“Well, I’d heard there was a tragic hero mourning the absence of this Elder like a wife who sent her husband off to war, so of course I had to come and take a look,” Xue-tongzi says as he lands next to Yuanzhi, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “A truly interesting young man you’ve taken as your- What story did you tell Xue-zhanglao and the others? That you claimed him as your disciple? That’s certainly one way to put it.”

“Shixiong!” Yue-zhanglao exclaims, clearly flustered and with a blush burning high on his cheeks. “I assure you, Zhi-gongzi simply needed some time away from the fronthill and I thought it’d be an opportunity to further both of our cultivation of herbs and poisons.”

“I see,” Xue-tongzi says, all but radiating scepticism. “You should come by to drink some time, now that I have a body that can handle it. Bring Zhi-gongzi. I’m sure it’d be fun and I promise I won’t tell anyone if he breaks his seclusion.”

“Shixiong is too kind,” Yue-zhanglao says with an entirely insincere smile. “I’ll trouble you for your hospitality some other day.” He turns to Yuanzhi, softening. “Let’s go back before Xue-shixiong gets some other bright idea.”

“Brat,” Xue-tongzi grumbles but then he sighs and cups his hands at them. “I’ll leave first and let you two return home.”

Before Yuanzhi has even fully finished inclining his head, Xue-tongzi has vanished in a cloud of quickly melting snowflakes. 

“Show-off,” Yue-zhanglao mutters, shaking his head. When he looks at Yuanzhi, there’s a smile in his eyes though. “Let’s go home, shall we?”

[genderbinaryisforlosers]

in honour of posting chapter 4 of Stars Maligned, please enjoy this AITA post i wrote in-character for the events of the au

AITA: I told my friend he should pursue what makes him happy rather than what's expected of him?

I (3900, A) recently had a conversation with a friend of mine (4200, M) who we will call Robin. Robin is a very selfless person and it's caused him some problems in the past with giving up things he wants for other people. The main thing is he was pressured into marrying someone (we'll call her Sparrow, 3400, F) by his family. The first time I saw him after the wedding (quite a while after, the craziness with the borders recently means we didn't have a chance to meet up sooner) he seemed miserable and I was really worried about him, so when we had a private moment I told him what was on my mind. I don't see the point in staying in a marriage that makes you unhappy with someone that doesn't care about you and family's approval is not the be-all end-all, especially with how they treat him. I and several other friends have made it clear in the past that we would happily support him if he ever needed to cut them off, but he doesn't even seem willing to consider that it might be for the best.

Anyway, after I expressed my thoughts he challenged me to a duel? He said I'd wounded the honour of both himself and his wife and that if I didn't apologise he would have no choice but to engage me in combat. This seemed totally unfair to me but I really didn't want to fight him over this so I wrote an apology letter - I really put effort in, like I said I did not want to fight - but it seems like he was really set on duelling me because later that day he sent our mutual friend Raven (2700, M/A) to issue the challenge. AITA?

EDIT: You all seem to be being obtuse on purpose. I waited until we were alone to say my piece to Robin, I obviously would never say in front of his wife that he didn't love her, I don't know why you are all fixating on that.

EDIT 2: Alright yes at one point I had feelings for Robin and it didn't work out but I don't see how that's relevant. There are more reasons than infatuation to step in with someone’s love life. His family only rushed him into marriage so quickly because there was supposed to be another wedding that was called off. And since I played some small role in that (long story) I suppose felt I owed it to him in some way.

[comment: truestpinkpeony (OP)]: Okay, answering some questions since apparently you're all incapable of working from "limited information" (I told you a lot but okay).

1. No, I am not the same user who posted "WIBTA if I objected at my friend's wedding (I am the best man)?" I was not the best man. Not even a man.

2. Sparrow seems like a perfectly nice person but she and Robin have nothing in common. She also didn't choose to marry him, there was pressure from her family as well. A lot of you have assumed that I have it out for her or want her out of the picture because I'm in love with Robin (I'm not, we had feelings for each other but that's behind us) and that's not true. I'm sure there are also things she could be doing that would make her happier, I just don't know her and would obviously not comment on the life choices of someone I don't even know.

3. If I didn't apologise after the initial challenge, obviously YTA, that is not what I'm asking. I did apologise and Robin still challenged me to a duel, that is what this post is about.

4. The cancelled engagement was neither his nor mine, and I was not in love with either of the fiancées. Again, people seemed determined to read this in the worst faith way possible. Maybe the parties in question were better off not marrying each other, regardless of how hurt or petty they felt in the immediate aftermath?

5. To the person who asked if there's a history of duelling in our friendgroup, not exactly? But before Robin got engaged there was an incident where my friend (henceforth known as Cardinal, 3100, F) challenged Robin to a duel which then became a duel between Robin and Raven? IDK it's complicated but it all worked out. EDIT: That duel was nothing to do with this duel or Robin's marriage so it's not relevant. Stop asking to hear more about it.

[comment: bilberry_pie_x]: The first duel was over an aborted love confession from OP to Robin.

[comment: truestpinkpeony (OP)]: WTH. Take this comment down and DM me!

[comment: truestpinkpeony (OP)]: Since you will not stop asking about the cancelled engagement, one half of the couple in question is now happily married to somebody else and the other half passed away.

EDIT: NO I DID NOT KILL HIM. I was not even in the room yet.

EDIT 2: I will not be answering any more questions about this.

What are these acronyms?

-

WIBTA if I poisoned my best friend's crush because he (crush) challenged them (friend) to a duel.

All relevant information contained in title.

[comment: surf_n_turf]: We know that's you Cardinal lol.

[nriacc]

I Wanna Be Yours | NRIACC: Alex’s Ending |

Nothing Revealed In A Common Crisis

Written by @imagine-that-100​​

Description: | Here |

Word Count: 25.2k

Warnings: This series contains mature content and themes throughout

A/N: Hey besties! I can’t believe this is it. We actually got to the end! Thank you so so so much for sticking with me whilst I got this fic out, I am truly so so happy that people are still reading almost 2 years after I posted the first part. It really is mindblowing to me. I’ve got a few people I need to thank, dot for helping me plan a lot of the fic and for helping write chap 8, @murderousginger​ and @sunsetinmyvein​ for editing for me. A really really big thank you is going to @red---moon​ and @alovesreading​, I genuinely don’t think this fic would have ever got finished if I didn’t have you two for me to mindlessly rant to about it and giving me ideas and keeping me motivated (Red also gave me the idea for the arielle stuff back on the AM tour and A gave me the idea of the whole pauline storyline so you can blame them for that loolllll love you both). To the rest of you, the ones who have been reading for a longgg time, you deserve a medal, your asks and reactions have really kept me going so thank you so so so much, and if you’ve recently had a binge I really hope you enjoyed the rollercoaster of a fic. NRIACC really feels like my baby and I’m never going to write a mashup of worlds like this again, so thank you all so so much for reading and enjoying it. I'll be forever grateful for the love you’ve shown it. Now, I’ve kept you waiting long enough, I really hope you enjoy Wheels and her man's happy ending. Love you lots and enjoy x

Please let me know | Here | who’s ending you’re all choosing! (It’s all anonymous)

| Series Masterlist | N’s Masterlist | NRIACC Playlists | The Band’s Info | Read on Wattpad | Read on AO3 |

~*~*~*~ June 2020 ~*~*~*~

That night Alex came to get you was a turning point for you. You found this new way of living extremely less difficult with your best friend by your side.

When he got to your flat that night, he held you whilst you cried and he didn’t let you go until your tears dried up and he got you smiling again. You're sure it was the relief to be back in his arms that made you get more upset when he arrived.

It must have been the silent longing for him for those 3 months alone that had you not wanting to let go of him. It was a miracle you released him so he could help you pack up a few of your things to take to Alex’s house with you.

Your best friend assured you that you could both come back and grab more of your stuff at a later date but he wanted to get you back to his house so you could be comfortable. And that night he remembers you clutching him so tightly when he practically carried you into his bedroom and you held him even in your sleep.

That was the only night you slept in his bed, but you did have a lot of quiet cuddles every day where you just held him close and didn’t let him go. The only time you left him alone was when you both went to bed and even then Alex was sure that you weren’t having an easy time trying to sleep.

At the start you were quieter and you didn’t smile anywhere near as much as Alex was used to. You spent a lot of time sleeping or just lying in bed staring into space and it worried Alex so much, he ended up doing what you once did to him. He made you go on a walk with him.

Your best friend wouldn’t tell you where you were going and he found it amusing as you tried your best to pry it out of him but he refused. But your afternoon out in the boiling sun turned out to be one of your favourite days this year.

Alex took the both of you into his local shop so you could both get a meal deal and a few snacks and treats before he walked you to a specific spot in his local park. And he was right in thinking you’d love it. Your face lit up when you saw the huge cherry blossom tree and the both of you had your impromptu picnic underneath it before spending the next few hours there.

You finally got your smile back that day and Alex was so thankful to see it. And since he had seen a slow but steady improvement in you every day.

The morning after your picnic, Alex came downstairs to find you sitting at the dining room table and you were drawing again. Nothing had ever warmed his heart more, and he didn’t want to distract you at all so all he did was quickly go to the kitchen and make you a cup of coffee.

When he brought it to you, he placed a kiss on the back of your head and he sat down beside you and watched you work. He was so enamoured by you, he could have carried on watching you for hours, but instead he went and made the both of you a nice breakfast.

And since then, you always started your morning that way. You finally got your spark back and you started to feel so much better in yourself, and you owed that all to Alex.

Days were happier and somehow easier for you in this weird time of self isolation but when you snuggled into your best friend's arms every night whilst you watched a film on the settee, you knew you’d be okay. You’d always be okay as long as Alex was there to comfort you.

~*~*~*~

Since you actually got inspired to be creative again, you and Alex ventured back to your flat to grab a few of your painting and drawing stuff and you’ve been feeling more like your old self again. And now a few weeks have passed, you’ve almost run out of room with how much stuff you’ve been making, you’re definitely going to have to make a trip back to your flat to leave some stuff there so Alex can have his house back.

Not that you intend to leave because you really don’t. You don’t want to be anywhere else than by your best friend's side.

You think that in the last few weeks, you and Alex have been closer than you ever have been, in a platonic way anyway. Although, your feelings towards him really aren’t all that platonic anymore.

There had been a lot of flirty banter between the two of you since you started living together, and each time it happened it left you with the feeling of butterflies in your stomach and your cheeks heating up. You always tried to bite your cheek to stop yourself from smiling like a fucking idiot when he flirts with you.

It sometimes makes it difficult if you’re cuddling on the settee under the same blanket because all you want to do is hide under it and grin like a lunatic. But you can’t because you don’t want him to know just how much he affects you.

And the only reason you didn’t want to put it all out in the open was because you were worried about what Alex would think. You weren’t sure if he was flirting with you because that's just how the two of you act around each other or because he is actively flirting.

So you’d kept your feelings to yourself for a while in hopes that you’d get some sort of sign. But last night when you got in the bed in his guest room instead of creeping into Alex’s like you so desperately want to, you decided you’d tell your best friend at some point the next day.

The both of you had let yourselves lose your brief moments in time together because you didn’t communicate properly. And you’re grown up enough now not to let that happen again. So you decided in bed that you were going to tell your best friend about your feelings for him.

And when you woke up this morning, knowing that at some point today you were going to tell him made you feel lighter somehow. Yes you’re nervous, but if worse comes to worst and he actually doesn’t like you that way anymore at least you’ve told your truth. And you’ll live the rest of your life knowing you did give it one last shot.

The hardest part of today has been not knowing when to bring it up, because you can’t really just say it out of the blue. It didn’t feel right. You didn’t want it to be an ‘i need to talk to you moment’, you wanted it to be an anxious free and healthy reveal of something instead of causing him to get anxious and possibly awkward with you.

But it looks like you might have to resort to that, because no conversation has taken any of that direction today. Alex has been reading for most of the day and you decided to paint some more as the both of you listened to music. Nothing sparked that sort of conversation though even over dinner so you just tried to stay calm and positive about it.

Now it’s the evening though and both of you got so wrapped up in your little words that you’d missed tea and it was too late for you to cook. So, you ordered yourselves a take out so you could chill out whilst you watched Glastonbury reruns, as the festival was obviously cancelled this year.

You watched Adele’s the night before and you both really enjoyed that. And now, after you both finished your food, you’re sitting next to each other as you polish off a bottle of wine between you, all while singing along and having a blast.

You’d just finished watching David Bowie's set from 2000 and you’d been waiting for Ed Sheeran’s headline set to start, and when it did you were both enthralled.

You have your legs over Alex’s lap and you're both resting your heads back against the settee aimlessly watching Ed’s magic that he makes on guitar. And your heart is warm by the way Alex's hand keeps running soothingly up and down your legs.

Ed has just finished his medley of songs and it’s so fucking amazing to you how he does all of what he does on a guitar and his loop pedals.

“God, he’s so amazing.” You say as your shiver slightly hearing the applause. “I’ve got proper goosebumps watching him.”

“Not you again with the goosebumps.” Alex chuckles a little and shakes his head.

“Look at my arms.” You smile and show him your arm which like you said, your skin is raised and full of goosebumps.

“You need to get a grip.” Alex smiles playfully and shoves your arm back.

You fake a frown and tell your best friend in half a giggle, “Don’t be nasty. I was like that for both of your sets.”

“Mmmm,” Alex thinks about it for a moment but ultimately he shakes his head, “Don’t believe you.”

“Well you know what Alex, I couldn’t just interrupt your set by running on stage to show you.” You laugh and you love the way he grins back at you. You also add, “And if they put your full one on from 2013 on iPlayer I would show you, but no BBC are dickheads.”

“Yeah, well,” Your best friend chuckles but defends, “I can't really say much, they have given us a pretty good platform in the past.”

“You're allowed to slag people off in private Alex, who am I gunna tell?” You grin, paying attention to only his bright eyes and his goofy smile.

Your best friend laughs, “Alright, alright.”

The both of you start watching the performance again and Ed’s just started singing Photograph which is one of your favourites. You both listen for a while but when it gets to the chorus you shiver again hearing everyone in the crowd sing the lyrics back to him.

And you can’t stop the question from leaving your lips to the man next to you who knows exactly what it’s like.

“Is there any way to describe that feeling?” You have to ask, because you remember being astounded hearing the crowd singing back to Alex at his Glastonbury. “Or is it as magical as it looks?”

You tilt your head to the side to look at him. Alex takes a deep breath as he thinks back to it and you watch him patiently as he finds his words.

“It's the best experience ever.” Alex looks at you and tells you honestly, “Nothing like it and I don’t think anything could ever beat it.”

You smile at that and it warms your heart.

“I’m so proud of you.” You quietly say, grabbing his hand that lay unmoving on your thigh

“Only just now?” Alex teases, lacing your fingers together.

You playfully glare at him then and nudge him, correcting him, “You know I’ve always been proud of you.”

Alex tries to hide his smile but he fails miserably and nods, “Yeah, I do.”

Instead of paying attention to the TV, you look at each other with smiles on your faces and you end up watching each other like that for a short while.

But then the both of you feel it. That pull between you again. The one that’s been happening every night you’ve been cuddled together. Or when the both of you are cooking together. Or go out on walks together. There’s always that spark and that pull between you, but this time you can’t ignore it.

You're both just listening to the music in the background and enjoying your view of the others resting on the settee looking into beautiful eyes.

You close your eyes and release a breath which Alex watches you do. He can’t help but think it’s like you’re mentally preparing yourself for something.

Your eyes open back up and you bite your lip for a second before almost whispering “Can I kiss you?”

That isn’t what Alex was expecting you to say at all. But he doesn’t hesitate like the first time you’d ever asked him that question, instead he just nods and watches you closely.

You pick your head up from the settee and slowly move towards him before you attach your lips to his. Despite your lips tingling the second they touch his, you know that this is just something to test the waters for a few seconds.

You can tell Alex isn’t really putting himself forward for it which you understand. He wants to see how you'd react to it.

The kiss starts slow as you really don't want to rush it at all. You aren’t after what you were last year. You’re so far past the need for him in just that sense. You just want to see if there truly is still a connection between you.

You need to know if it’s just your mind playing tricks on you or if it’s actually real feelings towards him. And from the way your heart is rapidly beating in your chest, you can tell they are genuine feelings.

Alex kisses you back with as much enthusiasm as you give, but he makes a conscious effort not to pull you to him when he’s wanting more. He needs you to direct this, for his own clarity.

And he’s thankful you are doing, because you cup the side of his face and pull him closer to you as you deepen the kiss. You feel like you’re trying to get all of your emotions out in this kiss, like you’re trying to tell him something without actually telling him.

And Alex definitely is reciprocating. After a few minutes, both of your breathing becomes laboured. You’re both so into it that it shocks you when Alex pulls away, both of you breathing hard and hearts beating rapidly.

Alex’s brain is going haywire, he’s surprised you can’t hear it screaming at him. But his biggest insecurity is the first thing that comes out of his mouth.

Your best friend runs a hand through his hair as he looks like he’s fighting with his own mind when he looks into your eyes and says quietly, “I can’t do this if you’re gunna go back to him.

You shake your head, your chest sinking at the mere thought that Alex would even think that. But at the same time you understand, so you don’t hesitate to assure him.

“I don’t want him like that,” You promise him, as you really haven’t thought about Matty like that for a long time. “He’s just my best friend.”

Alex looks stressed as he reminds you, “I’m just your best friend.”

“No,” You state simply, “You’re not.”

And he hasn’t been for a long time. There’s always been that ache in your chest that has you wanting something more with Alex. And you wish you could let him feel exactly what you’re feeling to show him.

Your best friend is clearly shocked and he almost looks like he’s trying to wake himself up from a dream. He can’t believe his ears or believe that you just kissed him again.

“I can’t do this if it’s only a one night thing either. Don’t get me wrong, last time was amazing but we shouldn’t have done it. It just made me more attached.” Alex rambles on, getting all of his thoughts and feelings out into the open. “I don’t want you as some now and again girl. That’s not what you are to me.”

“I like you Al. A lot.” You cup his face to try and ground him to the moment and you smile as you spill your truth, “Like you hurt to think about. And even after everything I can’t get you out of my head.”

Your best friend loses his breath when he hears you say that. And he can’t help but repeat what he thinks he heard you say, “You like me?”

“Yeah.” You nod.

Alex looks like he wants to cry when he quietly asks you, “You like me how I like you?”

“I’m fairly certain that I love you Alex.” You grin, putting it all out there for him.

Some mixture of relief and shock floods Alex’s whole system then and you see it hit him. He holds his breath for a few seconds and he has to close his eyes and he’s holding your hand so tightly, you don’t even think he’s aware he has a hold of you.

When you see those beautiful brown eyes of his again a second later, you see him try and fail to find his words as emotions run through him. But then you see his lips turn up into a smile and he begins to stutter, “I- I, wow. I l-“

And you know what he’s about to say but you quickly put your finger over his lips to stop him.

“If you're about to say it because I just have, please don’t. Save it until you mean it, until you really want to say it.” You smile, but it’s like you’ve just got everything off your chest, you feel free saying them out loud, “I just can’t hold it anymore, I’m sick of hiding it now.”

Alex chuckles and you’re sure his eyes are getting a little watery but you can’t tell if it’s just pure and utter joy and elation that’s making him look like that. He takes another few deep breaths and it’s as if his throat has choked up and he’s trying not to cry.

You realise that’s exactly the case when he quietly asks you with a strained voice, “Me? Are you sure?”

You grin and nod, “It's always been you, Alex.”

You briefly see your best friends smile before your lips are brought down to meet it. Both of you can’t really stop smiling as you kiss each other, which is funny and cute all at the same time. You feel like you could burst with the happiness that you’re feeling, but the fact that Alex is kissing you like you could disappear at any moment, makes you think that he might not be fully believing it's happening.

The past is clearly playing on his mind, because when you pull away from the sweet kiss he lets those final insecurities out.

“How can you possibly want something with me after everything I’ve said and done?” He asks you after you pull away.

He’s still emotional, you can see it and hear it in his voice and you want nothing more than to ease his worries. You’ll do everything in your power to show him just how serious you are though, and you’ll happily spend the rest of your life doing it if he wants the same.

“A relationship is just two imperfect people refusing to give up on each other. And I’m not ready to give up on you Al.” You smile as you gently stroke his cheek, “I won’t ever give up on you if you won’t give up on me.”

Alex smiles at that, and he moves his head to the side to kiss your palm before he says a quiet, “Never.” and that has you melting.

“This is it for me.” You promise him, “If you want this, I’m all in. I’m all yours. I’m going to marry you one day.”

Your smile is practically lighting up the whole room for Alex. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so happy and he can’t believe that he’s the cause of it. Alex smiles and chuckles in disbelief, he’s still not fully sure he’s not dreaming. But he just has to ask you one last time, “Are you sure you want this?”

“More than anything.” You nod, giving him the briefest kiss before you tell him again, “I love you.”

Alex grins at that but then he brings his hands up to hide his face and he whispers, “I think I’m going to cry.”

You chuckle, “Don’t cry.” as you pull his hands down so you can see his handsome face again, but when you do you see there’s actual tears in his eyes. “Darling don't cry…” but then he closes his eyes so you can’t see so you tell him, “Shakespeare, look at me.”

When he opens his gorgeous eyes again, you see that they have fully teared up now which makes you want to cry too. “No, stop with the tears, you’ll get me going.”

“All I’ve wanted for so long was to hear you say that you love me.” Alex’s voice cracks at the end of that and he barely gets out, “And you just said it.”

You nod, “Yeah, I did,”

He must tune back into your surroundings for a second because he then gestures towards the TV and laughs as he shakes his head, “And Ed fucking Sheeran is on in the background.”

You giggle at this, nodding as you realise that the end of him playing Nancy Mulligan is on in the background. This really isn’t how you imagined this moment playing out at all, but you’re so happy, you don't really care.

You just laugh, confirming, “Ed Sheeran’s on in the background.”

Alex reaches forwards and holds your face then, both hands cupping your cheeks and he gently strokes them with his thumbs as he tries to take in the moment properly. “Can you say it again?” He asks quietly as a tear falls, “Please.”

You have the biggest grin on your face as you tell him, “I love you, Alex.”

His whole face lights up with the sweetest and most innocent smile then. One that’s overcome with so much adoration and joy, it warms your soul. And when you see him go to say it back, you stop him, “I-“

“No,” You put your finger over his lips, “Don’t tell me today.”

He frowns at you a little then, “But I lo-”

You stop him again, already knowing he wants to say it back and in your heart you know he probably wants to scream it at you, but you want him to tell you when he can’t hold it back any longer, like you’ve been like today. You nod as you smile, “I know, but don’t tell me today. Tell me when you desperately want to tell me.”

“I’m desperate now.” Alex laughs a little, feeling his chest burst with the emotions you’re telling him he’s not allowed to get out just yet.

“I know, but please tell me on a day when it overwhelms you so much it hurts not to tell me.” You ask him, in hopes that he could do it. You explain, “That’s how I’ve been feeling for days. I had to tell you today.”

“You’ve wanted to tell me all day and you’ve waited till now? Christ Angel, it’s almost midnight.” He laughs, and his grin is so big that you’re trying your best to take a mental picture of how gorgeous he looks right now. He strokes your cheek as he asks, “What games are you playing?”

“Absolutely none,” You laugh, “I just love you and I needed to tell you.”

Alex giggles at that, still not fully believing he’s wide awake and this is real life. He’s so beyond happy, he really doesn’t have the words to tell you, especially if you won’t let him say it back just yet.

So your best friend does the one thing that he knows that after what’s just been said, you won’t deny him. He pleads with the biggest smile on his face, “Kiss me?”

You chuckle before you ask, “Thought I was the one that asks that?”

“If you’re mine, you don’t need to ask anymore, Angel.” Alex grins.

“I’m all yours, Shakespeare.” You promise him before you kiss him again.

This kiss feels like it seals the deal. It’s your confirmation that you’re his and he’s yours and your heart is bursting with all the love you have for him and the elation you’re feeling that he wants to give you another go.

You’re feeling euphoric and you know from the way Alex is pouring his heart into this kiss that he is too. He’s still holding your face so that you couldn’t even escape it if you tried, you know he needs this just as much as you.

You’re unsure if you’re only kissing for a few minutes, or if ten end up passing. All you know is that you’re so in love with your best friend, who has quite possibly just become your boyfriend, that you never really wanted it to end. And just when you thought it was about to, Alex bites your bottom lip and brings you back in for another one because he really can’t let you go just yet.

It makes you shiver like it has done every time he’s ever done it, but you knew that was another little nod back to the first time he’d ever done it. You’re thankful he’s always remembered how much you love it and you fully intend to let him kiss you and bite your lip whenever he wants from now on.

Even when your kiss did come to an end, the moment didn’t.

Foreheads resting against each other whilst both of you let your grins free. Your noses playfully nudging the others back and forth in cute eskimo kisses has you quietly giggling, and you keep whispering to your best friend that you love him.

It’s certainly the best night of Alex’s life, and he can’t wait until you let him say it back to you because he is dying to. He loves you so much. And he’s let that love slowly consume him again every moment you’ve had together since that night he came back to you. And he never ever wants to let you go again.

Even when you finally put each other down, you cuddle yourself right into him and Alex holds you tightly and every few seconds he’s kissing your head. Both of you are only half listening to the end of the 2017 Glastonbury set now because you’re just too focused on the mutual love you have for one another and how it feels like it could pour out of your chests.

But one song does grab both of your attention, and it’s when Alex takes your hand as he hears you humming along to the tune of Ed singing, ‘Now I have met an Angel in person, and she looks perfect, I don’t deserve it but she looks perfect tonight.’ that Alex lets out a short laugh.

You look up at your best friend as he sighs as he gestures to the TV, “That’s gunna be our wedding song now and we’ll be the most basic couple on earth.”

That makes you burst out laughing despite it now probably being true. It’s a stunning song and it says Angel in it, and now it’ll always remind you of tonight. But you’re just grinning like a fool because he’s practically said that he wants to marry you.

You lean up to kiss him again and you whisper against his lips, “I love you Shakespeare.” and he hums the words back to you as he kisses you which has your heart melting.

You love each other with so much of your hearts that none is left to protest.

~*~*~*~

Much to Alex’s dismay, you’ve still not let him tell you that he loves you yet and it’s almost been a week. It’s on the tip of his tongue and you seem to know every time he’s about to say tell you and you stop him from doing so. The only time he’s managed to get it out without you stopping him is when you’re asleep and he has half a mind to wake you up just to tell you.

But he gets why you want him to wait to say it. He remembers that tragic day after the night he got drunk years ago where he just needed to tell you that he loved you so he could try and fix things between you. He couldn’t get the words off his tongue like you couldn’t the night you told him, but thankfully the context was extremely different this time.

And Alex has no intentions to fuck things up between you ever again. The morning after you told him you loved him, you both talked a little bit and you decided there and then that you were official. You’re finally his girlfriend, and Alex is so beyond happy he can call his angel his own.

Truthfully, neither of you have ever been happier despite the fact you’re in the middle of a pandemic. The days together and finally getting to be how you’ve desperately wanted to be with each other really make everything better. You have each other now and you’re never going back to how it was before.

It was always going to be impossible for the two of you to just be best friends. There’s always been something more. And now you get to experience and live whatever that something more brings you both, and Alex will forever be thankful that you made the move to tell him you loved him.

Each day since, you’ve been so happy. He loves seeing you smiling and being all bright eyed and creative. It’s one of the things he really loves about you, and he can’t wait to tell you each and every way he loves you when you finally let him say it back.

Alex woke up alone this morning, which isn’t an issue but it’s the first time since you got back together that you haven’t had a lie in with him. But your best friend, now boyfriend, knows you’re an early riser and he can’t have you tucked away in bed all the time like he wants.

He’s just glad he woke up a little earlier sometimes and got to cuddle you whilst you were still half asleep.

Alex doesn’t have to worry at all as he knows you’ve not gone too far because he can hear the music you're playing downstairs. So because he’s that much of a simp and can’t spend a long time without you these days, he quickly gets himself washed and dressed before he comes downstairs.

The instant he sees you, there’s a smile on his face and it just gets bigger as he sees you dancing to the riff of the song you have on as you cook. When you finish singing the chorus, Alex watches as you dance to the instrumental part of the song and when the drums kick back in you start jumping around having a really good time.

He can’t stop himself from watching you and grinning. But just before the song kicks back in, Alex makes his presence known and he says over the music, “Morning Angel.”

You spin around to see him leaning against the wall with a grin on his face, clearly having a great time watching you. But then the lyrics come back and you point at him and start singing the song to him, “You look so cool, standing there.”

You walk towards him quickly, the smile sticking on your face now as you hook your finger into his belt loops and pull him towards you, “With your baggy jeans,” and you run your hands up through his hair, “And silky hair.”

Both of you grinning at each other, you wrap both your arms around his neck and carry on singing, “We can live for nothing baby, I don't care. Lose me like the ocean, feel the motion.”

And you make him move to the beat of the music as you sing the chorus to him at the top of your lungs after you give him a quick kiss, “I’ll be the sea honey, always always, and you’ll be the tide.”

You’re giggling like fools in love when you carry on dancing as you sing the outro. And when Heather stops singing, you pull your man down by his hair and you kiss him sweetly.

You can’t stop the smiles on your faces but being unable to stop smiling as you kiss each other really isn’t unknown between you anymore. It’s all you’ve been doing this past week.

After The Tide by Pale Waves finishes, Alex is smiling down at you as he asks, “What’s got you all happy?”

“I woke up next to you.” Your eyes are bright as you keep him close and tell him about your day so far, “The sun is shining. I'm feeling creative, I’ve already finished one poem and painting this morning. The day is good.”

Alex kisses you again then and he hums against your lips before he pulls away to say, “Let go of me so I can see the painting?”

You smile and do as you’re asked. You let him go and go back over to the hob so you can finish making the both of you breakfast as you tell him, “It's on the easel by the back door.”

After a few minutes, you feel his arms wrap around you from behind as you plate up both of your Full English’s for your brunch.

“My girlfriend is so talented it injures me.” Alex says as he leans around you to kiss your temple.

Whilst you think he’s very cute to say you’re talented, you decide to tease him for saying it injures him, “Maybe you and your fragile masculinity should write another album then.”

Alex’s jaw drops a little which makes your facade break. You giggle and lean back into him, “I’m joking, I’m joking.”

“Next year maybe.” Alex tells you after kissing his way up from your shoulder to your neck, “Focus on everything usthis year.”

You hum in agreement, and you turn in his arms as you tell him, “Sounds like a great idea.” and you quickly kiss him before you pat his chest, “Come on, let's eat.”

Brunch was delicious, as your cooking always is and both of you sat at the dining room table whilst you ate. The both of you chatted about the morbid news that the world is experiencing and the latest Covid figures that the government has released and you both wonder how the fuck the world is going to get out of the state that its in for a while.

But, the two of you are no help to anyone. You’re just hoping that Charlie is still doing okay as he is still on the frontline with all of this. It reminds you that you need to call Y/B/F today and actually have a proper lengthy conversation so you can make sure she’s alright.

When you get up from the table to put the plates in the dishwasher (you wouldn’t let Alex do it), your boyfriend finds himself longingly looking at the leather bound diary that contains all of your secrets. It reminds him of just how much he would love to read any poem of yours. He really hopes you’ll let him one day, even if it's years from now when you’re married and going grey, he really hopes you’ll let him.

Curiosity gets the better of Alex and he nods at your diary when you come back into the room, “Did you say you wrote a poem this morning?”

“I did.” You smile brightly at him, the sun hitting your face from the window making your skin have a golden tint to it. You look stunning.

Alex hums acknowledging what you told him, he grins when you walk around the table and sit on his lap instead of your chair. Stealing a quick kiss from you makes Alex smile and he also pushes his luck the tiniest bit, asking cheekily as he slides your poetry diary closer to the both of you, “Can I finally read some of these?”

You chuckle at the way he pouts at you, the silent plea on his face is quite amusing. But what is even funnier to you is his reaction to what you say next.  

“You can read them all.” You nod, “But just bare in mind that’s like two decades worth of my feelings.”

Your boyfriend’s jaw falls and his eyes go wide. It clearly takes a second to register because the next thing you know, his eyebrows are furrowed slightly and he asks, “Wait, what?”

“What?” You giggle, finding it quite amusing how shocked he is.

Alex picks up your poem diary properly now and holds it in front of you and asks seriously, “I can read this?”

“I don’t have anything to hide from you anymore.” You nod, confirming he can if he’d like to. And to ease your now clearly anxious boyfriend, your fingers gently play with the hair on the back of his neck, “You’ve been asking since we were teenagers, I think you’ve waited a sufficient amount of time.”

Alex is entirely lost for words. This book that he has seen for the past decade of his life has plagued him as he has been desperate at different moments in time to see what you’ve been scribbling down onto the pages of it. And to finally hear that he can read it without consequence is a real shock to his system.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You nod.

Alex looks at the leather diary then like he’s never opened a book in his life and he doesn’t know what to do with it. His hesitance makes you smile, but you think for your own sanity if he does want to read it, which you know he does, you need to do something for yourself.

“Before you do.” You get your best friend's attention again and you ask, “Can you please read and process them when I’m not here? I’d rather you take it all in and then you can ask questions afterwards if you have any.”

Alex questions, “Not all sunshines and rainbows then?” and his heart sinks a little as he’s sure of the answer you’re about to give.

“Has my life been all sunshine and rainbows, Al?” You raise an eyebrow but try to keep the mood light.  

“No,” Your boyfriend shakes his head and takes a deep breath before admitting, “And I’ve not helped with that, I’m sure.”

“Don’t beat yourself up Al.” You tell him, giving him a small smile and you gently stroke his cheek as you tell him, “I love you now because I’ve been through everything you’re about to read.”

Once it’s established that Alex does in fact want to read it, you send off a few texts and when you get responses, you grab a few things before you get yourself ready to head out. And once you’re at the door, you tell Alex what your plan for your day is, “I’m going to go for a long walk, meet up with Adam for a socially distanced chat at the park and then have a nice long talk with Y/B/F whilst you read, okay?”

Alex wraps his arms around your waist and he hides himself into your neck and he kisses it once before offering, “You can stay here if you want? I’ll go out.”

“And you lose my poetry book? Absolutely not.” You giggle a little and you give his hair a little tug so you can give him a kiss. “It’s a nice day, I wanna get out anyway so it kills two birds with one stone.”

“I love you so much.” You kiss him longingly and lovingly, “I’ll see you later.”

“I-” And your best friend tries again.

But you quickly silence him with another kiss and tell him, “Don’t say it until after you’ve read my poems.”

Alex looks hopeful when he asks, “I can say it after?”

“Yeah, I think I've made you wait long enough for that now too.” You grin, loving how excited he is at the thought of saying that he loves you. But you jokingly big yourself up, “Besides, I have a feeling that you’ll be desperate to say it. I have a way with words.”

Alex chuckles at that, but before he lets you go he raises his little finger to you and asks, “Afterwards?”

You smile and hook your little finger around his in a pinky promise, confirming, “Afterwards.”

~*~*~*~

The way Alex’s heart is beating as he paces in front of the settee, which your poetry diary is currently lay on, is frankly concerning considering all of his nerves are being caused by what a pen has written on paper. It’s been 15 minutes since you’ve gone out and Alex hasn’t yet found the courage to open it.

But he realises that he needs to just bite the bullet. He’s been asking to read your poems for so long, he doesn’t want to back out of this now. Alex wants to know the ins and outs of your mind, and this is the closest he’ll ever get to that. So after a few deep breaths, he forces himself to sit down and unwrap the leather diary and he opens it on the first page.

Alex smiles seeing that it's not only your words in this book, you have doodles in there too. Stunning ones, just like all your drawings but these are quirkier and on this page he knows they must be from a long time ago.

On the first page he sees your full name written down, your telephone number which has clearly been updated the few times it’s needed to be. And then you have a bigger note that reads:

If lost: Please call the above number and claim your £5000 reward.

It makes Alex relax a bit reading that because that’s a very you thing to do. He knows that if this book went missing you’d probably pay double that to get it back. And after a deep breath, your boyfriend turns the page to start reading properly and he finds it easier than expected, for now anyway.

After reading a few of your earliest ones, Alex spots the small way you’ve coded out your poems. The date is the first thing at the top of the page, but then in the top right hand corner, you have initials of who the poem is about.

The few he’s read he knows from the initials that there are some about your Mum. Other heartfelt and longing ones about your Dad that almost have Alex tearing up.

There are happy ones too, some that don’t necessarily have initials because they aren’t about anyone in general, they are just about how you’re feeling.

Even reading these from back when you were in high school and college, Alex knows that you’re amazing at what you write in this book. And if your writing was this good when you were half your current age, he knows you must be even better now.

Once Alex figured out your code, he decided that he wants to respect your privacy a little more, so instead of reading everything you’ve written, he searches for his own initials. And your boyfriend stops when he sees the first A.T. in the right corner of your book. Alex sees that you’ve dated it late July 2002 and then he goes on to read:

Thank you for making me

feel things I thought I

never could

It’s short and simple, but Alex knows already that you must have been talking about the night you first slept together then. It sort of hits him all over again just how deeply you clearly felt about the milestone in your lives as he never expected to read you thanking him for it.

Alex flips a few more pages until he stops when he sees a polaroid of you and all the 1975 boys in a swimming pool. You’re all grinning like idiots and he can see that you’ve all signed the bottom of it which is a very you thing to ask all of them to do. But he smiles when he reads the poem on the page the picture is in between.

It’s about him, and about how there’s a trace of him on your neck that you’re getting teased for, but you’re saying it’s all worth it because it’s your reminder of what's waiting for you back home. When Alex looks at the picture again, he can see the faint bruise that he remembers sucking on your neck in Matt’s bedroom all those years ago at that house party. It makes him smile, seeing you look like you did back when you first got together, as you don’t look that much different now. You’re still as beautiful as ever but you’ve matured and grown into your beauty. And you have tattoos now too.

There were a few poems about Alex from that summer, that he finds himself smiling as he reads. But the first one with A.T. in the corner that knocks that smile from his face is one that hits him square in the chest.

Is my timing wrong

or am I just that hard to love?

Maybe I’m just

not good enough.

You thinking that you’re not good enough injures Alex’s soul, because it was never that. Alex was just a moron who got caught up in another girl who was actually in front of him for that whole summer who gave him attention and he never should have done it. He should have waited for you to come back home. He wishes he did.

Alex can’t help but think that this will probably be the easiest one of the heart aching ones that you’ve written about him. And the fact this already has made his heart sink probably isn’t the best sign.

Your poems move on to being about Peter after that and they stay that way for a lot of pages. Alex flicks through them, not really paying too much attention to anything you write about your first boyfriend, but when Alex sees M.H.he pauses.

Nothing is wasted.

Things happen for a reason.

A kiss should be simple,

but the taste of you on

my lips that night (searing)

a beautiful complication

Simple? Then why does

my heart long for you

when I’m locked to him.

Alex quickly recognises that you must have written that when you kissed Matty whilst you were still going out with Peter. And at the same time Alex realises he can’t put himself through reading the poems you’ve written about Matty, whilst it’s beautiful, he knows he can’t do it. He promises himself this will be the last one.

The next Alex finds with his own initials on it is dated a few days after your 21st birthday. And this one was about how sweet you thought it was that he kissed you. After that, there’s endless pages that are about Matty and there are somany.

Whilst Alex is searching for his next one, he comes across a photobooth strip of pictures where you and Matty are kissing each others cheeks before finally kissing each other properly in the final photo tucked into one of the poems about him, but Alex has to skips over your words about your ex.

The next A.T. is dated early November 2007, so Alex knows that this is bound to be when you were on tour with him. And Alex knows it must be because from the context of the poem he knows that this must be about the night you finally slept together again.

Supernova

Boy you are a wild thing,

a supernova, a rush of

blood, burning desire.

(Angels could never)

You light up everything

you touch & set my

body electric.

Me and you?

Hearts true,

skin brand new.

Alex reads this one over and over again. He selfishly knows why he repeats the poem, because he knows that when he turns the page it’s going to turn nasty. Because he was so beyond nasty to you back then.

It’s still one of the biggest regrets of his life, leading both you and Alexa on. He should have never done that to either of you, but especially you. He was so stupid to disregard you like you were nothing and it will always be a splinter in Alex’s soul that he’ll never be able to get out. Just like the way the guilt is always slowly eating away at him but he buries it down these days. But reading your poems that follow make that guilt wash over him all over again.

When he turns the page, he finds it dated it dated early December 2007 which Alex knows is after you left the Favourite Worst Nightmare tour after what he did and he takes a deep breath before he reads the poem you’ve titled Betrayal:

You don’t understand

how a piece of you exists

within me. It hides convert,

burrowed in my centre.

My love, my love, my love,

I have learned to romance

ghosts with you: Men who

are all fucking talk and

zero substance. I have

learned a heart can be

feint, untouchable - even

when gripped in a fist.

I have learned you are

not mine but I have

always been yours.

Ours.

I don't understand why

I can’t kill the piece of you

that makes my heart shake.

I don’t understand how

you can look for more in her

when I have cracked open

my ribcage for you.

It makes Alex tear up, and so do the ones afterwards. There’s at least ten from December 2007 and they all progressively hurt more and more as Alex reads them. But he knows you felt so much worse than he does whilst he’s reading them and on some level he knows that he has to read them all because he deserves to feel the pain after he caused you so much more in the past.

Nothing truly gets him like the last one from that month though. You wrote this one after Christmas, the first christmas he remembers you not being at home for, and his one is called Devastation and it hits him even harder.

You are with me

in dreams sweat-soaked

and electric.

You are the reason

for this ache,

this heart burst open.

When I think of you,

the knife twists and

youyouyou,

you cripple me

even still.

You are beyond forgetting.

You are ingrained in

my blood.

What I don’t understand

is why I still care?

I am a car crash when

it comes to love:

Even when my head hits

the dashboard, I spit out

my teeth and

ask if you’re

okay.

It makes him feel sick, especially reading the end of it. The mention of a car crash wounds him as he knows what pain you went through years after you wrote this on paper what a car accident would do to you. And the fact he made you feel as if you were going through something that you later would find out to be the worst pain of your life, makes him start crying.

He’s not entirely sure how long his head rests in his hands and he cries about the way he once made you feel. Your best friend knows it’s a long while and he forces himself to read all of the sad ones before he lets himself move on.

He deserves to feel every once of your pain that he put you through. And Alex really doesn’t know how you managed to forgive him time and time again.

When he finally gets back to grips and he’s not crying anymore, Alex flicks through again, there’s a few more about Matty before they move on to being about Kyle for a while. There’s the occasional one about your friends and there's a platonic one about Alex dated in 2009 about distance and about how you send each other books.

After that a few more crop up about him that show how worried you are about him that were from 2010, after his split with Alexa and he came to stay with you. And there’s more about Matty afterwards. In fact, Matty takes up the majority of the next fifty pages which makes sense considering you were with him for so long.

The poems got Alex emotional again when it reached the year you had your accident and when you split up with Matty. Alex expects there to be a lot in there about the accident, but considering what happened with Matty, he realises that pain combined with the accident merged into one, so he still doesn’t read the ones with Matty’s initials in the corner.

One of them, though, doesn’t have any initials on it. And it’s the simplest poem but it hits Alex square in the chest.

I keep wondering

how sad do I have to be

for someone to stop insisting

everything is going to be fine?

Maybe it hits him because Alex thinks of himself as that someone who kept reassuring you at that point in your life. Despite you not putting any initials it really does seem like it could be about him.

Your poems stay about Matty for a while then, and he sees the dates move to when the AM tour started. At the beginning of that year there were a few more about Matty, probably how you felt betrayed by him going after Alex’s exes but he again skips over them until he finds his initials again. And he smiles when he does.

There are a few cute ones about the two of you getting closer again, some that suggest you want to see if you can be happy with him but with nerves because of what happened last time. They are really cute, ones that Alex wishes he could reread over and over again, but his favourite happens to have something else alongside it.

Alex opens that page and a polaroid falls out of it, one that he hasn’t seen in years but he remembers taking it. The picture of your silhouette as you sit on the decking above some American lake, and the sky is full of colour. Yellows, oranges, and reds all blurring into a stunning sunset, with the reflection of it on the water but you’re at the centre of it.

Seeing that the poem is the one that you wrote when you were sitting in his arms makes Alex’s heart beat faster, and this is definitely his favourite when he reads it.

Back To Life

This is the truth:

You touched me and the

universe fell back into place.

With you I feel infinity and

I wonder how many lives,

galaxies and red-hot nights

will live in our shared bloodstream.

Because it all boils down to

this sweet boy:

You have brought me

back to life.

It really hits him hard that one, and all of the ones after that ooze that you’re falling in love again. And knowing what happens makes Alex’s heart ache, he really could have had you be his back on tour if he’d have just asked you. If the both of you had just been direct like you were last week, you could have been together for 6 years.

Alex guesses that is at least one blessing of growing up. You all learn from your mistakes in an effort not to make the same ones again, and he’s so thankful he can finally call you his.

If he’s remembering the dates correctly, Alex reads another one that is from when you both came back home from the AM tour that is about him.

I learned to love

the most important parts of me,

because you did.

All my fear, anxieties,

quirks, and insecurities.

I overcame the struggle

because you held out

your hand and

offered to walk with me.

Whilst that warms his heart, the ones of heartbreak come next. Ones where you said that you let him go because you couldn’t be selfish to make him stay for you. Others of longing and the pain at him being so far away again and it makes Alex regret that move to LA in 2014 even more than he already did.

Reading the ones about both him and Matty make your constant heartache back in 2016 a bit easier to understand. He can tell from the way you write that you’re so confused by what you’re feeling for two different people and how overwhelming those emotions were for you. Alex starts crying at some of them because of how broken you sound in them. It made him wish he never put you through the stupid triangle.

Then the poems reflected on your 30th birthday party and the ones about him hurt him a fucking lot to read. Again, he deserves to feel that pain. It’s another of his biggest regrets to this day that he’d said that about you and used your virginity as some badge of honour. So when he reads about you actually forgiving him, he cries again in relief.

But then it gets to 2017 and something else trapped in the pages falls onto Alex’s lap. A letter.

One that just reads ‘Y/N’ on the front of it in someone's handwriting that he doesn’t quite recognise, but he knows he’s seen it before. But then it clicks after he thinks why you keep a letter in your most prized possessions, it’s important to you and important enough that you wouldn’t want to lose it. And it’s then he realises it must be the letter that Matty gave you, the one that ended up with you sleeping with your other best friend again.

For years it’s plagued Alex on what could be written in that letter - the one that's now in his hands - that made you rush to Matty and sleep with him again. It kept him up at night thinking about it in the days after you told him what happened.

He wants to know, he really does and when it clicked what it was there was no doubt in Alex’s mind that he was going to open it and read it. But when it comes to him even opening the envelope, he can’t do it.

Alex can’t bring himself to betray your trust like that. It’s unbelievable enough that you’ve even let him open your poetry diary, he can’t just open something that you’ve kept private for so long.

He trusts you enough with what you’d told him in the past and what you said last week that Matty is just your best friend. You will have had your reasons for why you got with him back then and he’s sure this letter in his hands would make him understand. But that can stay between you and Matty. Alex makes his peace with that there and then as he tucks the letter back into the pages of your diary before he starts searching for his initials again.

The 2018 poems begin and the months where you and Alex got together again the time it almost led to a proper relationship have your boyfriend really happy to read. Your writing is astounding and how you convey your feelings through your words is insane.

But Alex knows he’s about to fuck up and hurt you again. And when he reaches the poem where he does, it upsets him again.

In another life

I swallowed every reprieve

and instead

offered you a mouthful

of loathing.

Just not in this one

As he’s been reading all of the ones after this about how hurt you were after he called you what he did and you decided you didn’t want to be with him anymore. Again, entirely fair and he deserves to feel like this as he reads the following ones that also cover that heartbreak.

He reads the other ones that cover 2018, not many more are about him other than one about you meeting accidentally in your spot at the park that day.

The poem you write about your one night stand in January 2019 is amazing. You write about sex like it’s electricity and he can feel the ghost of what happened in his veins as he reads.

He wishes that you were ready for a relationship back then because he would have asked you if you wanted to settle down. It would have saved him the waste of time that was the rest of 2019 for him anyway, and he could have been with someone who actually appreciated him for the person he is instead of being used like he was. Another regret of his will always be that he foolishly didn’t believe what you said about his ex and that he hurt you with that.

The poems that start with the beginning of 2020 are beautiful and happy, but the ones that come after march are bitter in comparison. Your poems turn lonely and sad and it’s so blatantly clear to see that you weren’t doing too well. As Alex reads he can see tear stains on the old battered book that holds your emotions just as clearly as your words.

He too is balling his eyes out reading how broken you feel and he wishes you phoned him sooner than you did. He promises himself that he will never ever let you feel as upset as you clearly were for those few months and he will make sure he does that for the rest of his life.

Alex notices the dates get even more recent now. One a day after he picks you up and it's as if a light had been switched back on and you found your happiness again. And then he reads ones that slowly hint that you’re falling back in love and you say that it’s been dormant for a while but it's always been there. It makes your boyfriend emotional as his heart feels like it could burst. But then he reads ones that have been written this last week, where each of them have that A.T. in the corner and your boyfriend can’t stop crying.

21/06/20

Those little moments,

with my head on your chest

and your fingertips

drawing circles

on the base of my neck.

They are the tiny moments

you are more than my home;

you are my entire world.

~~~

22/06/20

If I were to build a house

I’d have your arms as the walls

Your eyes as the windows

Your smile as the front door

Your heart as the fireplace

And your soul as my light

And in this house

I’d place my faith

Knowing I’d finally

Found a home

~~~

23/06/20

My pen could write

for a thousand people

but it never smiles about them

the way it does for you.

I love you Alexander Turner,

my Shakespeare,

my Darling.

So much.

And then the pages go blank. You wrote that you loved him this morning and even though you’ve said it a hundred times this past week it still doesn’t seem real.

Alex closes the book and puts it down before he just lets himself cry. He’s so overwhelmed with everything that you’ve written that all of his emotions are blended into one and he just sits and cries.

The only thing Alex can make sense of is that It seemed like you both caught feelings for each other even harder at different paces. You caught them immediately whereas Alex noticed them properly about a year later and he made messy life decisions after that.

And after that you’ve been missing each other until you finally got brought together now. Alex is so beyond thankful that he has you now and he will never ever take that for granted.

He’s unsure how long he sat there reading, and now crying, but it’s long enough that you’ve made it back home. Alex hears the front door open and you’re humming as you walk through the door.

Hearing your small, “I’m home.” somehow makes him even more upset, but he can’t not get up because he needs you back in his arms now. As Alex turns the corner, you’re taking your AirPods out and putting your keys on the side and he tears up more just looking at you.

You didn’t even notice your boyfriend was coming up to you until the second before his arms wrapped around you and he gave you the biggest hug he ever has. It’s a lovely embrace that has you smiling, but it quickly turns worrying when you feel his shaky breathing and you realise he’s crying.

Just as you’re about to ask if he’s okay, you hear his choked up voice tell you, “I love you so so much, Y/N.” as he hugs you tightly.

“Alex,” Your arms wrap around him, instantly worried he’s had some bad news whilst you’ve been out. “What's wrong?”

You feel him shake his head as he cries into your neck and he just holds you tighter and “Nothing, I just love you.”

“I love you too, Al.” You promise him, giving him a big squeeze and you run your hand up and down his back trying to comfort him and coax him into telling you what's wrong.

You’re a little worried about him when he just cries for a minute in your neck before you start worrying that something bad actually has happened and he’s not telling you, “Alex come on, what's happened? What’s wrong?”

“I just read everything and I-” He chokes up when he pulls out of your hug briefly for him to wipe the tears from his face as he stumbles over his words, “I don’t know Angel. I’m overwhelmed and I-” He has watery eyes and you can tell just how much he means what he’s saying when he continues, “I just love you so much Angel… I’m so sorry I hurt you for so long.”

“Al, don't apologise.” You shake your head, and reach up to wipe his tears away, “I’m fine, I’m okay.”

“I just love you a lot. I'm so, so, so beyond sorry I put you through all that.” There’s no stopping his tears yet, and he looks broken when he cries in a choked voice, “You must hate me, I'm so, so, so sorry.”

“Alex no,” You promise him, “It's okay.”

He sounds broken when he says, “I don’t understand how can you love me when I made you feel like that?”

“Do you remember what that really clever man once said?” You ask him as you wipe his tears and he sniffles, shaking his head slightly to answer your question.

“‘The course of true love never did run smooth’, Al.” You quote A Midsummer Night’s Dream at him, before you go on to say, “I love you more now because of it all… You know I love you, you’ve just read how much I do. Please tell me you made it to the end.”

Alex nods, confirming he did, but he sniffles, “I don’t deserve it.”

“If you made it to the end then you’ve read how much I love you.” You smile at him, and the small smile he gives you back warms your heart. You really want him to believe you.

“We deserve to be happy, Shakespeare.” You wipe away the fresh tears that spill down his cheeks as you tell him softly, “It’s time to let it all go. It’s me and you against the world now.”

“Are you sure you want that?” It almost breaks your heart when you hear him ask that. “Want me?”

You nod, promising him, “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

Tears of relief seem to flood his eyes then and he smiles at you as he savours the feeling of you gently brushing his cheeks as you look up at him with such a loving smile.

He wraps himself up into the biggest hug again and as you lean your head against his, he says, “I love you so much Y/N Y/L/N.”

You smile as you whisper into his ear, “And I love you too Alex Turner.”

~*~*~*~ Mid July 2020 ~*~*~*~

“Curly, hey!” You smile as you answer your phone.

You just quickly ran to the kitchen to grab your phone when you heard it ringing but you were pleasantly surprised to see your best friend's contact name on the screen.  

“Wheels! Sweetheart!” Matty’s chipper voice comes from down the phone. “How are you? What you up to?”

“I’m good, thank you.” You tell him as you make your way back to  “And I’m currently doing another box painting for the next gallery. For whenever the world gets back to normal anyway.”

“Hopefully we will get there soon,” You can hear Matty’s smile when he adds, “And oooo, what’s this one of?”

You smile as you look at your artwork. This one was just a scene you conjured up from your imagination and it turned out pretty well if you do say so yourself, “This one is a foggy forest with mountains in the back.”

“Nice one, can’t wait to see it.” Matty says and you know he’s being entirely genuine.

However, today is about him, not you.

“You’re too cute, but anyway, I can tell you over the phone properly now.” You’re grinning like a fool as you say, “I’m so fucking proud of you Matty… Notes is fucking amazing.”

Notes On A Conditional Form came out today and you’ve already had your first run through of listening to it since Alex went out earlier as you painted. It’s so different to their other albums but still has that 1975 magic that makes the songs theirs. And you’re so incredibly proud of them all.

“Thank you Sweetheart,” You can practically hear his grin, “And whilst I’ve got you, Notes was actually the reason I was calling.”

“Oh?” You smile hearing that.

“We’re doing the twitter listening party later on at seven and I wondered if you’re not busy if you wanted to come to the studio to listen with me and George?” Matty asks, and before you can get a word in, your best friend starts giving his reasons, “I just don’t want you on your own when you’re being sensible anyway so having you around for a bit isn’t going to break any rules in our mind nor should it in yours. You shouldn’t be locked down alone anyway.”

“Matty,” You start, “Thank you for the offer but I’m not on my own anymore.”

“Who you with?”

“Alex…” You trail off, really not knowing how Matty was going to take it.

You’ve sort of just kept what’s gone on between you and Alex the past month between the two of you. You hadn’t even told Adam you were giving it another try with Alex yet, you just told him when you socially distanced met up with him the day your boyfriend was reading your poetry books that you were staying at his house, not that you were back together.

“Ah, right.” Matty thinks about it for a second before hesitantly asking, “I’m guessing in more ways than one?”

You feel fucking awful, like you should have had this conversation in person and not over the phone, so you immediately say, “I’m sorry Matty, I-”

“No, no Wheels, please don’t apologise.” Matty is quick to interrupt you, “I was just asking because I didn't want to presume. I just want you to be happy.”

“That’s all I want for you too, Matty. I swear.” You promise, because you do just want him happy.

There’s nothing you want more than for him to find the girl of his dreams who can put up with his excitable ways and for someone who loves him just as much as you once did. He deserves the world and there will always be a part of you that loves him, but you’re both so much better off as best friends it's clear for you both to see now.

“Yeah, I know.” You can hear his smile and that is still present when he excitedly hints, “I’ve got news on that actually.”

“Ooo what?”

“I’ve started speaking to someone.” Matty informs you and you can hear his grin down the phone.

You gasp, completely thrilled for him, “Really?”

“Yeah.” He confirms, sounding really chuffed for himself.  

“Would I know her?” Is your polite way of asking if she’s famous.

“You might.” Matty chuckles before answering, “You heard of FKA Twigs?”

“You’re kidding.” Your jaw drops and you have to pinch your nose wondering how the fuck Matty, your beautifully idiotic now skinhead Matty Healy has somehow managed to take FKA Twigs off the market. “How the fuck have you managed that Matty? She pole dances!”

“I know.” Matty laughs down the phone, clearly finding your shock funny. “I don’t know either Wheels, but it’s going really well. I was actually gunna tell you later on if you were coming round.”

You can’t stop smiling at how bloody happy he sounds, you coo down the phone, “Matty, I’m so happy for you.”

“I’m happy for you too.” Matty tells you sincerely, and your heart melts a bit when he adds, “You know I’m always here if you need me, right Sweetheart?”

“Of course I do, Curly.” You nod, wrapping an arm around yourself in an attempt to simulate one of his. You’ve missed your Matty hugs these past four months. You remind him, “I’m always a phone call away too. You know that.”

“I do.” Matty confirms which makes you smile.

You really need lockdown to fuck off so you can go and hug your friends. You will certainly never take their presence for granted ever again.

“Who knows about you and Al by the way? Does Hann know?” Matty can’t help but wonder.

“No we’ve not told anyone, we've just kept it to ourselves for the time being.” You explain, “But it’s not a secret, tell who you want. I’ll phone Adam after I’ve finished on the phone with you though.”

He chuckles mischievously, “Amazing, Twitter will have a field day.”

“Just like they did when they found out you shaved your head again.” You pointedly accuse because you’re still not happy with him.

The bastard got rid of the mohawk and left a fucking rat tail on his head, and after copious amounts of bullying from you, he finally got rid of that too. But now he just looks like a prison inmate and you need him to commit to growing his hair back.

“So other than the both of us being happy, do you have any gossip? Personal or industry will satisfy my boredom.” You ask, changing the topic of conversation so he hopefully forgets his plan to out your relationship to twitter.  

Matty laughs then, but he can’t help but say, “Alex should be satisfying your boredom.”

“Oh he is,” You grin, knowing exactly what your best friend meant by that, “But I’ve gotta have a break sometimes, Curly.”

The sex you and Alex were currently having was very very nice to say the least. Lockdown was a blessing in that sense, between painting, watching shit tv, talking to each other and your friends left a lot of time for the two of you to get up to no good. And it’s needless to say, you’ve been left very satisfied.

But you can’t help but tease Matty, “Might watch a few more videos of your girlfriend pole dancing if you don’t give me some gossip.”

“Let me think.” Your best friend says quickly which makes you chuckle, but then he tells you the worst thing imaginable, “Oh yeah, so something devastating news for you actually… Catfish and the Bottlemen are no more.”

Your eyes go wide, and you gasp, “What?!”

You can imagine Matty nodding as he confirms, “They are splitting up.”

“No.” You say back in utter disbelief.

You don;t even hear the front door open, you're so in shock. All you can hear is Matty trying not to laugh as he says, “Yeah, sorry Wheels but it’s true.”

With your hand over your mouth, still in utter disbelief you ask, “But why?” like you’re a child who’s having a sulk at your toy being taken away.

“I’ve got no idea. Seems there’s been a few disagreements and shit’s hit the fan.” Matty tells you, “Apparently, they will be doing their confirmed tour dates and then that's it.”

“I’m in pain.” You're frozen to your spot, looking like your world just crumbled down as you exaggerate to Matty, “Immense pain.”

Whilst your best friend chuckles down the phone, Alex walks through the door with all of the food shopping bags on his arms, and he asks slightly concerned, “What’s wrong with you? You look like you’re about to throw up.”

As your boyfriend kisses you on top of your head, you repeat what Matty just told you, “Catfish and the Bottlemen are splitting up.”

“Yeah.” Alex nods like it’s not news to him before he turns and heads towards the kitchen.

You jump out of your seat and follow him, almost shouting, “You knew?!”

“I thought you did.” Alex says over his shoulder as he puts all the bags down in the corner of the room by the cupboards.  

Matty is laughing down the phone as you say in complete disbelief, “I can’t believe you knew and you didn’t tell me.”

“Don’t cry Angel, they weren’t that good.” Alex chuckles before he starts opening cupboards and the fridge to put the food shopping away.  

You jump up and sit on the kitchen island before saying, “I’m surrounded by rats.” and Matty again laughs as your boyfriend chuckles.

“Matty’s on the phone then?” Alex asks, and when you nod, you pull your phone from your ear and put him on speaker. Your boyfriend tells your best friend, “Brave of you to tell her that mate. How are you?”

“I know and good thank you, hope you are too.” Matty’s voice rings out of your phone speakers.  

But you smirk and add, “Oh he’s fucking amazing with his new pole dancing girlfriend.”

“Who?” Alex turns to look at you with a surprised look.

You grin knowing he’ll be shocked when you tell him, “FKA Twigs.”

“You’re kidding?” Alex’s jaw drops exactly like yours did.

You can’t help but laugh, “That’s what I said!”

“Okay it’s getting a bit rude now and you’s can call her Tahliah,” Matty tells you and you bite your lip to stop from laughing. Matty adds though, “By the way Al… Break Wheels’ heart and I’ll punch your lights out and get George to do the same.”

“Noted.” Alex chuckles, having absolutely no intention to ever hurt you again. Changing the topic, “Speaking of notes, we’re listening to it later, right?”

“We are indeed.” You nod confirming for your boyfriend.

“Excited to hear what you think.” Matty says pleasantly, but then he feels the need to remind, “Please both of you remember I wrote it a fucking while ago.”

You chuckle at that because you know he means that songs about you are on there. But you already knew that. You were in the music video to one of them after all. But you’re excited to tweet along later as you both listen to it properly.  

“Don’t worry, it's all good.” Alex chuckles, really not caring if you’re not upset by it.

Matty is entitled to write about his own experience just as much as he is.  

You leave Alex to put the shopping away after the three of you chat for a little bit. You and Matty could chat for days and you probably chat for another half an hour about anything that pops into either of your heads. But then Matty remembers something that will shock you to your very soul.

“Oh fuck.” Matty says randomly as you were gossiping.

“What?”

“I forgot to tell you something…” Matty trails off.

If you were on facetime with him, you expect you’d see the hint of a grin coming onto his lips as you can tell by the way he said that. You’re sure of it.

Which is why you question, “Is it gossip?”

“It is.” Matty confirms, before correcting slightly, “Personal gossip.”

Oh, fuck yes. The best kind… Especially when it’s not about you.

You’re grinning, “Spill, now.”

“Are you sat down?” Matty asks, “You might want to be.”

“Oh fuck,” You immediately feel guilty for getting excited and not realising something could be wrong, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah everything’s grand,” Matty thankfully eases your worries, but he still leaves you anxious as he says, “Just need you to be sitting for this.”

“Okay… You’re scaring me now. What?”

“It’s George…” He trails off again.

But you prompt him to continue, your heart beating a little faster wondering what the gossip could be, “What about him?”

Matty tells you, “He texted me earlier saying he’d managed to shag the girl he’s been after for a while.”

And just like that your hopes and dreams of George all crumble away.

You pout at that, and you sound a little grumpy as you say, “Well he’s not just shagged me so that’s a lie.”

“You wish.” Matty laughs, expecting to hear nothing else.

He can’t help but find your disappointment funny. But he knew he needed to be the one to tell you, because you’d need the news to sink in first and you’d be too polite for your own good if George told you himself.

As Matty is thinking all of this, you realise you really can’t be upset. You’ve got your man now and you’re very veryhappy with him. Maybe you’re just mourning what could have been and the jokes that can’t happen anymore.

Sighing, you brave the pain, “Come on spill... Who is it? Is she pretty? Do we know her?”

“Oh, you know her alright.” You can hear Matty’s grin.

“Do not say Alexa Chung.” You state bluntly, the idea not funny in the slightest to you.  

Matty cackles at that, but he assures you, “No, you’re safe don’t worry.”

“Who’s he fucking Matty?” You urge him to tell you.  

“Charli XCX.”

Your jaw falls open for the second time today, and you gasp, “No.”

“I promise you.” Matty confirms, but now you’re truly shell shocked and you’re left speechless. So much so that after a minute, your best friend makes sure you’re still there, “Wheels?”

Lucky fucking bitch.

You say as you stare into the void, “I’m deeply unwell.”

“I knew you would be.” Matty chuckles to himself as he can picture the shock on your face so clearly.

You whine, “She’s so fucking fit.”

“I know.” Matty agrees.

But you’re still thinking out loud as you complain, “They must have the hottest, switchiest sex.”

Matty cackles loudly at the pain in your voice. “I’m going to tell him you said that.”

Ignoring that comment, you carry on rambling about this fake heartbreak, “I half feel like he’s cheated on me because he’s not told me.”

Matty quite rightly asks, “Have you told him about Alex?”

“No, so I don’t have a leg to stand on but still I’m in pain right now.” You winge.

“Knew you would be.” Matty chuckles, “We’re all off the market now, Wheels. The shop has closed.”

You nod as if he can see you, but you then go on to the more pressing point, “We need to find Ross someone, stat.”

Matty agrees, “I might set him up a Raya account.”  

“Do it, the man needs to get laid.” You approve, then joke, “If I wasn’t spoken for, I would.”

“Please expect the bro code, Wheels.” You can almost hear Matty’s frown.  

“I’m not your bro.” You state, half offended he would call you that.

Matty chuckles, “You’re my best friend, you are.”

And just as you’re about to argue that you’re had sex with him before so you’re not his bro, Matty swears, “Oh fuck.”

You’re worried for a split second, “What?”

“I’m late for my Zoom meeting with Jamie,” Matty panics a little, but nothings wrong so you take a breath of relief as your best friend apologises, “Sorry Wheels, I completely forgot and he’s ringing me.”

You just chuckle, “Ever the professional.”

“Sorry Sweetheart.”

“It’s alright.” You smile, “Speak to you soon, love you lots Curly.”

“Love you too, bye Wheels.” Matty quickly bids you farewell.

“Bye.” You say back and when the call ends you stand yourself up.

It’s almost too much news to take in. You have to take a breath as you wonder back to the kitchen where you can hear your boyfriend starting to cook.

After you put your phone on charge, you walk up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist.

“Al.” You mumble as you hug his back.

“Yes Angel?”

“Don’t suppose you’ve ever thought about a foursome?” You ask, unable to stop yourself.

Alex chuckles, “With Matty and Twigs, no.”

You laugh a little too as that was definitely not who you were meaning. You correct him, “No, with George and his new girl.”

“Who’s his new girl?” Alex asks absentmindedly, no matter the answer he’s not going to change his mind.

You still can’t believe George has managed to land the stunning woman, “Charli XCX.”

Alex turns towards you at this point, looking just as shocked as you, “You’re kidding?”

“Nope.” You confirm it’s true.

“Christ,” Alex chuckles, “The pandemic has done the rounds for bringing couples together, hasn't it?”

“I know, I know.” You nod, and go back to having a silent moment with him, once again hugging his back whilst he cooks.  

But after a minute, you ask again, “So… the foursome?”

Alex snorts, before telling you, “Get out of my kitchen, woman.”

~*~*~*~ 30th November 2020 ~*~*~*~

“I don’t think we’re ever going to find one, Angel.” Alex sighs as you both get in the car after another disappointing house viewing.

You try to keep both of your hopes up by assuring, “We will.” as you do your seatbelt and get comfy as Alex starts the car.

Your boyfriend just looks visibly deflated though, which is how you’re currently feeling too but you’re trying not to let it get you down. The both of you decided that you wanted to find a home together, because you wanted to build a life together that was your own.

Originally it was Alex’s idea, because he didn’t want to refer to it as your flat or his house, he wanted it to be both of yours together. He wanted to restart with you and you were certainly up for it. You’re really not attached to your flat in London at all, and you’ve been living with Alex since June so you’re certainly up for it.

But the current search hasn’t been going too well.

“Each one has so many cons and it’s infuriating.” Alex huffs as he waits for the car to de-mist. He turns to you and holds up each of fingers for the cons, “Either no studio space or no music room space. It's either all dark and dingy and needs too much doing to it.”

“I understand Al,” You nod, getting what he means entirely, “Nowhere has felt like a home.”

He runs a hand through his once again prince charming hair, but he looks at you and sighs, “We couldn't raise a family in any of the ones they’ve shown us.”

The both of you have talked about your futures a lot recently and the prospect of starting a family has been talked about. Neither of you want anything right now, but the option being left open is certainly something you’re happy with.

You just continue to tell your boyfriend, “We will find somewhere.” as you grab his hand and lace your fingers together.

Alex gives your hand a squeeze and he kisses the back of it before sounding slightly upset as he admits, “I’m losing hope and that's really sad.”

You give him a sad smile hearing that but you do understand. You’ve not liked any yet either and it does get the both of you down. But you just try to stay optimistic but also realistic. It really isn’t the end of the world.

“Well we have the viewing later today and if that goes shit, how about we just put a hold on moving?” You suggest, “We’re not moving because we desperately have too, we’re just doing it for better convenience for the both of us.”

Alex looks like he’s about to argue, but you get to him first and say, “It’s really not that much of an issue me going to the flat to sort the paintings out. I can survive a bit longer.”

“I know, but I also want to make a home with you like we talked about.” Alex sounds so defeated and you just make him lean across the car to hug you for a few seconds.

“Home for me is where you are.” You tell him as you kiss his cheek, “So I’m perfectly fine in the house for a bit longer, Al. I’m in no rush... Let's just see how later goes and if we get a good feeling about it we can see.”

Alex nods and lets you go, grabbing your hand again as he nods, “Yeah, you’re right.”

“I always am.” You chuckle and squeeze his hand, “You never know, the one later is a little further out of the city. More room there. And if you want to, I don't mind not being in London, we can go back home and look up there.”

Alex smiles at that idea, but he outs himself for not being able to wait around for anything, “I just can’t wait to build a life with you any longer. Need everything now.”

You grin at him and lean over to steal a kiss as you tell him, “I love you, Mr Impatient.”

“Love you too, Angel.” Alex mumbles against your lips as he kisses you back.

~*~*~*~

“So this one has most of the things you were asking for.” Your estate agent Anna tells you as the three of you walk up the drive of the gorgeous looking house.

“Lots of natural light, which I know you wanted for your art studio, Y/N. There's another decent sized room that could easily be turned into a home studio for you, Alex. It’s a little bigger than you wanted, but more space is never a bad thing.” She goes on to tell you as she gets the keys to the house out. “It's a four bed, two bathroom. Master has an ensuite, and there's an open plan kitchen and dining area. And the lounge is fairly big with a fireplace. There's also a pretty much brand new conservatory on the back and a big garden too.”

“Well it certainly sounds good.” You smile as she starts unlocking the doors, “Looks it too from the outside.”

The drive can easily fit a few cars on there which is nice, and there's a tree that currently has no leaves in the corner too. The outside of the house looks huge, somewhere that you would dream of living when you were a teenager and never imagining it would be possible for you to have. You just hope inside lives up to the outside.

Anna smiles at you both, and she says, “Fingers crossed this is the one for you both, I have a good feeling,”

“Let's hope it’s a good one.” Alex nods as she opens the front door.

Anna gives you the tour around and you must admit the more things you see of this house, the more you can see the potential in it. This is one of the few that you’re actually letting yourself get excited about.

The room Anna thought about as your art studio is perfect, there's enough natural light so you could paint in there and there's enough room to store your paintings and all your supplies too. There’s nothing you don’t like about it.

And Alex seems to like the room that she envisioned as his studio. You could already picture his guitars on the walls, a drum kit in there, a keyboard, there was enough room for everything.

The lounge is fucking huge, bigger than the two of you need but it’s cosy and if theres a future where the two of you ever decide to expand your family the house certainly accommodates to it. The joint kitchen and dining room is astounding too, you wouldn't change a thing in there, you love all the units and so does Alex.

Upstairs is just as good. All the bedrooms and the bathroom are beautiful and the only thing you would change about them would be giving them some colour on the bare white walls. You can certainly picture yourself and Alex in the master bedroom too. The whole house is stunning and the both of you get that excited feeling in your stomach as you look around.

Anna lets you wonder around by yourselves for a little bit where you get the relief of knowing that the other person has a good feeling about this house too. And as you come back downstairs, you realise you’ve not looked outside yet or been in the conservatory.

“Do we get to the back garden through the conservatory, Anna?” You ask, looking back to her setting her iPad down on the kitchen island.

“Yes there is a door in there and there's a door in the utility room too, but feel free to go out that way, the key should be in the door.” She smiles.

Both of you think that the conservatory has the potential to be very cosy, and there’s no neighbours facing this way either, the garden just seems to be surrounded by trees so it gives the garden some privacy which the both of you like.

“Lets go check outside.” You suggest as you slip your coat back on, and Alex follows you out.

It's a nice big garden. Big enough for your friends to come over for a BBQ in the summer, or if your family did expand a swingset, trampoline, or a pool could easily be put up and little ones could still run around it freely.

Even though most of the trees have currently lost their leaves due to the time of year, you still feel like this is a lovely place. Lots of light gets into the garden and you know even when all the leaves come back it won't feel suffocating. You really love this house and Alex agrees with you when you say it as you head back inside with him.

“What did you think?” Anna asks as she steps into the conservatory to meet you.

You nod, “It’s lovely.” and Alex nods agreeing with you.

“It really is, especially in spring and summer.” Anna smiles, and she looks out of the window and nonchalantly adds, “That cherry blossom tree makes the garden look beautiful.”

Instantly you and Alex look at each other like you’ve missed something. Because you’re certain you would have seen a cherry blossom tree outside if there was one.

It’s Alex that questions it, “Pardon?”

“That tree at the end of the garden,” Anna points to the big tree with no leaves at the very end of the garden, “It's a cherry blossom… When it's spring it blooms and looks stunning. I’ll find the pictures for you.”

You and Alex look at each other then as the estate agent looks through her iPad and both of you share the same look. The both of you entirely full of hope and you're sure the warm feeling must have hit his chest like it just did yours.

“There you go,” Anna hands her device over to you which shows an image of the back garden with all the trees in bloom.

But there’s a huge stunning cherry blossom tree in the centre of it, and it looks stunning. It looks like the one you painted on the big canvas that Alex secretly bought at your gallery.

Anna adds, “It’s the same as the small one out the front.” and she swipes on her screen which shows a smaller cherry blossom which is clearly the tree on the drive that had lost its leaves.

Both you and Alex look at each other again, this time with smiles tugging on both of your lips and you just know. If this isn’t a sign, you don’t know what is.

In reality, the both of you know that there is no need to look around again because you’ve both fallen completely in love with the house. The cherry blossoms have just confirmed it for you.

Regardless though, just to confirm it, you take another look around all the rooms as if you don’t know that you both want this house. And when you meet Anna at the front door, Alex grabs your hand and you smile at each other before your boyfriend says, “We would like to make an offer please.”

~*~*~*~ 7th April 2021 ~*~*~*~

“Hey!” You smile brightly as you open the door to your cousin and his girlfriend, “Come in, come in.”

“God, I'm so glad to see you Carly.” You say as you pull her into a hug, “I’ve missed you loads.”

“I’ve missed you too.” She says as she hugs you back.

As Alex greets your cousin, you tell her when you pull out of the hug and admire her long hair, “Gosh, every time I see your hair I wish mine was still as long.”

“It’s growing back.” She grins as she twists a strand of your hair.

You chuckle, “Yeah, just not fast enough.”

At that point the both of you turn to the two men. And you can’t help the massive grin that comes to your face when you look at Adam.

“Bro,” You grin as you hug your cousin, “It’s good to see you.

“And you B,” He tells you as he gives you a tight squeeze, “Missed you loads.”

“I know, these lockdowns need to fuck off.” You let him go as he says, “Really hoping that was the last one.”

From January to March this year, there was another lockdown in the UK. One that was a blessing and curse. A curse because the country was suffering from high Covid rates again, but a blessing because in those 3 months you had got the keys to yours and Alex’s house and you finished making it your own.

“I think it will be,” Adam is clearly hoping that was the end of another bout of self isolation too, “Don't think the country will survive another.”

You nod, agreeing, “Can’t wait to get back to normal.”

Adam hums in agreement and then he looks around the hall and around what he can see of your new home and says, “The house is stunning.”

“Ahh thank you.” You smile, the pride washing over you when you take a look around yourself.

Carly asks the both of you, “Did you get everything finished during the lockdown?”

“Yeah, we did.” Alex nods, and he grins at the memories of the both of you covered in paint in domestic bliss.  

Getting this house with you was certainly one of the best ideas he’d ever had and he would change nothing about it for the world. And on the rainy days recently, Alex had loved cuddling up with you in the conservatory where you would read aloud for the both of you as he was playing with the ends of your hair and his eyes would flick between you and the cherry blossom tree that had started to bloom at the bottom of your garden.

“Come on,” You link Carly's arm and say, “We’ll give you the tour.”

You take them round your home and you find yourself really proud to show it off. You’ve made it your own and every room that you walk into, you feel that pride that you felt each time you finished decorating a room during lockdown as you show them your home.

Once you’ve given the tour, you all walk into the kitchen so you can make them a drink. It’s so nice to have them around, you’ve really missed everyone again over the lockdown, you just can’t wait for things to go back to normal now.

And you’re really excited for your little housewarming party in a month's time. You can’t wait to have all your friends back together.

“It's gorgeous B.” Adam smiles as you hand him his cup of tea.

You grin, “Thank you.” as you take your seat next to Alex.

“Was talking about Alex's studio but sure the rest is nice.” Adam teases you.

But you just shake your head and tell him, “You’re a little shit.” as Carly nudges him for you.

All of you chat for a while and you have a really good catch up. You talk of how lockdown treated you all, about how you really hope life will get back to normal soon. You laugh about your funny lockdown stories over lunch and you can’t remember the last time you’ve had so much fun.

Well actually, you can remember the last time. It was in November when you finally got to hang out with all of your favourite people once again back up in your old flat, and Y/B/F and Charlie were back living together as the fact you all now had a vaccine on the horizon made the future look a whole lot brighter.

You felt like your family was whole again. Your Monkeys and your 1975 boys and your best friends all in one place. It felt like a birthday party, you were so happy.

Of course, you still got the flirty banter from George which Alex didn’t mind about, but what made your boyfriend giggle was when Charli started flirting with you too and you all but crumbled at it. Matty was still a terror and the banter between you was still exactly the same, he bullied you for anything and everything and you did the same to him.

That day you took it easy on him though because his girlfriend FKA Twigs aka Taliah had joined the party, but you did tell him that you were really happy he was happy in a moment you had when you joined him for some fresh air when he went out on your old fire escape to smoke. You really hoped for the best for him as he’d been with her for a while by that point and it was easy for you to see he was in love with her.

It was such a good day, and you’re remembering it fondly in an anecdote before you and Alex clear all the plates and make your cousin and his beautiful girlfriend another brew. Once you both return and all of you wonder into your lounge, you notice that the couple take each other's hands and seem to silently communicate with each other before smiling and looking back towards you.

“We’ve got to tell you something.” Carly smiles at the both of you and she grabs Adam’s hand making the statement even more suspenseful.

“Oh?” You smile, feeling like you know what this could be.

You and Y/B/F bet back on that day in November that in the next 6 months Adam would propose to Carly. And Alex knew about this bet too so you both glanced at each other subtly thinking that this really could be it, which makes you hold your breath with a nervous eagerness to hear what they have to say.

But then you’re shocked to your very soul.

“We're having a baby.” Adam grins at you.

Your eyes go wide with excitement, but you lose your words as you look between them, “You’re… you’re…”

“Yeah.” Carly nods, understanding your speechlessness.

“Oh my,” You trail off, immediately tearing up as you and Alex both stand up to hug the parents to be. Both of you say at the same time, “Congratulations.”

Adam makes a beeline for you, which you find really cute because you were going to go for Carly first. But you embrace your cousin so tight and you really don’t want to let him go.

You can hear Alex congratulating Carly whilst you and Adam just silently hug each other as you try not to sob down his ear. You think the hug says a lot more than you ever could.

You love the man in your arms like he’s your brother and you’ve so beyond happy for him. He deserves nothing but happiness and this is going to be the happiest thing to ever happen in your family.

“You’re going to be a Dad.” You cry happy tears as you squeeze him in the tightest hug you ever have, “I’m so happy for you Ads.”

“Thank you B.” Your cousin sounds a little choked up too.

You think about just how amazing he’s going to be with a baby and you can’t help but repeat yourself in a little chuckle of disbelief, “I can’t believe you’re going to be a Dad.”

Adam laughs, “Neither can I.”

“I’m going to spoil baby Hann rotten.” You promise him, already formulating a plan for everything you’re going to do for this child.

“Oh, I have no doubt.” Adam chuckles before you give each other another big squeeze and you let go to see he’s just as teary eyed as you.

You smile and wipe away his tears for him but you don’t bother to do your own because as soon as you look at Carly the waterworks start again. She’s tearing up a bit too as you trap her in a long hug.

“I'm so beyond happy for you, Carly.” You tell her and she thanks you as Alex tells Adam how elated he is for him.

You and Carly hug each other for a while too, probably too long but it feels like the both of you need it. And you’re giggling in each other's arms for a few minutes as you talk about how happy you are for them both and you promise her too that you will spoil her child rotten.

When you finally let go of her, you all sit back down but you’re far more invested in this conversation than you have been with anyone ever before.

Alex asks Carly with a bright smile, “How far are you?”

“Twelve weeks.” She grins.

“Who knows?” You have to ask, because you need to silently scream about this to someone after they have gone.

“Just the parents and now you two.” Adam tells you, “Had to come and tell my sister before the rest of them.”

Once again, the love and pride you feel for them being in your family and now making their own hits you square in your chest. You’re so overjoyed for them. You can’t wait to phone your Aunt as soon as Adam leaves.

“You’re gunna be a proper Auntie.” Adam grins and that makes your heart burst and tears threaten to come to your eyes again.

Alex pulls you into a little side hug as he laughs as he tells your cousin, “You’re going to have her sobbing.”

“I saw your eyes well up Turner, it’s not all on her.” Adam outs him which makes you giggle a little as Alex’s hug brings you some comfort.

“Are you going to find out if it's a little boy or girl?” You have to ask them.

And Carly excitedly tells you, “No, we’re going to wait.”

“I’m so so happy for you.” Is the one thing you keep repeating.

After talking and congratulating them for another 5 minutes, Adam nudges Carly with an excited look on his face and says, “We better go and tell the others.”

“Who are you telling today?” You have to ask so you don’t blab about it to someone you’re not meant to.

“The boys.” Adam grins, “Can’t not tell them.”

You chuckle a little as you think about it, “You’re going to make Matty cry.”

“What an early birthday present for him, ey?” Carly grins as she gets up to hug you, “But we’re telling him last because he will tell the others before we get a chance to.”

Alex laughs hearing that, “Probably a good idea.” as he pulls Adam into a hug.

“Yeah I know my big mouthed best mate well.” Adam laughs, hugging your boyfriend goodbye.

As you hug Carly, you promise her, “Your little one is going to get so spoiled.”

“I know.” You can hear her smile.

And when you pull away from the hug, you look down towards her stomach and you say directly to baby Hann, “I promise I'll give you all the chocolate you want. I’ll be the best Auntie ever.”

Carly giggles at that and when you look back up at her, she assures you, “You will be.”

“I love you,” You have to hug her again after that, “You’re going to be the best Mum in the world and thank you so much for making my little brother happy and giving him his own family.”

“We love you.” Carly tears up hearing you say that and she gives you a tight squeeze before she pulls back and puts a hand on her stomach and says, “And we can’t wait to meet this little one. He’s going to love you just as much as we do.”

“If you need anything please let me know.” You offer, “Anything, honestly.”

“Well, we might rope you into painting some animals or something in the nursery.” Adam grins as he moves so he can hug you now.

“Just say the word, I’ll bring everything, I’ll do anything.” You offer up your services, as it would be an honour to do for them. You can already picture the room that they would use in their house, it will be so cute.

“You’re going to be the best Dad.” You tell Adam as you squeeze him tightly.

“Don’t make me cry any more.” Adam laughs, “It’s been an emotional few months.”

“I bet.” You giggle before you tell him sincerely, “I love you so much Bro.”

Adam squeezes you tightly, “I love you too B.”

After the couple leave, you and Alex have a silent scream together, entirely buzzing that the family is going to be extended. Alex can’t help but feel like it's his brother that’s having a baby too, he feels just as happy as when all the other Monkeys told him that they were expecting.

But this hitting you so hard as it's your actual family has him feeling the joy even more intensely, and Alex fully intends to marry you one day so Adam is his actual family now too. Both of you know it’s the lives of being an only child that makes it feel even more special, but you’ve never felt so happy for someone before.

“Auntie Y/N/N and Uncle Alex, ey?” Alex brings you out of your thoughts. “Great ring to it.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” You grin and you get a little emotional again.

But that happens for the rest of the day. When you phone your Aunt up, you get in your feelings about hoping that you’ll be as good of an auntie as her to baby Hann and both of you just cry on the phone to each other for a long while as you wait for the others to find out.

You cry when each of the boys phone you after they have been told. It’s unsurprising they started with Ross as he is the most calm and collected of them all. And then they went to George and then Matty and by the time Matty found out it was about 6pm.

Instead of phoning you like he was going to, Matty drove to yours and Alex’s house in the rain so he could get excited with you both in person. And the three of you really did. You were planning gifts for them, Matty had a few ideas of things he wanted to commission you to paint for them (things you will absolutely not be charging for).

The other boys came round later in the evening too to join you and you all had the best time. You did phone Adam and Carly to come back too but they were driving up to Sheffield so they could tell Y/B/F and Charlie before going back to Manchester to tell more of your family.

All of you toast to Adam, Carly, and Baby Hann and the cutest family in the world that they will be. And with how much everyone in your house adores that couple, you know you’re all going to be the happiest family. You have no doubt at all.

~*~*~*~ 11th June 2021 ~*~*~*~

“Do you fancy a road trip?” You question your boyfriend as he stops playing his guitar. You walk into his music room and stand behind him as he’s on his stool to hug him from behind and you pre-warn him, “It’s a long one.”

Alex asks you curiously as he stops playing, “Where to?”

“Well it’s this place right, and someone wrote a song about it.” You try and fail to hold your grin as you answer him without actually answering him, “But it’s going to take us more than a forty-five minute drive to get there but not quite a seven hour flight.”

Alex puts his guitar down hearing and twists around on his stool. You see a surprised yet pleased look on his face, but his smile is bright when he wraps his arms around your waist and asks, “You wanna go back home?”

“Yeah,” You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck as you smile. “I need to go to my old house. My tenants are moving out so I need to decorate and get it back on the market.”

Your boyfriend's smile gets so much bigger hearing that and he excitedly grins, “So we’re going back to 505?”

“Yes.” You giggle loving the grin on his face, “About a week's trip if you’re willing to help me decorate?”

Alex leans forward to kiss you sweetly before nodding, “Course I will.” because there isn’t a chance he would miss going back to where it all started.

“Amazing.” You grin and because you’re a fool and you’re completely and hopelessly in love with the man in front of him, you quickly sit on his lap and shout over to your Amazon speaker, “Echo, play 505 by Arctic Monkeys.”  

And Alex chuckles as the song begins to play before he pulls you into a kiss.

~*~*~*~

Walking into your old home after your tenants handed you the keys back was a little strange. Obviously the place had been gutted and it was back at its barebones, almost exactly how you left it years ago.

Alex joined you at the front door after the family drove away and he held your hand as you unlocked the house and stepped inside. It’s been years since you actually had to come back into this house, and it’s a little eerie being back.

Memories of your childhood and teenage years flood back to you, both happy and sad ones as you both walk around the lounge, dining room, and kitchen. This home ultimately just makes you miss your Dad though, that's the overall feeling when you first walk in.

The memories of you and your friends chilling out in the lounge or kitchen come back to you and make you smile as you wonder back around the rooms that used to be the only home you knew. You find yourself getting really nostalgic as you walk around.

You only have very few memories of your Dad, but the ones you remember of him playing with you when you were a child, you tell Alex as you pass the spots in your old home that they happened in. Alex smiles and asks you questions about him and you answer all of them. You love that he wants to know more about him and what he was like.

Alex was always one of the few friends that always had asked what your Dad was like and that was something you appreciated because you didn’t want to bury his memory like your Mum usually does. So you tell him anecdotes that you either remember yourself or that you’ve been told about as you explore the hold house.

The stories were more family based whilst you were down the stairs, but as soon as you go up the stairs and you open the door to your old bedroom, you go silent. With Alex only a step behind you, the wave of nostalgia really hits you. For the briefest second, when you opened the door you could picture it as your bedroom again.

The old box TV constantly on the music channel in the corner, the low bed, your drawings pinned to your wall, your fairy lights hanging around your window, sheets upon sheets of poetry you printed off for free at school littering your floor. As you step into the room, you can practically picture everything clear as day.

Something feels lighter about being in the room now than it did the last time you were in it. You remember not wanting to be in this house so badly when you left it in 2008, but now it feels less bitter and it only brings back the good memories.

Memories must be flooding back to Alex too, because as you look around Alex watches you as he leans against your door frame and he smiles as he quietly says, “Where it all began, hey?”

Your cheeks go hot hearing that and you try not to grin like an idiot. The memories of that night really hit you hard as you're standing in this room and it's unsurprising when you get a little flustered and have to look away from him.

“How long after did you write the song?” You have to ask as you sit on the edge of the bed frame that the family had left behind.

“God,” Alex chuckles, “It was in the drafts for a while.”

Your boyfriend walks into the room and sits down on the floor in front of you then, looking up at you as he recalls, “I think some of it straight after… But it was mostly when I started thinking about you again when we became really close friends that it got all horny.”

“Teenage you was something else.” You giggle.

“Was just thinking back to us in here every time I saw you and my mind went straight down the gutter.” Alex owns up to it. “Rarely stopped thinking about you Angel.”

You smile hearing your nickname being said in the room he first said it in. But you can’t help but point that out, “You called me that for the first time in here.”

“Almost in the exact same positions, just swapped.” Alex grins, remembering it fondly.

You hum in amusement, “Yeah, didn’t take me giving you head to call it me this time.”

“God,” Alex groans a little, playfully saying, “That was the best night of my life.”

“Not exactly what I recall you saying last weekend, but sure, we will go with the night we lost our virginities.” You laugh a little then as Alex gets to his knees to shuffle forward to kiss you and shut you up.

He kisses you like you’ve both got all the time in the world, which you guess you do. Your fingers lace into his hair which if styled differently, he could probably look like he did back when the both of you lost your virginities.

Alex playfully bites your bottom lip to pull you into another kiss when you went to pull away from him, but you indulge him for a little longer. You try your best not to smile and ruin the moment but it gets a little difficult because you’re so happy.

Your heart feels like it could burst out of your chest with how much you love the man that’s kissing you. You just know he’s it for you, your everything, and the fact you're in the room where it all started has you a little emotional.

When you eventually pull away, you lean your forehead against his just to savour the moment with him.

After a silent minute, it’s Alex who asks as he pulls back and looks around the blank room,  “So where do you want to start?”

“Trip to B&Q and get the beige and white paints for all the rooms and we paint the days away?” You think out loud.

Alex nods approving of your plan and he smiles as he sits back on the floor.

“Sorry it’s a little boring.” You apologise in advance.

You know this won’t be as much fun as you both decorating your house because you’re basically taking the house's character away to let whoever ends up moving in to have a blank canvas to make their own. It will be a lot of boring white, grey, and beige painting of walls for the both of you.

But Alex shakes his head and assures you, “Nothing’s boring with you.”

That makes your heart ache with the love that you have for him again. And instead of saying it for the millionth time today, you show him in your own special way.

You smile as you tap your collarbone and you adore the way that your boyfriend’s face lights up completely. Alex’s own heart swells seeing you tap the words he once wrote you that have proudly displayed on your body and whilst he wants to tell you that he loves you verbally again, he settles for smiling back at you and tapping his own collarbone.

~*~*~*~ June 24th 2021 ~*~*~*~

Today you’ve given yourself the afternoon off painting 505 because it’s your birthday tomorrow and Y/B/F asked if you’d come round and see her which you and Alex currently are doing.

You’ve made plans to go out with them both for your birthday tomorrow and you’d had a great catch up with them. But you and Alex are currently in your old bedroom boxing up the last of your things to move down to your new home.

Both you and your boyfriend were left to do this after your best friend and her fiancé asked if you wouldn’t mind. Of course with not living with her at all anymore, you said it was fine and going through your stuff really wasn’t a hardship. It felt like you were going through your old memories with each thing that you picked up.

Alex is of course being a gem and helping you. And he’s currently taking all of your old books from your shelves and boxing them up for you as you collect the last of your shit from the drawers under your desk.

You’ve been going through things for about half an hour now, and you’ve already filled 3 boxes of stuff when Alex asks, “You’ve never read this have you?”

And when you turn to see which book he means, you immediately know he’s right. You never ended up reading that book he gave you.

It was the book he hand delivered to you that day you were packing to go back over to your Aunt and Uncles for their wedding. The same day Matty came around a little after him and they both made you try your dress on for them, and you remember just thanking Alex for the book and putting it straight on your shelf where you clearly forgot to pick it back up and read it.

“No, I guess we sent that many to each other I never got around to that one. I'm sorry.” You apologise as you walk over to him.

“It’s okay…”Alex smiles, genuinely not minding as it was only an old poetry book at the end of the day. Lot of memories in this book.”

“How'd you mean?” You ask.

Alex taps the book a few times before he reveals, “This was sort of the final nail in the coffin for me and Alexa.”

Of all things, you really weren’t expecting Alex to say that.

“What?” You ask a little dumbfounded.

Alex sighs like he’s finally just got something off his chest, “Yeah.” And you see that he then checks a page near the back of the book and reads over whatever it is before he smiles slightly and closes it again.

Still confused about why a book Alex ended up giving to you helped end his relationship with his ex, you end up needing to get clarity, “I thought that yours and Alexa’s schedules-”

“It was that.” Alex jumps in, confirming your right, “But when she came back to the flat in New York when we were on the break before we properly split, just after we were talking things out she found that book and she read the quote in the back that I annotated about a month after we started on the break of sorts.”

“I don’t remember you telling me about a break.” You say honestly, because you just remember how heart wrenched he was about the split.

“I didn’t want to tell you.” Alex tells you honestly, “I didn’t tell anyone, until now I guess.”

“I loved her but I wasn’t in love with her anymore and this proved it.” Alex shakes the book in his hand, not looking sad about anything, maybe just a little nostalgic which you understand.

But you can’t say you’re not curious when Alex explains, “She wasn’t angry or upset with what she saw, probably the reason why we’re still on alright terms because we’d been growing apart for a while before that anyway… But yeah, she read that and she was moving her stuff the same afternoon, and the day after I was on the phone to you telling you I was coming home.”

It seems a lot to process as you’ve not heard about any of this before now. But you have to know what’s been lying dormant on your shelf all these years.

“What did you write?” You ask curiously.

Alex hands you the book, his finger holding the page open for you, “Read it.”

And when you open it, you really weren’t expecting what you found.

~~~

“I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self-respect. And it’s these things I’d believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn’t all she should be. I love her and that’s the beginning and end of everything.”

- F. Scott Fitzgerald

This is how I feel about you Angel, always and forever. AT x

~~~

“You're an idiot.” You shake your head as you read the quote and his writing over and over again.

Alex knows he is. The month that he and Alexa went on their break he had been leaning on your friendship so much more and just from that month and every other part of your history, it made him realise his huge mistake.

And reading that poetry book that he found in particular which was all about love, it made him think so much of what he had felt for you in the past and what never really went away, and not what he was feeling for Alexa anymore. It was when he knew he needed to call it off for good.

Alexa just happened to pick up the book to see if it was hers but when she opened it and saw that at the back, they both knew it was time. Time to separate and go back home and for him to deal with his real feelings.

Alex doesn’t expect it, but when you look back up at him he sees that you’re a little teary eyed when you say, “You could have saved us a lot of time if you told me I needed to read this back when you handed it to me.”

Your heart feels like it's swelling and aching with longing in your chest as you tell your boyfriend, “This is the shit I dreamed of happening to me when I was younger.”

Alex pulls you into a hug, and you hold him tightly still not fully believing that has been on your shelf for the past decade and you’d not once touched it.

Your boyfriend makes you chuckle when he playfully says, “I think it’s your fault you didn’t read it sooner, if I'm honest.”

Knowing he’s only joking, you chuckle as you say earnestly, “I really wish I had done now.” and you hold him impossibly closer.

“It's always been you Y/N/N,” Alex tells you, and he kisses your temple before he admits, “Just took me a long while to realise it.”

You genuinely have to take a few minutes in his arms to process it, and when you eventually do, you look up at the love of your life and tell him once again, “I love you, Shakespeare.”

“I love you so much more, Angel.” Your boyfriend smiles before he leans down and kisses you sweetly.

Just as you’re about to let each other go and get back to your separate jobs, a voice shouting the both of you stops you.

“You two best not be shagging in the baby's future room!” You hear Y/B/F yell but it makes you and Alex stop dead.

You’re frozen in your spot for a solid few seconds just looking at your boyfriend as you both process the words you just heard. You have to ask him, “Did she just?”

“She did.” Alex answers immediately and he looks to your old bedroom door.

Both of you walk towards it and immediately walk back into the lounge seeing Y/B/F and Charlie sitting there with grins on their faces. You don’t have to ask because you know from the look on her face that she said that on purpose and that she is pregnant.

But you don’t blame Alex for wanting the confirmation, “Are you?”

Both of them nod before saying, “We’re pregnant.”

The way you dive for Y/B/F would be funny to her if she wasn’t already getting teary. The hug she receives is the best and biggest you’ve probably ever given each other but how can you not when your best friend since you were 3 years old has just told you that she’s expecting her own baby.

This is again another thing you really weren’t expecting to happen today and the mascara running down your cheeks is enough proof of that. You sit and cry with your best friend for a solid five minutes as you get information out of her.

“You can’t tell anyone yet, it's too early, but I missed my period and only just realised.” She tells you as you wipe each other's tears away, “Charlie got us in with his friend for a quick scan after the test came back positive… I’m ten weeks.”

Tears are freely running down your face when you ask, “When did you find out?”

“Yesterday.” She tells you, “I was going to phone you, but then Charlie phoned his friend and got us the appointment for yesterday afternoon just to make sure everything was fine because I didn’t know and I’ve had a few drinks this past month.”

“And everythings okay?” You have to know before she continues explaining.

“Yeah, everything's fine.” Y/B/F nods, getting emotional again as she confirms, “We’re all fine and healthy. ”

Your best friend grabs your hand as she continues, “And then I was going to tell you to come last night but you’d already texted asking if you could come today and I wanted to tell you both in person.”

She looks at Alex then and you look at him for the first time since you found out and it makes you more emotional when you see he’s all teary eyed for her. You can see the love he has for her plain as day on his features and you feel like you probably look the exact same. This is just as important to you as finding out Adam is having a baby.

You get a little nostalgic, thinking back to the days when you used to think about this moment in your futures, and you ask your best friend, “Remember when we always thought we’d both find out if one of us was pregnant when we’re with each other?”

“I was telling Charlie.” She laughs nodding, and looks at her fiance who looks just as emotional as the rest of you.

“She said you’d be pissed she wasn’t with you when she did the test.” The nurse tells you with a little laugh.

“Not angry, don't worry.” You chuckle and wipe away your tears, “Just very very happy.”

And after you give your best friend a kiss on her cheek you get up to give Alex a moment with her whilst you open your arms up to her fiance.

“Charlie, give me a hug please.” And he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you tightly.

You hug and talk for a little while as you tell him how happy you are for the both of them. And of course you cry a little, but for you and Charlie that’s standard. That’s how your friendship began and you don’t plan on changing anything about that.

And then you think about what brought him into your life and you can’t believe that it was almost 8 years ago now.

“Don’t shout at me for saying it, but I really never thought I would say it and actually mean it,” And you’re entirely honest when you say, “But I’ve never been so happy that car crash happened.”

And you do actually mean it. You’d go through it all again if it meant everyone in your life would be as happy as they are right now.

“Shut up, you idiot.” Y/B/F scorns you straight away but you don’t care. But she does make you smile when she says, “I would have found him anyway... It was fate we would meet. I have no doubt about it.”

“I do too.” You laugh a little, having no doubt about it. But then you look at your best friend and really look at her and how happy she is and tears spring to your eyes again. You can’t help but tell her, “God, I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” She pulls you in for another big hug and you wish you could stay in it forever.

You truly love this woman more than any other on the planet. Yes, you always call George your soulmate but in reality it’s this woman in your arms that has got you through every part of your life. And you’ll love her forever for being there for you as much as she has.

You can’t wait for her to have this baby and eventually marry Charlie who is the person that makes her the happiest in the world… Wait, the wedding.

“And before the wedding,” You shake your head and look down at her stomach and tap it gently, gently scorning the baby, “You’re ruining the hen party I’ve planned out, young one.”

They are due to get married in 2 months time. After all the push backs they have had because of the pandemic, you know they won't postpone again, but this means you definitely can’t be doing the things you’ve planned for the hen party. But you guess you’ll let your unborn niece or nephew off just this once.

Charlie, Alex, and Y/B/F laugh hearing you say that and you chuckle a little too as your best friend promises you, “We will go all out as soon as they arrive, I promise… Two drinks and I'll be plastered then after not drinking for so long.”

After an afternoon full of crying and telling each other you love each other a million times, your best friend hugs tightly as you’re saying goodbye to each other and whispers, “Happy early birthday present.”

You grin as you try your best not to burst into more tears, you’re so happy, “Best birthday ever.”

~*~*~*~ July 6th 2021 ~*~*~*~

For the last month with only a few days off for your birthday, you’ve been finishing up 505 and you must admit, for days you couldn’t wait to be done. Decorating was tiring but also really fun when you have your best friend who’s also your boyfriend at your side helping you out.

Alex made everything fun. Whether that just be his playful nature or keeping you motivated with the amazing playlist he put together to keep you going it always did the trick. His flirting was also encouraging, even if sometimes it ended up hindering your progress.

For example, when you both got to decorating your old bedroom, the flirting was off the charts. Your cheeks were hot all day and it got no better when you ended up having a small fight with the paints that ended up with both of your clothes coming off and paint ended up everywhere. On your legs, on your arms, on your face, and other places that the both of you found comical when you had to wash it off each other in the shower.

The way each of you could tell where your hands had been was the funniest part of it and it made your cheeks heat up as you could practically still feel his touch all over you with the visual reminder helping the memories come back.

And whilst that was a fun day, the rest of the days all seemed to blur into one long and boring project. You just wanted to add more colour to everything but you knew you couldn’t for the sake of the new tenants.

But today is the day. You’ve finally finished painting the entire house.

Everything looks clean and brand new and you’re so fucking thankful its all done. And you can tell Alex is too.

You lean back into your boyfriend as he wraps his arms around your waist and hugs you from behind. Smiling at the trail of kisses he presses onto your shoulder and up your neck, you praise the both of you, “We finally finished.”

“I think we should celebrate.” Alex says as he leaves a teasing kiss on your neck.

“We can’t shag again, Al.” You shake your head, knowing that you really can’t.

Yes the time in your old bedroom was fun, but you’re decorating for it to be someone else's home. You can’t defile it before you put it back up to rent out.

He laughs into your ear which makes you chuckle too, but you feel him shake his head, “No, look outside… The weather is stunning. Let's go get some food from the shop and a bottle of something and let's go to the park. We can’t stay in here, the paint fumes will kill us off.”

You smile knowing that ‘go to the park’ means go to your spot. And you think it’s a good idea.

“Get a taxi back to the flat later then?” You crane your neck so you can look back at him.

“Yeah,” Alex nods, “It's going to be a stunning evening. Let's grab a blanket and some wine and food and let's just stay in the park.”

You’re grinning like an idiot, “Yeah, good idea.”

And the both of you are sitting under your cherry blossom tree within an hour of leaving 505. The air is warm and you end up having a picnic of sorts to start off with.

Both of you got a lot of food from the shop before coming here and you both indulged in all the food you chose. You put the blanket down underneath the tree that is still looking glorious and such a vibrant pink in today's sunlight, and after the picnic you and Alex lay there for a while just relaxing and listening to music.

When you were packing up the last of your stuff at Y/B/F and Charlie’s the other day, you picked up Persuasion to reread and you brought that with you to finish off too. Alex had his own book he was reading so the both of you read peacefully for a long while.

Eventually the two of you needed more light as the sun kept shifting, so the both of you moved to the bench after a little while. And you lay down across it with your head resting on Alex’s thigh as you both continue to read.

Absent-mindedly, you end up holding each other's hand when you get immersed into your novels as Alex’s hand hangs across the back of the bench and you’re ever so slightly reaching up and keep interlacing your fingers with his. It’s peaceful and it's beautiful and you wouldn’t change anything about it and neither would your boyfriend.

The peace is only disturbed if either of you speak up, which isn’t all that often, but when you reread the letter in the book you just get the urge to want to read it out loud so your boyfriend can hear the beautiful words that are on the page as well, “Al, listen to this-”

“What's it about first?” Alex has to ask, needing even just a little bit of context so he can appreciate what you clearly think is good enough for you to want to tell him out loud.

“You’ve not read Persuasion? Austen?” You look up at him and ask curiously, thinking he would have definitely read this one in his time.

But you're left a little surprised when he shakes his head, “No.”

“You want me to tell you?” You ask and Alex smiles and nods prompting you to continue. You explain to him, “Long story short, she was persuaded not to marry this man nearly a decade ago and now he’s just written this to her and it's everything.”

“Okay go on,” Alex prompts you, and Alex listens and watches as you read it for him.

“I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed.” You trail off a little before the end of the letter Frederick writes to Anne.

You look up into Alex’s eyes and ask, “How beautiful is that? Austen was a fucking genius.”

Alex is already smiling down at you, but he nods, “She really was.”

You talk about it for a little bit before going back to the books again. But silently the both of you think over the line ‘I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it’ a little bit more because you find it so relatable in so many different ways.

But being here with Alex by your side now, you wouldn’t change anything about your own story for the world. You’re the happiest you’ve ever been here with your boyfriend and you love him so much you can sometimes barely find the words to describe how he makes you feel.

The amount of times over the past year you’ve stared at the page in your poetry diary for a good ten minutes wondering where on earth to start writing about how you feel about Alex is something you’ve lost count of. At this point, he is just an extension of yourself. You love him so much that your heart aches in the best way for him all the time.

Even as you spend your day with him doing nothing but reading out here, in your spot in the park, it’s not a waste of a day. And that’s because he’s by your side. You adore spending time with him no matter what you’re doing.  

You end up finishing your book and sitting up beside Alex where you rest your head on his shoulder and look out across the stunning view of Sheffield. It really is a gorgeous place that you grew up in. You miss being here all the time but you’re happy that you always have the excuse to come back up here to see your best friend and to come back to this spot which means the world to you.

Alex ends up putting his book down not long after you and the both of you watch the world go by as the sun slowly starts descending making the sky change colours with it. As it does, Alex starts playing with the jewellery you have on which isn’t all that different from what your quiet moments in your own home end up like.

But this time, your boyfriend smiles as he twists your Death Ramps ring on your little finger with one hand and he hooks his finger into the bracelet he bought you which has the Only Ones Who Know lyrics engraved onto it. Alex sounds really happy as he says, “I’m really happy you still wear these, you know?”

“Well,” You respond playfully, “The person who gave them me means a lot to me.”

Alex smiles and plays along, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod in confirmation, your smile never leaving your lips.

“Sounds like a great guy.” Alex tries not to grin but fails.

“He is.” You confirm for him, “The best I could ask for really... My boyfriend and everything now.”

“Lucky man.” Alex smiles.

You him like you’re not so sure but only because you want to say, “Not as lucky as me.”

The small facade ends when Alex leans in to kiss you, and you kiss him back enjoying the cute moment between you. It’s short and sweet, but it serves the purpose despite the both of you grinning like fools in love through the entire kiss.

“I love you so much.” Alex tells you as he looks into your eyes.

“I love you too, Darling.” You smile, not having called him that nickname in a short while.

“Thank god,” Alex sighs in relief, and you’re about to ask why the playfulness until he continues and it all becomes clear. Despite the big cheesy grin on his face, you know that he isn’t joking when he asks, “Because I really wanted to ask if you’d marry me?”

And then Alex lifts a boxed ring up from beside him and offers it to you, his smile never once wavering.

Yours becomes a million times bigger, as the fact he has a ring in his hand means he’s been planning this for God only knows how long, and the moment was perfect. You don’t waste another second before giving him your answer.

“I’d love to marry you.” You nod, your heart beating erratically in your chest.

“Thank god.” Alex chuckles and before he lets you lean forward and kiss him, he grabs your left hand and he quickly takes the ring out of the box before sliding it onto your finger.

As soon as it’s on, you kiss Alex like your life depends on it. Everything you’re feeling right now is poured into the kiss and it is just pure joy and complete love and adoration for the man you now get to one day marry.

You love him with the whole of your heart and you truly want nothing more than to be his officially. Because you always have been his, one way or another.

You kiss each other until you have no breath left and until you can’t keep the smile off your face as you’re too desperate to tell him you love him over and over again. Alex doesn’t hesitate to keep telling you either.

But once the both of you process the moment enough to tell each other something other than your love for one another, Alex lifts your hand up which is now home to your engagement ring and he asks, “Do you like it?”

You look at it properly now, and it’s just like what you’d always dreamed of sitting on your ring finger. Taking it in and seeing just how happy your fiance is has you telling him, “It’s beautiful.”

Truthfully, you don’t think you’ll ever forget how big Alex’s grin gets as he simply says, “Had to match you.”

And you’re unsure how your heart doesn’t burst there and then. The ache of too much love for the person who’s been your best friend for so many years whilst simultaneously being so much more really overcomes you.

You almost want to scorn him when he gets in there before you to say again, “I love you so much, Angel.”

“I love you so much more Shakespeare.” You giggle, “I can’t wait to marry you.”

Alex nods, chuckling to himself as he reiterates those words back to you before he cups your face and pulls you into another kiss of a lifetime.

Austen really got it right. Your heart is more Alex’s than your own at this point. You’ve been through it all together and despite everything, he’s here by your side and you love him with everything you have.

You’re his Angel. He’s your Shakespeare.

Each other’s everything from the very start.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: Thank you so so much to everyone who has stuck with me as I’ve been writing this fic. It really means a lot and I really hope you enjoyed the story and Wheels and Alex’s ending! Their story doesn’t really stop here… I mentioned a surprise that you’d all shout at me about and the surprise is that a small part of Alex and Wheels ending has been posted on my main account since before I ever posted the first part of NRIACC (told you you’d shout at me lol)… That little oneshot All Of You is a little extra part of their ending that I hope you can read/reread now and enjoy a little more. Can also catch Wheels and Alex’s ending continuing from a distance in Chicken Shop Date and they will appear in Part 5 of it when it eventually comes out (it’ll be faster than this fic I promise).

Anyway, just want to again say a huge thank you for sticking with my mental story and I really really hope you enjoyed the ending x

Note: I picked a few poems out for Wheels poems (wish i could have said i wrote them all but I'm not that good). I wrote the one that was about Matty. My friend @drinkurkombucha​ wrote the poems that have titles above them, and the others I found on Instagram. Full credit to the writers of those ones, a few were by courtney peppernell others were found on the lovequotes instagram page.

Taglist: @psychkunox​​​​​​​ @sofiaaraee​​​​​​​ @thewheeler​​ @cold-hands-cold-eyesss​​​​​​​ @xovalliegirlxo​​​​​​​ @vroboat​​​​​​​ @hoodskillerqueen​​​​​​ @woahhealy​​​​​​​ @emmaheg1005 @belledawnidk​​​​​​​ @elen-alambil​​​​​​​ @megann-duff​​​ @alexsvacuumcleaner​​​​​​​ @bshelley322​​​​​​​ @g0thwat3rr​​​​​​​ @cassieinnit​​​​​​​ @ohmyolympusssywp​​ @filling-thevoid​​​​​​ @xqueenkt​​​​​​​ @indierock4ever @amturners​​​​​​​ @alovesreading​​​​​​​​

[fbwzoo]

On to the mammals! Small ones first.

Honestly, I'm not planning much for the hamster - she's at least 2 and possibly older at this point, she's just getting a quiet retirement and whatever food she'll eat. Maybe for a future hamster, I'd kind of like to explore a more naturalistic set up, but we'll see. I need to do some more reading on that before I go nuts with it.

Likewise, not much planned for Clover other than her continued anti-human life. She's been enjoying getting some bugs more often with the other two bug eaters, though she usually ignores whatever other fresh treats I offer. I added a couple live plants to her viv recently, they're hanging in there so far.

Spoon....I still have plans for him! I did some of what I wanted already - changed his substrate, added clean up crew, and added a couple plants. I would like to increase the substrate depth, maybe add some burrow-type hides, and add more plants and branches. I also want to add a basking spot for him (especially by next winter), and a UVB light as well.

The rats already have their mansion, they're not getting any more space. 😂 We may have a few new babies coming home this summer, depending on where we fall on the breeders wait list. I mostly just want to step up enrichment for them again - have fun making toys for them out of the reject materials from my store, and stuffing boxes for them more often again. I'm also considering getting some small planter boxes that can hang on the outside of the cage to plant some herbs and stuff for them to nibble on.

Also, I'm thinking again about wanting to switch the rats to bioactive substrate as well, but I need to think about that more, and maybe wait until later this year after things calm down so I have the brain spoons to troubleshoot if needed. Our rats also aren't litter trained, so I need to see how much of a deal breaker that is. So that's still very much tentative!

Edit: I forgot the biggest thing for the rats, which is better bedding boxes!

[smeargleangelo]

I hope I'm not alone in this, but I feel as though I have difficulty approaching Pokémon as so many others do

I was very young when Pokémon came out, younger than the target demographic. My older brother wasn't, so naturally he took to Pokémon like a magikarp takes to water. I was too young to play any of the videogames and we didn't have Red or Blue or Yellow anyways. I remember the anime coming out and loving it. My brother and I were all in! We had the original red "Official Pokémon Handbook" and later the better-remembered green deluxe edition. Remember the Burger King promotion? My poor parents sure do! We had toys and t-shirts and pencil toppers. We couldn't get enough

We got Pokémon Pinball for the Gameboy Color shortly before Gold and Silver were released. I remember watching over my brother's shoulder as he played Silver for the first time. A kid from the neighborhood had a Nintendo 64 and Pokémon Snap. It was such a treat to watch him play!

After my brother lost interest and moved on to Harry Potter, I tried playing his copy of Silver. I really didn't understand the game as it was far more turn-based than the free form battles of the anime. You couldn't see the Pokémon running around in the wild like you could in the anime. It just wasn't the same. While I played it (and beat Whitney's dreaded Miltank with only a few tries), it wasn't what Pokémon meant to me, so I eventually threw the cartridge in a drawer and just watched the anime

I bring all of this up to say that when it comes to Pokémon, I'm very much approaching the franchise from the anime, not the games. As a result I find it hard to enjoy Pokétuber content, since so much of it is tied up in the game as a game. I don't care about the odds of catching a shiny variant, or egg groups, or IVs, or any of that mess. The grinding aspect of the game, continually battling wild Pokémon until they faint or catching them to stuff them in a box, just feels inhuman and wrong. Folks discuss the little critters more like tools than like pets, and it saddens me

I've played other Pokémon games. I got most of the way through Diamond and a little ways into Shield. Once I got access to Galar's wild area, I've effectively stopped progressing in the game. I can finally run around in the wild with Pokémon. I got what I came for

The most fun I've had recently is with New Pokémon Snap! I can see the Pokémon running around in their environment and I can interact with them as living critters, not as tools to win a game. The whole idea of the game is to vibe with them

But that's weird right? Ultimately Pokémon is a JRPG. The anime was just an abstraction of the game mechanics for entertainment and advertisement purposes

I would be content with more Pokémon Snap games or just a big Pokémon sand box that didn't force you to battle your critters unless you really wanted to, but that's not what Pokémon is

Someone please tell me I'm not alone in this? Surely there are more folks in this world that love Pokémon, but aren't necessarily tied to the core Pokémon games?

Anyways, just a thought..

- Smeargleangelo

[tehuti88-art]

2/17/23: r/SketchDaily theme, "Free Draw Friday." This week's character from my anthro WWII storyline is Margit Dannecker. She's a pretty new character and is the mother of THIS guy. She's deceased before the main story takes place but played a large role in the personal development of her son's character. There'll be more about her later in my art Tumblr and Toyhou.se.

Regarding her design, since her son is intended to be a purebred Siberian husky I guess that means she is too, though she's quite petite in size. She's intended to resemble her son's (later) stepdaughter, Margarethe (similar name too), although they're not related.

TUMBLR EDIT: I'm stepping into it deciding to draw this particular character 😕 but I want to exorcise her from my head. I'm going to have to try to keep details vague but a WARNING ahead of time, the Dannecker family is probably the most disturbing aspect of this story (well, aside from the literal Holocaust), so whenever their detailed profiles go live on Toyhou.se I may finally use an individual profile warning page (currently I just use a general warning for my entire account since I have so much triggering content). Meaning that although I won't go into gruesome detail here, yes, it will still be disturbing and offensive.

I'll say outright that the Dannecker storyline involves intergenerational child abuse. So please skip the rest of the entry if that's too much, I fully understand. Just a note that this isn't a plot point "just because"--in fact, while I knew of the situation with Dannecker and his stepdaughter, I only recently learned of that between him and his mother, it wasn't planned from the start. I generally don't try to get too far into the psyche of people like Dannecker, I figured he's just similar to a psychopath (if not specifically one), but the reason behind some of his behavior (a reason, not an excuse) emerged, so I felt the need to develop it. It's not intended merely to shock but to explain how somebody became so despicable.

All right, now that there's been a warning...

I've already gone over, various times, the terribly inappropriate relationship between SS labor camp commandant Ernst Dannecker and his young stepdaughter Margarethe, or Gret; I've never just come out and said it. Dannecker literally stalks and then marries Gret's mother, Else, for the specific purpose of grooming Gret, whom in a twisted way he considers to be his "true" wife. She's like fourteen or fifteen when he marries her mother; he gives her a year. So she's about sixteen when the abuse starts, and it continues until she's around eighteen or nineteen when she encounters Josef Diamant at the labor camp and the rest of the story has been told. Gret knows about the hidden passageway under the labor camp, which she and the prisoners use to escape, as Dannecker took her down there once to abuse her; this is why he told her nobody would be able to hear her scream.

Their relationship is a painfully complicated one in that, while on some occasions (like in the passageway) he's an absolute brute toward her, even going so far as threatening to target her younger sister, or put her family in his camp if she doesn't obey, on other occasions he comes across almost like a normal, doting father, spoiling her with gifts, fawning over her accomplishments, treating her with actual kindness. Part of this, obviously, is just the typical grooming process. Another part of it, however, is Dannecker's genuine feelings. He DOES love Gret. But it's a very messed-up, twisted-up love in that he doesn't have the same emotional capacity that other people do. He realizes what he does to her is morally wrong but that's not HIS morality, and on some level he does hope she'll come around and willingly become his wife. He's not insane. I don't even think I can call him a pure psychopath/sociopath as he DOES care about her, and his mother Margit, in a way I don't think psychopaths can. But...it's just corrupted and hopelessly messed up. Dannecker isn't capable of normal, healthy love; this is the way he was born, though his mother's actions helped refine it and bring it out. I think he still would've been messed up, and incapable of a healthy relationship, even without what his mother did (she herself sees this dark side of him emerge more than once, and it unsettles her). It's just that he probably wouldn't have ended up continuing the cycle by targeting Gret. Margit just helps cultivate what's already there. I. e., Dannecker was screwed from the start.

Result of all this is Gret despises her stepfather and tells Diamant she wants him dead, AND she actively participates in his murder, even taking a trophy--his honor sword (symbolic?)--afterward; yet after the dust has settled, and he's no longer a threat...she realizes, oddly, that she loved him, too. She always refers to him as "Papa," and frequently recalls the loving things he did for her--sure, most of these were just his grooming efforts, to try to win her over--but there was a genuine fatherly moment here and there and she remembers these fondly. There's even this unsettling scene, where Gret, by now aiding in the plot on Dannecker's life, asks him to take her back down to the hidden passageway where he did such awful things to her; he's actually surprised that she'd ask this (indicating that he's aware of how he hurt her), yet agrees. It's for reconnaissance reasons, but still, a harrowing--and confusing--experience. This has been edited (mostly text omission but a word change or two, as well) for obvious reasons; I'm going to eschew my typical ellipses, as they seem too suggestive. This was written before the plot point with Dannecker's mother developed, BTW.

She was skilled at readying herself relatively quickly, washing herself up and restyling her hair into its two customary long blond braids which her stepfather loved so much, putting on her undergarments, choosing her best dress from the closet full of beautiful dresses Dannecker had bought for her. She knew he liked the black dress the most, the way it complemented his SS uniform, drawing looks from both inmates and guards as they'd walk across the prison grounds. He was a lot like a vain cockerel puffing itself up as it paraded around its prize hen, she mused, and this thought gave her a tiny spiteful tang of delight as she hurried to slip the dress on and tie herself into it. Shiny black boots much like his own, and black bows on her braids, joined it, and with a final glance at herself in her mirror, she headed for the breakfast table.

Her mother, younger brothers, younger sister, stepfather all glanced at her as she entered; her mother and the older of her two brothers looked pensive, while Dannecker beamed even brighter than her mother had earlier, and she knew her ruse had worked; his vanity about his beloved camp and his position in it were his weak spot. "Come, sit beside your papa," he said, patting an empty chair, and she obeyed. The rest of breakfast went relatively normally, Gret eating silently as the others chattered, though under the table, her stepfather clasped her hand in his own, caressing her fingers.

Dannecker didn't follow the standard practice of a commandant living at his camp, she wasn't sure why, perhaps because of his family; she suspected he'd live there if not for them. Obviously someone higher up had granted an exception. His camp had never had any major incidents, his inmates and guards were well behaved, so perhaps this earned him some leniency. Every day he took a shiny black chauffeured car to the camp and today was no exception; they were allowed to drive within the main gate and slightly into the yard itself, where Dannecker would exit, taking hold of Gret's hand to help her step out and avoid muddying her boots and dress. She would loop her arm about his and he would walk her toward the main building as if she were his prize. They were always greeted politely by the adjutant and the other guards and the kapo if he were assisting Dannecker that day; Gret always greeted them politely back. On their way across the yard, she would also surreptitiously peer toward the inmates, see if any were paying especial attention. She spotted him off to the left and somewhat toward the back today, the Jew prisoner whose plan she'd seized onto as her potential salvation. His eyes met hers for just a fraction of a second and that was the extent of it: Gret averted her stare, looked toward the ground, ignored the dull business talk of the adjutant as they passed inside the building and headed to Dannecker's office.

It was a large, well-appointed office, yet she hated it, everything it had come to represent, especially the ornate wooden desk. She could tell from the furtive glances he cast her now and then that he was thinking similar things and probably would have loved nothing more than to indulge right then, but his adjutant was still talking, and the kapo stood at the back of the room with his head lowered respectfully. "This is really that important...?" Dannecker asked just as Gret came out of her thoughts; when the adjutant nodded a bit meekly (Dannecker's temper was well known everywhere, Gret mused), he sighed and stepped away from his desk. "Have to take care of a little business first, dear Gret, then we can go on our tour, ja?" She nodded. "Schindel will get you anything you need." He gestured and he and the adjutant left the office, the door going almost shut behind them.

The room grew quiet although she could hear distant voices in other parts of the building. "There is anything you want, Fräulein...?" someone asked softly, and she glanced up to see the kapo peering at her. She shook her head.

"Nein, danke, Herr Schindel."

He bobbed his head, shifted his gaze to the side, said nothing else. Gret tried not to think about the camp too much but the position of the kapo had always struck her in particular, someone having to do such odious things, and feign that everything was fine, just to survive. It seemed far too familiar. She didn't doubt he'd been on the receiving end of her stepfather's torments more than once, though there was no way she could speak to him about it.

Although it made her feel ill at ease, she went to sit in Dannecker's chair; she kept herself perched on the edge of it and tried not to think too much about him sitting in it. Everything in the office seemed to have a hidden connotation that made her insides clench unpleasantly, even some of the decorative items on the shelves. Oddly, the only neutral thing was the room just off the office, behind his desk; she knew this was meant as his personal quarters, where he was intended to sleep and easily be called on if there were any trouble in the camp, yet it was mostly empty, devoid even of a bed or cot, with just a few items for storage. It was dark and secluded and the perfect place for him to attack her savagely whenever he wished with no repercussions yet for some odd reason he never had. She suspected that the room was too private, too intended for that purpose, for him to get off on using it.

As if in response to her thoughts, the office door swung open and Gret jumped. Dannecker smiled and gestured; she obediently stood.

"Come now, pretty, we can take our tour." He glanced at Schindel. "We'll be looking around the camp for a while, maybe an hour or so. Let anyone who might stop by know that I'm not to be sought out or disturbed until I return, ja? Unless it's an emergency."

"Ja, Herr Kommandant."

"Let's go." Gret slipped silently out of the room as Schindel watched and she had the sudden dim wonder, did he know...? Did he suspect...? Dannecker looped his arm around hers and they headed up the hallway, footsteps echoing as they drew further away from all the business going on elsewhere in the building. She peered up at him, once only; he looked back down at her and gave that smile again, that smile that looked so kind and indulgent to anyone else who looked at him and saw a good father, but which to her was snakelike and menacing and reminded her of something far different from a good father. She didn't look at him again and as far as she could tell he didn't look at her, though she knew he must be thinking of all the prospects that were open right now, prospects that she was willingly walking into.

She briefly remembered her real father, who'd never been particularly attentive or doting toward her the way Dannecker was, yet he'd never done any of the other things her stepfather did, either. Although not especially loving or affectionate, her father had definitely been attentive to her mother, if the four living children, and several miscarried and one stillborn one, were any indication.

"Here we are, pretty Gret." Dannecker slowed his step, letting go of Gret's arm and reaching for his belt. She felt the tiniest twinge of panic even though all he did was remove a large keyring and approach a tapestry hanging on the wall before them. He nudged it aside and inserted a key into a hole that was barely visible; a dull thunk sounded when he turned it and then removed it. The hidden door was heavy and unwieldy, and he had to push at it with his shoulder to get it to obey; when it cracked open he gestured her forward. She slipped past him through the narrow space, trying to avoid touching though she brushed against the front of his uniform anyway; she felt her face grow hot and her insides twist again, but he didn't react, just pushed the large door shut and locked it again before returning the keyring to his belt. Another gesture, and they fell into step with each other, descending the slight slope into the passage. The air grew damp and cool the further they went; they approached the place where he'd first shoved her against the wall, and Gret felt her body start to shake, her heart thudding in her throat. Suddenly, the Jew prisoner's plan didn't seem worth it anymore; nothing was worth being down here again, alone with him, no one knowing where they were and no one able to hear them if they made any noise. She wished more than anything to be back on the surface, to just keep accepting him because at least that was more tolerable than being here. She fully expected him to notice her trembling, to deliberately misinterpret it, to offer that oily smile; yet the most surreptitious glance at his face showed he wasn't even looking at her, was staring at the passage ahead and seemed more pensive and distracted than anything.

Although she dreaded any sort of interaction with him--one could never tell what might set him off--she murmured meekly, "Something is wrong, Papa...?"

"Nein," Dannecker said. "Nothing for you to think about. Here..." He slowed to a stop, gesturing at the intersection at which they'd arrived, the passage continuing ahead but also left and right. "This way"--he gestured right--"is a dead end, a room with some storage at the end. This"--gesturing left--"leads under the west side of the yard. Ahead continues to the edge of the camp. Which way would you like to go?"

"A...ahead, Papa."

She peered at the darkness ahead, envisioning him dragging her within like some feral monster with her unable to see him. He reached up just after they stepped into the hallway and dim light surrounded them, from an old dingy bulb hanging from the ceiling. Gret let out a breath; this part of the tunnel was smaller, narrower, than before.

"You're nervous?" She nearly jumped, glancing up at him; she hadn't expected him to talk. "You're holding my arm rather tight," he added, and she hurried to loosen her grip, taking a step back for good measure, as she'd been almost pressed to his side. This bizarre muddle of actions and reactions--all of it stemming from a father who acted very little like a father--was bewildering. Although she'd never been close to her real father, she certainly longed for him now, to clutch his arm instead, have him protect her from the monster who was currently protecting her.

"S...sorry, Papa," she whispered.

Dannecker turned away, making a noncommittal noise. "Hold my arm all you like, there's nothing dangerous down here, though. Damp and mold and spiders is all."

You can scream and scream as much as you like... She made herself keep holding his arm, since he might get angry if she let go, though she kept her grasp loose. Something far more dangerous than a spider was down here, right here with her, yet Dannecker's voice and expression remained neutral, oddly disinterested.

So you can see Gret's confusion, longing for the protection of a distant, absent father, being protected by the very person she usually needs protecting from. She loves him, and she hates him. She doesn't take his honor sword merely as a trophy, a sign that he has no power or threat over her anymore. She also takes it as a reminder of his protection, literally using it to defend herself as he's no longer there to protect her from everything but himself. Yeah, it's confusing, as I imagine it'd be for anyone who's been victimized by someone they love and who's supposed to love them. It takes Gret a very long time to work through her feelings; it's easier to just shut them off most of the time. (This is the reason the other characters view her as cold and uppity--the man she later ends up with, Lukas Mettbach, at first refers to her as "Nazi b*tch," misinterpreting her aloofness and her similarities to her stepfather (she often dresses in black, wears shiny black boots, goosesteps a bit when she walks, and parrots Nazi tropes while collecting Nazi memorabilia) as blind devotion to him and his ideals.)

(All this is even further complicated by her mother, Else's, reaction when Gret tries to get in touch with her after the war. Else truly loved Dannecker, seeing him as having rescued her and her children from a potential life of poverty following her husband's death in combat; she has no idea how he never cared for her at all, frequently calling her a "fat old cow" behind her back. She's infuriated with Gret for taking her beloved Ernst away from her; she refuses to believe Gret's account of Dannecker's abuse, and even when Gret's brother Christof reveals to her that he himself witnessed it, she insists Gret must have seduced her stepfather. She disowns Gret, and dies never having forgiven her; ironically, the woman Dannecker admitted to Gret he could barely even stand to touch is the one person to really grieve for him when he's gone. Gret's two other siblings also pretty much turn their backs on her, making her doubt her own perceptions; only Christof, who helped her out after she escaped into the Diamond Network, shows her any sympathy.)

Dannecker went through a similar experience himself, with his mother, Margit. He, too, is very confused. This is the part of the story that emerged most recently and I touched on it in Isaak Schindel's entry.

Margit is married to Walther; they're a decent upper middle-class family, and she dotes on their lone child, Ernst. Ernst is a rather willowy, shrimpy kid, physically awkward and easily cowed, the sort who would get beaten up frequently under normal circumstances. The thing is that Ernst has a mean streak; it doesn't come out often, but it does peek its head out just enough for his classmates to leave him alone. He makes no friends, but then again he doesn't want any. He's cold and aloof and keeps to himself.

At home, his father is stiff and formal, a bit distant, but his mother lavishes him with love and attention. He's the center of her life. Walther finds her attention to him to be a bit offputting--he thinks Ernst needs to toughen up some--but he has no real reason to suspect anything's amiss, especially since Ernst doesn't respond much to Margit's affection. That changes one night when she visits his room at an awkward moment. He's embarrassed, but she tells him not to be, it's just natural. And maybe it is, but what she does afterward isn't.

I'm not sure of Ernst's age, but yes, he's underaged. And a one-time thing becomes an ongoing thing. The situation confuses him at first but his own mother says it's normal--she went through it with her father when she was young, and if Ernst ever has a daughter, she tells him, perhaps he'll do the same. So Margit's coming from a nasty background herself, and just continuing a cycle she was taught to normalize. And her son follows along, because it's his mother, of course she knows better than he does. They have to keep it secret from his father as she had to keep it secret from her mother, but that's just the way of things. Nobody else would understand the connection they share. (At least that's how Margit puts it.)

Ernst quickly latches on to the relationship with his mother in a way he never did before, seeming to become almost addicted to it. Margit sometimes has to coax him into calming himself down or being patient, he's so impulsive and starved for her attention. She sees the first hints of malice lurking beneath the surface whenever he doesn't get his way, but he's generally quite obedient to her, as long as she keeps a soft sweet placating demeanor and promises to reward him later on. For quite some time, this is how things go, until one day Walther catches them together.

Of course he's aghast--he knew something inappropriate was going on, just not THIS inappropriate. He starts yelling, Margit starts yelling--the only one not yelling is Ernst, who just watches the two screaming back and forth. It doesn't get through to him the exact import of his father's words: "How could you do this to him?--your own son!" Even through all his disgust, Walther rightly sees Ernst as a victim, but it's a thought neither of the others shares--they both fully believe they share some sort of sacred love. He finally yells for Ernst to get out and go to his room--Ernst refuses to go until Margit tells him to--and once he's there, Walther locks him in and keeps the key from Margit. After some further arguing he figures out this has been going on for years. He vows that this is the end of such "degenerate" behavior, and the next day they're going to address it head on. He goes to call somebody on the phone and makes some sort of arrangements; then pulls Margit away from Ernst's door, threatens her to knock it off, and orders her back to their room. He himself stays in the hallway and prevents her from heading to Ernst's room again. The rest of the night passes in this uneasy stalemate, but as soon as morning comes, Walther unlocks Ernst's room and orders him to wash up and pack--"A few changes of clothes, toiletries. Pack! Now!"

Walther's never been so livid, so Ernst obeys, while Margit hovers outside, begging to know what's going on. Walther refuses to answer, orders Ernst out to the car; Margit insists on going along, and Walther doesn't argue. He still doesn't answer any questions, either; though when he drives them to the railway station, the other two have figured out he means business.

Walther purchases a single one-way ticket, steers Ernst toward the platform, Margit on their heels, pleading. The train arrives not long after, and based on its next intended destination, Margit figures out where it must be headed. "The military academy?" she cries, and pleads with Walther--Ernst isn't made for military life, not her boy, he's no soldier. Indeed, though he's grown somewhat by now--he's about sixteen--Ernst is still shy and awkward and gangly, all arms and legs, and has never shown any militant propensities--he just wants to stay with his mother. Walther is undeterred, however: "Maybe there, they'll raise him right. Unlike in our house!" The train stops, the conductor opens the doors and starts calling for passengers; Walther grabs Ernst's arm and hauls him forward. Ernst finally protests, calling for Margit, and she calls him back, while still pleading with Walther; the three raise such a commotion that faces start peering curiously out the train car windows. When Ernst refuses to board the train, Walther first threatens to thrash him; then, when that doesn't work, he hisses, "If you don't get on now, I promise you you'll never see your mother again." That threat works; Ernst glowers, but takes his bag and ticket and gets on the train. The doors close and he hurries to the window to look out; Margit sees him, yells his name, runs after the train a bit as it starts to move, then collapses on the platform, sobbing.

Behind Ernst, one of the other teenage boys occupying the car murmurs, "Muttersöhnchen"--"Mama's boy." Everyone else chuckles. Ernst shoots the other boy a livid glare, but just as quickly looks back out the window, and doesn't stop until his mother is out of sight. The conductor arrives to ask for tickets, and everyone loses interest in joking; Ernst sits down at last to gloomily await his arrival at the academy.

Margit, meanwhile, is ordered back in the car--"If you don't get in, I'll leave you here," Walther vows--and they head home. From that point on, things are very strained. Margit refuses to even talk to her husband for a good long while, and when she does it's to rebuke him for abandoning "my boy." She definitely doesn't share a bed with him anymore. When a letter from Ernst arrives from the academy, Walther intercepts it, reads it, is infuriated all over again; even being away from home, Ernst's attitude toward his mother hasn't changed, and Margit's attitude hasn't changed, either. Walther tears the "vile" letter up and throws it away, though Margit manages to fetch it out, put it back together, and read her son's profession of his feelings for her. Walther manages to keep any other letters from getting through, so she doesn't get to hear from him for the next couple of years or so. And then, the Great War begins.

The dreadful news comes: Those at the military academy who are of age will be sent off to the Western Front. Margit doesn't even get the chance to see her Ernst one more time before he's sent off to fight. She breaks down sobbing, and spends the next several years in utter torment; Walther doesn't have to intercept letters anymore, as Ernst doesn't send any. The army sends no notice that anything's happened to Ernst, but this isn't much of a comfort to Margit, who slips into a deep depression. She largely ignores Walther, who sticks by her nonetheless; he still dimly hopes this is what's best for their son, though he hadn't counted on a war breaking out. He's admittedly anxious about Ernst, as well.

A letter at last arrives shortly before the armistice is declared: Ernst Dannecker has been wounded, but not seriously; he'll be coming home. The Danneckers arrive at the railway station to wait. Margit cranes her neck and anxiously watches everyone who disembarks, looking for her boy. It's only after most of the passengers have already gotten off that a young man climbs off with his bag, keeping his arm pressed close to his side; he doesn't really catch Margit's attention aside from the fact that he's wearing a military uniform. She looks at him until he finishes fiddling with his luggage, stands straight, then just happens to look in her direction--and freezes. The two of them stare at each other; Margit is confused, she was waiting for her gangly awkward boy, yet this is a tall, well-built man. But there's no mistaking those eyes, or the way he looks at her. It's been several years, after all. Of course her Ernst is all grown up now.

The three head home; Dannecker has a wound to his side but it isn't too bad. Nonetheless, his mother fawns over him, repeatedly exclaiming over how much he's changed--maybe serving in the army wasn't such a bad idea. Dannecker is both taller and more fit than his father now, and when the two of them look at each other, it's very awkward; Walther has to avert his eyes, as Dannecker can be intimidating with merely a glance, now. They sit for dinner, talk a little, then retire to the parlor for drinks, talk some more. After a while Walther starts to nod off, finally slumping in his chair, snoring. Margit catches Dannecker's attention--she's holding a little bottle. She slipped something in Walther's drink to knock him out. The two of them smile at each other, then leave the room together. All that time away in the military didn't change everything; Dannecker is still his mother's boy.

The two of them aren't as subtle about it as they used to be, mostly because Walther doesn't have much leverage over his son anymore--all Dannecker has to do is look at him and he realizes he stands no chance in a fight. He really has no choice but to put up with it. Dannecker, meanwhile, moves up in the world; when a paramilitary organization called the Schutzstaffel forms, it looks to be exactly what he's interested in; he resigns his military post to join, and is assigned to a camp as a guard. Margit proudly irons his new uniform and polishes all the shiny bits like a good obedient wife; Walther chafes but does nothing.

Dannecker quickly earns a reputation in the camp. He'd already told his mother of some of the things he did at the front, including his behavior toward the women; Margit finds it distasteful but obviously he did such things only because he had to, growing boys have needs after all. He seemed anxious that she'd be angry, yet she isn't. This is another peek at the darkness lurking beneath the surface, however, and his job in the camp just seems to bring it out even more. There's one especially nasty incident in which a Jewish prisoner, seeing Dannecker approaching, turns and runs straight at the fence, electrocuting himself; it turns out he'd had a run-in with Dannecker while they served at the front. It also turns out they'd had an interaction before that, when he'd so casually called Dannecker "mama's boy." Dannecker has a very long memory when it comes to perceived offenses, and is more than willing to act on them. Which puts his own father directly in his sights: Despite how well it may have turned out for him personally, he still resents Walther for separating him from Margit all those years. Walther has good reason to avert his eyes.

I'm not sure what it is, but one day something sets Walther off, makes him lose his temper; maybe he catches them together in his own bed. Whatever it is, he snaps and starts screaming at them like the first time, except this time he no longer considers Dannecker a victim--he's a rival now, going along with it willingly. Again, Dannecker refuses to leave when Walther yells at him to, and only a soft word from Margit makes him obey; he glowers at Walther as he passes, a glare much like the one he gave the young man who called him "mama's boy." Walther ignores the implication, and continues arguing with Margit; this is it, he insists--Dannecker will have to move out. When Margit says she'll simply go along with him, Walther replies, well then, he's going to make a call tomorrow, and inform Dannecker's superior officers of exactly what's going on. Given the SS and their rules and regulations, there's no way they'll permit such "degenerate" behavior to continue unchecked--Dannecker will surely lose his position in the SS-Totenkopfverbände, and face possible punishment, as well. Margit has no response for this, as she knows it's true; Walther says he's going to sleep on the couch, and they'll pick this up in the morning. He exits, and Margit sits in the bed crying until she falls asleep.

Walther doesn't know that after he left the room, Dannecker didn't retreat to his own bedroom as he did when he was a boy; he listened to the entire conversation. After Walther falls asleep on the couch, he slips into the room silently and approaches. Walther wakes abruptly when Dannecker makes a small sound, and blinks up at his silhouette in the dimness, mumbling, "Ernst?"--right before Dannecker shoves a pillow down over his face. Walther fights back as much as he's able, but his own son is a lot stronger than he is now, thanks to all that training Walther sent him off to, and it isn't long before his motions grow weaker and slower and then he falls still, going limp. Dannecker continues pressing the pillow over his face for a few moments more until he's sure the job is done--like I said, he's very patient when he sets his eyes on a target--then he carefully lifts it and sets it aside, damp side hidden. He closes Walther's eyes, repositions his sprawled limbs, and draws the blanket back up to look like he's still merely sleeping, before heading back to his own room. He falls asleep easily.

Early in the morning, Margit wakes, gets out his uniform, iron and shine, makes him a quick breakfast. Glances at her husband still sleeping on the couch but doesn't disturb him as she doesn't want to deal with him right now. Dannecker gives her a small kiss before he leaves--they look and act just like mother and son, nothing untoward, though once he's gone she agonizes over what they're going to do next. She can't bear to be separated from her boy, yet she can't endanger his job. She grows more anxious as the morning goes on, no solutions coming to mind; all she can think of is divorce, though Walther is unlikely to let her go without a fight. It finally occurs to her that it's almost noon and he hasn't awakened yet; she at last goes to rouse him, steeling herself for an altercation. He doesn't respond to her voice, not even to her gently shaking his arm; growing concerned, she tries to turn him toward her. Then gasps and recoils--his skin is cold, eyes half closed, mouth slack, a bluish tinge to his lips. Margit shrieks and heads for the phone--she tells the operator to call the camp, and begs to speak with Dannecker. When he's at last put on the phone he has to order her to calm down, she's grown so hysterical. She manages to tell him she's found Walther no longer breathing--apparently a heart attack, she has no other idea what to think--and she needs Dannecker there. He promises to come as soon as he can, and ends the call. Margit takes a moment to try to settle herself before it occurs to her how calm Dannecker himself was throughout the exchange, not raising his voice even once as she cried and babbled over the phone; something compels her to go look at Walther again. She can hardly bear it, yet she looks him over without touching him--nothing amiss--but she notices the pillow sitting against the back of the couch, atop Walther's leg--something about it seems off. She gingerly picks it up, turns it over. The other side is damp. Margit immediately drops it back where she found it, full of dread. She tries to tell herself it can't be what it's starting to look like.

Dannecker arrives with an SS doctor in tow; he looks Walther over, confirms his death (obviously), but seems puzzled when Margit suggests a heart attack; she admits he has no history of heart issues, yet what else could it be? The physician replies that Walther's eyes have tiny hemorrhages in them: a sign of suffocation. The dread rises even higher in Margit's breast; yet the doctor says perhaps he choked on something in his sleep, and calls a team to collect Walther's body and take him away for autopsy. He expresses his condolences and they all depart, leaving Dannecker and Margit behind.

Dannecker comforts Margit as she cries and remembers how poor her last exchange with Walther was; the comments he makes in response start out sympathetic, but slowly grow more resentful. Margit picks up on this and the dread seeps back; when Dannecker outright says, "He asked for this, keeping you away from me," Margit looks up at him and finally whispers, "Ernst...don't tell me you...?" He doesn't even deny it, just repeats that Walther was the one keeping them apart, of course he had to act. He seems genuinely confused when Margit reacts with horror--"Ernst! He's your father! I didn't mean THAT [you should kill him]...!"--though the more she protests that she didn't want him to do this, the more the perplexed look on his face changes; his eyes grow dark, his mouth turns down. The ugly malice just under the surface peeks out--this time, it's directed right at her. And for the first time, Margit is afraid of her own son, as she knows exactly what he's capable of--he told her himself. As horrifying as his own actions are, as much as she didn't want him to do this, she realizes she can't afford to cross him as he could do the same to her. She immediately changes tack, brings out her soft sweet placating voice, touching his arm and pressing close and calling him her boy, promising that they'll stick to the story Walther must have choked in his sleep and they're the proper mourning wife and son. Anything to protect his position. She's terrified of getting on his bad side, but just as when he was a teenager, the tactic works; the malice fades from his eyes, the tension leaves his muscles, slowly her sweet loving boy returns. He agrees to go along with her plan.

Margit now knows exactly where she stands: Dannecker can, and will, turn on her as quickly and easily as he's turned on everyone else who's wronged him, if she sets him off. He won't give her a pass simply because she's his mother and his lover. This is something she never counted on dealing with; she's never come across anything like this. She knows there's something fundamentally wrong and broken inside "her sweet boy" and no amount of her love and affection, however twisted, can fix it. She's walking through a field of landmines same as everyone else, and she acts accordingly, being extra careful to remain in Dannecker's good graces. She likely won't get any second chance.

Fortunately for Margit, she's good at what she does. She and Dannecker convincingly play the roles of devoted wife and son in grieving; Walther's death is perfunctorily investigated by the Allgemeine-SS, then the file is quietly closed and life goes on. Dannecker and Margit continue living in the same house and now freely share each other's bed. (They aren't aware that the Allgemeine-SS never COMPLETELY shuts down its observation--they've picked up that something is off, but don't have enough to act on, and their chief, Col. Heidenreich, advises them to tread softly to avoid a scandal.) Margit continues keeping house as if tending to her husband, even while gently prodding Dannecker once in a while that he should look into starting a family of his own, as the SS requires. Dannecker resists the advice--she's all he wants, there is nobody else. And it's true--he's never cared about anyone else in his life but her. It isn't love the way normal people feel it, but it's the closest his broken psyche can experience, and he feels it only for her. He doesn't want to get married, to be with any other woman, to start a family, if it isn't with her. Margit knows this is impossible--she never had a family with her father, for example--yet is sure not to push too hard lest she set him off. There's plenty of time to change his mind.

Except, as it turns out, there isn't. I think this occurs shortly before Dannecker is promoted and sent to watch over his own camp, though I'm not 100% sure. Margit faints one day and falls while Dannecker is at work; he nearly panics when he returns home and finds her on the floor. She insists she's all right, just tired--she's been fatigued lately--but with this, and the nasty bruise she's suffered, he doesn't even need convincing, he calls a physician. Margit is taken to hospital for tests and observation. After a while, a doctor appears with a sorrowful look and bad news: Blood cancer. This is the late 1930s/early 1940s; there's no effective treatment for leukemia yet. No matter how much Dannecker protests, and then threatens, that they need to try more, there's nothing much they can do, aside from trying to keep her comfortable and manage her symptoms. Dannecker's not used to his demands being refused; Margit has to calm him down so he doesn't target the doctor. She tries to keep her head for her son's sake, though when they're alone she fights not to break down, crying, "I'm afraid, Ernst." Although obviously just as rattled by this news, he comforts her again, promising to stay by her no matter what--she's his mother, his love, after all.

Margit rapidly declines; the disease is fast acting, aggressive. The morphine keeps her in a stupor much of the time, during which Dannecker forces himself to return to work, though when she wakes he's there to hold her hand and stroke her hair. The hospital staff take note of their odd closeness, but say nothing. One day in a moment of painful lucidity, Margit finally does break down: "I can't bear you seeing me like this, Ernst. I don't want your last thought of me being a shriveled little shell in this bed. I want you remembering me how I was." Dannecker insists he doesn't care how she looks, but she grows more and more adamant; she doesn't want to go this way. And then, meekly, she broaches the subject: "My Ernst, isn't there...isn't there something you can do...?"

This is Nazi Germany, and Dannecker is in the SS. He works in a camp. The Nazis have ways of dealing with people they deem a burden on society, "life unworthy of life"--and among these are the physically infirm, the terminally ill. People like Margit. Euthanasia, as it's so optimistically called, is legal. Dannecker knows immediately what his mother is asking of him as he's helped oversee the termination of countless unworthy lives himself. He pales, then grips Margit's hands harder and insists, "Mama, you don't mean it. That's just your sadness talking. There are other things we can do." She insists, though--the doctors have said there are no other options, and she doesn't want to suffer to the very end: "Bitte, my Ernst, you can't let me, you must be able to help me." She grows more strident and despondent the more he tries to talk her out of it and at last he realizes there will be no changing her mind; for once she stands firm against his pleas. And eventually he stops arguing. She can tell from the look on his face that her decision crushes him inside yet he calls the doctor back to consult with him.

The doctor comes to talk with the two. Margit knows of the SS's euthanasia programs but something she ISN'T aware of is the exact method used--what the Nazis call "euthanasia" isn't really a "good death" at all for most people. So no, Dannecker can't offer her this option himself, unless she wants to go in the gas chamber. The doctor is sympathetic and suggests a drug overdose--done properly it'll be like drifting to sleep. Margit jumps at the idea; Dannecker isn't happy, but doesn't object. After making absolutely sure this is what she wants, and having her sign the proper forms with Dannecker as witness, he brings in the proper equipment and administers the drug, then retreats a bit so Dannecker and Margit can sit together and wait. The two stare at each other while Dannecker clasps Margit's hand and she strokes his face, smiling and murmuring, "My sweet boy." Her voice and motions start to slow down though she does manage to tell him, "I'll always be there for you...I'll never leave you," before her eyes drift closed and she dozes off. After a little while longer, her breathing stops. Dannecker puts his head to her chest but can't hear anything; the doctor returns to check her vitals, finds that her pulse has stopped. He tells Dannecker the news though it's obvious already. Dannecker just stares mutely at his mother, his eyes wet. It's probably the first and only time he's ever cried over anyone.

Life goes on, though it's dull and tedious with an empty bed and no one there to greet him when he returns home, no one who "gets" him the way only Margit did. He gets a shiny new post as commandant of his own labor camp and moves into a nice big house nearby but even that doesn't do much to assuage the hurt, which is a really strange emotion he's not used to feeling. Then while walking down the sidewalk one day, in a bit of a hurry, he rounds a corner without watching where he's going and slams into somebody else who's also walking too fast and not watching where they're going. The other person drops their grocery bag; Dannecker drops, period, losing his balance and hitting the ground. He angrily snaps, "Watch where you're--!" before his eyes lock on somebody standing several feet away--a young girl, petite, in a long dress, with long blond braids and big blue eyes. The two of them stare at each other in silence as the woman Dannecker had run into hurries to pick up his own scattered items and help him up, apologizing profusely. A few other children, two boys and a younger girl, also stand to the side, but it's the oldest one Dannecker can't stop staring at. She's the spitting image of a much younger version of his mother.

He finally notices the older, frumpier woman trying to assist and placate him--obviously his SS uniform has her rattled, and she's terribly apologetic, taking the blame for his fall, retrieving his belongings before seeing to her own. He pushes himself up, dusts himself off, takes back his papers, grumbles for her to watch where she's going from now on; she thanks him repeatedly for his leniency, collects her scattered groceries, urges her children to come along now, she's so sorry, so sorry. Dannecker and the teenaged girl continue staring at each other as the little family passes by. She even glances back at him while they're walking off before turning away. Dannecker can't stop staring after her. He's distracted all that day, returns home at night, lies in bed staring at the ceiling. Murmurs softly, "Is it a sign? Is it you...?" He's not religious or spiritual whatsoever...but those braids, those eyes, that face. Margit had promised she'd never leave him. Is this her? Has she come back to him? He knows that was not literally his mother...but just maybe, his mother sent her to him. It must be a sign.

Dannecker has connections, and he's patient and perseverant. He does some asking around, some digging. Finds out the frumpy woman's name is Else, and her older daughter's name is Margarethe. "Margarethe," Dannecker whispers to himself; even her name is like his mother's. This is all the proof he needs that the two of them are meant to be. Margit had told him, after all, that one day he should have his own family, and hopefully his own daughter, to carry on what Margit had taught him and what her father had taught her. He's never been interested in starting a family, yet here is one ready made for him. He has a new pet project. When he learns Else is a widow, he starts making his plans to win her over. He's not interested in her in the least--Gret is the one his heart is set on. He's willing to do whatever it takes to get her, and eventually, he does.

Here's Dannecker's entry, somewhat outdated but the rest of his story. Here's Gret's.

Dannecker fulfills his mother's vow that the cycle of abuse would continue with him as the perpetrator and Gret as the next in a line of victims, including himself and Margit, that goes back who even knows how far. Gret, however, finishes the cycle, by participating in his murder--the abuse ends with her. It's a bit ironic, though, that she DOES repeat her stepfather's behavior: He murdered his own father as well. So although she manages to break free of the abuse itself, she doesn't ENTIRELY free herself of his influence over her. She carries his sword as a weapon of defense...but it's still also a symbol of the man who should have protected her unconditionally, yet ended up hurting her most of all.

[Margit Dannecker 2023 [‎Friday, ‎February ‎17, ‎2023, ‏‎3:00:10 AM]]

[sinni-ok-sessi]

ok so I do feel like now that I’m no longer running on a high of eurovision and inadvisable mixed drinks I should caveat that the maiden king trope is fundamentally misogynistic, a ‘look at this uppity woman thinking she can rule alone, let’s watch her get violently put in her place’ kind of thing (with a couple of exceptions) and a fair amount of the time, that does involve sexual assault

(cut for length)

That Said, there are often some extremely good Gender Things that happen before the eventual comedown - one of my favourites is a scene from the later redaction of Hrólfs saga Gautrekssonar in which Hrólfr comes to seek the hand of the maiden king - now calling himself Þórbergr and using male pronouns and the title of king - and makes his proposal entirely while addressing the king as ‘sir’ and ‘my lord’. (Þórbergr is one of my favourites for Gendery Fuckery, because ok, once he’s defeated in battle by Hrólfr and co, he goes back to presenting as a woman, but later on when Hrólfr is captured, he takes up armour again and Hrólfr doesn’t recognise the ‘most warlike man’ standing before him until he takes off his helmet and Hrólfr recognises his spouse)

(note: I use male pronouns and the name Þórbergr for this character because he is really very explicit that that’s how he wants to be addressed, when he has the freedom to choose - skyldi ok engi maðr svá djarfr, at hana kallaði mey eða konu, en hverr, er þat gerði, skyldi þola harða refsing (and no man should be so bold as to call her maiden or woman, but that each who did so should suffer harsh punishment, ch. 4))

Other gender fuckery faves include the queen in the longer redaction of Mágus saga jarls, who is married somewhat against her will to an arrogant king who then treats her terribly, eventually leaving for battle and telling her when he returns, she needs to have acquired treasures equal to his horse and hawk, and also a son (he has thus far refused to sleep with her). While the king’s away, he encounters the mysterious Jarl Híringr, who beats him at chess, winning the king’s horse and hawk from him. When the king finds the earl’s wife alone, he plans to take revenge, not realising that this is in fact his own wife (as was the earl) and he is thus helping her fulfil his impossible terms. Jóhanna Katrín Friðriksdóttir has a recent article on performed masculinity in the saga that I really enjoyed.

Dínus saga drambláta gets a heavy rape content warning unfortunately, but if it didn’t have that one scene, it would be a very fun saga! Dínus and Philotemía are narrative foils, extremely similar in their immense learning and lack of interest in marriage, both preferring to sequester themselves in towers with 40 of their most attractive same-sex companions. Philotemía decides she wants to test Dínus’ skills to prove which of them is superior, so the two of them play a series of magical tricks on one another, and then eventually maybe an angel shows up to prevent a war?

and OK I always feel bad going on about Mábilar rímur so much because there is no translation and no actual published edition, just a transcript of one of the manuscripts (available here: https://www.dropbox.com/s/145wgsvxffhh2uc/R%C3%ADmur%20fyrir%20si%C3%B0askipti%20-%20n%C3%BAt%C3%ADmastafsetning.zip?dl=0 ignore the weirdness with the titles, the text files themselves are fine) but it’s So Good. Mábil is born big and strong, and decides this means Nature intends for her to learn to fight, which she does, and she’s the mightiest warrior of all except when she’s on her period (sidenote, I’m not sure the poet really understood how periods worked? but this is the earliest extant references to menstruation in Icelandic outside of medical treatises, so that’s pretty cool. also there’s a kenning for it: það kvenlegt klæða mein (womanly damager of cloth), which is neat)

meanwhile, Mábil’s new stepmother Medía has schemed her way into a new husband and is now scheming to get Móbil married off to various men she wants to control. She and Mábil have a very acrimonious penpal relationship in which she sends soldiers to capture Móbil and Mábil sends back bits of them in bags with a note. She’s also a witch and when she has eventually succeeded in cpaturing Móbil and marrying her to her half-brother Blávus, she enchants a goose to drop a magic seed into Móbil’s mouth, which sends her into a blood frenzy so she kills Blávus and is then entombed alive with his corpse. More batshittery ensues, Medía’s actual daughter tries to help her stepsisters and also gets put in the mound too at one point (she plays chess with Móbil, they’re fine). Another witchier witch tries to curse Mábil? A lot of stuff happens and it’s great and the rímur end (in the later redaction) with Mábil rescuing her sister and them going off together. (There’s an even later saga version where Mábil gets married off and then dies of rage on the battlefield, but I usually pretend it doesn’t exist.)

anyway. those sure are some texts. I think most of the sagas are probably on snerpa.is somewhere if you read Old Norse, and I know HsG at least has an English translation, not sure about the others

there are a bunch of other maiden king sagas/more like sagas with maiden king episodes:

Sigurðar saga þögla (content warning for extremely dubious coerced consent) Hrólfs saga kraka (content warnings for rape, incest and probably a few more things. Hrólfr’s dad is the fucking worst) Klári saga Nítíða saga (a rare example where the maiden king is treated as a positive figure) Ála flekks saga (I haven’t read this or any of the following so no idea on content) Gibbons saga Partalopa saga Sigurgarðs saga frækna

if you liked the Norwegian entry, can I interest you in the medieval topos of the maiden king, very popular in Norse romances?

[signedaiko]

Hi, can I request headcanons with MTMTE Megatron, Swerve and Ratchet being challenged to live for few days on Earth in their holomatter avatars with their human (girl) crush (that also has crush on them), I mean how would it look like if they try to act like normal humans, but they don't understand humans habits ( if it's not a problem, please include in it what would happend if they for some reason walk out of bathroom naked )

Megatron [MTMTE]

- The lost light had docked recently, allowing many to visit the ever evolving earth - Of course the human liaison was going to go! You had people to see and things to do and get before you left again - Megatron decided to escort you after Ravage 'persuaded' him to accompany you - More like worry the warlord to death than you might end up in danger and remind him of the dangers of the human world - Ravage may have over exaggerated...a lot - You got your hotel and travel couvered for you by the space program you worked with, and Megatron naturally stayed with you - Megatron was smart and could figure out most things - Pleasantly surprised at how nice a warm shower felt, and used one of your soaps - It smelt just like you, and relaxed him to no end - He didn't seem to understand the concept of frying off, and when he tossed his clothing back on it was SOAKED and transparent - " Are you okay, y/n? your face is red " - " Yeah uhm... let's get you dried " - One blow-dryer and an hour later he was sparkling fresh - So was the image of his shirt sticking to his toned chest in your head

Ratchet [MTMTE]

- Normally he didn't wish to participate in games aboard the LL - But the thought alone of you going on your own AND his only other option being going with the rest was too worrisome - So he took the dare with pride, and requested to accompany you - Trying human food was a pleasant surprise to him, they all tasted so peculiar - He would try all kinds of snacks with you as you indulge in treats you hadn't touched in well over a year - Once however, while you were introducing him to your friends, someone pointed out how he chewed with his mouth wide open - Quickly grabbed you to leave, he was very flustered - " You never told me, y/n " - " I didn't want to stop you! You never looked so happy! " - The grumpy bot then stuck to drinks until you returned home - But he didn't show you all the snacks he saw you enjoyed most that he piled into a crate for the ship until you had taken off ;)

Swerve [MTMTE]

- Basically initiated the dare on himself by making a bet he knew he would lose - You took very kindly to having him join you on your voyage - After the amount of media he consumed, he knew more than you! - So he seemed to adapt rather well, to most things except the lack of a laugh track - Whenever he made a joke and it was silent, the mech got pretty upset or worried something was wrong with the world - " Laugh tracks are edited in " - " They are WHAT " - Unacceptable! he gets a little device that plays a laugh track whenever he clicks a button - Very content with himself, but also with how you seem to smile when he does it - Or maybe you really do find his jokes funny! A bot can dream

----------------

Authors Note - I included your final request with only one because I have limited space to round around two whole events without skipping too many hot deets!!!!

[kurosukii]

𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐡 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐡

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

summary: your best friend has been dying to know the guy you’ve been fooling around with since your twenty-first birthday; you wish you could tell her, but the mystery man is no other than her father.

genre: smut, age gap, best friend’s dad au

warnings: 18+. DILF KUROO. dubcon, manipulation, slight somnophilia, spanking, pussyjob, alcohol consumption, dumbification, hair pulling, virginity loss (...social construct), oral (f receiving), overstimulation, size kink, corruption kink, daddy kink, daddy issues, dirty talk, degradation, praise, unprotected sex, nipple play, creampie, cumplay, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, choking, spitting, mating press, clit spanks, begging, fingering, slight exhibitionism, finger sucking, tie kink(?? he makes you wear his tie so...)

word count: 5.2k

author’s note: for @sugawara-sweetheart’s decadence collab! thank you so much for letting me join! shoutout to @stopisa for that ✨lovely✨ dilf convo. (dilf kuroo AAAAAAAAAAAAAA) (let me know if i missed any warnings!) (MINORS DNI)

º thank you @meiansmistress and @ssrated1volleyballplayer for editing and beta reading <33

[12:24 PM]

“come on! you have to tell me who he is!”

you grip the handle of your spoon harder than normal, hoping your best friend doesn’t see your reaction.

you open your mouth to say something, but she cuts you off with a comment that makes shame and embarrassment burn through your body.

“you guys were really loud last night! well, you were. i didn’t hear so much as a peep from your man—well aside from the occasional murmurs, which i’m pretty sure was dirty talk…” she trails off, looking lost in thought.

you squirm and wince at the wet pool between your legs. the wet pool being cum that he told you to keep warm just before he left.

she sees your discomfort and laughs at your predicament, clearly thinking it was the aftermath of a hard night of fucking—it was, but she didn’t need to know about the sticky cum that was still inside your pussy.

“he clearly fucked your brains out! at least one of us is getting dick!” she exclaims, her lips forming into a pout as she takes her finished bowl of ramen to the sink and rinses it with water.

yeah, you are getting dick—not just anyone’s dick, however, because it’s her father’s.

your stomach churns at the thought, not from disgust, but from guilt and shame. you are way past getting disgusted with what you’re doing and who you’re doing it with.

not when her father never fails to make you cum at least three times in one night, not when he calls you his good girl and cockslut, and certainly not when you called him over last night because you were so pent up and you needed your daddy’s cock.

last night…

“you’re such a cockslut,” kuroo growled, his balls slapping against your ass as he delivered a hard thrust that had you creaming and moaning all over his cock. you bunched the sheets in your hands, wincing with slight discomfort when he folded your body in half while he pounded relentlessly inside you.

“you should see how dumb you look with your eyes all crossed and teary while your tits are bouncing everywhere.”

you squealed when he roughly flipped you on your stomach, large hands grabbing your hips as he entered you once more. he lifted one hand and slapped your ass in sync with his thrusts.

“so drunk on my cock now, huh? can’t live without it, hm?” kuroo taunted you, one hand squeezing your hip while the other spanked your ass until it was burning with pain. you moaned words incoherently, tongue lolling out as drool seeped from the corners of your mouth.

“daddy! more, please!” you moaned loudly, toes curling from the pleasure.

“you’re brave for calling me over, knowing that only a thin wall is separating you from my daughter’s room,” he hissed, pounding your pussy from behind.

“but i guess that doesn’t matter to you anymore as long as i fill this dirty pussy with my. hot. cum—fuck!” he ended each word with a hard thrust, cursing when your tight cunt clamped down on him.

“faster, daddy! your cock’s filling up my pussy so well—oh my god!” you screamed, partly aware that you shouldn’t scream his name, for fear that your debauchery with your best friend’s father would be revealed too soon.

kuroo indulged you, teeth bared as he pushed your back into a deeper arch, making his cock reach places he hadn’t before. you winced when his large cock teased the entrance of your cervix. it was always a trip taking him—no matter how many times he fucked you, his cock always stretched your pussy wide open.

“w-wait, it h-hurts daddy!” you whined, moving forward to escape the brutal thrusts of his hips so you could adjust your position. he growled in disapproval, tightening his grip on your hips as he roughly pulled you back on his dick.

“take my cock. i know you can do it, whore.” he hissed, moving your body back and forth on his cock like you were a fuckdoll. you moaned from both pain and pleasure as kuroo guided your hips, fingers leaving bruises on your skin.

you cried out when kuroo tugged your hair from its roots, pulling your body upright until your back met his sweaty chest. “yeah that’s a good fucking pussy. come on slut, squeeze daddy’s cock,” he whispered in your ear, teeth biting your earlobe.

“d-daddy i can’t—i’m going to cum!” you squealed, voice cracking as your body started shaking from your fast approaching orgasm.

“i’m going to cum too, baby—and don’t you fucking dare waste my cum,” he growled, wrapping his arms around your body.

you fell forward on your shaking arms, sheets bunched tightly in your fingers as moans and whimpers freely fell from your lips.

“i want it to stay inside your dirty cunt until tomorrow,” he ordered you, reaching for your arms and holding your wrists in one hand, the other slapping your already swollen ass.

you cried out when your face was smothered by the sheets, drool staining the pillow as the headboard continuously thumped against the wall. your body shook with his thrusts, breasts swaying with the movement.

“i want you to look my daughter in the eye and have a normal conversation with her—just like you always do—while you’re thinking about how slutty you are with her father’s cum inside your pussy.”

that was last night. a couple hours ago, if you were to be specific, since kuroo fucked you until you passed out on your bed. you only woke up when your best friend practically broke the door down—bed empty of him, thank god—saying that she made lunch. she looked pretty disheveled herself and she blamed it on your headboard hitting the wall all throughout the night.

you buried your face into the pillow to cover your guilty expression, groaning at the movement because your body was aching all over. she laughed and left you to your own devices, still recovering from him.

he has a crazy appetite for a man his age, to be honest. he may be an older man but he fucks like a teenage boy who recently discovered sex and became hypnotized by the pleasure of it. you lost count of how many times your best friend—his daughter—almost caught you and him fucking around in the apartment, their house, and even his car.

it wasn’t always like this though. there was a time when you only saw him as a fatherly figure and not someone who regularly uses you as a cocksleeve.

maybe it was the way he looked so good with a five-o-clock shadow, or how even with salt and pepper hair, he still acted youthfully. perhaps it was his signature cocky grin that lured your younger and more impressionable self towards him.

in truth, it was your daddy issues that led you to him.

you met your best friend the summer after high school. you bonded quickly over your common interests and quickly learned that it was just her and her dad. she confided in you and told you how lonely he was and she hoped that he would meet a nice and loving woman to take care of him. you comforted her and reassured her that he would meet that woman. if you only knew.

you couldn’t help but admit to yourself how envious you were of her and her father’s relationship, seeing as the one with your own was non-existent. you couldn’t wait to meet him, hoping that he would treat you as his second daughter since your best friend was basically your sister.

she failed to tell you—because why would she?—that her father is an attractive and charming specimen of a man his age. his eyes would crinkle at the sides when he laughed and his feline eyes would always look at you with warmth and tenderness.

you sigh as you put your chin on your fist, the sounds of dishwashing and humming filling your ears as you play the events that eventually led to your risky love affair with her dad.

you really feel ashamed, but it wasn’t your fault that her dad is so good to you. from the moment you met him, he made you feel so loved and appreciated. it was obviously innocent and familial at first, until it turned to something darker, more carnal.

his glances gradually became lingering and he started giving you sly winks that left you burning with desire. you tried so hard to fight it too, but you were too weak against his sweet talk and honey voice.

it was a year or two later that he finally made a move on you.

you figured that with a job that caused him to be in constant public eye, he would avoid fooling around with girls that were decades younger than him, but even with the heavy implications of a scandal, it still didn’t stop him from devouring you.

it all started one night when he invited you guys over, claiming that he missed the both of you. your best friend told you to go first because she was going to be out for her tutoring session. you internally shivered at the thought of being alone with him, not knowing what was going to happen once you were confined in a small space.

the sexual tension was so thick when you arrived and next thing you knew, you had your back on the dining table, legs spread in the air, with his mouth sucking and slurping on your pussy. you came with a scream of his name, cumming so hard for the first time in your life that your body ended up convulsing.

he had laughed at how blissed out you looked. “you taste even better than what i imagined, baby. thanks for the meal,” he purred, winking at you and leaving you to process what happened, hand wiping off the juices from his face as he went back to cooking dinner.

his daughter finally showed up and your face burned the entire time, unable to look her in the eye because not only did her father make you cum minutes prior, but he also was a tease and had his fingers inside your panties while talking to her, fingers slowly tracing circles on your clit.

the topic of conversation was your living situation. he was never happy about how the two of you wanted to live alone together because he insisted that it was better if you guys lived with him. at first you thought it was him being overprotective, but you came to understand it was because he wanted easy access to you.

he ended up fucking your throat that night out of sheer frustration, punishing you for being a bad girl and wanting to be away from your daddy.

you partly hoped it was a one time thing, but you were proven wrong when you had a movie night and your best friend dozed off on the long couch housing the three of you.

kuroo was under your blanket and between your legs in an instant. your shorts hung off of one ankle while he pushed your panties to the side.

“daddy! we shouldn’t be doing this—fuck!” you moaned as his lips sucked your clit into his mouth, tongue lapping up your slick.

“guess you just have to be quiet then, kitten,” he teased you. you arched your back and bit your lip to muffle your scream when he inserted a finger in your dripping cunt while his lips played with your clit.

you had no idea how your best friend didn’t wake up to the sounds of your muffled moans and whimpers, but that thought went away when you started riding her father’s face and cumming all over his mouth.

you became needier after that, eventually losing the hesitancy of being pleasured by him. instead, you anticipated the times when he would make you cum.

the deal was sealed on the night of your twenty-first birthday.

night of your birthday…

“hey girl, the postman came and said this was for you!” your friend slurred, clearly having had too much to drink for just a small and intimate celebration for your twenty-first.

you’d been buzzing the whole day, both from the alcohol and anticipation of what was going to happen later. you woke up to numerous happy birthday texts until you came across the one you’ve been so excited to see. your cunt gushed when you saw your daddy’s text, letting out a little moan at what he said.

happy twenty-first, kitten. you better be wearing my gift when i come over because i’m going to fuck your little pussy tonight.

you sucked in a breath as your face flushed. you held the smooth black nondescript box that was elegantly wrapped with a crimson satin ribbon. you had a pretty solid guess of what was inside and your best friend had as well, because she wiggled her eyebrows and teased you. you sighed, like father, like daughter.

how you were still able to look her in the eye after everything you’ve done and what you’re going to do with her dad is beyond you. his mouth, tongue, fingers—soon to be his cock—truly hypnotized and consumed your conscience and only left neediness in its wake.

you ducked your head to hide the embarrassment on your face while the rest of your friends that came over jeered and whistled as you walked towards your room to leave the box on your bed for safekeeping.

you left it sitting in the center of the bed and went back to the living room to enjoy, skin tingling the whole time in anticipation for your daddy...

you closed the door after saying goodbye to the last group of people and turned to your best friend. “thank you for the lovely little get together,” you thanked her shyly.

“you’re welcome, darling, but i’m sure the main event is just about to happen. tone it down a little, yeah?” she smirked at you, eyes glinting with mischief as she giggled on the way to her room.

you sighed, the guilt that was momentarily forgotten reared its head once more when you were finally alone in your room. it went away again when you studied the gift kuroo gave, nimble fingers leaving light touches on the box settled on your lap as you untied the ribbon.

you rummaged through the white crepe paper until you saw pieces of red lace that were as red as the ribbon that tied the box. he always loved the color, so it wasn’t a surprise that the lingerie he gifted you was of the same shade. your fingers shook when you took them out in front of you. these can barely cover anything, you gulped.

you caught a tinge of gold in the corner of your eye and saw that there was a white card peeking out amongst the paper. the card was lined with gold embellishments and there was a short message printed in red.

kitten, wear these for me. - k.t.

and who are you to not follow daddy’s orders?

you placed the garments at your side and set the box on the floor. you began to undress, removing your cotton bra and panties which you threw on the floor, somehow landing inside the open box.

your naked body was exposed to the cool air and you shivered, head buzzing and eyes slightly drooping from the alcohol you consumed. you took the lace with delicate fingers and gasped upon inspection of the panties.

you were taken aback by the design because not only did it lack enough cloth to cover your entire lower region, but they were crotchless. your mouth dried at the obscenity, hazy mind playing images of kuroo rutting into you without having to remove anything.

that was most likely his intention after all. you slowly stood up from the bed and softly moaned at the slickness between your thighs, pussy clearly excited and aching for his dick. you slipped your legs through them and grabbed the matching bra. you moaned when you clipped it on, nipples hardening when the lacy pattern rubbed against them.

you might as well be wearing nothing with the way you barely felt the fabric against your sensitive skin. you yawned as you laid on your back, the numerous glasses of wine you drank finally caught up with you.

you tried to fight it, you really did. but you were fighting a losing battle with your eyes and besides, you were only going to close them for a bit. you’d wake up before your daddy comes over, right?

you ended up dozing off. you woke up with a moan, alcohol already flushed out of your body. you slightly squirmed as you felt something wet on your tits and a moving pressure in your pussy. you slowly opened your eyes and found a large body looming over you.

“do you know how long i’ve been waiting to fuck you?” kuroo asked, lips pulling away from your clothed nipple with a pop when he realized that you were finally awake.

“three fucking years. yet you had the audacity to be asleep when i arrived? i’m going to wreck your slutty pussy, whore,” he growled as he scissored his long fingers inside your pussy faster. you cried out in pleasure, hands reaching for his wrist as you tried to slow his movements.

“d-daddy, i’m sorry!” you cried as you arched your back. he just grunted and removed his wet fingers from your cunt. you whimpered at the loss because his fingers always felt so good when they moved inside of you. he stared you down instead, large hands loosening his red tie—you noticed that it matched the lingerie you were wearing—and promptly removed it.

he bit his lip as he reached down and made you wear it instead, cock twitching in his pants as he reveled at the sight of you wearing his gift, and in his favorite color no less. he unbuttoned his white dress shirt, muscles rippling from the movement.

even though he didn’t play volleyball all that much anymore, he still maintained his toned body. if it weren’t for his salt and pepper hair, you wouldn’t think he was decades older than you. not that it mattered, anyway.

“you look so sexy in red, kitten,” he whispered, the sound of his belt unbuckling mixing with your heavy breathing. you gulped when you saw that he wasn’t wearing any underwear, eyes widening at the sheer size of him. he stepped out of his pants and smirked when he saw your reaction.

“fuck, your pussy is so pretty. can’t believe i waited this long to fuck it,” he hissed as he spread your legs, your crotchless panties baring your pussy to his eyes, making them twitch under his scrutiny.

he groaned as he rubbed his hard cock on your slit between your folds. you moaned at the stimulation, thankful that he didn’t thrust inside immediately because that would’ve been more painful than pleasurable.

“i was e-eighteen when we first met, y-you could’ve fucked me—oh that feels good—any t-time you wanted to, why didn’t you?” you stuttered as you shivered from the pleasure his slick cock was giving you.

you planted your feet flat on the bed as you took hold of his cock and humped it with fervor, moaning at the slick sounds it made with your lower lips.

kuroo hissed at the increase in stimulation, warm hands grabbing the back of your thighs and folding your legs toward your chest as he thrusted faster between your folds. you moaned louder as you let go of his throbbing cock to bunch the sheets in your fingers.

“you know what they say, good things come to those who wait,” he grunted, hips thrusting faster, making your pussy wetter and slicker.

“besides, you were still a shy and innocent girl back then—until i corrupted you, obviously,” he teased you as he moved one hand to your mouth, inserting his fingers between your lips. you moaned as you sucked, slightly tasting yourself on his fingers.

“i don’t think you could’ve handled this big...fat...cock,” he grunted as he clenched his jaw from the pleasure.

“but now? now you’re my little whore who’s about to know what it feels like to get fucked by a man,” he growled, separating himself from your body. you whimpered, arms reaching out for him but he held your wrists in one hand and placed them above your head.

“you’re already dumb when i fuck you with my mouth and fingers...they’re nothing compared to my dick,” he said frankly, fingertips lightly teasing your puffy clit, aching from the lack of release from the continuous stimulation of his cock. he let go of your wrists and moved his hand to your thigh, fingers circling your skin.

“i-i don’t think your cock will f-fit daddy,” you said in a small voice, staring at his twitching cock.

“nonsense baby, i trained you to deepthroat me, remember?” he reminded you, memories of all the times you sucked his cock filling both your minds.

“i’m going to train this pussy as well. you’ll be begging me to never leave your cunt after i’m done with you,” he declared, positioning himself between your legs again.

“now hump my cock again, kitten. faster this time,” he ordered you, fitting his cock between your lower lips once more.

“yeah just like that—fuck,” he groaned when you ground your clit with more force on his shaft. you cried out at the movement, pussy gushing out more of your juices.

“you like that, hm? like how you’re making my cock wet with your slick?” he taunted you, fingers squeezing the skin of your thigh as he rutted his hips faster.

“can’t wait for me to—shit—bottom out in that tight cunt?” he growled, basking in the heat emanating from your pussy.

you moaned loudly, hips rolling as the knot in your lower stomach threatened to burst. your breasts were freely swaying with each movement your hips made. you threw your head back as your mouth fell open, uncaring of the volume of your cries and whimpers.

“i’m cumming, daddy!” you screamed, pussy clenching around nothing as you drenched your daddy’s cock with your cum. kuroo followed suit, groaning loudly when he released his cum all over your stomach, staining the front of your barely-there panties.

“such a dumb cockslut, you came by just humping my cock?” he teased you. your face warmed in embarrassment, hiding your face in the pillows. kuroo chuckled, honey eyes glinting in mischief. well, he came by just humping your pussy, so he was one to talk.

he spread your lower lips, puffy clit exposed to the air. you shivered at the chill but quickly yelped when he spanked your clit a few times.

“d-daddy!” you exclaimed but he just laughed at you. “just wanted to slap your clit, baby,” he chuckled, hand slapping it once more.

you tried to squirm away from his spanks but he held you in place. he held his throbbing cock with one hand and guided it back to your clenching hole. he rubbed the tip against your sensitive clit before inserting his cock in your pussy.

“t-too big daddy!” you cried out, tears forming in your eyes as his cockhead went past your tight muscle.

“shh baby, i know you can do it. you can take my cock, yeah that’s a good girl,” he cooed, palm flat against your stomach with his thumb rubbing the skin. you sucked in a breath as he slowly slipped his cock inside your virgin pussy inch by inch.

“i’m gonna fuck you so good with my fat cock that you won’t even care if my daughter catches us,” he growled when he bottomed out. you whimpered at the force of his sudden thrust and the implication of what he said. he only let you adjust to his large cock for a few moments before he started thrusting lazily.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he taunted you as his thrusts increased in speed and strength. you moaned louder, body shaking with the thrusting of his hips.

“n-no s-stop! she’s going to hear you!” you begged, voice cracking when he folded your body in half. he began pounding ruthlessly into your pussy, the slick sounds of skin meeting skin filling the air and making you lightheaded from the pleasure.

“so? i dare you to scream my name, slut. watch her bust that door down,” he mocked you, hands pushing your knees further up your chest. you whimpered at the stretch, the sounds of the headboard thumping against the shared wall only served to make you clench around your daddy’s cock.

“fuck—how do you think her face would look when she sees you taking my cock like a good little bitch?” he growled when he felt you squeeze his cock. he grunted as he thrusted faster, balls slapping against your ass.

“yeah just like that, you want me to cum inside you? fill this slutty pussy to the brim? fuck my cum so deep into your pussy that you’ll get pregnant?” kuroo groaned, throwing his head back as he felt his abdomen tighten, the signal that his orgasm was fast approaching.

you held your bouncing tits in your hands, his silk tie only adding to your pleasure as it rubbed against your sensitive skin. “n-no please!” you pleaded, tears falling from your eyes.

“you’re on the pill, aren’t you?” he asked, jaw clenching because he was stopping himself from cumming immediately. he wanted to spill all of his load in one go, after all.

“y-yes daddy b-but—!” you squealed, stinging pain blooming in your chest when kuroo pinched your nipple.

“then take my fucking cum, whore,” he demanded, cock throbbing because he was so ready to spill all of his hot cum.

“n-no daddy! please don’t cum inside me!” you screamed, eyes rolling to the back of your head and tongue lolling out as his cock hit your g-spot.

“shut up and take it,” he growled, hands squeezing your waist as his thrusts grew erratic.

he groaned loudly when he saw your fucked out face, thrusting so deep that his cock teased the entrance of your cervix. his hot cum spurting out of his cock as he filled your pussy.

“daddy you’re cumming so much—oh my god!” you screamed as you came with him, legs shaking from the intense fucking.

“your cum’s filling up my pussy, fuck and it feels so hot too!” you cried out, throat raw from the sounds that came out of your mouth ever since he came inside your room.

kuroo removed his hands from your waist—one hand snaking around your neck, applying slight pressure to the sides as he rode your pussy to prolong his orgasm.

his other hand moved to straighten your leg, rubbing your outer thigh while he cooed at you. “you like my cum, baby?” he asked softly, hips slowly rocking back and forth. you whimpered, your overstimulated pussy aching from his never-ending thrusts.

his movements caused his cum to overflow and seep out the sides of his cock. the mixed fluids fell out of your pussy, sliding down your ass and drenching the sheets beneath you.

“don’t be shy, baby. you can tell daddy if you like his cum,” he encouraged you, leaning down to kiss you languidly on the lips.

“i-i love your cum daddy,” you tell him in between kisses.

“that’s my good girl. happy birthday, my sweet kitten.”

you open your eyes when your best friend throws the damp towel to your face. “quit daydreaming about him! you were moaning ‘daddy! daddy!’ like he was actually fucking you!” she yells while crossing her arms across her chest.

you duck your head in shame. great, now i’m even messier and wetter down there, you grumble. you wince when you hear the squelching sound—dear god i hope she didn’t hear it—as you shift to face her properly while she walks over to you.

“so! tell me more about him, what’s his name?” she asks animatedly, chin resting on her fists as she sits beside you on the island. you swallow thickly, a lump suddenly weighing down in your throat. you inhale a deep breath before coming up with a half-assed lie on the spot.

“he’s a shy and private guy...i’m not telling you his name yet because...i really want you to meet him in person, you know...?” you already know him—you’re related to him! you scream in your head.

your palms feel sweaty as your nerves are on the verge of frying themselves. you bite your lip while you rub your thighs together, wincing immediately as you feel her dad’s cum drench your panties and shorts further.

“well, judging by your reaction right now and the sounds last night, he’s not really the shy type when it comes to bedroom activities,” your best friend pouts at your secrecy and then smirks, eyebrows wiggling.

your face burns in embarrassment and guilt, if only she knew she was talking about her dad.

“anyway, i’m going to the library right now, i’m so done with this paper,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“take care and have fun laz—dad! what’s up? what brings you here?” she squeals in delight when she sees him and jumps into her father’s arms while he kisses the top of her head.

your pussy quivers at the sight of your daddy, and when his eyes land on you, he winks deviously then places his daughter back on the floor.

“can’t i visit my favorite girls on my day off?” he says to her while looking at you. your best friend is clearly oblivious to the desire that was swimming in her father’s sharp eyes.

“well, i’m going to the library to finish my paper. you guys can hang out in the meantime, but don’t watch our show without me!” she says as she walks out the door and ends her sentence with a click.

kuroo locks the door and turns to you, eyes glinting like a predator. he picks your body up and sits on the chair, settling you on his lap and wrapping his long arms around your middle. his large hand cups your cheek and he kisses you, earning a moan from your mouth when his tongue massages yours.

you kiss for a while and then he pulls away from your lips. he grabs your chin firmly, fingers squeezing your cheek open as he spits inside your mouth. you moan while swallowing his spit, hands reaching for his stubbled face before kissing each other sloppily once more.

“you keeping my cum warm for me, kitten?” he asks, lips separating from yours to leave kisses and nips on your jaw. you moan and squirm on his lap as his other hand sneaks inside the waistband of your shorts and inserts two thick fingers in your messy and dripping cunt.

“such a good girl for daddy. you kept his promise,” he growls lowly, biting the skin of your neck and leaving a mark which he soothes with his warm tongue.

“i think my kitten deserves a reward, hm? would you like that?” he asks you, fingers curling inside your tight walls.

“y-yes daddy!” you whimper, grinding your hips on his lap. he smirks and removes his fingers from your cunt and stands up from the chair. you whine at the loss of stimulation and he shushes you with his finger—the one he had inside of you seconds ago.

“let’s go to your room, shall we? daddy missed his favorite girl.”

[1:14 PM]