#full disclosure i do not mean ATE ate

[artificiallita]

hope yall are hungry for some traditional art bc ive come down with a sudden case of Cat Ate My iPad Charger

this is guillermo he’s a gay little idiot

[lowkeyerror]

Summer Secrets

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 13.2k

Notes: minor homophobia, some angst, cursing, fluff, soft Regina (only for reader), cheating (technicality), takes a lot from the movie but timeline may be different.

Summary: When tasked with showing Cady Heron around school, you two quickly become friends. When Cady comes in contact with Regina George you feel obligated to help her out. Things get complicated from there because you have a soft spot for the mean girl.

An: Full disclosure have never written this much for a single post, but I'm excited to share it with you guys. I hope you like it likes, replies, and reblogs are always appreciated 💜

Masterlist

For some people high school felt like the end-all-be-all of life. It made sense to some extent. Spending your formative years locked in a building with other hormonal youths forced to participate in some social hierarchical bullshit that only benefited the one percent, sounds like a nightmare. If you were lucky enough to do well, you’d get to spend some time as one of the top one percent. However, any wrong turn and you’d be remembered for whatever mistake you made for the rest of your school career.

It sounds over dramatic (cause it is), but it’s true. It’s your junior year in high school and people are still calling Janis Ian a pyro lez. On the other side of things, Regina George still enamored people. Many people fade in and out of popularity but not Regina. She held her crown in an iron clad grasp and would die before she let it slip.

You didn't really understand how Regina became popular. As far as you were concerned popular meant well-liked, but it didn't seem like anyone genuinely liked Regina other than Gretchen and Karen. Regina was cruel, but she was pretty and had money which in some convoluted way made her the queen bee.

You didn't play into the social dynamics of North Shore. You weren't some outcast or loner who was proud of being different, you weren't a nerd who got bullied by jocks, and you were not some popularity-obsessed junkie. You were just a person.

Someone who went to classes, ate lunch, then went to more classes, and subsequently left the school premises. So, while the school might have been a magnet for chaos, you felt like your experience was pretty normal.

Unfortunately, the normal way you went through school was about to drastically change.

For some unknown reason you had been selected to give a new student a tour of the school.

“Alright Katy this is Y/n, she’s going to be showing you around today. You got the same classes and lockers close enough together so, be friends or something and have a nice day,” principal Duvall was quick to usher you two out of his office.

“My name’s Cady by the way not Katy,” she broke the silence as she followed you down the hallway.

You stopped in front of her locker, “Welcome to North Shore Cady, try not to get sucked in to all the chaos.”

The girl gulps as she places her belonging in the locker, “Chaos?”

You take in her appearance, and she shifts under your gaze, “North Shore is kind of like that scene from High School Musical where they’re dancing in the cafeteria singing about the status quo. You seem like a sweet girl Cady, and the last thing you need to do is find yourself with a label on your forehead.”

Cady hears what you say, but she’s stuck on the fact that you called her a sweet girl, “I’ve been home schooled my entire life and now I feel like I’m being tossed to the wolves.”

You laugh, “I’d say that’s a pretty accurate analogy. As your guide, I can try to keep you out of the drama, but you are a new student, so you’ll get some kind of attention.”

You take Cady to homeroom and have her sit by you before class starts. You make a little small talk with her, until you’re interrupted.

“Y/n, who’s the new girl?” Janis plops directly behind you.

“Cady, this is Janis.”

Before Cady could speak to the goth girl, Damian interjects, “Is that your natural hair color? It’s gorgeous.”

Again, before the girl can speak for herself, the boy takes some of her hair in his hand, “See, this the color I want.”

Janis swats his hand out of Cady’s hair, “Sorry about that, Damian is too gay to function sometimes. He’s not the best with boundaries.”

The conversation doesn’t go any further as Ms. Norbury walks in. Ms. Norbury’s attempt at introducing Cady goes comically bad, but it’s not something that she harps on for long before starting class.

The rest of the classes seem to go by quickly and soon it’s time for lunch. You can see Cady’s head spinning as she looks at all the cliques.

“Who do you usually sit with?”

You shrug, “I usually don’t eat in here, it’s super stuffy. But if I do it’s usually either with the stoners or the art kids.

You stand quietly in line before Cady speaks up again, “What’s your label?”

“I don’t have one. I’m not some outcast or jock or anything like that. I’m an actual human being and labels are overrated.”

She nods slowly smiling, “That’s pretty cool.”

One you both gather lunch you go and sit at the edge of the stoner table. You give some greetings before turning your full attention to Cady.

“Ok, don't freak out but I won't be here tomorrow. So, you’re going to be on your own,” you break the news to the ginger.

She falters a bit, “Oh okay.”

You see her eyes land on Janis and Damian.

“Be careful with those two.”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Why they seem cool?”

You elaborate, “They are cool, but they have labels and roles to fit in to. They’ve got an affinity for ditching class and making up schemes. So don’t get sucked in to that stuff alright?”

Cady nods and then you see her eyes sparkle, “Who is that?”

You follow her line of sight and find yourself in a brief staring contest with the school’s queen bee. Your eyes dance over her features and time seems to slow down for a moment, until she finally looks away from you.

“That’s Regina George.”

“She seems important,” Cady says, noting how everyone around seems preoccupied with her.

You counter, “She carries herself that way, so no one really questions it. Regina is the most popular girl in school. The two with her are Gretchen and Karen. Some people call them The Plastics.”

“Got it, so I should steer clear?”

You shrug, “She’s a massive deal and some people would grovel for even a minute with her. She’s got a lot of influence around here. So, I would just say be careful of interacting with her. She’s as mean as she is pretty.”

“I don’t get it.”

You sigh, “It’s nuanced. You shouldn't be seeking out interactions with her but trust me you don't want to turn her away or brush her off if she approaches you. She can ruin the rest of your time here, so careful of her.”

One last time you look in Regina’s direction to see her laughing at some poor kid.

Cady sees this but decides against questioning it. The rest of the day goes by quickly and by the end of the day, you might just consider Cady your friend. You exchange numbers and tell her to make good choices in your absence.

It was some time the following night that you got a text from Cady.

Cady: I think I messed up today.

Y/n: What happened?

Cady: I got invited to sit with the Plastics.

The text conversation ends there as you can’t help but call the girl. She picks up immediately and starts rambling about her day. You silently listen from the other end of the line, almost in disbelief that all of that could happen in one day.

“So, you got encouraged to sit with Regina and her friends by Janis and Damian, who also made you skip class,” you try to follow.

“Yes.”

You continue, “And you have a crush on Aaron, from Calc?”

Cady blushes on the other line, “I don’t know? I just think he’s cute.”

You run a hand over your face, “Jesus Christ Cady, I’m gone for one day and this is what you get in to, Aaron is Regina’s ex."

She scrambles over the phone, “I don’t know it just happened. What do I do Y/n?”

“Tomorrow’s Wednesday, so the best advice I can give to you is wear something pink,” you joke over the line.

“Damian is letting me borrow his shirt.”

You couldn’t contain your laughter.

“It’s not funny, Y/n,” she whines.

“Tell him to keep the shirt. You can borrow something from me instead.”

Cady is grateful but she has a curious tone as she asks, “You don’t seem like the pink wearing type.”

You speak coyly, “What have I been saying about labels Cady? You can’t put me in a box. Fun fact pink is one of my favorite colors.”

Cady’s next words are hesitant, “Maybe if you wear something pink too, they’ll let you sit too.”

“Cady, I have no desire to sit with Regina and her friends, but I don’t want to throw you to the wolves without at least trying to save you. So, for you, I’ll wear the pink, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll let me sit.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Cady praises you over the phone.

You chuckle, “Anything else?”

“Nothing that I can think of. You’re the best Y/n, I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

You smile, “Goodnight, Cady."

When the conversation ends you get out of your bed and head for your closet. For the most part it was filled with t-shirts, jeans, sweaters, and the occasional formal attire. You have to go deep into the back of it to actually find what you’re looking for.

You’re hesitant to pull it off the hanger. It’s a simple pink bomber jacket. It’s cute and the material is soft. Cady could wear it. The one thing that gives you great pause about letting her borrow it, is that the jacket had been gifted to you by Regina George.

You had grown up in North Shore, so you were always aware of Regina George. You’d gone through school together, even sharing some classes together. All this to say you knew the girl’s character. She had always been mean.

It was 2 years ago when your parents decided that a family vacation during the summer would be good for everyone in the house. You weren't complaining, it was good to get out of the city.

Your parents had gone all out and rented out a beach front property for the 3 months you had away from school. It was a gorgeous property, and you often found yourself enjoying the scenery.

The last thing you expected to see was Regina George. Yet coincidentally the home your folks rented was right next to a property owned by Regina’s family.

You didn’t have any need to acquaint yourself with her. So, for a few weeks into the vacation, you didn’t approach her. That didn’t stop you from looking at her. You always knew she was gorgeous, but it was a shame her personality didn’t match.

Eventually your staring caught her attention.

“Y/n, right?”

You frown as the sun you were using to read is blocked. You look up to see Regina standing in front of you. Her blue eyes pierce yours curiously.

“Yep, how can I help you?”

“Why so formal?”

You finally meet her eyes, “Well you are the most popular girl in our grade.”

Regina’s eyes divert from yours, “We aren’t in school right now.”

You nod, “You’re right. So, I can just tell you to fuck off.”

She sets up her things next to yours, “You could, but who says I will listen.”

You laugh a bit, “What do you want, Regina?”

She sighs, “Is it a crime to want some company?”

“It’s not,” you answer, before returning to your book.

“I haven’t seen you here before. I come every summer,” Regina tries for small talk.

You sit the book down and give the girl your full attention.

“My parents saved up to rent out a beach front property this summer. They said it’s good for family bonding,” you say.

“I’ve only really seen you,” Regina comments.

You shrug, “My parents are enthralled with each other. They’re rediscovering how much they love each other. Where are your parents?”

You see her shift under your gaze, “My dad is on some business trip or something and my mom is out somewhere with my little sister.”

That first interaction spurred on by Regina started something of a summer friendship. You had no expectations of keeping it when the summer ended. So, when she came to you nervous one of those summer nights saying that it was better not to interact at school, you weren’t surprised.

You told her you expected this from her and that it was fine, but that maybe you could continue this friendship next summer. That night she hugged you for what seemed like forever as an apology.

When school started back it was like you were strangers. You were surprised to receive some texts from her here and there. You’d always answer, and you’d be lying if you weren’t looking forward to summer.

When the next summer rolled around, as soon as your feet hit the sand you were nearly knocked to the ground. The queen bee locked her hands behind your neck and her legs wrapped around your waist.

“You miss me or something, Gina?”

“You have no idea, how much I’ve been looking forward to it.”

She pulls away to look at you but doesn’t unhook her legs from your face. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before you clear your throat. She drops down smiling innocently as a blush spread across your face.

“You look good,” Regina comments.

Your hand scratches the back of your neck, “Puberty or whatever, I guess.”

Her hand finds yours, “So what’re we doing first?”

Last summer was different than the first. It didn’t feel like you were further expanding the friendship, it felt like you were building something different with Regina.

Those suspicions were confirmed when her lips met yours one night when you both were watching the waves.

“You aren’t supposed to kiss me, Gina,” you whisper against her lips.

“Why not?”

You open your eyes to look into hers, “Because when we go back to North Shore, I’m going to miss this.”

She pulls away, “I’m sorry, I just-”

You chase her until her back is flat on the sand. You hover over her lips, before pecking them, “Be mine for this summer Gina.”

You can see the sadness in her eyes as she speaks, “I’m going to break your heart, Y/n.”

Your hand cups her face, “I know, but that’s not your problem.”

Regina shakes her head, “I care about you, Y/n. I don’t want-"

“Just let me down gently baby,” you plead with her.

She sees the desperation in your eyes as they search hers. Regina didn’t want to hurt you, she needed you to stay away from her. For once in her life, she was thinking about the consequences of her actions. However, pushing you away was not an option.

She captured your lips again. You deserved more, but you were begging for her. All she could do was keep her promise and let you down gently.

You thought you had prepared yourself for the summer to end. That was far from the truth because when you woke up the day before you left, Regina was already gone.

You thought she left without saying goodbye. You were wrong. When you went to the patio of your summer home, you found her goodbye. She left you her jacket, a letter, and a seashell necklace.

The letter itself had a few tear stains on it that made it hard to read. You didn’t think Regina was the type to put pen to paper, but you were used to being surprised by her.

I’ve tried writing this a bunch, but I keep fucking it up. I should’ve started with Dear Y/n or something, but that just didn’t sound right. I’m sorry for so many things, Y/n. You told me to let you down gently and here I am leaving without saying goodbye because I'm selfish. I’m mean, I’m selfish and I’m not good for you. When school starts, I have to uphold this image and as much as I want to say that it’s not me. It’s not true. I’m that girl that you know back home, but here with you… I feel this responsibility to be better. This summer meant everything to me. Every moment with you meant everything to me. I wish we could stay here because I’ve never been happier. I will never be happier then I was here with you. I don’t deserve to be. I hope this was gentle enough, baby.

Love,

Your Gina

Reading the letter stirs a plethora of emotions through your system. You let Regina break your heart and you hadn’t faced her since. The thought of getting close to her at school scared you. You knew the girl you had feelings for didn't exist during this time of year and if you got in her way, she’d surely take you down.

The next day you find yourself wearing a pink tank top mostly covered by your black zip-up hoodie. You send Cady a picture of the jacket advising her to find something that matched.

You arrive on campus and patiently wait for Cady to show up.

“Pink might be your color Y/n.”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up Janis and what are you planning with Cady and Regina?”

“I can't shut up and explain at the same time so…”

“I’m serious Janis. Cady is fresh meat for someone like Regina.”

Janis claps her hands together gleefully, “Fresh meat or a blank canvas. Regina stood up for Cady yesterday, which means she's taken an interest in her. Queen bee sees potential, which means Cady is either a successor or a threat.”

“Ok, what does any of that have to do with you?”

Damian enters the conversation at that point, “Oh it’s a part of her plan for revenge on Regina.”

Janis smacks the boy a few times. The end up play-fighting before you get between them.

“Enough! Revenge for what exactly?”

Janis’s eyes darken, “That information is classified I'm afraid.”

You glare back at her, “You shouldn’t drag Cady into this.”

Now it’s Janis who rolls her eyes, “If she wants to help out a friend who am I to stop her.”

You get up as soon as you spot Cady. With one final look back to Janis you say, “Friends don’t use each other in revenge plots.”

Cady’s outfit was simple, but cute and the jacket would go perfect with it. You greet her with a smile.

“Nervous?”

“More than I was on the first day,” she frowns.

You grab her by the shoulders and shake her a bit, “You got this and even if it flops, you have me ok. The biggest thing to remember is you have to be yourself alright?”

“Janis and Damian said I shouldn’t be myself around The Plastics,” Cady put her head down.

“Hey, look at me. You don’t need to try to fit in with them. Regina invited you to sit, which means she wants you there. Think about it like that,” you try to ease her nerves.

She nods, giving you a small smile in return, “That makes sense. Oh shit, they’re looking at me. Do you have the jacket?”

You turn to find Regina and her clique looking curiously in Cady’s direction. Quickly you pull the jacket out of your bag. Cady reaches for it, and you pull it back slightly.

“This jacket is important to me, ok? I need it back at the end of the day,” you warn her.

Cady’s attention stays on the popular girls until she sees Regina’s gaze shift towards you. Again, the two of you are in an intense staring contest.

“I’ll give it back to you at the end of the day,” Cady repeats.

You hand her the jacket and go to walk off. Her arm catches your wrist, and you turn around. It’s a bit too fast and the girl almost falls, so you steady her.

“Careful,” you scold her lightly.

Her voice is light as she questions you, “Where’re you going?”

“To my locker?” You say curiously.

“Well, mine is close to yours so I didn’t really expect you to- sorry it’s silly. You go, I’ll see you-”

This time it’s her that goes to pull away. You drop your hand into her’s leading her towards the lockers.

“No, you’re right. Sorry, I’m just kind of used to doing my own thing. It makes complete sense for us to go together.”

“I didn’t mean to make a big deal out of it,” she apologizes.

Your hand lets go of hers as you get in front of your locker, “No big deal, let’s just get through today.”

Lunch comes sooner than you want it to. You try to hide your nerves for Cady’s sake. She approaches Regina’s table with you not too far behind her.

Before she sits down, she clears her throat and looks at Regina, “H-hey it’s cool if not, but I was wondering if my friend Y/n could sit here maybe?”

Gretchen goes on some tangent about it being disrespectful to ask and says that Cady should be disinvited just for even bringing it up, “I mean who do you even think you are?”

“Are you done Gretchen?” Regina replies not even looking at the girl.

“I- I,” she stutters and sits silently in defeat.

Regina eyes look at Cady as if she’s bored, “Is she at least wearing pink?”

You unzip your jacket revealing the pink tank top underneath. Regina looks briefly at shirt before letting out an exasperated sigh, “Only today.”

The answer shocks Gretchen and Karen, but they don’t say it. Cady sits at the edge of the table while you decide to sit next to Karen, in a way that separates you from the main group.

“Cute jacket. Where’d you get it?” Regina says to Cady.

The question alone makes the food on the lunch tray unappealing to you.

Cady answers seamlessly, “It was a gift.”

It’s a good save. If it hadn’t been Regina’s jacket it would have been the perfect lie. The blonde lets it go with a hum before she starts diving into the stereotypical gossip of the school.

It’s hard being this close to her. You had done what you could to stay away from her at school, but here you were sitting across from her trying your best not to stare.

Gretchen goes on explaining the rules of The Plastics to Cady for what felt like forever. You mindlessly scroll through your phone wishing the lunch period would end.

Cady definitely didn’t need you here. You had decided that you were going to leave the table, but before you did, you felt her eyes on you. It was like you were glued to the seat.

“So, we’re going to my house after school to study. Cady are you in or out?” Regina asks, but it’s really a demand.

“Yeah, for sure I’m totally in,” she says excitedly.

“One day offer loser, are you in?” Regina looks at her nails, but it’s clear she’s talking to you.

Gretchen speaks up again, “Regina you can’t be serious? Sitting with us was one thing, but-”

“I’m sorry, was I talking to you Gretchen?” Her voice was ice cold.

Cady looks at you with eyes that were basically saying ‘pretty please’.

“I’m in,” you say against your gut feeling.

Once lunch is over you all disperse. Cady corners you before you go to your next class, “Oh my god that went so well. Regina even asked us to come over.”

You bury your head in your hands, “What have I just agreed to?”

“Hey, this is a good thing, right? If it's not its only one hangout,” Cady’s hand finds your shoulder giving you comfort.

“You’re right, it’s just- Regina’s kind of intimidating up close,” You mumble.

Cady nods, “Very intimidating. Did something happen between the two of you?”

You make a face that creases your eyebrows, “Who? Me and Regina.”

“Yeah, I've seen you staring at each other, and it just feels like tension,” Cady says.

You avoid the truth skillfully, “Well, I've known Regina a long time. I’ve seen what she's capable of. It’s pretty scary. It’s not really staring on my part more like freezing in fear.”

“She can’t be that bad. I think she’s kind of sweet,” Cady admits.

You shake your head, “What did I tell you before Cady? Regina George is mean.”

Cady scoffs, “Everybody keeps saying that, but no one is giving me any examples.”

“Watch her the rest of the day, you'll get it then,” you say knowing that Regina couldn't go too long without letting her mean streak show.

It didn’t take long for Cady to see what you were talking about. Regina treated their peers like they were beneath her at every chance she got.

When your last class was over, you both made your way to Regina’s jeep. Cady is stopped on the way by Janis and Damian. You decide against staying for that conversation. You expect the ginger will catch up to you.

When you get to the car Regina is already there waiting. It is slightly strange seeing her without a boy or her friends. Cautiously you approach her, but not to close. You keep your head down as you stand what you deem as near enough to her car.

“Get in,” she says after an awkward silence.

Your hand barely touches the door to the back before she speaks up again, “The front seat.”

This causes you to look up at her, but she’s already making her way around to the driver’s side. You follow her orders and get in the passenger seat next to her.

You can’t remember the last time you felt this fidgety. Your hand finds a spot firmly on your knee to keep it from bouncing out of control.

“You gave her the jacket,” It’s small when she says it.

It’s a challenge for you, but you make eye contact with her, “She’s just borrowing it. I would never give it away. “

The conversation dies there as Karen, Gretchen, and Cady arrive at the jeep.

“Regina, why is she in my spot?” Gretchen complains about your presence once again.

You start to remove the seatbelt to get in the back, but Regina’s hand grabs your wrist.

“Gretchen, when did you start asking more than 2 stupid questions a day? Nothing in my car belongs to you. If she were in the driver's seat, I would expect you to get in and shut the fuck up. So, get in the back and stop being so annoying.”

You could see Gretchen shrink under Regina’s words. Part of you feels bad for her, she was just acting in the way Regina usually would approve of. You were already making things complicated when they didn’t have to be.

The rest of the girls pile into the back of the jeep and it’s awkward for a moment, but eventually the chatter starts naturally. Once again you feel out of place.

You can’t stop thinking of the feeling of Regina’s hand on your wrist. Her skin on yours provides you with a sense of comfort. It’s almost like you were remembering that you knew what she felt like. You’re craving her touch; the thought alone makes your face burn with embarrassment.

Pulling up to Regina’s house feels surreal. It’s bigger than you thought. It almost felt wrong to go inside. Regina ushers everyone upstairs quickly trying to avoid her mother. You move the quickest, slightly afraid that Mrs. George might recognize you from the summer. Cady takes time to properly greet the woman.

If being in her house felt wrong being in her room felt even more invasive. It’s as pink as you imagined it be, but not in a childish way.

This is when Cady tries to fold you into the conversation, “Y/n, actually really likes pink.”

It’s so sudden having all the girls look to you for conformation. You try to regain your usual attitude, rather than the bundle of nerves you've become today.

“I think it's pretty cool,” You shrug.

Karen’s eyes widen, “You talk?”

You laugh as the other girls roll their eyes, “Yes, Karen I talk.”

“Well, you haven't said anything this whole time so how was I dose to know,” she tilts her head to the side.

She has a good point. From that point you try to engage me with the girls. It isn't so bad. The more you talk with the others the more you begin to relax.

That was until Mrs. George came upstairs with snacks. You excuse yourself to the restroom. It isn't until you’re out of the room that you realize you have no idea where it is.

“Follow me,” Regina appears from seemingly thin air.

You follow her and the two of you end up in front of the bathroom door. You stand there not saying anything to each other.

“Well, are you going to go?”

“I don’t actually have to go, I was just saying that to leave the room in case your mom recognized me,” you explain.

Regina nods, “Right makes sense."

Another long pause.

“I’m sorry, for coming here Gi- Regina. I was just trying to be there for Cady,” you don't look at her as you speak.

“Looking out for your new girlfriend, I get it,” there’s some venom in her tone.

“She’s not- I’m not into Cady.”

Regina falters, “It’s not my business, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

That was her way of apologizing. You don’t know what else to say. Your eyes linger on her, taking in her appearance this close.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she says before heading back in the direction of her room.

You sigh, “You look good, Regina.”

That seems to stop her in her tracks. She turns to face you again, “You can't say stuff like that.”

You take the opportunity to joke, “Do I need to say you look so totally fetch instead or…?”

She rolls her eyes playfully, “You’re annoying you know that.”

It’s completely different than how she said it to Gretchen. For this small instance in the hallway, she sounds like your Gina. It makes your heart flutter but sickens you all at the same time.

Re-entering Regina’s room you see the girls looking at a weird book. You see the shift in Regina’s features instantly, “Why is that out here? “

“Your mom thought it would be funny,” Karen answers, flipping through the pages.

You can't help but read one of the pages aloud, “Ms. Norbury is a PUSHER, a SAD OLD DRUG PUSHER.”

The book is filled with girls from school, it’s surprising you had escaped the pages. It’s then you’re reminded just how effortlessly cruel Regina could be.

Janis's revenge plot was starting to make more sense. You hated to agree, but maybe she needed a fall from grace.

“I have to go,” you say gathering you're things.

Regina moves to block your exit. She looks at the rest of girls like they’re idiots, “Why aren't you guys grabbing your shit? She has to go that means you all have to.”

The girls scramble to pick up their stuff. Regina grabs her car keys from the vanity, signaling that she was doing drop offs.

She takes Gretchen home first, then Karen, next is Cady. You notice Cady doesn't have on your jacket when you get a glimpse of her. Slight panic bubbles inside of you. If she left it at Regina’s, you'd likely never see it again. You get a text as you come to this realization.

Cady: The jackets in your backpack

Y/n: Cool thanks

When Regina parks in front of Cady’s house you say goodbye and tell her to text you later. When she leaves the car, the energy shifts drastically.

You knew Regina did this intentionally as your house was only a block over from hers. It would've made sense to take you first, but she waited to have you alone in this moment.

“Can we talk?” You see her hands tightly grip the steering wheel.

“Well now is as good as it's going to get, isn’t it?” You say picking at the sleeves of your sweater.

Regina sighs, “You were never this timid on the beach.”

“You and I both know you're a different person there. I never thought I’d be in this situation with you here, forgive me if I’m cautious around the queen bee,” you rebuttal.

Her grip tightens, “You’re scared of me.”

You shake your head, “I’m not scared of you, Gina.”

“Then why?”

You look out of the window, “I’m scared of the way you make me feel. I look at you and all of a sudden, I want to be back on that beach. This is as close as we’ve been during the school year, and I can’t make a habit of this. You let me down gently, but that doesn’t mean my heart isn’t broken.”

“I told you,” it’s a whisper from the blonde.

“I would do it all over again,” you still can’t look at her.

Regina feels herself losing her composure. Before she can drive any further, she pulls over in a random parking lot. She shakes her head as tears build behind her eyes.

“You’re not supposed to say shit like that, Y/n. It’s cheesy and overplayed. It’s something you say to people that you care about, and you shouldn't care about me,” she begins to breathe heavily.

“Gina-"

Her hands find her hair as a groan leaves her, “I hurt you Y/n and you just let me. Why don’t you hate me?”

Your hands reach for hers. She lets you pull them from her scalp.

“Regina, I’m not some stranger you met on vacation 2 years ago. I grew up here, with you. I knew what I was getting into. I did it anyway,” your thumb runs over her knuckles.

“You didn't want more?”

Your eyes soften, “I wanted you in every way you’d allow me to have you, Gina. You weren’t just some summer fling to me. It’s just- I knew you'd never go for that. You have this image to uphold, and I fuck it up.”

“You shouldn’t care about my image. You should be calling me a coward and a liar. I don’t get why you haven’t even tried to expose me,” she goes on.

“I don't care about school politics,” you say.

She sounds desperate as she speaks, “But I do, and you could ruin me.”

Against your better judgment your hand caresses her cheek. She looks up at you and you lean forward.

“I gain nothing from hurting you Gina,” your lips graze hers as you speak.

“Fuck it,” Regina closes the gap between the two of you.

Her lips against yours feels better than you remember. Neither of you are eager to pull away. When you do your forehead rests against hers.

“I was so stupid thinking I could stay away from you,” Regina says trying to catch her breath.

“I missed you too,” you tell her.

“We have to figure this out. I’m not ready to… show this side of myself to the school, but I need you,” Regina admits.

You shrug your shoulders, “We could sneak around. No one has to know.”

She searches your face, “Are you sure?”

You nod, “Positive.”

People often make jokes about famous last words, but that honestly felt like yours. Life became a lot more hectic after you suggested that arrangement between you and Regina.

A lot of it was a blur as she began to pull you into the janitors closet whenever she got the chance. Sometimes for talking and sometimes to makeout.

Off campus you would find yourself at the blonde’s house quite often. The two of would hang out in her room for hours. On occasion she would borrow her mom’s car to take your somewhere out of the city.

While things were going great for you with Regina. Cady was slowly but surely making her move on Aaron. You didn't think it was wise, but if it made her happy, then you supported it.

Cady had also kept her seat with Regina and friends. It seemed like she was finally progressing towards actually becoming a member of their clique.

You hadn’t been around much, but you hoped this meant Cady was done with whatever Janis had been planning. Playing both sides wouldn’t be good for her.

“Are you going to Chris Eisel's Halloween party?”  Cady asks as she goes through her locker.

“Probably, everyone is going.”

She nods her head, “I think I'm going to try to get with Aaron at the party.”

Your eyes widen, “I don't know if that's a good idea.”

Cady dismisses your warning, “Regina and I are cool now. I think I'm going to tell her I like him and see if it's ok that I take my chance.”

You look at her as if she was crazy, “Cady getting with the queen bee's ex-boyfriend is not smart.  Telling her about it beforehand only gives her prep time to take you down.”

“It will be fine.”

You knew that it, in fact, would not be fine. Your suspicions were confirmed later in the day when you were in Regina’s room.

The blonde paces back and forth silently. There’s a scowl on her face. You let her try to cool down for nearly 15 minutes, but at this rate there would be a hole in the floor where she walked.

“So, you talked to Cady,” you lightly poke the bear.

“Who does she think she is? I let her into the most influential group at the school and now she wants to fuck my ex. If she gets with Aaron there’s a chance that I look like an idiot,” Regina was furious.

“How would that make you look bad? You dumped him, right?” you try to follow.

“It makes it look like I’d allow anyone to have the things that I have. Dating Aaron would push her up the social ladder. Being one of us and dating him would make her more popular than me,” she says it like it’s obvious.

“Right,” you’re still confused.

Regina groans before finally sitting on her bed next to you, “You wouldn’t get it. You’re not into the school politics or whatever it is you say.”

You wrap your arms around the blonde and she leans back into your touch, “Just try not to destroy her too bad, ok? She’s, my friend.”

“I’m going to put that ginger bitch in her place,” she threatens.

You sigh, but there’s not much else you can do. You warned Cady that this was a bad idea.

“No more talking about Cady. We have episodes of Malcolm in the Middle to watch,” you kiss the top of her head.

“You’re right, I don’t want her cutting into our time together,” she places a kiss to the side of your jaw.

You knew that whatever happened at that party would be bad, but for now you decided to ignore it for now. In hindsight, it was a mistake. It was almost as if all the time you were spending with Regina made you forget that when everything was said and done, she was mean.

The party’s already in full affect when you get there. It’s almost impossible not to spot Cady in her costume.

“I see you went for the scary over sexy look,” you shout so that she can hear you.

“I thought this is what they meant by costume. Not just a pair of mouse ears,” you can barely make out what she’s saying over the giant plastic teeth.

You laugh, “Well I think it’s pretty cool for what it’s worth.”

“Thanks, I hope Aaron thinks so too. Who are supposed to be?”

You pull out your tiny comb and run it through your hair, “Well me sweetheart, I’m grease lightning.”

She giggles at your antics, “I don’t why, but that makes sense for you.”

You chat with Cady enjoying the party atmosphere until you get a glimpse of Regina, “Wow.”

Cady turns her attention to the blonde, “She looks amazing. Is she-”

“An angel,” you finish Cady’s thought.

Cady watches as your eyes rake Regina’s entire form, “I’ve never seen you look like such a fan of hers before.”

It’s a task as you tear your eyes away from Regina, “I’ve said it a million times Cady. She’s mean, but damn she's pretty.”

“I’m going to go say hi, I’ll be right back.”

You don’t stay to watch the interaction between the two girls opting to get a drink from the kitchen instead.

In the kitchen your quest for a drink is postponed as you see Karen standing on the table, looking as if she was going to fall. In typical North Shore fashion, instead of helping her down people are recording her.

You take it upon yourself to walk over and extend your hand to the girl. She takes it gratefully, but still manages to trip on her way down. You’re reflexes work fast to catch her, and steady her on the ground.

“Y/n, you saved me,” she giggles and jumps up and down a few times.

You laugh with your response, “I did, but be careful next time I might not be around.”

“I was trying to find Gretchen,” the girl frowns.

You sigh, trying to figure out if you really want to take on this task. One look at Karen’s wobbly stance, and you take her hand.

“Let’s find her.”

It takes you longer than expected to find Gretchen. When you get a glimpse of her, she’s yelling at Jason over who knows what. You see if you wait it out if it will end, but it doesn’t. So instead, you decide to interrupt anyway.

“Gretchen!” Karen exclaims as you get closer to the girl with the loose curls.

“Karen was looking for you,” you tell her nonchalantly.

Gretchen looks at her clearly drunk friend and then back to the boy she was arguing with. She points her finger at him, “This isn’t over.”

She then takes Karen by the arm and begins to drag her away, “Bye Y/n.”

Gretchen turns back to you for a quick moment mouthing ‘thank you’ before she goes to take care of Karen.

You’re basically back to the middle of the party. You look for Cady and spot her standing still across the room. Her chest heaves up and down rapidly as she clutches her hand over it.

You follow her line of sight and feel your heart break in your chest. Regina and Aaron are locked in an enthusiastic kiss. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but you hold them at bay. You make your way over Cady deciding that the party is over for the both of you.

Your presence takes her out of her trance, “Let’s go.”

She looks over to see Regina looking right at her. Cady doesn’t hesitate to follow your lead out of the party. It’s not until Regina realizes that you’re the one taking Cady, that the blonde regrets her actions.

You don’t know how you end up and Janis’s place, but you do. Janis and Damian are watching some old Halloween movie in her garage. Cady starts telling the art kids what happened at the party. Janis springs up from her seat quickly comforting the girl.

You take this opportunity to sit next to Damian. Its then that you learn that Cady didn’t actually know why Janis wanted revenge. You find out some details you didn’t know either, despite being there for the debacle.

“Now you know that Regina George is not your friend, we’re your friends and we’re going to make her pay,” Janis says with her eye twitching.

“Pause, why are you here Y/n?” Damian acknowledges that you look just as upset as Cady.

You search for an answer, “I brought Cady.”

Janis narrows her eyes at you, “That’s not everything.”

You know you shouldn’t, but as the images of Aaron and Regina cross your mind you can’t hold it in.

Your head falls into your hands, “It’s complicated.”

The moment the two words leave your lips you find yourself telling them everything from the first summer to the recent rendezvous. By the time you're done you’re a mess.

“She told me this would happen, but I didn't listen. I’m so stupid,” you began to get angry at yourself as you harshly wiped your eyes.

“Hey, don't be so hard on yourself,” Janis wraps an arm around.

“And I thought she was cruel before,” Damian looks at you sympathetically.

“She’s not going to get away with this Y/n,” Cady promises.

You shake your head, “Guys, I’m not out for vengeance. I just- it hurts.”

Janis rubs your shoulder a few times, “Don’t worry, we got your back. While Cady focuses on knocking Regina down a peg, Damian and I will make sure she stays away from you.”

Just as the words leave her mouth your phone begins to buzz repeatedly. You peak down at it and can see a bunch of messages from Regina coming through. You reach for it, but Cady takes it and simply flips it over on the table.

“No more, Regina George. “Now, what are we watching,” she says, and you nod gaining back some of your bearings.

So, you spend the rest of your night watching bad horror movies with your friends, trying to keep your mind off of Regina.

The next school day you don’t make it far without feeling a certain pair of eyes on you. Before you can turn to look in her direction Janis and Damian are by your side whisking you into the school building.

“I can’t believe you didn’t like disintegrate under her gaze,” Janis comments.

Damian follows up, “Yeah if looks could kill, you’d probably be dead right now.”

Your gaze stays on the floor, “She can look all she wants as long as she keeps her distance.”

That's basically what transpires your next 6 weeks at school. Janis, Damian, and Cady fail to make any sort of mockery of Regina, the popular girl debuts her rekindled romance, and you fall deeper into your depression.

Regina does try approaching you a few more times, but she consistently gets blocked by Janis, Damian, or Cady, for which you’re grateful. You don’t want to talk to her while she’s busy parading her boy toy around.

Every day is starting to seem longer than the last. You dread stepping on campus, because even if you manage to avoid seeing Regina, she’s all anyone talked about. It was like you were always surrounded by her and it was driving you insane.

It gets to the point where sometimes you periodically skip class, just to walk the empty hallways to get away from her. Skipping class seems to be your downfall as you find yourself being yanked into the janitors closet.

“What the fuck?” Your initial panic only increases when you see Regina blocking the door.

“We need to talk,” Regina says with a sharp tone.

You shake your head, “No we don’t, now let me out of here Regina.”

You try to push past her, but she puts a hand on your chest, “I’ve been trying to talk to you since the Halloween party.”

“For what, Regina? You put Cady in her place just like you said you would. I should've seen it coming,” your words come out harsh.

“I didn’t mean for you to get hurt,” her voice was small when she spoke.

You let out a bitter chuckle, “There was no way I wasn’t going to get hurt. What, you were just going to kiss and date Aaron publicly while keeping me on the side?”

“I don’t care about Aaron, I only care about you,” she shoots back.

“You couldn’t even run it by me. Maybe check to see if I would’ve been ok with it? Regina we were practically dating,” you argue to the girl.

Regina runs a hand through her hair, “I know that. I know I fucked up, I’ve been trying to apologize, to talk to you, but your guard dogs never let me get close.

You scoff, “My friends are protecting me from you.”

Regina sounds incredulous, “So you told them?”

Your hands go up feigning exasperation, “Yes, I told them. I didn’t really have a choice because when I left the party, I was a fucking mess, and they were there for me.”

“It was just a kiss, Jesus Christ you’re acting like I fucked him on the couch,” she complains.

The disbelief in your tone comes out, “You really don’t get it, do you? You want to know why it fucked me up so bad? Despite how mean you are and how vain you can be, I saw something in you. I cut through all the bullshit to find the actual human being with feelings. I got to know you better than anyone else in this hell hole ever will. Underneath all that toxic plastic costume that you wear is the girl that I loved. So, I’m sorry if my hurt feelings are too much for you, but it fucking sucks seeing the person you love kiss someone else.”

You didn't know when you got so close to Regina. The roles had reversed at some point, and you were now the one trapping her against the closet door. Her blue eyes peer into yours looking for any sign of deceit.

“You loved me?”

You close your eyes, “Don’t make me say it again. “

Regina doesn't have the words. She doesn't want to search for them. All she wants to do is kiss you. So, against her better judgment she hurriedly places her lips on yours.

You should push her away, tell her that this isn't an apology. Yet the only thing you can do is wrap your arms around her and pull her into you. The kiss is sloppy, and it sends you both into a frenzy. Neither of you break it even when you both know better.

When the door to the closet is violently yanked open, is when you finally pull away from each other. Aaron stands there looking between yourself and Regina. The blonde yanks the door back shut, and you drop to the floor as embarrassment sets in.

“Fuck, I have to go,” you say trying to pull yourself together.

“You can’t go we haven’t talked,” Regina tries to block you.

This time you’re gentle as you move her aside, “There’s nothing to talk about Gina. You were right, I thought I could handle the heartbreak, but this is too much.”

Leaving the closet your jaw clenches as you see Cady down the hall. Her attention that was on Aaron, shifts to you. Her eyes go wide as she begins to figure out what happened in the closet. You don't give her the chance to comfort you opting to leave the school entirely.

Maybe it was time to embrace the school’s politics. Becoming the outcast, loner, weirdo didn’t sound so bad anymore. Anything to keep you away from The Plastics and The Art Freaks. You didn’t want to deal with either side ever again.

Just like you had done with Regina you ignored all of Cady, Janis, and Damian’s messages. You and the block button had never been any closer. At school you resumed having your lunch outside away from the drama and stuffy cafeteria.

In class you kept your focus on the teacher ignoring any notes or whispers from the trio. It was a challenge, but it was for the best.

You kept your head down when walked the halls and your earbuds in. If you kicked out the outside world then it was like it didn’t exist. You should’ve been paying more attention.

That’s the thought that crosses your mind as you trip right in front of Regina George. You expect to hit the floor dramatically but are surprised when you feel her hands at your waist keeping you upright.

The entire school watches with bated breath waiting for your fate. You too, are curious to see how the queen bee will treat you with the public watching.

“Watch it… loser,” she mumbles, making sure to shove you lightly out of her way.

You can tell her heart isn’t in it, but it looks normal to the public. In some ways it looked like you got a warning, which Regina was kind enough to give to most people.

You didn't dwell on it much. She probably had bigger things to worry about with the talent show happening so soon. The Plastics never missed a year of doing their kind of provocative and surely cringe-inducing dance routine.

Extra credit was being offered in most of your classes for students who went. So, you had decided to go to boost up your grades.

On the night of the talent show, you take a seat in the back row. Most of it is uninspiring. You hate to admit that you really enjoyed Damian’s rendition of the Icarly theme song. It was weird, but in that sort of niche artistic way that made it cool to you.

When The Plastics get on stage you’re surprised to see Cady with them. It was unsurprising to see everyone recording the performance. You’re sure some weirdos would be glad to have that performance at their disposal.

 It is more difficult to watch this year than the previous. Something is more off key than usual. When the cartwheel spot is being set up you see Karen’s knee buckle first then Regina slams into the floor.

When she does, the crowd erupts. You shoot out of your seat as well. This is her worst nightmare. In a digital era, there’s no way that this isn’t going to go viral.

You don’t know why you’re running out of the theater, but you are. You didn’t know where to look for her, but she had to come to her car. You stand outside the pink jeep for what feels like an eternity.

In reality, it was only a few minutes before you could make out the figure of the crying blonde. You wait for her to get closer before attempting to say anything.

“Regina-”

She tries snapping at you, but it doesn’t pack much of a punch behind the tears, “It’s pretty funny, isn’t it? I bet you enjoyed every second of it.”

“Give me your keys,” you say without pause.

“What?”

“It’s dangerous to drive under intense emotion. Give me your keys, so I can take you home,” you reiterate.

Regina wants to question it, but she doesn’t want to ruin tonight even more. She put her keys in your hands. You don’t say anything else, simply waiting for her to get in the car.

When she does, you begin driving to her house. You can see her scrolling through her phone, so you snatch it from her at a red light.

“Stop,” you tell her, knowing she’s looking at her viral moment.

When you get to her house you follow her to her room. She faceplants on her bed and you watch as her body begins to vigorously shake with sobs.

You sit next to her your hand rubs her back soothingly, “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“You’re not happy that your bestie usurped me,” she says sarcastically.

“I haven’t spoken to Cady, since the closet thing happened,” you admit to her.

She wiped her eyes, “Why not?”

“Well Cady’s the one who told Aaron to check the closet,” you tell her.

“That bitch.”

You nod, “Yeah, I know that she and Janis wanted revenge, but that was low.”

Regina’s eyebrow furrows, “What are you talking about?”

You fill her in on everything and you can see her get angrier at every word.

“You didn’t think to warn me?”

You fight back, “Last time I checked they were failing. I wasn’t in on the planning, and I don’t even know all that they did. But also, I don’t owe you anything Regina.”

Her tongue clicks against her cheek, “I guess that’s fair.”

You speak again, “I don’t really know why I’m here if I’m being honest with you. I saw you hit the floor, and I just felt like I needed to be here for you.”

Regina laughs softly, “Even after all of this, you’re still thinking about how I feel.”

You laugh too, “I don’t think I can help it. I mean you are the Regina George, massive deal and all that.”

She shakes her head, “Not after this. I will never be her again.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

She looks at you, “I mean it doesn’t feel great, to be embarrassed for the whole world to see.”

“Fair point, but what is it they say about the head that wears the crown. Aren’t you a little bit relieved that you don’t have to be perfect anymore?”

She shrugs, “I guess so. My heart hasn’t been inn it since the last time we talked.”

“Regina, I don’t know if now is the time to-"

Her eyes lock on yours, “Please.”

Reluctantly you nod your head.

“I’m not a caring person. I don't usually give a fuck about anything but myself. I’m selfish and ruthless and cruel and mean. I really am everything that these people are saying about me. Except when it comes to you. I care about you more than I’ve cared about anything in a long time.”

She looks at you to make sure you're really hearing her.

“Kissing Aaron was so fucking stupid. I felt threatened by Cady and in truth I acted how I usually would. But I forgot to consider your feelings because I’m not used to considering others. I knew I fucked up and I wanted to fix it, but you were avoiding me. So, I kept the act because if I lost you at least I still had my power.”

“So, you care about your power more than me?”

Regina frowns, “No, I don’t, that’s what I’m trying to say. In that closet when you told me you loved me, it was like everything just clicked into place. We got carried away and then you left, but if you would’ve stayed just a second longer, I could’ve told you I loved you too.”

“Regina-”

“I’m almost done I promise. I could’ve told you any time after the fact, but it felt selfish. I was trying to do the right thing for once. You said that I hurt you too much and you were right. So, I thought it didn’t matter. I still don’t know if it matters, but if this is the last chance I have to say it, Y/n I love you.”

Your heart could come out of your chest at Regina’s admission. You’d love nothing more than to just pull her in and kiss, but something was stopping you.

“I love you too Gina, but what does that mean for us?”

Regina takes your hand in hers, “I want to be with you. Not just on the beach, but here, everywhere.”

You can sense there’s something she wanted to say, “But…”

“But I want to deal with the situation at school first. I want to change, but I still have to be mean for a while. I don't know if you’ll like that side of me,” Regina looks at her bedsheets.

You let a tiny smile come over your features, “I’m not really into school politics. So, I don't mind if you’re still a little mean. As long as you don't care that I want to be by your side.”

Regina has a smile that matches yours, “I like the thought of you by my side.”

“Good, because I don't plan on leaving.”

You can't wait any longer. You take her face in both of your hands and kiss her softly. Regina melts against your lips. It’s not like the kiss in janitors, it’s closer to your first kiss together. There’s a slight hesitation, but it’s not enough to stop.

“I love you,” she says against your lips.

“I love you too.”

You stayed at Regina’s pretty late that night. It was so late that by the time you got home you were exhausted. When your alarm went off in the morning, you snored right through it. You ended up making it to your third period right before the bell rang to start class.

You took your seat next to Cady. Something about her was different. She looks like Regina, more than usual. She wasn't paying any attention during class, to preoccupied with her makeup.

“What’s up with her?” You say to Janis, who sits directly behind you.

“Oh, well hello to you too stranger.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m serious, Janis.”

The artist shrugs, “I don't know. After last night I called game on the revenge, but Cady said she needed one more day.”

You frown, “Is worldwide embarrassment not enough? She’s viral all over the internet for her fall.”

“I thought so, but this is all Cady,” there’s some hint of worry in her tone.

You want to talk to the ginger, but the moment the bell rings she's out of the class. Once you’re out of class you head to the cafeteria for lunch. As you’re standing in line waiting for the food the loud chatter of the cafeteria drops.

You lift your head up to see why; it’s Regina. She’s not in her usual attire opting for something more comfortable, but just as cute in your opinion. She walked over to her usual table but was stopped from sitting.

You couldn't hear the conversation, but you did hear as Regina’s friend yelled, “You can’t sit with us.”

Nobody in the cafeteria moves to make space for the girl. Her mean nature finally biting her in the ass. You set your lunch tray down loudly, causing the attention to shift to you.

You hate the way everyone looks on, as you make your way towards Regina. Standing by her side in front of the entire school felt strange.

You hold your hand out for her to take and she does. You glare hits all the girls’ sitting at The Plastics table before lingering on Cady, “Let’s go outside, it’s stuffy in here anyway.”

Regina let you drag her out of the cafeteria towards the front of the school. You found a shady spot under the tree and sat there.

“You want me to sit on the ground?”

You look at her and then pat your lap, “You could always sit here instead.”

She takes a seat on the grass next to you, “I wouldn’t want to crush you. I’m so fat now.”

You frown and pull the girl into your lap. She squeals and tries to get away, but you lock your arms around her.

“Doesn’t feel like you’re crushing me.”

Regina looks away from you, “I’m wearing these sweats because I can’t fit any of my pants anymore. It doesn't make any sense because all I've been eating are these nasty bars that Cady gave me.”

You take the bar from Regina. The more you examine it the angrier you get.

“Don’t eat anymore of this shit.”

“What’s wrong with them?”

You feel your body growing hot with anger, “These are Kalteen bars. They’re for gaining weight.”

Regina’s facial expression darkens, “What?”

“I’m going to kill her. This is too far,” you start to stand, but Regina stops you.

“I will handle it,” Regina’s calm tone is unnerving, but Cady deserves whatever hell Regina invokes on her for this.

“Ok, but I’m here if you need me,” you squeeze her lightly.

“Thank you, baby. Not just for being here, but for what you did in the cafeteria. I know you don’t like the attention,” she places a kiss on your cheek.

You blush at her praise, “I don’t like it, but I wasn’t going to stand idly by why Cady tried to humiliate you in front of everyone again.”

“I don’t want to talk about her anymore. Karma will get her soon enough and her world will be burnt to a crisp,” Regina’s smile is small yet sadistic.

Maybe a few hours ago you would’ve warned Regina about taking it too far. Potentially you would have said something about the moral high ground. However, upon learning about the weight gaining bars, you decided that Cady needed to be humbled quickly.

You and Regina decide to ditch the rest of the school day. You spend the day at her house watching tv in her bed. It only takes a few episodes before you fall asleep, still feeling some grogginess from your morning.

After a few minutes of your soft snores, Regina begins her plot. She knew this would not only destroy Cady, but the entire population of girls at the school. They deserved it after the talent show and lunch today. If they thought she was a problem when she was mean, nothing could prepare them for when she felt vindictive.

“What’re you doing so far away,” you yawn and make grabby hands at the blonde.

“This is called full proof revenge,” she holds up the burn book.

Your eyes widen as you read ‘this girl is a fugly cow’, “Oh shit.”

“Come here.”

You follow her orders. She opens the book to a page that has your name and your picture, but no description, “Where’d you get this picture of me?”

Regina shakes her head, “Not important. You need to write something mean about yourself here.”

You give her a questioning look, “Why?”

“Because it’ll look suspicious if you aren’t in it,” she hands you a marker.

You don't think about it too much as you write ‘Gay Loner Weirdo’ above the picture.

“Simple, elegant, classy,” you hand the marker back to her.

“Timeless if you will,” Regina jokes.

You nod feigning insight, “Yes, it was either that or Regina George sympathizer, but that felt too new. Gotta make them think I was always in there.”

The two of spent the rest of the day enjoying each other’s company. It was a nice change for once. You found yourself thinking that you could get used to having Regina to yourself like this.

You expect chaos the next time you step onto campus, but you aren’t prepared for what you walk in to. The halls were a mess. Girls are fighting, running, and screaming everywhere you look.

“This is insane,” you whisper to yourself.

“This is what happens when you fuck with Regina George,” the girl appears by your side faux distraught on her features.

You don’t get to answer her before principal Duvall calls for all the girls in the gymnasium. A situation like this was unprecedented in the history of the school. So, it didn't surprise you that none of the faculty knew what to do about it.

They were trying some weird truth and unity trust fall that you thought was a shitty idea. Things were cringy at first, but it seemed like the message was working on a few girls.

When Janis gets up there things take a turn for the worst as she begins to air out Regina and Cady’s dirty laundry, “… and I find it so ironic because while Regina’s been calling me a pyro lez she's been busy having summer beach romances with Y/n. Pretty fucking gay if you ask me.”

She lets out a scream before falling into the arms of the student body who began changing her name and carrying her out.

The only students left in the gym were yourself, Cady, and Regina. Cady’s remorse finally manages to kick in and she starts to apologize. She doesn't get too far in before Regina storms off. You stay hot on her heels as Cady follows the two of you. Regina makes it all the way to the front lot before she turns around to start arguing with Cady.

The closer Cady gets to the blonde, the further Regina goes into the street. You’re somewhere in between trying to mediate the situation.

“Why don't we do this somewhere private for once? Where the while school isn’t involved,” you suggest.

“I don't have anything to say to her except that she's parading around as a cheaper version of me. She can imitate take it all, but she’ll never be as good as me,” Regina spits out.

“Regina, I’m-"

You look between the girl’s and that's when you see the bus coming from the corner of your eye.

“Regina!”

You scream her name, and your body moves on its own as you forcefully tackle the girl to the ground. You make sure to protect her head with your arms as you go down on the concrete. Everything feels like it’s slowed down as your arms connect with the concrete.

That feeling is nothing compared to the pain you feel in your leg. You cry out in pain at the feeling of your leg being run over by the bus.

“Oh my god, Y/n. Someone help, quit standing around like idiots. Call an ambulance or something, make yourselves useful,” Regina yells as the entire school looks on.

She repositions herself so that your head is in her lap as she holds your sobbing figure. She can’t help it as her own tears begin to fall.

When the ambulance comes, you’re loaded in and rushed to the hospital. As much as Regina fought to get into the ambulance, they wouldn't let her. She knew you were going to need surgery on your leg, it had to be completely broken. All she could do was worry and count down the moments until she would be able to see you.

It took a full day for you to wake up after the accident and another before you were allowed visitors. Regina was the first person there.

The first thing she did was kiss you, “Don’t ever do anything stupid like that again.”

You laugh tiredly, “I believe the words are thank you.”

“It’s not funny Y/n, you could’ve died.”

You readjust the bed to sit up straight, “I wasn’t going to let you get full on hit by a bus Gina. My leg will be fine after rehab. The doctor says I'm lucky that it broke clean, but I might have some permanent nerve damage.”

“But you'll still be able to walk?”

You nod, “It’ll take a few months, and I might have like a permanent limp, but I’ll be able to walk."

“You saved my life,” her hand interlocks with yours.

“I mean we don't know that. You could've survived being hit by the bus,” you joke further.

“Oh yeah, totally would've survived. Probably would be walking around with the hottest neck brace on the market,” she rolls her eyes.

“Super fetch neck brace,” you add.

She groans, “I love you, but you have to stop saying that.”

“I love you too, but I’m going to keep saying it,” you kiss the back of her hand.

Regina isn't the only one who stops to visit you. You’re a little surprised to see Cady stop by. The popular persona was nowhere to be seen. She looks the same as the first day you met her.

“I know you probably don't want to see me, but I came to apologize… for everything. I did exactly what you warned me not to and got caught up in the school politics,” she stands by the forest while she talks.

You motion for her to have a seat, and she does so cautiously. You let out a breath before addressing the girl, “I did warn you, but sometimes you have to make mistakes to learn and grow. When you sent Aaron to the closet, I was so upset with you. Maybe I could’ve forgiven you then, but your attitude just went downhill from there.”

“I know.”

“I’m not even mad about it anymore. I’m more upset about what you did to Regina. Some of that shit was pretty low, Cady,” you tell her.

“I know, I got caught up in Janis’s plan. I was so excited to have friends that I thought going along with it was ok, but it wasn't. What makes it even worse is that I got carried away and became someone I’m not. And now you're here in the hospital because of me,” she can’t look at you.

“Cady you weren't driving the bus.”

She stands her ground, “It’s the domino effect of my actions. No one would’ve been-"

You cut her off, “Cady this isn't your fault. You sound crazy. I literally kind of threw myself in the path of the bus. It was my choice, and I stand by it. Instead of taking accountability for things that aren’t your fault, maybe you should focus on the things that are your fault.”

“Like with Regina,” she says to herself.

“Regina, Janis, hell even Ms. Norbury. Apologize and mean it, that’s a step in the right direction,” you tell her.

“How do you always manage to have the right advice?”

“We're all just actual human beings at the end of the day Cady. Falling into these boxes that we think are desirable takes us out of the reality of the situation.”

She takes in your words and then stands, “I’m going to go work on being an actual human being. Maybe when it's all over, we can be friends again.”

You salute her playfully, “Go get em tiger.”

Despite your injury, time seems to go by in a blur. Rehab is hard and the handful of meds you have to take is annoying, but it’s worth it. You were doubtful about returning to campus before the end of the year, but you found yourself cleared a week before Spring Fling. You’d have to use a crutch, but for the most part you were alright.

“You know we don’t have to go to the dance, right? I’m content staying here and finally finishing Malcolm in the Middle,” Regina says as fixes the sleeves of your suit.

“I know, but I have to let my adoring public know that I’ve escaped the clutches of death.”

Regina stops her movements, “I’m being serious, Y/n."

You place a hand on her waist, “I want to go out and dance with you. Or at least attempt to.”

Regina blushes under your touch, “Might be a little difficult with the crutch.”

“It can sit on the bleachers for one dance,” your eyes are love-struck, staring at Regina.

Her face heats even more under your gaze, “Let’s go your adoring public awaits or whatever.”

For the second time in your school career all eyes seem to be on you as you enter the dance. It could be the fact that you looked good, or maybe that you were walking in with Regina George on your arm, or more likely that no one had seen you since the bus ran over your leg.

“Do people ever do anything besides staring,” you say to the blonde.

“Nope,” she pops the ‘p’ on the word.

You don't get particularly far into the dance floor on account of your crutch. Instead, you find yourself situated by the punchbowl. You urge Regina to go dance, which she does reluctantly.

“You know rumors were going around that you’d lost your leg,” Janis appears by your side.

You look down at your leg, “Still there.”

“Look I wanted to say I’m sorry for how everything played out. It wasn’t cool to try to involve you in the drama and I shouldn’t have said anything about your thing with Regina,” she apologizes.

“Apology accepted, I’m just ready to move on from everything,” you say earnestly.

“Janis,” Regina says cordially, as she puts herself in this conversation.

“Regina,” the girl answers in the same tone.

With a respectful nod the girl in the purple tux takes her leave.

“What was that about?”

“Well, I' told you that I wanted to change. The first part of that is making amends. Janis and I had a talk, we both apologized. So now, we’re civil with each other,” Regina reveals.

“That’s awesome baby, I’m proud of you.”

She looks away from you as embarrassment coats her face, “Yeah whatever, don’t you owe me a dance?”

You laugh and lean your crutch against the wall before offering her your hand. Your leg is strong enough for the two of you to sway together as a slow song plays.

“People are still watching, I think it’s the Regina George factor,” you say so only that she can hear.

“I don’t really mind it. It lets them know you’re mine.”

A goofy smile plants itself on your face, “Oh, am I?”

Regina nods, “All mine.”

You lean in closer to her, “Weird way to ask if I'll be your girlfriend, but I accept.”

Regina begins to sputter which keeps you smiling. The smug look on your face drives her crazy. She’s quick to place a soft kiss on your lips to regain some control of the situation.

“That’s so not fair,” you say against her lips.

“It’s girlfriend privileges,” she counters back.

When the song is over principal Duvall calls for the nominees for Spring Fling king and queen to go up on stage. You stand to the side and cheer loudly as your girlfriend gets on the stage. Tension slowly builds as the man reads of the kings name first before holding the envelope with the queen’s name in it.

Silence takes over the crowd as principal Duvall announces Cady as the queen of Spring Fling. When the girl gets on the stage, you notice she’s not dressed for the dance at all. The casual attire with a letterman jacket seems like a change of pace for her.

She takes the microphone and starts to apologize publicly to everyone she has wronged. She breaks the crown into pieces sharing it with the girls on stage. She also throws some pieces into the crowd before getting off the stage.

The ginger makes her way over to you and hands you a piece of the plastic crown, “Glad you could make it.”

You smile at her, “That was probably the corniest shit I have ever seen, but you seemed like an actual human being on that stage.”

“Learned from the best. I’m going to go talk to Janis, but I’ll see you around?”

“Definitely,” you reassure her and watch as she goes off to continue righting her wrongs.

Regina comes not too long after Cady goes. She leans her back against you lightly and you wrap an arm around her.

“I'm ready for summer,” she mentions offhandedly.

“Why?”

She tilts her back to look up at you, “I'm ready to sit on the beach and relax with my extremely hot girlfriend.”

Her eyes sparkle as they peer into yours. This moment feels like it could last forever. You get to be with the Regina George in a room where anyone can see. Yet you resonate with her words deeply. Nothing sounds quite as good as having the girl all to yourself, soaking up the sun. You can almost see the book in your hand while the blonde rests her head in your lap.

“Me too.”

[cevansbrat0007]

Sweet Tooth

Summary: Ari gets inventive when he finds himself in the doghouse with you. Be sure to check out the follow-up drabble, Sweet Tooth Deluxe!

Warnings: Smut, Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Arch Nemesis', Dominant Ari, Aprons, Arguments, Oral Sex (fem rec mentioned), Spanking (mentioned), Pussy spanking (mentioned), Pet Names, Cursing, Violent Thoughts, Minors DNI

A/N: Written for @honeygngergemini. Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari leans back in his chair, one long leg coming to rest atop his knee as he levels a hard look at Officer Milton Foster. He scrubs a tired hand over his face, his mind working overtime to process what the young man had just said.

“But that makes zero fucking sense.” He grumbles, groaning when he sees Milton just shake his head.

“Aye, man.” The dark-haired deputy  throws up his hands. “You asked me where I thought you went wrong and I told you.” He turns in his office chair to spare a quick glance at his computer. “Do not shoot the messenger.”

“No one’s being shot, alright? I just don’t get the logic behind any of the shit you just said.”

Couple that with the fact that you’d been icing him out for the past several days for reasons unbeknownst to him – which had left him in a god awful mood. He missed you. Your laugh, your warmth, your smile. 

All of it.

Not to mention that deliciously curvy body that had been keeping him warm at night. He really missed that. More than than anything he needed a fucking kiss.

But you were ignoring him. And Ari had discovered pretty quickly that he didn’t like any of it. Not one bit.

So, he’d turned to what he felt like was his only ally in this god-forsaken town: the newly minted sheriff’s deputy, Milton Foster.

“So you’re really trying to tell me that the reason my woman is pissed at me is because I ate Charline Marshall’s pecan pie at the town potluck, liked it, and asked for seconds.” Ari smooths an annoyed hand over his bearded face. Trying to understand Bell’s Creek’s local politics could really do a number on a person. 

“And don’t forget that she purposely dropped your lady’s bramble berry pie on the ground.” Milton does a quick spin in his chair. “She tried to pretend it was an accident, but most of us know better. Charline Marshall has eyes for you and I think she might be ready to make it known.”

“I’m pretty sure that I couldn’t even pick that woman out of a lineup.”  

Milton simply shrugs before taking another spin in his desk chair. “You’ve got a lot of admirers, Mr. Bounty Hunter. A man like you blows into town…well, you’re downright exotic. Every single red-blooded woman under 75 wants a taste.”

Ari visibly shudders before crossing his legs at the ankle. He didn’t want anyone else. This particularly surly Bounty Hunter wanted you. He only wanted to eat your food. Enjoy your sweets. Fall to his knees and devour the fuck out of your pretty little pussy.

“Hard pass, buddy.” Your lawman sighs. “I didn’t know shit about the pie incident. I mean, how could I when she was barely talking to me or anyone at that party?”

“Not saying it’s your fault, big guy. Logically, what would you have been able to do if she had told you?”

Ari looks up at him, his piercing blue gaze never once leaving the young deputy’s. “I would’ve taken her back to my place and spent the rest of the night making her feel better. I would’ve done everything in my power to take my girl’s mind off that petty shit.”

“Mmm.” Milton murmurs as understanding suddenly dawns. “I really don’t wanna get too deep in your business, but your lady is like a sister to me.” He leans back in his chair so that he can kick his feet up on his desk. “We used to play on the playground together as kids. And full disclosure, she used to beat my ass.” The deputy chuckles as he begins to recount all the way you used to be a tiny force of nature. 

“I…can see that.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Anyway, I think your original plan was a good one.” 

“Meaning?” Ari leans over to take a sip of his now cold coffee. It tasted like shit anyway, even when it was hot. In fact he longed for you, his BIrd, to make him one of your little caffeine-infused concoctions – preferably while wearing nothing but his shirt. 

So he could also take a bite out of that luscious ass while you refreshed his mug. After all, he was a man who prided himself on his ability to multitask. 

“Meaning, you need to find a way to distract her while making your point.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, you’re a smart fuckin’ guy who set his sights on someone who could easily be the most stubborn woman in the whole damned state.” A smirking Milton offers up a salute with his can of Dr. Pepper. “That’s for you to figure out. All I can do at this point is wish you luck.” 

“Thanks.” Ari grunts, wishing that he had a better idea of what to do with you.

Oh, rest assured that he’d figure it out. You were too important to him not to. He just hoped you’d find it in your heart to take it easy on him for his mistake. 

The Next Day

You wake up to the smell of cooking sausage wafting into your room. It makes you smile as you stretch your arms over your head. Your stomach growls in agreement, subtly reminding you that you’d neglected to make dinner last night. 

Oops. You hadn’t meant to forget, it had just happened. Normally you would end your night with speaking to your Beast of a Bounty Hunter, who always made sure you ate. But lately, you have been both mad at him and embarrassed.   

Because at a recent town potluck, Ari had eaten your rival’s pecan pie. Now, you weren’t children, but this had also been after she’d purposely sabotaged your own dessert by accidentally dropping it on the ground. 

Charline pretended that it had been a mistake. But the way you’d witnessed her laugh after the fact. And then she’d fed your man, reveling in every minute. You’d known her pecan pie was dry, but Ari had seemed to enjoy it. So much so that he’d asked for a second piece. 

Which was fine, except it had hurt your feelings. And you hadn’t been sure how to relay exactly relay that fact either. So you’d clamped down. You’d bottled up. 

And as a result, your poor, sweet man was suffering. Which meant you needed to apologize. But you weren’t quite sure how to go about it. As you sit up, you vow to yourself to give him a call today. As soon as you sat down and enjoyed your breakfast.

And then it occurs to you. You weren’t the one cooking. Which meant someone was in your house. 

You spring out of bed and grab your Louisville Slugger that you always kept nearby. Taking a deep breath, you quietly make your way down the stairs, your trusty bat poised to take a swing at whatever moron who’d chosen to take up residence in your kitchen.

Baring your teeth, you crest around the corner on bare feet, ready to make your presence known. 

“You gonna hit me, Bird?” Ari muses as he adds a dash of salt, followed by pepper to whatever it is he’s got cooking in the skillet. Your flippin' skillet. “Is that really how this ends? You take me out while I’m being kind enough to whip us up some breakfast?”

Momentarily flummoxed you find yourself lowering your weapon in favor of taking in the scene before you. This man – your Bounty Hunter – was currently standing in your kitchen clad in nothing but an apron. 

Your apron. And yet somehow it fit him better

“Wh–what are you doing?” You ask him, letting your baseball bat clatter to the floor at your feet. You wouldn’t need it. You were safe with this man, but only to a point. “And how’d you get in?” You hadn’t given him a key yet. 

That was supposed to be a present for later. 

“Eh.” Ari shrugs, flipping a pancake with surprising skill. “Maybe I saw my gift and swiped it after the potluck. Maybe you weren’t listening to me and I couldn’t get a read on you, so I had to be an asshole and make an executive decision.” He turns away from you to drop a finished pancake on a plate, giving you a fantastic view of his perfectly muscled ass.

“You mad?” 

“N-no.” You respond as you feel your thighs clench. God, how you wished that you’d come down here wearing pants. “I was actually planning to reach out to you today. Can I ask what you’re doing?” You shiver as you feel your thighs grow damp, your traitorous pussy working against you. 

You should be mad that your Beast had broken into your house. Instead you were happy to see him with a much deserved apology ready to fall from your lips. 

“Making you breakfast. Chocolate chip pancakes, eggs, and sausage.” He adds another delicious pancake to the stack. “I’m gonna feed you, and then I’m gonna fuck you, and make you rethink ever ignoring me again.” He purrs, the intoxicating rumble coming from somewhere deep in his chest. 

Fuck you were so wet it was almost embarrasing. 

“I’ve earned the rights to that tight little pussy, baby. And when I make a mistake like I did with that goddamned Charline, I want you to tell me.” Ari turns off the range, pulling the food off the heat and onto a plate.

“I’m sorry.” You murmur, both hating and loving the way your nipples pebble beneath the thin fabric of your oversized t-shirts. Actually, it was one of his. A detail he also seemed to notice. “How can I make it up to you?”

Ari studies you for a moment, his handsome face tilting to the side. And then your eyes stray to the sight of his impressive erection. You watch as one of his big hands reaches down to fist his hard cock, pumping it once. Twice. 

“You can start by going back upstairs. I want you naked, on all fours. I want to come up there and feast my eyes on your soaking wet cunt.” His heated gaze bores into your own, making your already drenched core spasm one more. “And you’d better be wet for me, otherwise I’m gonna spank it. And you.” 

“O-okay.” You find yourself taking a step back, your hand clutching at the wall. 

“I’m gonna eat it baby.” Ari growls, his voice filled with a mix of unbridled lust and determination. “I’m gonna make that pussy fucking cry. And you’re gonna fucking take it. You hear me?”

“Yes.” You whisper, resisting the urge to reach down as you stroke your eager fingers over your throbbing clit. “Yes, Sir.”

He takes a menacing step towards you, his body delighting in the way that you shiver. You’d been bad. Which means it was time to pay the price. And what better man to exact that payment than your own handsome, 6”4 Beast? 

“And then I’m gonna fuck you in front of that brand new mirror I bought you. I’m gonna show you who owns that beautiful body and remind you why it’s important to talk to me when you need me.” Another menacing step. “And then I’m gonna feed those delectable curves after I’ve had my fill.”

“And then…” He tilts his head from side to side, cracking his neck. “You’re gonna let me kiss it all better while I make love to you.”

“Y-yes, please.” Right now you were willing to give this man whatever he wanted. Whatever helped you atone for your supposed sins.

“There’s a good girl.” He intones as he unties the apron, leaving him naked and aroused in your simple kitchen. “Now run.”

END

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[sergeant-angels-trashcan]

YOU HAVE SUMMONED ME honestly I was worried that this was super late but then I saw the time stamp on your post and I was like 😀 tis still shenanigan time!! HALEY!!! aka BITEWING!!!! sweet angel baby puppy love of my life. she’s adorable. she only has three legs! when dick rescued her from getting abused by some random jerks in the street she BIT HIM hard enough that he needed STITCHES. and he said “oh i’m gonna take her to the pound tomorrow” and babs and tim were like 👀 uh huh, sure you are dick… and next thing you know we see he’s got toys for her and a bed and a bowl with her name on it. her name was voted on by readers and is a nod to haly's circus! (which writers occasionally forget that dick owns now, but that’s a whole other tangent) she is a tiny menace and I love her! just in canon we’ve seen her try to play with/tear up important papers, she ate dick’s tv remote and tore up his couch, and she has daydreams about fighting crime as bitewing 🩵 she very much strikes me as an ankle biting menace while she’s still a puppy, and I feel like lucky would literally have to scruff her to pull her away from a fight… which honestly also feels right for kate and dick in some cases 😂

This is amazing I am sobbing I am weeping Kate and Dick with their disabled doggos

(Also Dick and Clint lowkey soulmate vibes???)

I was imagining Kate losing Lucky at a dog park (full disclosure I have no idea how dog parks work, maybe just a regular park?) and she's getting pizza to lure Lucky (and potentially also Jeff???) back to her, she's not super worried, she's chatting to Cute Tall Guy who is ALSO missing his dog. He's not getting pizza for doggo, just for him. Anyway SUDDENLY A RUCKUS and Kate and Tall Guy hear Barking! And individually they are thinking, well, my dog might have just started a gang war

again

This is fine

It turns out puppo Haley has found a stray cat mama with a new litter of kittens and has planted herself between the cat and some other dogs who are clearly VERY poorly behaved, but she is a hero and that's! what! heroes! do! However Haley is a pup and also missing a leg she could use some backup basically, and Lucky, who has never met a disaster he doesn't love, decides to ALSO plant himself between the mean dogs (who are lowkey trying to bully Haley) and Haley and the cats. Jeff might be there but mostly for the Drama bc he's a messy bench like that

Anyway Dick and Kate proceed to RIP INTO the other dog owners and then look at each other askance like wtf are we supposed to do with the cat?!?!?! Who has decided Haley is just a big dumb kitten she lost and has adopted her (very bruce-coded of the cat tbh). And kittens?!?! One of them is orange and has something going on with an eye and Kate is like oh NO this kitten is a cat Lucky I can't believe I have at least one cat now

(clint: you know you don't have t--

Kate: who am I to argue with the cat distribution system)

Dick is frantically calling up his favorite animal expert (it's Damian) about how to safely move mama and kittens? And where? Vet??!?!? Animal shelter?!?!?! Tim?!?!

To be fair Dick could have probably figured it out if he was alone but Kate is there and his brain makes dialup noises when he looks at her for too long yes he's WEAK leave him alone

At some point Kate winds up sitting on the ground and Haley flops into her lap and passes out because it's been a big day for a puppy and Lucky and Jeff give Kate the BIGGEST SADDEST BABY EYES because that's their spot?? Why is this interloper hogging the Pizza Girl? Lucky turns Sad Dog Eye on Dick like Dick is just going to remove his darling puppy from her nap spot? Sir. Please be serious.

Idk where i was going with this but also Lucky the hardened established dog hero and Haley his young impetuous sidekick dog, Jeff finding missions for them working out of Batcow's barn. BITEWING!!! I am dead. Pandemonium is their business.

lol for some reason Haley is giving me cat vibes a little. Lucky is like, this is Pizza Girl. Protecting Pizza Girl is my sworn duty. And Haley is like I am BITEWING. This is my human sidekick, Nightwing.

(Also for some reason I'm lowkey vibing Clint and Babs???? For this???? I think they are besties regardless but just seeing them watching their favo disaster birds getting parent trapped by their DOGS like "are you seeing this? I'm not the only one seeing this right????")

ANyway maybe Clint has custody of Lucky so Kate and Jeff are moping hanging out at a park (Jeff is an extrovert and he is LONELY he wants FRIENDS) and one of two things happens:

Haley bolts and Dick is chasing after her and hears someone go "Don't you BARK at him, he didn't do anything! He just wants to be friends!" which makes Dick have the simultaneous thoughts of "oh no what did my dog do" and "how DARE you yell at my dog!!"

he rounds the corner and sees Haley looking as chagrined as a chaos pup can look before scootching closer to the other dog and licking its...nose. Snout?

"That's a shark," Dick says. The shark in question is now dragging out what appears to be a rotisserie chicken and is sharing it with Haley.

"What?" Kate says. "No, he's just a rare breed of dog. The, uh. The Chilean Hairless....land...shark."

OR Haley is Not Afraid! She decided she and Dick were playing fetch with one of his escrima sticks and she took OFF so now Dick is yelling for her hoping she comes back with the same stick she left with.

So Dick is hollering for her and Kate answers back "Haley is over here! Uhh assuming Haley is a dog and not a child, or a bird, or a lizard of some kind?"

And that's when Dick sees his dog playing with his escrima stick with a shark??? who is leaving dents in his weapon????

Kate isn't even looking at Dick when she's like "hey, do you come here often? Jeff has been really lonely and she's the first dog we've met that isn't terrified of him, so that's pretty cool, anyway hi my name is Kate...." and THEN she looks up (and up, and up) at Dick and is like. oh my god. is this why Gwen said we should try this park today??? Because of beautiful dog dad man?

either way Jeff REFUSES to leave Haley which means Dick and Kate have to spend most of the day together. At some point MODOK tries to steal Jeff back and Haley plants herself in front of Jeff and growls at MODOK and she's actually pretty intimidating but it's still the cutest thing ever. Jeff and Haley are ride-or-dies, like Jeff will be mad at Dick when Haley has to go to the vet.

[sleepymarmot]

Ravenous (1999)

Liveblog

“George, people don’t still do that, do they?” “White man eats the body of Jesus Christ every Sunday.” First of all, laughed out loud. Second, oh so this is why the newcomer looks so Christlike :D

Did he really need to call it “virility” lmao

Was disappointed when Carlyle’s character suddenly became very animalistic

How long did Boyd lie in that forest with a broken bone without food and water? With the blood from the wounds fresh on his face as if no time has passed? And then ate the other guy which implies the meat was fresh? Based on the moon, at first I thought it was almost a month, then realized it should be less because it was close to half a cycle instead of a full cycle, then realized the moon phases were shown backwards anyway. But even if we count backwards it should be about two weeks.

“Perhaps later, you might… contribute [to the stew]” this guy was Hannibal before Hannibal

Thoughts

*checks another Gay Subtext classic off my list*

Surprised to see multiple reviews describe the film’s subject matter as unusual or unmarketable; I guess I’m lucky to live in the same general area of the internet as a bunch of fans of various intersections between “angsty men in a period piece”, “repressed homoeroticism”, and “eating people”.

Full disclosure: I’d been meaning to watch this for years, but the real motivation to pick this specific film out of my watchlist and press play was that I’d decided to watch at least one movie per month, and then missed the entirety of March and was left on the evening of March 31st trying to pick something not too long or too heavy. 

Luckily, the vibe turned out to be exactly what I expected. Though I didn’t anticipate how much this film is at once! It’s a comedy, it’s a tragedy, it’s western, it’s horror, it’s romance. There’s a precarious balance between naturalism and camp that I’m not sure I was satisfied with, but the unevenness adds to the unpolished, uncommercialized arthouse aesthetic of the film (fitting for a work about raw meat to feel raw itself!), and the resulting stew is tasty enough that in the end I don’t really care. The ending is so neat that the tragedy feels satisfying rather than heartbreaking (I rewatched it months later while finishing this review, and was grinning from ear to ear), and the overall story manages to be simultaneously refreshingly straightforward and thematically rich (lots to chew on! ba dum tsh). 

Other people are better equipped to write about the political themes of the film (or its treatment of Native American characters and folklore) than I am, but I was surprised and impressed by the scene near the end that textually compares cannibalism to colonialist expansion, and then, without a pause, makes cannibalism stand for homosexuality in subtext so strong that it’s almost text, that I have to forcibly remind myself that these lines could possibly be about anything other than the protagonist’s repressed attraction to men in general and the antagonist specifically. 

Special shout outs to the Christian imagery and how well it works with the themes, and to Michael Nyman and Damon Albarn’s work on the soundtrack (I remember how months or years ago I first learned who wrote music for the niche gay cannibal movie I’d seen mentioned from time to time, and did a double take). And the final shout out — to the Native American final girl.

[bigthingsforeverintheworks]

god i feel like i'm the only person with a correct take about gen alpha slang like the correct stance definitely lies somewhere in between "oh no they're ruining language" and "it's ok don't worry about it you were just like them, generations going to hate"

Because like ok so most egregiously is (full disclosure I do not care about the difference between gen z/gen alpha or like responsibility really; I mean yes i do find the narratives associated with gen alpha being doomed by their langauge somewhat compelling emotionally but also that's not really my point):

Why are gen alpha fucking mewing like that is just an incel thing straight-up. There are two caveats which are:

From what I can tell not a whole lot of incel terminology has been directly acclimated into gen alpha slang (alpha/beta/sigma is like kind of that but it's been more broadly distributed, same with chads)

Actually wait i lied. They do seem to have kind of died down/I stopped interacting with gen alpha as much but looksmaxxing & mogging are like at least in the zeitgeist. But still like it doesn't seem like the ideology really got through at least to everybody.

The second part of that is that I'm not entirely sure all of them are doing it like for the purpose of getting a better jawline like some of them definitely are but like when ... the rizzler does it it's kind of hard to tell.

Though like. I have my personal beef with the kid who calls himself the rizzler because like. That's just a word; and often functions as a title bequeathed unto individual people in certain situations and you have little to make you especially deserving of the ideal of that title.

Since we're already talking about rizz like I mean in itself isn't like too bad of a word but it's often used in weird ways when not used ironically like it's kind of based in like manosphere ways (to my best understanding); now granted like all terms the definition is loose and certainly encompasses an ironic understanding of the concept (i.e. the "can i rizz you up // pls pls pls pls pls pls pls pls" post) but it's kind of hard to detach yourself completely from the original meaning

Though like next we have "skibidi". I have it on good word that this word means nothing, like it's arguably more commonly a positive word but even taht is unclear, it does generally serve as like a modifier though also sometimes it's just like a substitue for cool (i.e. "that's not very skibidi of you") like I mean I don't have too many particular issues but also it is serving a pretty different use to any slang in the past, yeet came kind of close but was centered around meaning like "to throw"

Fanum tax uh. I honestly don't know.

Now for the terms I don't really have an issue with:

pookie - not really my thing but sure

giving/ate/etc. - yeah same thing

aura - I mean if i squinted there's something going on but like eh.

Ohio - Kind of the same

what the sigma - lol funny

Now comes the big one which is the like "What is bro yapping about :skull: :skull:". Like yes I do acknowledge that this is sometimes a way to like... not necessarily hold people accountable but like there's a bluntness that sort of shatters through *a* social norm, but there isn't really much care as to who it's directed at, and it's also oftentimes just a very unspecific argument. Sometimes it's "this is too long" sometimes it's "this is too much fluff" sometimes it's "you're just like wrong" or it could just be "this does not interest me". And it loses a good bit of its charm when it's used in like informal contexts. And simialrly like it provides a new word for people to depricate themselves with like "idk i'm just yapping" is a way too common sentiment; not necessarily the word's fault or even gen alpha's fault but.

There is also AAVE stuff there too

And like i do want to stress the extent of my actual slang (& other "annoying" kid culture i participated in i suppose) i used growing up was like I used the word yeet sometimes. Asterisk in that sites are saying that some things are slang that i wouldn't consider like i've probably called something a bop or said mood (though not really in sincerity ever); oh vibe that is a quintessential like "this is a space in the language that it's surprising wasn't already filled"

[birdstooth]

Omg so full disclosure I haven’t read this YET but I’m reblogging for later bc I saw the SOCCER descriptor and was like yyyaaaassssss, finally something I have a clue about😭😭😭 

a lot of random speculation under the cut

Side note: Does anyone else feel like they are missing out on some aspect of the story when they don’t have a full understanding of the AU concept??Mob!Character?  Yeah… idk how the mob works outside of goofy Italian stereotypes and SNL skits. Biker!character? Not really sure what the vibe is like in biker gang tbh. Best Friend!Character? Brother, I haven’t had non-hostile interaction with another human being since I ate my sibling in the womb so idk what to say here either (jk… I was an only child in the womb) 

Anyway, I feel I have an adequate knowledge of soccer so here’s my pregame analysis of the story based solely on the moodboard/graphic. I look forward to reading the fic after and being completely wrong about everything lmao.

FIRST, I’m looking at the jerseys.

The colour scheme says Argetina (lol I prob only thought this bc the WC is still kinda recent in my mind), but the lions say EPL.

Next thought: Is this a reference? An homage to some player? A basis for one of the characters? Who has worn those jersey numbers in the past?? 

With that in mind, here’s my list of the most notable (to me) players who have worn 7 or 17 from some of the more well-known teams in recent-ish history

Chelsea:

#7

Ramirez

Scott Parker (to all the naysayers - yeah maybe he’s a mediocre player that isn’t in the same league most of the others on this list, but he still deserves a spot ok. Why? Bc I’m pretty sure he was England captain in a friendly PLUS, his haircut makes him look like a handsome ww2 RAF pilot)  

Didier Deschamps (!!)

#17. Eden Hazard 

SPURS (COYS♥️):

#7. As much as I love Sonny (Son Heung-mi), there’s no one really famous famous that has worn this number

#17. Kevin Prince-Boateng (aka the brother that’s that’s not Jérôme lol), Moussa Sissoko

Manchester United:

#7. The man, the myth, the legend… CR7 himself lmao 

#17. Nani

Manchester City:

#7. James Milner

#17. Jerome Boateng, Kevin De Bruyne

Liverpool (my dad’s home team haha):

#7. Luis Suárez (the guy that bites people) , James Milner (with his second appearance on this list!)

#17. Álvaro Arbeloa

Arsenal:

#7. No one??? Or maybe this is just my spurs bias showing omg sorry lol

#17. Alexis Sánchez? 

Sorry if your fav team didn’t make it on the list lol 

So looking this over, no one really jumps out as being particularly “Bucky” or “Steve” characters (other than Scott Parker…for his haircut). Like, even if we take the most lauded player CR7, his diva attitude kind of rules him out as the basis for either of these guys so I guess OP just liked those numbers or maybe I missed another hint??

If I had to choose players to base them on tho, I can definitely see Bucky being a midfield maestro like Schweinstieger just based on that one post someone made explaining how he had to do mad quick algebra equations in his head to accurately snipe people, so yeah, he seems like he could be a "see the big picture"/orchestrate the plays kind of dude.

And Steve I can see as a Neuer-like team captain, not just bc they are both tall, stoic blonde ppl, but they both have this calm leader energy on one hand, and boundless enthusiasm on the other (Neuer’s post match heat map.... dude wants to play midfield lol it gave me a heart attack everytime he left his post) 

But neither of those fellas is a striker and I feel like the moodboard implies that one of them should be, so I have zero conclusions here. I mean I can also maybe picture Bucky being like a cocky Giroud kind of striker? idk idk. 

What Just Happened?

Pairing: College!SoccerPlayer!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader and College!SoccerPlayer!Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.4K

Summary: Fed up with having your feelings played with you decide to have some fun with a with your friend Steve.

Warnings: 18+ MDI. There's no actual smut but defo some mature sexual themes the whole way through. Little bit of angst, feelings and some swearing too

A/N: This is my first time writing college Bucky and I certainly didn't set out to make him an athlete too but the story went that way so yeah! I'm excited!!

Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics and mood board by me ☺️

Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist

You knew it was wrong to play with people’s feelings, it was never your intention to hurt anyone. You were left with no choice, you had been an innocent bystander when hurricane Bucky Barnes tore through you and wrecked your heart.

It was hard to put him out of your mind, but you’d be damned if you were just going to sit and pine over him until the day you graduated.

If anyone else had been around that night you probably would have gone for them, but Steve was there, he was cute and down to have a good time with you.

If anyone else had been around that night you probably would have gone for them, but Steve was there, he was cute and down to have a good time with you.

You and he were in identical situations, you were crying into your ice cream tub over Bucky and he was completely hung up on Natasha. You were just two friends messing around, hopelessly trying to forget someone else.

Most of all, you were painfully aware of how stupid it was to fall in love with your roommate and your best friend. It’s not like you had any control over it though.

You and Bucky clicked from the moment you met freshman year. He’d come rushing past you in the library all in a fluster, completely lost, looking for the same seminar room you’d given up on finding minutes before. He threw himself down in the chair beside you, grumbling apologies as he intensely stared at a crumpled map.

Despite the first week nerves bubbling in your stomach, you pushed through and offered him a strawberry Mento and a friendly smile. He was the first person you’d built up the courage to speak to and you were so happy you did.

You sat and spoke for hours, the seminar long forgotten about as you made fast friends. You shared everything with one another, from your big dreams to deepest secrets. It was like you were meant to meet.

You were the founding members of your friend group, you’d both brought everyone together piece by piece until the puzzle was complete. You’d created a family away from all of your homes.

You weren’t sure when your feelings changed for Bucky, you always loved him but being in love with him had developed over time. I had crept up on you out of nowhere.

It’d been easier to ignore when you were living with Wanda, but by the end of junior year she moved in with her boyfriend and it seemed that Bucky was the only person on campus with a spare room.

Being thrown into close quarters with him all the time added pressure to your friendship. It brought feelings bubbling up to the surface that you’d pushed down for so long.

Now that you lived together, it was harder to stop the casual flirting; you didn’t go out of your way to touch each other, somehow you just always were. It was all just too easy and the way you both liked it. You’d created the perfect recipe for a disaster.

Despite the constant battle with your feelings, you thought you had everything under control. Until the touching and the flirting crossed over the line.

It started five weeks ago. You began sharing secret drunk kisses, hidden in the dark corners of some sweaty frat house.

It never went further than a steamy kiss, Bucky always stopped it. No matter how good it felt to have your lips on his, to have his arms wrapped around your body, he always stopped it.

I don’t wanna compromise our friendship.

That was his excuse, his reason for stopping. And each time he stopped, you stood there, nodding breathlessly as his cologne flooded your nostrils, sending your fuzzy brain sky high. You understood, but it was still a bitter pill to swallow.

Bucky was the perfect guy, but he had serious commitment issues. He never understood how much he was hurting you when he bought some random back on the same nights he made out with you. It was the purest form of torture having to listen to his night time activities through the paper thin walls.

You knew all of them meant nothing and somehow that made it hurt more. It was all fine, that’s what you kept telling yourself, until it wasn’t. Until it became too much, the constant, never ending heartbreak for you, all the while Bucky continued to dangle himself in front of you like the most delicious doughnut in the bakery.

So you snapped.

Steve was already sitting at the usual table in your most beloved bar with an empty whiskey glass and the saddest look in his eyes when you arrived.

A couple of poorly played pool games and an unhealthy amount of alcohol led to you both spilling your secrets all over the sticky tables. Sharing things you’d vowed never to speak out loud.

You don’t remember who suggested what, but within a few hours you were back at your apartment. Your clothes tangled up in dribs and drabs from the front door to your bedroom. You’d left the perfect breadcrumb trail for Bucky to find upon returning home from practice.

You were too wrapped up in Steve to care about Bucky’s feelings, for once you were putting yourself first. Steve knew exactly how to make you writhe underneath him, he had you whimpering his name brokenly loud enough to travel through the walls.

For once you fell asleep satisfied, not miserable, lulled to sleep by Steve’s soft snores.

As you stirred awake, a foreign serenity settled over you with Steve’s strong arms wrapped around your body, pulling you into him. Blinking your eyes open, you smiled as his lips grazed your length of your neck, reminding you of the night before.

“Morning.” The gravel in his tone, set off a kaleidoscope of butterflies in your tummy. “I had a lot of fun last night.”

“Me too, Steve.” You giggled, he was so warm and playful in the morning, it really took you by surprise.

Steve sat up against the headboard, sleep still dusted over his feature. The sunlight streamed in from the window and illuminated his pale skin. His usually perfectly styled golden hair were now flat and messy.

“What?” He asked, meeting your gaze.

You sheepishly pulled your lip between your teeth and shook your head quickly, “nothing, just admiring a pretty face.” Steve laughed loudly, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Thanks for getting my mind off of everything last night.” He held his hand out to you, lacing your fingers together and pulled you into his lap. “Can I cook you breakfast, as a thank you?” His large hands squeezed your thighs gently.

A smile fought its way onto your lips, your hands resting on top of his. “Only if you make me pancakes.”

“It’s like you read my mind.” He chuckled, pressing his lips to yours softly.

Steve carried you giggling from your bed to the countertop, offering a stern order to stay put while he cooked, followed up with a sweet kiss.

So you sat there on the counter in his oversized training shirt from soccer. Your feet were dangling and your fingers were tapping the side in time with the soft music playing from the radio.

Steve whipped up the fluffiest looking pancakes you’d ever laid eyes on and brewed the perfect pot of coffee. He was a natural in the kitchen, the sight of the food had you salivating.

It was as you watched him cook and ate you delicious breakfast that you pondered over the whole situation. You and Steve had always been close but Bucky remained an unspoken boundary between you. Last night you’d broken that down barrier and it had you questioning why you’d never done it before, because you got on so well.

Everything about the morning was so easy and fun. Under all the smiles though, a pebble of fear settled in your stomach, it was scary how natural it felt with Steve, but that was a crisis for another day.

The sound of Bucky’s door flying open sent a knife piercing through the lightness in the kitchen. The apartment walls trembled nervously as his door collided with the wall. Steve flipped his final pancake and promptly placed it on top of his stack.

Your appetite died almost instantly, but you continued to munch on your maple covered pancakes, even if it was out of fear.

As his footsteps grew louder, so did the blood rushing to your ears. You wanted to sink into the ground, but Bucky was standing in the kitchen well before hell decided to swallow you up.

“Morning Buck!” Steve sang over his shoulder as he finished up with the toppings on his pancakes. He was totally oblivious to the deep blue stare burning a hole in the back of his head.

Bucky’s eyes flickered from Steve to you and back again, he’d seen your clothes on the floor last night but seeing you both in the flesh together felt surreal. You were completely frozen in place, each time his hard stare met your guilty eyes, your heart leaped out of its chest.

A lump formed in your throat as his eyes travelled down your body, taking in the sight of you in his best friend’s jersey. His eyes stopped mid thigh, where the shirt stopped and then he met your eyes once again, a vacant look in his eyes.

While Steve had gobbled down his pancakes at lightning speed, yours remained half eaten on the counter next to you. He grabbed his coffee from the side and took a final swig.

Bucky’s eyes widened in a way you’d never seen before, if he was a cartoon character you were certain they would have fallen out of his head.

“Is that my coffee mug?” He spat venomously.

Steve’s brows furrowed, inspecting the Team’s Best Striker mug, that you’d bought Bucky for his birthday, firmly in his grasp and shrugged. “Uhh…yeah, it was on the draining board this morning. Sorry Buck.” He shot his friend a confused look before putting the empty mug in the sink.

You cast your eyes to the floor, unable to stand the weight of your guilt dragging the mood down in the room, it’d soured the happy start to the morning. Every second that ticked by the tension grew thicker. You felt awful for parading Steve around the apartment in front of Bucky, it was selfish.

Another very awkward beat passed between the three of you until Steve’s phone chimed. The sound was a rude awakening from the self-loathing pit you were spiralling into at a rapid rate.

“Ah shit, gonna be late to practice, I gotta shoot.” Steve announced, grabbing his keys from the counter beside you. “I’ll text you later,” he grinned, leaning in to kiss your cheek softly. “You coming Buck?”

“In a minute.” Bucky grunted under his breath, barely loud enough for anyone to hear. Steve took the incoherent mumble for what it was and headed towards the door.

“Wait Steve, what about your shirt?” You called out, cringing as the words left your lips. You felt yourself making the whole situation worse, but it was like word vomit.

“Keep it, it looks better on you anyways.” He shot you a wink and sprinted out of the room.

You could feel the steam rising from Bucky’s body, you could hear how harshly he was grinding his teeth. He was doing everything in his power not to launch at his best friend and punch him in the throat.

The dust settled into the uncomfortable silence as the door slammed shut. Bucky remained in his place, his cheeks flushed, jaw wound impossibly tight, blue eyes flaming.

“Buck I didn’t know you’d be home, I’m so-” The words tumbled out of your mouth in a nervous jumble, but Bucky held his hand up to stop you.

“Please don’t speak for a second.” He muttered.

“Okay.”

It felt like you sat there for a hundred years as he processed everything, you waited and waited. And yet, everything happened in such a blur, so quickly.

One moment you were metres apart and then he was right in front of you. He slotted himself between your dangling legs, his cold metal hand ran up the length of your thigh, along the curve of your body. Carefully exploring your body over Steve’s t-shirt.

His other hand cupped your cheek and pulled your face towards his, smashing his lips down onto yours. He kissed you with a neediness and passion that shocked you.

Your lips reacted before your brain could stop you, your fingers clawed at his body desperately pulling him closer to you. You matched his need with your own, it was a clash of teeth and tongues.

Bucky’s metal fingertips hooked under your knee, pulling you forwards into him more and wrapped your legs around his torso.

He pulled back and placed kisses all over your face, stopping when his lips hovered over yours once again and breathed you in.

His minty fresh breath attacked your senses, perfectly balancing the sweet and sour scent of the pancakes and coffee lingering on your breath.

You tipped your head upwards, your nose brushing his and reconnected your mouths again. This time it was slower, but you felt the passion he poured into your lips.

His vibranium hand held the back of your neck firmly, keeping you in place. Your fingers tangled through his messy brown locks and tugged gently. A soft moan erupted from his check, it was the most heavenly sound you’d ever heard.

Bucky’s warm hand traced soft patterns along your thighs pushing up the shirt higher and higher until his fingers ghosted over your soaked panties.

You whined into his mouth, your hips bucked into his hand desperate for more from him.

“Bucky, please.” You whimpered into his mouth.

Bucky’s movements stilled, your words awoke him from whatever jealous spell had overcome him. He pulled away from you, his chest heaved steadily as he caught his breath, his lips were swollen, his cheeks tinged pink.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.” He breathed, before backing out of the room and making a run for the front door.

You sat there for God knows how long replaying the moment over and over in your head, trying to make any sort of sense of it.

You weren’t sure where he’d gone or why he would leave so suddenly, but it didn’t feel like he’d truly left you. You could still taste the minty reminiscence of his toothpaste on your tongue, feel his lips moving against yours, his handprints marked on your body.

Now your head was truly fucked.

Tagging: @delaber @elemenhoepe @theselilwonders @ramp-it-up @nikole-witha-k @mkirk12776 @rivers-rambles21 @turbolisedcomet @im-a-marvel-ous-hoe @aquariusbarnes

[dzpenumbra]

2/14/23

Today was bad.

Yoga was alright, nothing too extreme, just longer than usual. I ate a muffin after. I had a whole plan. I was going to eat the muffin, then shower (with no music, so I - in theory - shower faster), then grab an apple, grab my consent form and head out to the health center. While in the shower, I had the realization that I have absolutely no accurate perception of time in the shower, especially when I have a plentiful supply of hot water. I would use music to time my showers, dating all the way back to high school, before that, I would be in the shower up to 45 minutes sometimes. It was helpful to remember that, a far-dated reminder that this issue with knowing where I am in time is a lifelong thing I've struggled with. I can pick up contextual clues, but my intuitive internal clock is just one big "?".

I grabbed my apple and form and headed out. Then started to think of this really stupid joke to break the ice with the doctors - using humor as a coping mechanism to ease my anxiety. I was going to ask them if it was okay if I brought the apple into the lobby. You know, "an apple a day", that whole thing. Yeah. <groan> But as I thought that, I realized I didn't have my bandana with me. You know, the whole ongoing infectious disease pandemic thing. So I went back and got it. This was just like... the first of a chain reaction of things going wrong.

I brought the form in, the dude behind the counter looked at it as though he had no idea what a form was... just in general, let alone this form. He had a second person look it over to check and make sure it was properly filled out. I was just like... I mean... it's an information disclosure form. It had my therapist's name and address, their name and address... and "Full Medical History" checked, and my signature and date. THAT'S IT. And this dude who I have never met before, who doesn't know me from Adam, is reading my therapist's name and address out loud, and asking for help checking to see if this form was like... filled out correctly. ... It had weird vibes. So as the woman he called over for help came over... the doctor came in. The one I met with. And she didn't acknowledge my presence at all. And someone walked behind me... And the whole fucking situation just made me go into like... "I'm in the woods and I don't entirely think I'm on a trail anymore and it's getting dark super quick, oh and I just heard some twigs snap over there" mode. I mean... a lesser degree of it, but still... I went inward real quick. And I just wanted to get out of there. Like... it's a week after my appointment and I'm finally getting this form in. The two people are like... taking 5 whole minutes to verify I actually filled this form out correctly... and the doctor who I should be consulting with about like... following up on this form? She's standing like a foot and a half behind them. I was going to point that out, but... I felt it would be a bit forward or something, like she obviously just got out of an appointment, it was the end of the day, I didn't want to put her on the spot. Right when the second receptionist gave a masked smile and thumbs up, and "yeah, you're all set." I gave a warm "thanks" and speed walked the fuck out of there. I could not get out of that health center quick enough.

I was upset with myself when I got in the car. I have a serious problem with... feeling unfairly judged by medical personnel. I have a long, traumatic history involved with this, so it's very justified, and I'm doing my best to work through it. But I just got this thought in my head when I got in my car, this vibe from the place, that I should lock my fucking doors. Like I could get stabbed or robbed in the lobby or something. I got that vibe when I was on the street with all the shops the other day, before dinner with my brother/nephew/sister-in-law. And... I mean... isn't that judgement? Isn't that me being presumptuously judgmental? Isn't that me doing exactly what fucks with me when people do it to me? And yeah, like I said, I got upset with myself for this. And I still can't really find a good inner resolution for it. Probably because I'm still on high yellow alert right now.

I had a bit of trouble fear-wise just... getting out the door today. I don't know what factor caused it, it feels like sometimes I just have days where it's like... my feet are glued to the ground and I have to make myself go do that kind of stuff. Like my brainstem is just going, "no. bad. danger. no." but not even using words, just draining all of my energy and making it super difficult for me to do anything. Like... self-sabotage. After the doctor situation kinda... set it off worse? It carried through basically the entire day.

I'm realizing that this all probably sounds super normal to people. Not my reaction, of course, but like... the things that happened. Like... to an outsider, what I described probably sounded like I handed a form to a desk clerk, it took longer than expected, then I got in my car. And that might have been frustrating. And that's it. But for me? For me, that was like... god, it's so hard to describe. Like walking to the grocery store in a bad neighborhood. Alone. There it is. That kinda vibe. Like, it's just a simple task, right? And you just need milk and eggs, so it'll be quick. It's just 2 blocks, just knock it out quick. And then you get there, and the clerk is going to ring you up but they need to balance the register first... and someone sketchy walks into the store and looks at you... That kind of feeling. That's what this felt like for me. And this is not that kind of situation. Like... you saw my reaction immediately after, being frustrated with myself for being that judgmental. I don't think this is a bad neighborhood. There is an elementary school across the street, for fuck's sake! But the vibes were that strong that I was like... actually worried and wondering if I should leave my wallet in my car. I mean that. That's what PTSD will do. That's how convincing it is. Because the pain that was caused to me, the threat that I know from experience is looming right in that building... it really is that dangerous. It is a bad neighborhood for me.

And I feel so horrible about it, because the doctor seems really sweet, and creative, and around my age, and I feel like we could actually be friends if we had the opportunity to get to know eachother.

I carried that fear all the way to Goodwill with me. My personal space comfort-level bubble was like... 10 foot radius today. Like... I was on a mission. I did not want to dawdle. I had a list of furniture written on my hand, I just wanted to get what I wanted and get the fuck out. And... they had fuck-all for furniture. Like... nothing. And... okay, this is silly, but I've had this thing for a long time. I do not like to leave stores without buying something. I don't want people to like... think I'm stealing something. Yeah, I'm an anxious wreck, I know. It's part of this "people suspicious of me" trauma thing. So... I spent a good 15 minutes (which is a long time to be aimlessly wandering, pretending to look at things in a mostly empty store) listening to shitty music and just... trying to think past furniture. Past the frustration. I saw a candleholder, that broke me out of it. It took a few times of looking at it, but I was like... I have this color changing candle that I've never gotten to light because I've never had a candle holder. Well... there I go. And then I found a pretty cool bowl that I liked, could use it for whatever really... then I found a double boiler set, which I was super stoked about, because I ordered a book about a week ago about making your own inks and paints from scratch, and that would really be perfect, I'd imagine. Good for wax work too. And then I found a set of 6 pairs of chopsticks that I thought was sweet. So I grabbed all of that, and a pair of sunglasses too. All I had to do was just... break through the wall, you know? And it started to get a bit better.

And the guy at the checkout actually talked to me, which was... uncomfortable and awkward for me. On "off-days", small-talk is just... it's really forced for me. It's really difficult. So I kinda tripped on my words a lot, and avoided eye contact and shit. And I always feel bad for that, like... I feel bad for extroverts in that situation, they rarely know what to make of me, I'm sure they think there's something wrong with me, or I'm rude or something. If only they knew it was just... suffering. And surprise, honestly. And being out of practice. But I'm sure they deal with enough older people that they're kinda used to some of that. The guy was nice enough and seemed stoked about the chopstick set and the double boiler. I appreciated his enthusiasm.

I went down the road and got food from a fast food place that makes like... real food. But it's affordable and it's really good. I got a Nashville Hot Chicken Sandwich and a Salted Caramel Milkshake. I don't know why I capitalized that, I just felt like making it fancier, I guess. It was really good.

I went home. I ate this food around like... 5:30. My whole schedule has been completely off. But I just said "fuck it" and got food wherever there was a calm in the storm. It paid off.

My mom called. We got 15 minutes in and... conflict. She went up to her barn to look at the scrap wood up there, to check and see if her carpenter friend would be able to make some kind of table or something out of it. She didn't think so. I got frustrated, I was saying stuff like "why is this so damn hard? why can't I just get like... any sized table? Just to put plants on! Or a bookcase? Like any bookcase made from real wood? Is this too much to ask?" Just... flustered. And just... ugh. Like actually confused. Like... okay... if there's no wood in your barn... just like... ask him to buy some cheap lumber, cut it up and make some rudimentary furniture pieces for me to assemble. I literally just need someone with a power saw to cut wood into the right size pieces so I can assemble them. Like... it would be preferable if they didn't assemble it, then the pieces could ship easily. But... for some fucking reason... I am still running into snags with this. And I have been living here for 2 months now. And all my shit is still in boxes. And I have a feeling... yet again... that my shit is going to stay in boxes the entire time I live here. Yet again.

I WONDER WHY.

And... after a decade of this? You just kinda... get used to living with your shit in cardboard boxes in your living room. It becomes normal. Until someone points it out, then you just feel fucking shame.

My mom, having had a difficult day herself... most of which she did not disclose to me until like... the 4 hour mark... decided to take my expression of frustration personally. Just like my ex used to. She was expecting me to thank her for checking the barn for me. And she got my frustration instead. And she thought that frustration was directed towards her. I have no idea how that leap happens, but... it seems staggeringly common. And... it got bad. And I said a few times internally and vocally that I should have left... but... I was scared. Again. I was scared of losing help, losing assistance, losing family... So I stayed. It was bad.

It eventually turned around. I don't know how. It was well after the 2.5 hour mark. I legit feel like I ran a marathon right now. Like... all I did today was yoga, eat, drop off a form, buy some second hand dishes and shit, get takeout and talk on the phone. That was like my entire day. And I feel like I climbed a damn mountain. Emotional exhaustion is just... brutal.

After the "conversation", I put on a stream. That stream just... got really stressful. He was stressing out about how sketchy Twitch is getting, and was clearly super uncomfortable talking about it. The chat kept like... giving live updates on a school shooter and shit, which was super dark and I really don't know why we need to fucking live-Tweet that shit. Like "okay guys, the dude offed himself, we're good" like it's a fucking TV show or something. Like... I've been on a campus where I guy threatened to comeback with a gun, and actually fucking did. Whether he was going to use it or not? Who cares. That feeling? Bro, these fucking kids are in a Twitch chat, you're on the fucking internet, you're not fucking helping by just... following the breaking news and eating popcorn. Why the fuck is that entertaining? This shit is not entertainment. This is terror. It's fucked up shit. And then they go and try to justify it by saying some shit like... "it's important to stay informed" or shit like that. For real? What, so I can stop the next school shooting? Are you shitting me? So I can recite statistics when I'm inevitably quizzed on this? No, I don't need to fetishize a horrific tragedy happening half a continent away from me. I don't need to buy the narrative that following the live-tweets of this trending topic is actually doing anything but giving clicks (aka MONEY) to "journalism" companies. This is not about being informed, it's about being entertained. And making money. And that sickens me. And I don't even want to talk about it anymore. Seriously. It's so fucking dark and gross how we've normalized this. Like... pass the info along to people who can help, who need the info, don't turn the terror and pain of others into a fucking reality show, you sick fucks.

Ugh. That really upset me, in case you didn't notice. Ugh, I'm like... shivering, shuddering.

So I eventually just turned that off entirely, the vibes were just way too bad. I put on YouTube and Rimworld. I made ramen with eggs and scallions and a broth with smoked maple habanero sriracha, soy sauce and sesame oil in it. One of my new favorites. I put on a YouTuber I like who looks into really weird esoteric historic spiritual texts from all over the world. This one was about Greek, Roman and Egyptian magic papyri: spells, incantations, rituals, stuff like that. I thought it was interesting, and I'm curious to compare different cultural rituals to see the similarities and differences are. At the level of like... conceptual. Some are very direct, like almost conversational with a deity or being, just saying like... "_____, please bless and protect _____", or "_____, use your power to bind this demon, and if you're cool like kicking them out and shit too that'd be great, thanks". Others are like... symbolic? Like doing an action in life that kinda symbolizes and pantomimes the action you want yourself? Like breaking a reed and giving the halves to two strong men and having them walk towards eachother while chanting, then when the halves meet, bind the united reed to your broken leg and this theatre and dance will help your leg heal faster. No matter how silly it might seem, I actually think that kind of visualization would help, at very least morale-wise. Some involve mixing symbolic ingredients. Some are a combination of all of them. I don't know, I found it very interesting and I'm curious to look into it more.

I'd like to actually perform some form of traditional blessing for some of my jewelry pieces at some point. Obviously protection, for a person like me, after the day I described, shouldn't be too surprising. But peace and healing as well would be nice. And yeah, I'm a hippie in that regard, and I'm kinda getting past the judgment on it. I think of it this way. If I take... half an hour of my life. And I devote that time and effort exclusively to wishing a complete stranger feels protected and safe. That sacrifice, that act, that devotion of myself towards that sentiment - that means something. The thing that I give them can serve as a reminder, a symbol, of that act. And looking at that bracelet or necklace reminds them of that, "someone put a lot of love into this, in order to remind me that I can feel safe right now." If that person normally doesn't feel safe? And my act of devotion? My act of devoting myself to that degree to send a message to them, is referred to? And makes a difference in the future? How is that not magic? :D

Inspiration, kindness, sentiment. These are so powerful. And these little reminders, totems, mementos. These are things I'd like to make right now. These I'm feeling strongly drawn towards. Things that are beautiful, but that can also provide people a practical use for emotional wellbeing. An act that transcends superstition and becomes more of a... personal reconnection... a reminder of concepts that we might need in our lives. Like a tattoo. Like what tattoos do.

If you're new here, would you be surprised to hear that I trained to be a tattooist? XD Maybe this was a natural transition. I always saw tattoos as a sacred art. Very personal, like scars, reminders/messages to the self. I'd like to pursue other forms of sacred art as well. ... I'd like to continue, that is... XD

I wrote a lot here tonight.

Today had so much darkness in it, within and without. And I came out the ass-end of it wanting nothing more than to conjure up as much light as I can, imbue it into whatever I create and get that in the hands of those whose lives it would vastly improve. So, again, my plan is to use that light to... heal myself, for one. Then figure out where to go from there.

And in the meantime, I'm going to try to not think about what day tomorrow is. -_-

[petrichorium]

BAM: Flower Crowns

in which gojo satoru, your beloved king and betrothed, knows his time is best spent in your company riling you up.

gojo satoru x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k reader: fem (she/her pronouns, fem terms, fem clothing including dresses) tags: fluff, royal au, childhood friends to lovers, once again hes pushy n the reader's a lil bit hesitant but hed stop if she rlly wanted, vague references to violence note: see i was gonna do a few lil scenes but the first one got away from me.... but basically the period of him courting the reader (which full disclosure isnt technically courting bc that should be happening before one proposes but this occurs while theyre engaged bc Gojo Didnt Get That Memo but i digress) is just him being WILDLY inappropriate for cultural standards, everyone silently pitying the reader, and the reader having a whole ton of conflicting emotions but ultimately rlly liking it 😭😭😭

usurper!gojo tag || masterlist

“they say you’re inhuman, you know.” you’ve finished the flower chain. his eyes don’t stray from your fingers as they nimbly connect the two ends and tie them together with a final stem into a thick circlet. “they said it a lot that night. they said you were the gods’ fury made mortal.”

he snickers. “how dramatic.”

you lift yourself up onto your thighs, shuffle towards him further and reach out, and he bows his head to let you place your creation upon it. your hand trails down when you let go, drifting over his ear and along his jaw as he lifts his head from its bow to look at you. you certainly mean to pull it away but his hand beats you to it, darting up to keep your palm against his cheek as you settle back down on the backs of your heels.

“i know why they came to that conclusion,” you say. “you terrified me when i saw you.”

“did you think me inhuman?”

you hum, eyes tracing along the band of flowers now gracing his forehead, falling to rest on his hand over yours. “no. never. monstrous, perhaps. odious. but very human.”

Satoru finds you out on the grounds, tucked away at the edge where the manicured gardens give way to rough forest. The weather has been turbulent, but for the first time since the coup there’s enough sun to stand being outside the castle longer than a scant few minutes. You’d said that morning that you planned to venture out, now that early spring flowers were beginning to bloom.

You’re cloaked in heavy furs, layers of skirts and wool protecting you from the cold, all elaborate garments that he’s gifted you. It's adorable (satisfying) to see you dressed up in his presents. He tells you as much when he finds you, delves into the treeline long before you see him so that he can sneak up upon you and whisper it into your ear to make you yelp and jump away.

“You mongrel,” you accuse with wide eyes and a hand on your heart as you work to steady your breathing. “Have you no respect for your future wife?”

“Ah, she admits it readily now? Progress.”

Your face twists as if someone has struck you. He chooses to ignore it and drops to sit sprawled out on the grass, beckoning unabashedly for you to join him on his lap. You won’t relent, he’s well aware, but he’ll have his desires known either way.

“Presumptuous,” you say. He'd die a happy man if you kissed him as many times as you called him that, but in lack of the former he’ll be content with the latter.

“Sit with me, my queen. I've missed you.”

“I am not yet your queen, Satoru,” you correct out of obligation. “You saw me an hour ago, we ate together.”

“Ah, but every moment apart is agony.” Satoru wonders if you know how serious he is beneath the breezy tone. From the way you wrinkle your nose, he doubts it.

“You have a meeting with your advisors now. You should not be out here.”

He pouts. “But you’re out here, and if I have to spend more time with those old fools than you today then I'll throw a tantrum tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes, let out a sigh that sounds long-suffering, but you shift your skirts and ease yourself down to sit gracefully before him with your legs tucked next to you. His threats aren’t empty and you know it.

“Fine.” You look down, as if inspecting the grass, spreading fingers along the blades as you begin to pluck wildflowers. Then you pause and glance up at him. “Remove those… oh, whatever they are. Let me see your eyes unhindered, at least.”

“Anything for my darling bride,” he coos at you, immediately doing as asked. He’d have done so anyway, if only to watch you lose yourself in staring when he reveals his eyes, catching yourself once he blinks and snapping your head back to the ground to busy yourself once more with plucking your blooms.

“How do you see a thing through those,” you grumble lowly, certainly just to break yourself from being flustered. It works too well; Satoru immediately jumps on the chance you’ve given him.

“Would you like to try them?” he asks, but doesn’t wait for a response, mind already conjuring an image of you draped in every golden chain and precious stone gracing his chambers.

He removes them from his face, pulling the chain from around his neck, and swiftly transfers them to yours before you can refuse—tilts your head up to look at him and tugs your hair out of the way with deft fingers, eases the gilded extremities onto your ears and lets the pads of his digits linger on either side of your head before pulling away. Pausing in your work and tilting your head back down to peer at him over the top of the frames, you blink at him owlishly from behind the glass, unused to staring through it. Precious, he thinks, and wishes briefly to kiss you—but he has to be smart about kissing you, calculating. Too much attention too fast and you have a tendency to pull away from him like the ebbing tide. It's agony for him, wanting nothing more than to hold you as much as he wishes, but as much as he wants there’s very little he hates more than when you tense under his touch and turn away from him.

“They suit you better,” he tells you, because they do. You look good adorned with jewelry of his design. “You oughtn’t wear them in public, though, or all the courtiers will be scrambling to get themselves a pair. Just for me, I suppose.”

Your nose wrinkles at the mention of your newfound influence, eyes darting to the side and lower lip pouting, an expression that makes him cast aside all his convoluted schemes to ease you into his affections. He leans down to peck at your lips, kiss away the pout, gone before you can complain. It’s fast enough that you don’t immediately recoil and give him a lecture on decorum, or perhaps you’re simply getting more used to it.

Satoru’s attention doesn’t stray as you return to your work. You’ve gravitated towards flowers with long stems, he realizes; collected them in a pile on your skirts, which you seem to have deemed large enough as you pick a notably long one up and begin to string them together in a chain. You don’t bother removing his glasses either, simply allowing them to slide down to the end of your nose. The golden chain clinks softly with every movement of your head.

He wonders when you learned to make them. You’ve always been so careful about the skills you acquire, but he thinks perhaps your mother might have taught you. Or his aunt, for how much she loves flowers, and for how much of her time as queen (he’s been told anyway) was spent doing such frivolous things as making daisy chains in the gardens. You’re so very meticulous with your actions, every choice carefully constructed. He knows you’ve been doing that less and less around him—perhaps it’s finally sinking in that he cares very little about your actions, that he finds everything you do to be enthralling. More likely you’ve exhausted yourself trying. You’ve certainly exhausted yourself attempting to rein him in, though he’d like to believe you’re beginning to allow yourself to enjoy his antics.

Posterity, he thinks, will paint him as you do—bold, brash, uncaring of tradition, unapologetic in pursuit of a woman far beneath his status. There are a great many reasons you hesitate to marry him, he doesn’t blame you for your doubt. Certainly when he was younger he’d never imagined himself the type of man you’d end up betrothed to; he couldn’t count on his fingers the number of more suitable matches for the both of you in the eyes of society, but whereas in his youth he might silence himself and go along with the whims of his advisors he’s lost all sense of decency now. His close call with death and the coup he’d spent years preparing for had rid him of any desire to compromise, and he stands now in a position where he can certainly refuse the very people who once held sway over him. And you appreciate all of that, he knows it. It’s one of the reasons he adores you so; beneath your veneer of decorum lies not a lady but a queen with desires all too different from those you’ve been forced to portray. He’s always known this, and to an extent he can’t find it within himself to regret the events that have led him to where he is today because if they hadn’t transpired he wouldn’t have you.

Satoru remembers a time in his youth when his mother made a passing mention that she enjoyed a certain hairstyle on young girls—two long braids, tied with ribbons. For months afterward all the upcoming court ladies wore it diligently, yourself included. He found it painful to see on you until he discovered that they made a lovely way to pull your nose from a book and fix your attention onto him, and that he could tug on the ribbons at the ends until they unfurled and he could pocket them to return later by tying them around the necks of one of his hunting dogs and sending it after you.

(If he were the kind of man you’d marry without hesitation he’d feel remorse for his childhood actions. Instead he’s the man you will marry, and he plots how to steal one of your hair ribbons again and return it in the same way. For memory’s sake.)

“They say you’re inhuman, you know.” You’ve finished the flower chain. His eyes don’t stray from your fingers as they nimbly connect the two ends and tie them together with a final stem into a thick circlet. “They said it a lot that night. They said you were the Gods’ fury made mortal.”

He snickers. “How dramatic.”

You lift yourself up onto your thighs, shuffle towards him further and reach out, and he bows his head to let you place your creation upon it. Your hand trails down when you let go, drifting over his ear and along his jaw as he lifts his head from its bow to look at you. You certainly mean to pull it away but his hand beats you to it, darting up to keep your palm against his cheek as you settle back down on the backs of your heels.

“I know why they came to that conclusion,” you say. “You terrified me when I saw you.”

“Did you think me inhuman?”

You hum, eyes tracing along the band of flowers now gracing his forehead, falling to rest on his hand over yours. “No. Never. Monstrous, perhaps. Odious. But very human.”

“You wound me. I might die by your cruelty.”

“Die, then.”

Satoru makes a show of it just for you. Falling back to sprawl on the ground, he gags violently, stabbing at his own heart with an invisible knife and convulsing with his tongue hanging out until you shriek for him to stop, voice filled with giggles. He takes that as a cue to still, to fall limp as if truly dead with eyes fluttering shut—then beckons you closer.

“I need…” he rasps out, barely audible.

You indulge him and do so. “My king?”

“…iss…”

“What?”

“True love’s kiss,” he repeats louder, pursing his lips expectantly. He doesn’t truly think you’ll do it, and you don’t—you lean in like you will, but bypass his lips entirely and bite his cheek instead.

He yelps, just for you, just so you’ll feel accomplished. And so he can see your smile, hear the smugness in your voice as you say, “It’s a miracle, you’ve come back to life.”

But he doesn’t give you weakness for free. No, he snakes his arms around your waist before you can pull back, and uses the grip to all but pull you on top of his lap as he sits up. Perhaps it’s his lack of insistence on you giving him a kiss, or perhaps he’s simply started to break down your walls enough, but whichever it is you don’t protest. Instead you seem to find flaws in the flower crown you’ve gifted him. Your lips purse, hands coming up to fiddle with the blooms. He realizes that he can’t stand a single moment of your attention on anything other than him, even if your fingers are nearly tangled in his hair.

“If I return to court with a crown of flowers made by my lover still on my head, do you suppose they’ll think me less inhuman?”

Your face falls at the suggestion, eyes widening in mortification. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“It's far more comfortable than that heavy gold. And I happen to personally adore the artisan who made it, so—”

“I don't trust you anymore, take it off! You’ve lost the right!” You attempt to remove it, but he reacts with the very reflexes that make him so inhuman, uses that monstrous height to lift his head higher than you can reasonably reach, though it doesn’t stop you from trying.

“It'd be rude of me to refuse a gift, my queen.” Laughing, Satoru holds you back with ease, eager for the excuse to put his hands all over you while you’re too worked up to feel self-conscious.

“Not yet,” you wail. “Not your queen yet, you knave!”

“Mine either way, though,” he replies smugly with a playful tug to the chain you still wear. “Covered in my presents. It’s only fair that I get to display a token you’ve given me, no?”

“No, it is not. You’ve stolen all of my outerwear and replaced it with these, I've no other choice. But you will not return to your advisors displaying that—that childish trifle, I won't allow it, you will not expose to the court that I made such a thing for yo—oh!”

He tackles you to the ground, careful not to even knock the wind out of you, though he steals your breath the moment you’re safe in his arms by pulling you into a kiss to keep you from talking further. He’d intended it to be faster, but his nose crashes into the tinted spectacles still upon your face and he’s filled with such ardor that he can’t help but deepen it.

Your hand slides behind his head, threads through his hair. He feels you snap a single stem between your fingers. The crown comes apart just as he takes a moment to pull away, and the flowers fall to scatter in the grass beneath him, a halo around your head. There’s a little smile on your face, your chest huffs with quiet laughter, and your palm slides down to the base of his hair. You use that hold and your other hand, which has fisted his tunic, to yank him down and connect your lips again.

Above, a cloud passes. Satoru can feel the sun shine warm on his back, hear the wind in the budding trees, smell the bite of melting snow and the petals of your wildflowers, yet there’s nothing that could distract him from the feeling of your kiss. His eyes close, he pushes closer though he hardly needs to with the way you still tug on his shirt. His arm comes up to brace next to your head, just to make sure he’s holding his own weight rather than crushing you, and the other leaves your waist to trail down your thigh and grip beneath your knee, shifting your leg to hook around him. If your mouth weren’t occupied he thinks you’d be lecturing him for such an obscene display in a place where anyone could stumble upon you—so he does well to keep it occupied, refusing to part even as your grip on his tunic loosens and he’s forced to grab your newly freed hand to pin it to the ground with fingers intertwined.

It's the first time you’ve ever kissed him. He already plots how to push you into doing it again when he finally pulls away, eyes locked on your swollen lips.

[pluviophile-imagines]

i wanna see usurper!gojo's courting shenanigans plsplspls

in which gojo satoru, your beloved king and betrothed, knows his time is best spent in your company riling you up.

gojo satoru x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k genre: fluff, royal au, childhood friends to lovers type: one-shot reader: fem (she/her pronouns, fem terms, fem clothing including dresses) warnings: once again hes pushy n the reader's a lil bit hesitant but hed stop if she rlly wanted, vague references to violence note: see i was gonna do a few lil scenes but the first one got away from me.... but basically the period of him courting the reader (which full disclosure isnt technically courting bc that should be happening before one proposes but this occurs while theyre engaged bc Gojo Didnt Get That Memo but i digress) is just him being WILDLY inappropriate for cultural standards, everyone silently pitying the reader, and the reader having a whole ton of conflicting emotions but ultimately rlly liking it 😭😭😭

usurper!gojo tag || masterlist

“they say you’re inhuman, you know.” you’ve finished the flower chain. his eyes don’t stray from your fingers as they nimbly connect the two ends and tie them together with a final stem into a thick circlet. “they said it a lot that night. they said you were the gods’ fury made mortal.”

he snickers. “how dramatic.”

you lift yourself up onto your thighs, shuffle towards him further and reach out, and he bows his head to let you place your creation upon it. your hand trails down when you let go, drifting over his ear and along his jaw as he lifts his head from its bow to look at you. you certainly mean to pull it away but his hand beats you to it, darting up to keep your palm against his cheek as you settle back down on the backs of your heels.

“i know why they came to that conclusion,” you say. “you terrified me when i saw you.”

“did you think me inhuman?”

you hum, eyes tracing along the band of flowers now gracing his forehead, falling to rest on his hand over yours. “no. never. monstrous, perhaps. odious. but very human.”

Satoru finds you out on the grounds, tucked away at the edge where the manicured gardens give way to rough forest. The weather has been turbulent, but for the first time since the coup there’s enough sun to stand being outside the castle longer than a scant few minutes. You’d said that morning that you planned to venture out, now that early spring flowers were beginning to bloom.

You’re cloaked in heavy furs, layers of skirts and wool protecting you from the cold, all elaborate garments that he’s gifted you. It's adorable (satisfying) to see you dressed up in his presents. He tells you as much when he finds you, delves into the treeline long before you see him so that he can sneak up upon you and whisper it into your ear to make you yelp and jump away.

“You mongrel,” you accuse with wide eyes and a hand on your heart as you work to steady your breathing. “Have you no respect for your future wife?”

“Ah, she admits it readily now? Progress.”

Your face twists as if someone has struck you. He chooses to ignore it and drops to sit sprawled out on the grass, beckoning unabashedly for you to join him on his lap. You won’t relent, he’s well aware, but he’ll have his desires known either way.

“Presumptuous,” you say. He'd die a happy man if you kissed him as many times as you called him that, but in lack of the former he’ll be content with the latter.

“Sit with me, my queen. I've missed you.”

“I am not yet your queen, Satoru,” you correct out of obligation. “You saw me an hour ago, we ate together.”

“Ah, but every moment apart is agony.” Satoru wonders if you know how serious he is beneath the breezy tone. From the way you wrinkle your nose, he doubts it.

“You have a meeting with your advisors now. You should not be out here.”

He pouts. “But you’re out here, and if I have to spend more time with those old fools than you today then I'll throw a tantrum tomorrow.”

You roll your eyes, let out a sigh that sounds long-suffering, but you shift your skirts and ease yourself down to sit gracefully before him with your legs tucked next to you. His threats aren’t empty and you know it.

“Fine.” You look down, as if inspecting the grass, spreading fingers along the blades as you begin to pluck wildflowers. Then you pause and glance up at him. “Remove those… oh, whatever they are. Let me see your eyes unhindered, at least.”

“Anything for my darling bride,” he coos at you, immediately doing as asked. He’d have done so anyway, if only to watch you lose yourself in staring when he reveals his eyes, catching yourself once he blinks and snapping your head back to the ground to busy yourself once more with plucking your blooms.

“How do you see a thing through those,” you grumble lowly, certainly just to break yourself from being flustered. It works too well; Satoru immediately jumps on the chance you’ve given him.

“Would you like to try them?” he asks, but doesn’t wait for a response, mind already conjuring an image of you draped in every golden chain and precious stone gracing his chambers.

He removes them from his face, pulling the chain from around his neck, and swiftly transfers them to yours before you can refuse—tilts your head up to look at him and tugs your hair out of the way with deft fingers, eases the gilded extremities onto your ears and lets the pads of his digits linger on either side of your head before pulling away. Pausing in your work and tilting your head back down to peer at him over the top of the frames, you blink at him owlishly from behind the glass, unused to staring through it. Precious, he thinks, and wishes briefly to kiss you—but he has to be smart about kissing you, calculating. Too much attention too fast and you have a tendency to pull away from him like the ebbing tide. It's agony for him, wanting nothing more than to hold you as much as he wishes, but as much as he wants there’s very little he hates more than when you tense under his touch and turn away from him.

“They suit you better,” he tells you, because they do. You look good adorned with jewelry of his design. “You oughtn’t wear them in public, though, or all the courtiers will be scrambling to get themselves a pair. Just for me, I suppose.”

Your nose wrinkles at the mention of your newfound influence, eyes darting to the side and lower lip pouting, an expression that makes him cast aside all his convoluted schemes to ease you into his affections. He leans down to peck at your lips, kiss away the pout, gone before you can complain. It’s fast enough that you don’t immediately recoil and give him a lecture on decorum, or perhaps you’re simply getting more used to it.

Satoru’s attention doesn’t stray as you return to your work. You’ve gravitated towards flowers with long stems, he realizes; collected them in a pile on your skirts, which you seem to have deemed large enough as you pick a notably long one up and begin to string them together in a chain. You don’t bother removing his glasses either, simply allowing them to slide down to the end of your nose. The golden chain clinks softly with every movement of your head.

He wonders when you learned to make them. You’ve always been so careful about the skills you acquire, but he thinks perhaps your mother might have taught you. Or his aunt, for how much she loves flowers, and for how much of her time as queen (he’s been told anyway) was spent doing such frivolous things as making daisy chains in the gardens. You’re so very meticulous with your actions, every choice carefully constructed. He knows you’ve been doing that less and less around him—perhaps it’s finally sinking in that he cares very little about your actions, that he finds everything you do to be enthralling. More likely you’ve exhausted yourself trying. You’ve certainly exhausted yourself attempting to rein him in, though he’d like to believe you’re beginning to allow yourself to enjoy his antics.

Posterity, he thinks, will paint him as you do—bold, brash, uncaring of tradition, unapologetic in pursuit of a woman far beneath his status. There are a great many reasons you hesitate to marry him, he doesn’t blame you for your doubt. Certainly when he was younger he’d never imagined himself the type of man you’d end up betrothed to; he couldn’t count on his fingers the number of more suitable matches for the both of you in the eyes of society, but whereas in his youth he might silence himself and go along with the whims of his advisors he’s lost all sense of decency now. His close call with death and the coup he’d spent years preparing for had rid him of any desire to compromise, and he stands now in a position where he can certainly refuse the very people who once held sway over him. And you appreciate all of that, he knows it. It’s one of the reasons he adores you so; beneath your veneer of decorum lies not a lady but a queen with desires all too different from those you’ve been forced to portray. He’s always known this, and to an extent he can’t find it within himself to regret the events that have led him to where he is today because if they hadn’t transpired he wouldn’t have you.

Satoru remembers a time in his youth when his mother made a passing mention that she enjoyed a certain hairstyle on young girls—two long braids, tied with ribbons. For months afterward all the upcoming court ladies wore it diligently, yourself included. He found it painful to see on you until he discovered that they made a lovely way to pull your nose from a book and fix your attention onto him, and that he could tug on the ribbons at the ends until they unfurled and he could pocket them to return later by tying them around the necks of one of his hunting dogs and sending it after you.

(If he were the kind of man you’d marry without hesitation he’d feel remorse for his childhood actions. Instead he’s the man you will marry, and he plots how to steal one of your hair ribbons again and return it in the same way. For memory’s sake.)

“They say you’re inhuman, you know.” You’ve finished the flower chain. His eyes don’t stray from your fingers as they nimbly connect the two ends and tie them together with a final stem into a thick circlet. “They said it a lot that night. They said you were the Gods’ fury made mortal.”

He snickers. “How dramatic.”

You lift yourself up onto your thighs, shuffle towards him further and reach out, and he bows his head to let you place your creation upon it. Your hand trails down when you let go, drifting over his ear and along his jaw as he lifts his head from its bow to look at you. You certainly mean to pull it away but his hand beats you to it, darting up to keep your palm against his cheek as you settle back down on the backs of your heels.

“I know why they came to that conclusion,” you say. “You terrified me when I saw you.”

“Did you think me inhuman?”

You hum, eyes tracing along the band of flowers now gracing his forehead, falling to rest on his hand over yours. “No. Never. Monstrous, perhaps. Odious. But very human.”

“You wound me. I might die by your cruelty.”

“Die, then.”

Satoru makes a show of it just for you. Falling back to sprawl on the ground, he gags violently, stabbing at his own heart with an invisible knife and convulsing with his tongue hanging out until you shriek for him to stop, voice filled with giggles. He takes that as a cue to still, to fall limp as if truly dead with eyes fluttering shut—then beckons you closer.

“I need…” he rasps out, barely audible.

You indulge him and do so. “My king?”

“…iss…”

“What?”

“True love’s kiss,” he repeats louder, pursing his lips expectantly. He doesn’t truly think you’ll do it, and you don’t—you lean in like you will, but bypass his lips entirely and bite his cheek instead.

He yelps, just for you, just so you’ll feel accomplished. And so he can see your smile, hear the smugness in your voice as you say, “It’s a miracle, you’ve come back to life.”

But he doesn’t give you weakness for free. No, he snakes his arms around your waist before you can pull back, and uses the grip to all but pull you on top of his lap as he sits up. Perhaps it’s his lack of insistence on you giving him a kiss, or perhaps he’s simply started to break down your walls enough, but whichever it is you don’t protest. Instead you seem to find flaws in the flower crown you’ve gifted him. Your lips purse, hands coming up to fiddle with the blooms. He realizes that he can’t stand a single moment of your attention on anything other than him, even if your fingers are nearly tangled in his hair.

“If I return to court with a crown of flowers made by my lover still on my head, do you suppose they’ll think me less inhuman?”

Your face falls at the suggestion, eyes widening in mortification. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“It's far more comfortable than that heavy gold. And I happen to personally adore the artisan who made it, so—”

“I don't trust you anymore, take it off! You’ve lost the right!” You attempt to remove it, but he reacts with the very reflexes that make him so inhuman, uses that monstrous height to lift his head higher than you can reasonably reach, though it doesn’t stop you from trying.

“It'd be rude of me to refuse a gift, my queen.” Laughing, Satoru holds you back with ease, eager for the excuse to put his hands all over you while you’re too worked up to feel self-conscious.

“Not yet,” you wail. “Not your queen yet, you knave!”

“Mine either way, though,” he replies smugly with a playful tug to the chain you still wear. “Covered in my presents. It’s only fair that I get to display a token you’ve given me, no?”

“No, it is not. You’ve stolen all of my outerwear and replaced it with these, I've no other choice. But you will not return to your advisors displaying that—that childish trifle, I won't allow it, you will not expose to the court that I made such a thing for yo—oh!”

He tackles you to the ground, careful not to even knock the wind out of you, though he steals your breath the moment you’re safe in his arms by pulling you into a kiss to keep you from talking further. He’d intended it to be faster, but his nose crashes into the tinted spectacles still upon your face and he’s filled with such ardor that he can’t help but deepen it.

Your hand slides behind his head, threads through his hair. He feels you snap a single stem between your fingers. The crown comes apart just as he takes a moment to pull away, and the flowers fall to scatter in the grass beneath him, a halo around your head. There’s a little smile on your face, your chest huffs with quiet laughter, and your palm slides down to the base of his hair. You use that hold and your other hand, which has fisted his tunic, to yank him down and connect your lips again.

Above, a cloud passes. Satoru can feel the sun shine warm on his back, hear the wind in the budding trees, smell the bite of melting snow and the petals of your wildflowers, yet there’s nothing that could distract him from the feeling of your kiss. His eyes close, he pushes closer though he hardly needs to with the way you still tug on his shirt. His arm comes up to brace next to your head, just to make sure he’s holding his own weight rather than crushing you, and the other leaves your waist to trail down your thigh and grip beneath your knee, shifting your leg to hook around him. If your mouth weren’t occupied he thinks you’d be lecturing him for such an obscene display in a place where anyone could stumble upon you—so he does well to keep it occupied, refusing to part even as your grip on his tunic loosens and he’s forced to grab your newly freed hand to pin it to the ground with fingers intertwined.

It's the first time you’ve ever kissed him. He already plots how to push you into doing it again when he finally pulls away, eyes locked on your swollen lips.

[woodland-sys]

Okay so full disclosure this is going to be long and a little pointless. I just think questions like this are really fun to overanalyze. Also it's a good opportunity to talk about some stuff that I think is really interesting. Questions like this really highlight how subjective our experiences are, and how fluid language is. Two people can say the same words in the same order and mean two completely different things.

With that said imo it depends on how you define "more". Obviously the total weight and volume of noodles stays the same (assuming you cook them to the same doneness), so if that's how we define "more" then no.

However, I believe it's more complicated than that. Humans are not objective, empirical thinkers. We do not perceive an amount of food to be "more" or "less" based on solely weight or volume. If you've ever sliced an apple then you might have seen this in action. The slices seem like "more" food than the whole apple. When eating apple slices, people tend to take smaller bites. People also tend to prefer a bite of an apple slice to a bite of a whole apple. It takes more bites to eat apple slices and people generally are more satisfied with each bite. Combined with the fact that most people think sliced apples look like more food than whole apples, it makes sense why people perceive it this way. Many people even feel more full after eating the slices than if they ate the apple whole. For me, broken noodles are "more" noodles for similar reasons.

If I break the noodles, it's easier to take smaller bites. Whenever I eat really long noodles my fork ends up with a massive ball of noodle at the end of it and I end up eating more pasta per bite than I would like to. With shorter noodles, I take smaller bites, and therefore more bites. I enjoy the small bites more, and I get to eat more of them. I would call that "more noodle".

Furthermore, small noodles are less frustrating to eat. Large noodles tend to get tangled up with each other and it takes more work and time to get a bite to separate from the knotted mass so I can actually twirl it up and eat it. For me, this detracts from the experience. I would call that "less noodle", because even though I'm eating the same quantity of noodles, the meal is less satisfying. I may even feel less full afterwards because I spent a smaller fraction of the meal actually eating.

Not everybody would perceive it this way though. Somebody who spent their whole life eating long noodles would be able to easily get properly sized bites onto their fork in a reasonable amount of time. Therefore these factors would not affect their experience very much and their answer might be "no".

In conclusion, I do not think there is a universal answer to the question. For some the answer is yes, and for others the answer is no. None of us experiences reality objectively.

[septembersghost]

it’s crazy because i always liked haylor but as time passes by and more songs come out i’m starting to realize that they were or potentially could have been soulmates because the way they write about each other is insane, i know theyre both in a relationship though and are happy (at least taylor is) but idk theyre always on my mind.. that “what if” really kills you😭

you don’t have to answer this but what songs do you think are haylor?! in terms of harry and taylor (including unrelated hs1 songs)

i just wrote you a long response to this and tumblr ate it 😭😫 but i'll try to say it again lol

they both have said they're the happiest they've ever been now, so i am willing to trust and take their word on that, and i truly want and hope that for them!

a friend of mine and i were just talking about this, and how fate isn't a strictly determined thing, that because we have agency, we have the ability to make decisions that alter outcome. no one is "meant" to be something or have specific things happen, there are different paths along the way, and things we can control, and things we can't at all. it's more like fate is lightly playing strings in the background, and you follow a melody. so because of that, there's not only "one" soulmate, but potential for love that people find. it's like that quote from the good place, "if soulmates do exist, they're not found, they're made."

taylor found and made hers with joe, and has sustained it for six years, it's the beauty of why invisible string and mastermind can both exist in tandem. they were drawn together by breathless happenstance, and then she made a plan. it's clear from what she's written that that was right for her life. he quiets the noise for her, gives her a place to be safely held, compliments her mind, loves her for who she is as a real person. we know this from what she's written (and now what they've written together). she deserves that.

that doesn't mean that you never wonder about other situations - it's human nature to ask what-if. it doesn't undermine the devotion of what you have at all. it's why she said one of the things that has kept her up at night in the past is wondering what might have been, that was a theme for the album. obviously, if she's sharing that with us, then she shares far more with her partner, what we have is a tiny little cracked window, where they have an entire life and world (and that's how it should be). doubtless they've talked all these things through, and she knows what's okay to share, what's comfortable for both of them. i've seen people act like, "omg he must be upset that she's still thinking about ____," and it's missing the point. he respects and loves her enough to know she does that through her art as a form of processing and healing, he knows it all! he understands. she wouldn't be able to be this raw and vulnerable had she not worked really hard, singularly and with him and with those close to her in her life, to get here, and that's admirable.

so, phew!, to get me thus to question...? she's looking back on that situation and realizing she never got the answers she fully needed, and she still had some things to express and get off her chest, and it turns out, there was some upset and annoyance there (my friend wrote about this too). she just had to ask the questions, and send them out - like a message in a bottle - into the universe.

this is already long so i'm putting the song list under a cut for you <3

songs!!! anything i say is conjecture and fitting little puzzle pieces together in the way i hear them and the picture they paint, full disclosure i could always be wrong.

taylor: from red, we have message in a bottle and come back, be here. there's also the question of the very first night, and i know most people have decided it's about jg and from an earlier point in time, but hear me out - i have trouble believing she'd refer to that relationship as "children running," when the crux of the whole thing was that she was trying so hard to seem grown up and capable, and was feeling adrift and confused and belittled and hurt because of their age difference and the way that caused him to treat her. "i'd pick you up" seems ill-fitting for him too, there's an innocence to it. there's also, well, the mention of the night at the hotel and the polaroid picture, and i'm not saying that means anything, but if i hear a little bit of harry in it instead, well...i know i'm wrong on this one, okay, let me pretend. this song is so sweet that scarf stealer doesn't deserve it shhhh

as i mentioned on 1989: style, out of the woods, all you had to do was stay, i wish you would, how you get the girl, this love, i know places, wonderland. she gave us context and stories for some (i love that quote about style, "we should've just called it, 'i'm not even sorry'," the grammy museum performance of ootw talking about her anxiety, the story about how he drove past her house at night wanting to go in, the green eyes, the sinking ships, the cheshire cat smile...).

i'm going to link you to another post of zoe's too

i have a couple of stray thoughts about other songs but i feel like i should keep them to myself aksfdkljghkl

from midnights, question...?, of course. i know i mentioned this somewhere else, but there's also the fact that question...? borrows a little cadence from keep driving.

harry...there are so many 1D songs that i'll probably forget, but from my memory - perfect, if i could fly, olivia, stockholm syndrome, where do broken hearts go, happily, there's debate about something great because harry wrote it with jacknife lee and gary lightbody not long after taylor wrote the last time with them, and taylor and harry wrote songs (that have never seen the light of day, it's mentioned here) together at that point.

unreleased, there's half the world away, don't let me go, hunger, already home, without you, lay down...that whole spate of demo songs that leaked back in april.

he gave just a little bit of your heart, i love you, and someday to other artists (ariana, alex & sierra, michael buble)

from HS1: meet me in the hallway, two ghosts, only angel, woman, from the dining table

unreleased from HS1: him (which, question...? directly speaks to this situation), baby honey, complicated freak

(a reviewer of fine line said golden was about taylor because of, "i know you were way too bright for me," and i don't think that was his intent, but it permanently stuck in my mind, thank u rolling stone or whoever u were)

when taylor starts with, "good girl, sad boy," it's no joke. when you listen to all those songs, it was a lot of sad boy season.

like i said, this is only glimpses of the story and guessing in putting them together, but it does give us a lot.

[unknowconcreteflower-art-blog-me]

Why Husker will be the driving force to save Angel Dust; Instagram deep-dive story! Angelhusk explained.

Okay full disclosure Hazbin Hotel is an adult cartoon has dark touchy subject matter so please tread carefully. This goes into shipper territory and I don’t want to get attack in my inbox about this or attacking each other too much shipping wars plus I’m a multi-shipper... But for the sake of this post it’s going to be all fuel Angelhusk (or Huskerdust), yes okay great thank you. This is a continuation of my previous post which was just a prequel to this one. I ended the post saying Husker will be the one to reach out to Angel and helping him. 

First I’ll be breaking down Husker’s first appearance and how his character is.��When Alastor first summons him, he’s very pissed off when he’s pulled from the poker game. And he’s very quick show his anger, without fear despite Alastor being “one of the most powerful demons in Hell”, and does not care. Though this is a very short interaction we know that Husker does not put up with BS, he’s a drinker, and a poker player. How is this important to Angel Dust? Well Angel Dust, often hypes himself up but also tears himself down in the process, emphasizing that during the limo ride after being scolded by Vaggie that “his body is flawless, everybody wants a piece”... and thinks that’s all anybody wants from him. This is Angel’s way of protecting himself; he flirts with them first before they can hurt him, it’s just hidden with his confidence.

In reality he thinks everyone looks down on him, which is why he doesn’t accept help or confine in Charlie (like when he flipped her off )he isn’t taking a pity party. Angel hides his pain with vibrato and at the same time is too prideful to ask for help... he won’t admit when he’s in trouble. I explained this a little more in detail in my previous post why he thinks Charlie and Vaggie look down on him. But with Husker he in the same boat; using his addictions (gambling & drinking) to cope with his problems. Angel will be more incline to gravitate towards Husker and telling him his problems. I say this because it’s the same reason why Angel confines in Cherri, and is close with her. And unlike Charlie who can be naive at time ( don’t get me wrong I still love her), Husker will know when he’s over stepping his boundaries, and when to helping him since he’s going through something similar.

(Charlie wanting to help Angel but doesn’t know how...)

So all of you maybe wondering, how is Husker gonna help Angel dust then if he hides his problems like that. Vivziepop made Husker a poker-player for a reason, he knows how to tell if someone’s bluffing. And it’s already been established that Angel has a terrible poker face... so Angel can’t lie to Husker. This is why he was angry at Angel’s flirting when they first meet because he already sees through his facade, (plus he’s shy about it). He knows that he doesn’t really meant and he’s hiding something. His sense and observation skills are very necessary cause he can spot when Angel’s actually in trouble.

links to official instagrams below to follow the narrative: 

Angel’s instagram/Husker’s instagram/Nifty’s instagram/Sir Pentious’ instagram

This post starts the saga where Angel is waiting to be picked up at the studio. Saying “Waiting at the studio to...Be picked up for some fucking...Food.”, Val is quick comment on this saying “Forgot to pick you,lol.” and takes the chance to make him like an after thought and after Angel asks to be picked up again Val answer back “yeah but we are filming, I already ate.” just to rub it in. But that’s where Huskers intervenes and get Angel something to eat ,  and there’s a key detail here that it’s only Husker that comes to his aid. Now most of the main cast has an Instagram so you’d think they’d help him but they don’t... They all probably think he’s just being cute and sassy totally unaware of the Angel’s situation with Valentino, but we the audience know... (I’ll bring this point back later)

This one post is enough for Husker to be able see that Angel was really in trouble, which is why he goes out of his way to get him something to eat. And I would also like to point out after this post Husker starts following Angel’s instagram liking all his instagram posts. There’s more to this... keep in mind he starts following Angel after his posts about being tired and hungry. He’s not following him just because he has a “little crush” on Angel... he’s doing this because he wants to make sure Angel’s doing okay. He cares about Angel Dust well being and follows him to make sure doesn’t go hungry again. But during this time Angel isn’t aware of this... that Husker doing this out of worrying for Angel. I say this because right after Angel gets Husker tickets to his strip show, as “thank you” for the food. Showing that he trusts Husker but not entirely...

At this point Angel I don’t believe that he sees Husker’s actions as a gustier of genuine kindness towards him. No, he sees Husker as someone who just wants his body and this is just his way of getting towards that goal. Offering his services (or being flirty) is Angel way of not getting attach to someone (like I’ve said before): think of it as “ripping the band-aid quick off before it hurts more...”  it’s so he doesn’t get hurt again like with Valentino. I believe Val also managed manipulated Angel by doing nice things for him at first, like saying nice words or buying him nice gifts as means to just use him for his body (this is a real thing pimps do). And Angel thinks Husk is no different from the other guys who used him, that what everybody wants from him... he might as well give him what he wants. 

Night of the show rolls around and Husker misses it, kitty got too drunk... which we know takes place during the music video of Addict. In which we get another post about backs my statement the cast doesn’t know about Angel’s abuse. Nifty’s posts a pic, of Angel Dust looking sad after his show... saying “Saw Angel earlier, i hope he doesn’t leave the butts there 😅” Nifty wouldn’t have posted this if she knew what was going on. But Husker knows, that Angel’s depressed and feels bad about missing the show commenting “Oh fuck is that what I missed. Aw shit.” Feeling very guilty about missing Angels, usually Husk tends to hide his feelings but in this moment is very honest. Meaning he really did want to go to the show, not only that but realizes that Angel is actually upset. And he didn’t have to post this comment on Angel’s instagram but he had to he wanted to show that he was remorseful for not coming showing he is attracted to Angel Dust. 

This picks up to with a post with Husker saying “Ugh... Since I missed the show, @angie_fluffy_bootz is sayin I owe him one and is making me watch his fuckin pig... I ain’t a fuckin babysitter!” in which babysits Fat Nuggets, which means he went out of his way to say “ what can I do to make it up to you”, and the conversation after it is a major turning point in the relationship for them. In the comment section Husker complains that Fat Nuggets ate all the food at the bar and says he wants to be payed back. Angel’s offer to pay him pay with a “private show”, in the only way thing he thinks Husker wants (I mean that all anybody ever wants from him). He does this with his usually flirty response, but it’s very different (this is a cut version of the convo.):

Angel: “tell ya what I’ll pay ya back with another private show”

Husker: “...I’m not doing that.

Angel: that or nothing babe. I think it’s a good deal.

Husker:“Jesus fucking Christ...” 

Angel: Ugh. Fine I’ll quit it. Only if you join me for shakes.

Husker: Yeah okay I think I can do that. 

This is major turning point in their relationship; this conversation is very important. Like I said before this is just his way of ripping the band-aid but there’s a reason why he’s really pushing it this time. It’s because Angel knows that he’s starting to catching feelings for Husker. And he’s not sure if Husker wants his body or if really means it. And the matter of the situation is Husker’s feeling the same way. When Husker says “Jesus fucking Christ...” it’s his way of saying “For the last time I don’t want your body, I’m not playing this game”... Here’s the thing Husker believes he’s proven enough that he doesn’t see Angel as a sex object, he’s more tried of the facade than he is annoyed. He doesn’t want Angel Dust to be a “fuck buddy” to him...

And this is a major turning point in their relationship, Angel finally understands that Husker just wants to be there for him. This is why he offers to go out with shakes with him, and of course Husker denies it and says “it’s not a date...”, but we know Husker is happy, because he’s willing accept this as being payed back for the food fat nuggets are, to him this was enough. Needless to say to say it was very cute and I loved it. Not only that but Husker becomes more active on Instagram and low-key tries to flirt back to Angel in his own grumpy cat way. 

Try and tell me they aren’t flirting with each other!

A week after their date Angel Dust does a instagram post showing off his new outfit he got and Husker is quick to ask “why so many zippers”, he’s still too nervous to flirt directly Angel Dust responses with “More to pull down, respond...” Huskers clueless and responses with a “eh” still likes it anyway (the feelings are mutual now). And within the same week Husker posts his own selfie“ Wanted to wear a tie for once. 🥃”, posting one because of Angel. And this isn’t for nothing the pics clearly mirror each other (no pun intended). Just-wanted-to-wear-a-tie-for-once-my-foot ..he clearly did this to impress Angel with him asking “If he needs help with that tie...”, with Husker still being oblivious with the sexual reference but kitty’s still trying. 

This to me highlights why Angel is good for Husker (and vice-versa)... During his first appearance he comments “I lost the ability to love years ago...” and drinks down his booze. Which alludes to why he drinks because he feels lonely. Angel makes him active thus eliminating his reason to drink, as we can see through Husk trying things he hasn’t done before like wearing nice clothes. Now he didn’t have to but Husker pushed himself to be better. As for Angel it gives him a genuine romantic relationship that is centered by an emotional connection and not physically. Husker prioritizes Angels feelings and well-being first.

And for those of you that are confused with Huskers grumpy tendencies. In an interview Viviziepop has said about him is that he is a tsundere. Now a tsundere, it is a character the initially appearing as cold and hostile only to hide their true feelings. This is a troupe used  many times in animes (but if you are not familiar with the term or need an example of one Helga from Hey Arnold is a prime example of one).  His actions disregard his attitude towards Angel... Most of his grumpy responses to Angel are to hide his feelings for him and never used to cut down or degrade Angel Dust (like Val does). I will even argue that Husker is the total opposite of Valentino; Val uses flashiness and with sweet words to hide his heinous and vile intentions. While Husker seems hotheaded and temperamental initially his actions show he’s actually a very kind and caring individual and Angel defiantly sees that...

HUSKER MADE THE WALL!

Angel is special to Husker and he feels the same way... Now and is upper there with Fat Nuggets and Cherri Bomb. And of course Husker is embarrassed, realizing his pics there too saying “what the fuck!” but we know he’s happy. At this post we can assume that Husker is just as important to him as Cherri & Fat Nuggets is to him... and vice-versa. Which is why I believe that Husker will be the one Angel reaches out to first for help within the Hazbin Hotel. And I know some of you may not be convinced, that it’s just platonic or think that Husker just sees him as a friend, but as we know Husker is not a man of words... but a man of action! 

There is a key detail in this story that I’ve been keeping under-warps up until now, (and the reason why it took me so long to because once I found it piece of info; I had to change my original plans for this post). 

Remember how I said that the rest of the cast doesn’t know what’s going on with Val... and that Husker’s observation skills were going to be integral in helping save Angel. Well around the same time as the PJ pic... on Sir Pentious’ instagram he posts a pic of himself trying to make his minions look like Valentino and Vox: I wasn’t even trying to find this but low and behold guess who pops up in the comment section...

Now what does this post say to you. (Husker also liked the post too)

Now repeat after me...“You don’t hear shit about people unless you go looking for it.” ... HUSKER KNOWS!  My theory is that he’s been suspecting that there was something up with Val, ever since the pick-up post, so he’s been keep tabs on instagram Angel to make sure he was safe. And as time went on Angel became more precious to him and became more worried about him. And Husker not wanting to overstep his bounds by asking Angel directly, (because it’s none of his business but still super worried) so he goes around digging info on Valentino. SO then he probably knows that he abuses his workers.  

(Or Angel told him whats happening... I’m leaning towards that Husker did his own digging because narratively it would be too soon and we wouldn’t have a story to tell and would have told Charlie and the rest of the crew too already... Either way..)

Val sent him this, scumbag! And it only takes Husker seconds to defend him and makes sure Angel knows he’s not fat. (most recent post)

Husker has knows, he’s actively been looking into Valentino and the shit he’s done, because he wants to protect Angel Dust! And it’s evident now, he has been defending him on Instagram as well, now being in the know, Husker defending his boy! He is not afraid of Valentino and is not putting up with his BS for putting down Angel anymore... our boy Husker is watching you rat-man.

He maybe the only one who knows that Valentino is abusing Angel (or catching on to it). Which will lead Angel coming clean about how Valentino raped him... And at this point Angel trusts Husker so much that he maybe willing to listen to him when he says “Hey you need to tell someone” or “you need help” and Husker already knows Angel well enough to know how to help him without having Angel push him away. 

AND THAT is why I believe he will be the major driving force in saving Angel from the RAT-MAN (Val)... And we know Husker isn’t afraid of overlords; he’s gonna protect his boy. He is proven time and time again that he loves and cares for Angel Dust so much... and oh I’m gushing now.

AND LOOK HOW CUTE THEY ARE! I just want them to be happy, I want the best for our bois!

Thank you and I hope you all enjoyed the post (and please no shipping war in the comment section I don’t condone it whether you support it or not! Not fighting in the fandom)

[geekgirles]

Full Disclosure

“I’m sorry for the way I used to act towards you when we were fourteen,” she admitted before softly adding, “especially when you and Danny were beginning to connect.”

Or

In which Sam and Valerie clear the air between them.

Word count: 5176

READ ON AO3

Before we go in, I just wanted to say that I hope I did the characters justice. Really, it’s all I ask because I’m still fairly recent in the fandom (as in, actively participating rather than fangirling on my own) and I’d hate to make a travesty of characters that mean so much to me. Oh, and this one-shot can take place in whatever timeline you want: you hate PP with a passion? Don’t worry, it didn’t happen. You actually think it’s a good finale? That works too. There shouldn’t be anything that indicates this story takes place in anywhere in particular other than Amity Park, so... All you need to know is that Valerie knows.

Please, enjoy!!

As an intense throb manifested itself in her right side, eliciting an involuntary groan to escape her throat, Sam was more frustrated at herself than aching from the hit. It had been two years already since Danny had the accident that gave him his powers, consequently beginning the constant battles against ghosts that made their teenaged life significantly harder, and, as they came to appreciate their lifestyle, significantly more interesting, too. Once Danny gained his ghost powers, she and Tucker took it to themselves to make sure their friend was always supported and aided when fighting his ghostly adversaries.

And with that came the injuries. 

They certainly didn’t get hurt as often or as gravely as Danny, since he was usually the one facing the mischievous spirits head-on, but they still had to get used to their own fair share of beatings. The teachers were understandably surprised when they effortlessly completed their first aid training in Health class. 

All in all, Sam was used to getting hurt. 

Which made the fact that Valerie had landed such a perfect kick that it literally left her breathless all the more humiliating.

Valerie Gray, a.k.a. the Red Huntress. Danny Phantom’s longtime pursuer and Danny Fenton’s one time girlfriend. The once popular girl was now their trustworthy ally. And, as much as Sam hated to admit it, she was thoroughly kicking her butt. Perhaps she should have expected as much from a ninth degree black belt. 

“Had enough, Manson?” Valerie taunted with a raised eyebrow. 

Getting up slowly, Sam sent her a smirk alongside a challenging, determined look. “Never.” And with that she leaped on the ghost huntress, using her momentum to connect a punch to her face. But Valerie was faster, blocking the Goth girl’s attack with her forearm before sliding her leg under Sam’s to make her lose her balance. Seeing what her opponent was up to, the violet-eyed girl quickly got out of her way, widening the space between the two to give herself some time to think up a new strategy. 

Smirking at Sam’s maneuver, Valerie appraised her with pride. “Not bad, Sam,” she said before changing her stance, ready to pounce, “but the extra space won’t save you from this.” Leaping into the air, the Red Huntress didn’t waste a moment to knock Sam to the floor with a roundhouse kick boosted by her movements. 

Even if the Goth blocked the attack by keeping her palms up in front of her face, the sheer force behind it was still enough to knock her down. That was gonna bruise in the morning, she was sure of it. Glancing up she noticed Valerie looking down at her with a smug look on her face and her hands on her hips. Sam barely resisted the urge to scowl darkly at her. Panting, she conceded, “Alright, alright. Maybe now I’ve had enough.” 

Chuckling at Sam’s proud nature, the green-eyed girl bent down slightly to offer her friend a hand and lift her up from the floor. Once Sam was at her eye-level, she looked down on her watch, now serving as a chronometre. “Five minutes. That’s a full round! Congratulations, Sam. So far, you’re the one who’s lasted the most against me.” She applauded her, but her face betrayed her. She was about to burst out laughing. 

Snorting, the Goth girl elbowed her slightly on the arm. “Knock it off! Even if I lost, I still managed to land a few hits myself.”

“Yeah...Trust me, you don’t have to remind me.” Valerie complained with a pointed look as she rubbed her lower back. Early on in the match, Sam kneed her there. Thank goodness she wasn’t tasked with unloading the Nasty Burger’s products that week. “I’m serious, though. Danny without his powers lasts a minute and a half, tops. And Tucker...well, let’s just say that taking one hit without passing out is already a victory when it comes to him.” 

“Yeah, he and Danny really should do more exercise.” The two girls laughed at that. These past two years Danny’s skill when using his powers had skyrocketed. Enemies that used to give him a hard time were now more of a headache. He didn’t even have to pay attention to the fight to get rid of the Ghost Box. Now, as Danny Fenton… He’d gotten taller, that was for sure. But he still had the nasty habit of relying on his powers a little too much, which didn’t do his P.E marks any favours. And Tucker was still far more interested in whatever his PDA had to offer than the wonders of physical exercise. 

In truth, everyone had changed during that time, if only a little. 

Sam was still as Goth and ultra-recyclo-vegetarian as always. Her raven hair was slightly longer, now reaching her shoulders, but she still wore it mostly loose and framing her face, except for the one strand she kept in a high ponytail. Her fashion sense hadn’t changed much either. She wore a black crop top with Danny’s logo on it instead of the old purple ovalーthe town began selling merchandise of its hero to attract, and basically rob, tourists. Since she created the logo herself, she made her own outfits and nobody was none the wiser. She also stuck with plaid skirts, but this time she favoured a purple and black one instead of her old black and green. But her combat boots, accessories, and make-up were sacred. Everybody knew impending doom was near if Sam ever changed even the tiniest detail in her appearance when it came to that. 

She was still outspoken and an avid defender of animal rights, individuality, and most importantly, of Danny Phantom. Even though most people celebrated the boy and thanked him for his services, there were still some who criticised him and believed Amity Park was better off before him. Needless to say, Sam was always at the front of the line in any protest to defend Amity Park’s greatest protector. The fact that he was not only one of her best friends but also her boyfriend may have something to do with it. But even if they weren’t together, Sam knew Danny. She’d always known him. She would always defend him from those who couldn’t even begin to grasp just how noble, responsible, and compassionate he was.

The corners of her mouth curled up slightly when she remembered she’d just been sparring with what once was one of Danny Phantom’s greatest detractors. 

In a way, Valerie had probably changed the most out of everyone she knew while simultaneously not changing anything at all. 

In terms of appearance, just like Sam, she’d only modified her look slightly. She cut her long, dark brown curls so they now barely reached her shoulders instead of cascading down her back. According to her, long hair just got in the way with her suit. She originally wanted to get an undercut, but her dad almost had a cow so they compromised with short hair for now and leaving the undercut for when she was a little older. The huntress still favoured spaghetti-strapped yellow t-shirts, but now she completed her outfit with dark blue jeans or shorts (depending on the temperature) and white sneakers. She also dropped the headband due to her hair, but she kept the earrings. 

The most obvious change, though, was that she was now an ally rather than an enemy after Danny Phantom’s head. Sam feared for the worst when Valerie found out her ex boyfriend was the very same ghost she’d vowed to destroy (could she really say she and Danny were exes, though? Sure, they went on a few dates and they genuinely liked each other, but Valerie pseudo-broke up with him right when he was about to ask her to make things official... Ugh, the wonders of the teenaged heart... Always bound to give her a headache. This is why she preferred her Goth indifference...most of the time). As much as they wanted to trust Valerie was going to be sensible about it, her track record wasn’t the best, forcing them to keep an eye out in case she decided to send her more positive opinion of Danny Fenton to Hell and shoot him with her ecto-bazooka. 

Thankfully, one day Valerie just sat down with them at lunch, and when Danny tentatively asked her if they were okay, she just smiled and said, “We’re okay.” So they ate lunch in peace...until the Lunch Lady showed up and they had to send her back to the Ghost Zone. At least that time the Red Huntress was there to help them out. Ever since then, the girl sometimes fought alongside them, but for the most part she did her own thing. 

And that was something about Valerie that hadn’t changed; her hatred of ghosts. Valerie was still hellbent on getting rid of all the spirits that haunted Amity Park, with half-ghosts being the sole exception ーexcept for Vlad, Valerie held a huge grudge against him for having used her as his pawn; not like the team could complain, they all hated Vlad, after all. And that made her ruthless, determined, brutal… More than once Danny had tried talking her out of her grudge against the paranormal, explaining to her that, albeit not as numerous as the troublemaking ghosts, there were still some that just wanted to be left alone. But Valerie would not budge. She believed all ghosts lacked the humanity and self-control necessary to resist whatever crazy obsession that tied them to our world and would eventually attack. 

To Valerie, ghosts were ticking bombs. 

Seeing as, so far, most ghosts they faced were malicious or seriously causing trouble, Tucker suggested they just let her be, but the moment she actually targeted an innocent ghost (say, Wulf), then they would have to get serious with her. 

All in all, Valerie was their friend. A friend who had agreed to help her train so Danny wouldn’t have to worry so much about her safety when they were out fighting spectres. Not like he really needed to worry, she could take care of herself, but the more prepared they were, the better. And Valerie was helping her with that, and yet, the air still hadn’t been completely cleared between them. 

As much as Sam would’ve loved cutting to the chase, a part of her still wasn’t prepared to address the elephant in the room. “Not gonna lie, Valerie, I wiー” she stopped mid-sentence. The last thing they needed was to have Desirée roaming free around Amity Park just because she hadn’t been careful with her words. Clearing her throat, she went on. “I mean, I would do anything for your fighting skills. You must have every ghost shaking in their boots...or whatever they have to shake in.”

As Sam sat down on the floor of her family’s private gym, which Valerie still couldn’t get used to being in, the green-eyed girl made her way to the other side of the room far away from  the training tatami, where a middle-sized fridge was located. Pulling the door open, she grabbed two water bottles before going back to Sam. “Yeah, what can I say? I am pretty awesome.”

“And don’t forget modest.” Sam replied sarcastically. 

“Girl, when you’re as good as me, you don’t need to pretend to be modest.” She joked as she handed Sam her own water bottle, which she accepted gratefully, before sitting down on the floor next to her. “Believe it or not, though, I became a ninth degree black belt long before I started hunting ghosts.” She looked at the floor, a pensive look on her face, “...we couldn’t have afforded the classes otherwise.”

Sam did her best to suppress the urge to do a spit-take at her words. Valerie almost never brought her financial situation up. The most she used to do was remember Danny why she hated him back when she still was after him, but the topic was dropped altogether once the secret was out. Looking around her ridiculously lavish house, Sam felt like facepalming herself. How could she have been so insensitive as to remind Valerie of the life she lost?! 

“Valerie...I-I’m sorry. I should’ve told you to meet up at the park to train, but I…”

“Sam, don’t.” The huntress cut her off with a stern tone. “Don’t apologise. You have nothing to apologise for.”

“But it was insensitive of me toー” Again, she was interrupted by Valerie, who silenced her by raising her palm up in front of her.

“Please, let me talk. You don’t have to apologise for anything because you’ve done nothing wrong. I’ll admit, it’s a bit paradoxical finding out that while I was mourning my losses you’d been hiding the fact that you’re stinking rich all along. But I’m not offended by it. Actually, I think I understand.”

“You do?” The Goth girl asked in disbelief, her eyes wide open. 

The African-American girl just shrugged. “I think so. I didn’t realise it until my so-called friends kicked me out of the group, but having money attracts a lot of fakes and shallow people. People who’ll only be there when it’s convenient for them and who’ll throw you away like a used tissue the moment you have nothing else to offer. I know that better than anyone…” When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she looked up to see Sam smiling kindly at her, doing her best to get out of her comfort zone and offer her some comfort. She returned the smile. “Bottom line: you want real friends, so you never talk about your money ‘cause you don’t want to attract the wrong people. I get it.”

“You really do.”

“And I guess I’m also flattered.”

Sam blinked slowly at her. “Wow, Valerie. It usually takes a lot to take me by surpriseーwith the ghost fighting and allーand yet, here we are!” 

The huntress just chuckled softly in response. “What I mean is that I understand that it takes you a lot to let people inーand quite literally tooーbut you still invited me. That means you must trust me, if only a bit.”

Sam couldn’t help but blush at her earnest words. It was true, wasn’t it? She trusted Valerie. She would have never invited her to her house if she didn’t. And, now that she thought about it, Valerie had to trust her too if she was willing to show her vulnerable side to her. Somehow, the thought made her smile. Knowing she would have to bring up uncomfortable topics soon, the violet-eyed girl decided to alleviate some of the tension first. “Well, I’m glad you could at least get your black belt first! Otherwise we would be in for a major asskicking from some ghosts.”

That comment actually made Valerie laugh. “Oh, hush, you flatterer! Or I’ll tell Danny his girlfriend has been hitting on me.” She could only snort when Sam gasped in fake shock. “Seriously, though. I personally would love to be as genre savvy as you are. I mean, you always know what to do or have some obscure knowledge about whatever we’re facing. From the Fright Knight’s legend to how to train your dragon ghost.”

Sam merely shrugged with a lazy grin on her face, “What can I say? Obscure knowledge sort of comes with being a Goth.”

The two girls started snickering after that. As their laughter died down, Valerie noticed Sam’s smile fading from the corner of her eye, concerning her. “Sam? Is everything okay?”

“Valerie...I’m sorry.” 

That took her by surprise. After a few seconds of shock, the Red Huntress rolled her eyes good-naturedly before gently nudging her friend with her shoulder. “C’mon, Sam. I told you already. You don’t have to feel sorry for inviting meー.”

This time it was Sam who cut her off. She shook her head. “No. No, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’m sorry for the way I used to act towards you when we were fourteen,” she admitted before softly adding, “especially when you and Danny were beginning to connect.”

One would think that a semi-professional ghost huntress would have seen it all, and honestly, so did Valerie, but she was genuinely shocked at Sam’s apology. The shock didn't last long, though. “Are you seriously apologising for that? Sam, that was two years ago!”

Of all the things she could be apologising for...She just had to pick that one, didn’t she?

Sam groaned, frustrated and clenching her gym shorts with her hands. “I know it’s been two years, but that doesn’t change that I wasn’t the most pleasant person in the world to you for reasons that weren’t...completely pure.”

“So what?” Valerie insisted. “Neither was I for the longest time! You and Tucker were right when you called me out during Pariah Dark’s attack; how could I expect to be treated like one of the group when I used to be such a brat to you? You still eventually forgave me.” She pointed out.

“You don’t understand…” Sam whined as she rubbed her face with her hands. “While it’s true that part of my animosity towards you came from how you used to treat us, and another good chunk came from your eagerness to vaporise one of my best friends,” the Red Huntress actually had the decency to blush embarrassedly at that, “I really, really disliked you because I was...well, I was jealous. Plain and simple.” 

There. She’d said it. After years gritting her teeth and burning with envy whenever Danny and Tucker (mostly because of Danny, obviously) drooled over Paulina or any other pretty girl, she had finally admitted she was mostly jealous instead of simply not understanding what the fuss was about. Hanging out with girls more often, namely Valerie and Jazz, instead of only spending her time with the guys had really helped broaden her horizons. Especially when it came to her opinion on other girls. She was proud to say she was finally moving on from her “not like other girls” phase. 

Even if Danny’s crush on Paulina had driven her nuts more than once, it was his budding romance with Valerie that truly pushed all her buttons and caused her deepest insecurities to rear their ugly head. Even if dating her was dangerous, Danny still wanted to be with her! He was willing to throw caution to the wind if it meant they could be a couple. And he was so protective of her when Technus attacked… As much as Sam hated to admit it, as much as she wished (to Hell with Desirée) she could ignore it all and just focus on protecting Danny from being hunted by his new girlfriend, that hurt.

That hurt a lot. 

Albeit annoying, Danny’s crush on Paulina was safe. Paulina only liked Danny Phantom. Danny couldn’t really get closer to her as his alter-ego without putting her in danger, and Danny would never put an innocent person in danger. And just like that, Paulina became unattainable. But Valerie…

Valerie liked Danny Fenton. She and Danny often just wanted to have a normal life, away from ghosts and burdens that no 14-year-old kid should shoulder. Even if the Red Huntress wanted to kill Danny Phantom, Valerie genuinely liked Danny Fenton. Despite the danger, she was closer than Paulina. And despite their close bond, she was closer to Danny than Sam herself. Because Valerie wasn’t afraid to admit her feelings, unlike her. 

In fact, hadn’t Valerie put her job before her love life, Sam knew without an ounce of a doubt that she and Danny would still be together. Because she had been too afraid to tell Danny how much he meant to her sooner. 

Yes, she had been jealous of Valerie. 

She had been jealous of the attention she received from Danny. She had been jealous of the fact that they went out on several dates and nothing could embarrass them or ruin their little moment. She was jealous because it would’ve meant things would change. 

But most importantly, she was jealous of Valerie’s guts. 

And she finally confessed it.

...which made what Valerie said next all the more jaw-dropping. 

“Yeah, I know.”

Her jaw hanging low and eyes as wide as saucers, Sam slowly turned her head to look the huntress dead in the eye. “You know?” She asked, completely flabbergasted. 

Valerie snorted. She actually snorted at her question! And while Sam was looking at her with the most comically astonished expression on the face of the planet, Valerie just regarded her with a coy smile. “No offence, Sam, but it was kinda hard to miss. I think only Danny wasn’t aware of it.”

Sam had nothing to say in response to that. 

“Besides, didn’t I tell you before I even started going out with Danny? When you like someone, if you don’t make a move, somebody else will. What did you think I was referring to other than your feelings, chess?”

“That...is true.” The Goth admitted quietly. 

Seeing her usually outspoken friend acting so despondent all of a sudden didn’t sit well with the green-eyed teenager. She sighed, “Look, Sam. I understand that you were...difficult because you were jealous. I can’t deny I once or twice acted petty towards you because I was jealous, myself. But even if I hadn’t decided to just stay friends with Danny, I don’t think we would’ve worked out in the end.”

Not for the first time that day, and she was sure it wouldn't be the last time either, Valerie had taken her completely aback. Furrowing her brow in confusion, Sam insisted, “What are you talking about? You two are the best ghost hunters in Amity Park, you guys would have been the ultimate power couple!”

Leaning back on her elbows, the Red Huntress sent the Goth a smirk, “Ah, but you’re forgetting I would’ve had to know Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom were one and the same first. And I…”, for the first time since their sparring lesson began, Valerie found herself hesitating, “I don’t know how I would’ve taken that.

“Sure, I really, really liked Danny, but I had spent far longer hating his ghost half. Ever since the Cujo-related incidents I blamed him for the turn my life had taken. And even when I was growing fond of Danny Fenton, his actions as Danny Phantom still drove me nuts! I mean, he literally unmasked me right before my dad! He forbade me from ghost hunting until I got that upgrade in my suit. Could I really put all that aside in favour of having a relationship with him?

“That’s why it took me so long to face you guys once I learned the truth; I was trying to make peace with it all. I figured I could learn to forgive Danny, maybe even trust him with my life...but never with my heart again. There were too many imbalances between us for me to be comfortable in a relationship with him...and you guys are honestly better together anyways.” She winked at the ultra-recyclo-vegetarian.

“You really think so?” Sam could feel the heat making its way to her cheeks the moment Valerie nodded at her question. “I-I mean!”, ugh, how she hated stuttering!, “Danny’s always been super important to me...obviously! And we’ve always done our best to be there for each other and have each other’s backs, but there are times when I can’t help but wonder if perhaps we’re just making a mistake and we were better off as friends…” She finished with a defeated sigh. 

At the sensation of an arm wrapped around her shoulders, she turned to look at Valerie. “Sam, trust me. This is no mistake. You’re one of the very few people who understand there’s no difference between Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom; they’re both Danny and you’ve always known that and done your best to show him just that. And unlike Paulina or me, even if you hadn’t known his secret from the beginning, I’m willing to bet my right arm that you would’ve accepted both sides of him equally either way.”

At her words, Sam could only smile warmly, “You really think so?”

Valerie returned her smile. “I know so.”

Still replaying Valerie’s words and organising her own thoughts in her head, Sam turned to face her, one hand resting on her lap and the other on Valerie’s shoulder, “For what it’s worth, I still think that after a, very understandable, initial bump in your relationship, you two could’ve made a great couple too. I meant what I said when I told you that, if Danny liked you, then we would only have to make room for you at our table. I can’t think of any girl I would be willing to do that for but you, Val.”

Valerie almost gasped at Sam’s words, but she recovered rather quickly, “Thank you, Sam. That means a lot coming from you.” Resting her own hand on top of the one on her shoulder, she winked mischievously at her, “And don’t worry; I don’t go around stealing my friends’ boyfriends.”

The Goth girl snorted at that. “Glad to hear that.”

They remained like that for a moment, just enjoying the comfortable silence that had settled between them and their secret understanding. They were friends. They had similarities and differences. But that would never change the respect each felt for the other. 

Finally, getting up from the floor and dusting herself off, Valerie broke the silence, “Come on, there’s still many moves I haven’t used to kick your butt.” 

Sam smirked at the challenge, “Oh, you’re so on!”

................

The Fentons’ Emergency Ops Centre had, ironically, become their safe haven. 

Whenever they wanted to enjoy some alone time before they had to part ways or a ghost attack took place, they would simply climb up the roof and enter through the door leading to it. Although Danny could just phase or fly them there if they were really pressed for time, which was their usual way of getting there because they were always pressed for time. 

The Ops Centre was really just an excuse to spend some time together, really.

It didn’t matter what they did. Sometimes they would make out because they were a couple and couples made out with each other, didn’t they? Especially when said couple consisted of two hormone-driven teenagers. Maybe if they’d been a pair of octogenarians, the fuss of the relationship would have been elsewhere. Like how incredible it was that they’d survived that long in the first place.

Other times they just talked about nothing and everything at the same time. Sort of like what they usually did, but without Tucker. Sam would often talk about the latest hideous monstrosity their parents had intended she wore ー”Oh, you’re laughing now! But trust me, Undergrowth had much better fashion sense than my parents!”ー, or how rapidly the poles were melting and nobody was doing anything about it, or how her latest poetry reading went ー“Kwan’s getting better, actually. This time he wrote about the new scabs he got during the last game”ー, and how they could defeat the villain of the week who was somehow harder to beat than the previous one because, really, they always got harder to beat. 

And Danny would recall his parents’ latest shenanigans, or Jazz’s newest psychological experiment with ghosts that she was sure was going to work because it was just flawless; or he’d warn her about the food in his house ー”I know you don’t eat meat anyways, but don’t open the fridge. The ecto-weenies are back and this time they’ve brought BBQ sauce.” He would also complain about the workload of homework Mr Lancer had assigned them; sometimes because he didn’t think he’d have the time to finish it all, and sometimes he just didn’t know where to start because what the Heck is irony anyway? Didn’t anyone realise that what they often called irony was actually more of a paradox? How could they be teaching something wrong in English class?! And, sometimes, in those rare moments where Danny finally realised, only to forget his lesson all over again the next day, that he could count on her, Tucker, Jazz, Val ーand his loved ones, damn it!ー and confide his deepest secrets, he would open up about how being Danny Phantom was taking its toll on him. How being famous was more often than not more suffocating than flattering. How he was getting tired that his enemies only ever came back, or became stronger, or multiplied. How he feared, no, how he felt it was never going to end until he was 100% dead and not just 50%... He even still had trouble understanding what truly happened to him the day of the accident. 

And maybe they just would never know. 

And then, there were days like today. Days where they would just stay in silence, watching Amity Park since the makeshift observatory his zany but genius parents had built all on their own. Because, sometimes, watching the sunset in silence with that special someone was just enough. 

While Danny leaned against the railing, Sam was sitting on top of it, enjoying the soft breeze blowing around her and caressing her skin. “Today I trained with Valerie.”

Perking up at the sound of her voice suddenly breaking the silence, Danny turned his head slightly in her direction. “Oh?” He let out, “How did it go?”

“I managed to last a full five minutes and land a few serious hits myself.” She stated proudly. 

The ghost boy whistled appreciatively, “Five full minutes! Now that’s impressive.” He sent her a sly look and a smirk, his admiration turning into amusement, “And how many hits did you cushion?”

Curling her lip in annoyance, Sam muttered, “The fact that I’m even sitting here is a miracle in itself.”

That had Danny snickering like crazy, before a sharp pain in his arm stopped him, “Ow!” 

To his surprise, instead of a smug Sam as he expected, he found his girlfriend gingerly rubbing her arm, a pained expression on her face. “Okay,” she panted, “that was so not worth it.”

“Here, let me help.” Gently resting his fingers on her arm, he used his ice powers to send a chilly sensation across her limb, effectively alleviating the pain. “Anything else I should know about? Did the training turn into a battle to the death?”

“Actually, we talked things out and we finally buried the hatchet.” She said seriously.

Danny furrowed the brow in confusion. “Uh, Sam? I was kidding. And I thought you already did that when she found out the truth about my powers.”

Chuckling softly, Sam could only roll her eyes with a smile on her face as she leaned close to leave a tender kiss on his lips before whispering, “Clueless.”

[writingbeary]

Ice cream Incident

Note: Set around Year 2019

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The members were on VLIVE to hang out with fans before the fan meeting in the afternoon. They all had an icecream of their choice in hand as they share stories with Atiny to pass time. Minyoung, seated beside Jongho and Wooyoung, was so focused on what Hongjoong was saying that she didn't notice Wooyoung take a bit of her ice cream until it was too late. She gasped, looking at her hand with the cone to find it almost gone.

San who noticed what happened across the table laughed while Wooyoung munches on his loot. Minyoung kept quiet and started eating her icecream, suddenly feeling down.

Hongjoong noticed a flood of comments asking about Minyoung as fans saw what happened and the visible change of her mood was apparent even when she is far from the camera.

Hongjoong sighed turning to Wooyoung “Wooyoung-ah, what did you do now?”

“What?” Wooyoung looked around confused

San snickered bearing witness to all that happened. “He took a big bite out of Minyoung's icecream."

Jongho looked at Minyoung noticing her eyes getting teary “Oh no no. No crying. Young-ah... Should we buy another one?” he asked using his sleeve to tap on her lower eyes, as if to wipe the tears threatening to fall.

“Minyoung-ah, here you can have my icecream” Seonghwa offered the cone to the girl hoping it’ll cheer her up while shook her head finishing hers.

Wooyoung finally realizing that Minyoung wasn’t in the mood to play along with him and the severity of the situation he caused panicked, immediately going over to the girl rubbing his hands together begging for forgiveness. “I was kidding. Oh no. Please dont cry. I was just kidding around! Minyoung-ah. Don’t cry please. Oppa would buy you a new one. What do you want? I’ll run to the store and get it for you.”

Yeosang shook his head at his long-time friend as he thought his jokes finally went overboard. “Get her the same one and apologize to her.”

Fans were amused but also concerned why a seemingly harmless joke and a simple situation made Minyoung upset. Some were saying she was overreacting for a joke while others defend her by saying she is still young and something that seems simple to one person might impact another differently.

“It’s okay Wooyoung-oppa. No need to buy a new one.” Minyoung shook her head, blinking the tears in her eyes. Jongho looked at Wooyoung frowning a bit as if scolding the older guy for making Minyoung upset.

“Sorry. Here you can hit me and then I’ll get you new snacks.” Wooyoung turned Minyoung’s chair towards him as he crouched down offering his arm for the girl to hit. “Or...if you want you can have Jongho flick me on the forehead.” he winced a bit at the thought but gaining your forgiveness is his top priority right now. 

The live long forgotten by the members as they watched the scene before them, half amused that Wooyoung would even offer to get hit by Jongho and half curious how Minyoung would react. Minyoung shook her head and hugged Wooyoung instead and patted his arm motioning for him to go back to hi seat. Confused and concerned that the girl is still mad at him, he returned to his seat but kept on glancing at her.

Yunho who was seating beside him said loud enough for Wooyoung to hear him but soft enough to not be caught on the camera “You bad person. If you will be feeling this guilty then why did you do it?” Wooyoung whipped his head to Yunho’s direction to find him grinning teasingly.

“I didn’t know she wasn’t in the mood to joke around. If I knew, I wouldn’t have done it either.” Wooyoung argued back under his breathe

The rest of their live went by fast as everyone changed topics and directed the focus on the fan meeting that is happening later. Minyoung was still oddly quiet, her head leaning against Jongho’s arm while Wooyoung felt bad that he made her upset, wracked his brain on what he’ll do to cheer her up.

As soon they ended broadcast, Wooyoung immediately ran off with one mission in mind: Buy Minyoung snacks she likes and ask for her forgiveness. He wouldn’t consider the mission a success until she smiles and laughs along with him.

The rest of ATEEZ surprised at what happened chuckled before checking on the girl making sure she is doing okay.

“Bun, is everything okay?” Hongjoong approached the girl patting her head lightly.

“Mhm. I didn’t really mean to be upset. It’s just...it just happened.” Minyoung sighed rubbing her hands nervously “Sorry. I kinda ruined the live. I’m really fine though, oppa.” 

Hongjoong smiled reassuring the girl that she didn’t ruin anything “As long as you’re really feeling okay.”

Wooyoung came back with a bunch of strawberry-flavored snacks and just in time before they had to move to the hall where the fan meeting will happen. Minyoung’s seat is in between Wooyoung's and Jongho's so it was easier for him to hand the bag to her. 

“Minyoung-ah~ Here I bought you a lot of snacks. They’re all yours.” Wooyoung placed the bag on her lap, before taking his seat beside her glancing at her reaction. He wasn’t sure if the girl is still upset and he doesn’t want to risk anything by starting a conversation. Minyoung mumbled a thank you before opening the pack of pepero. She wasn’t really upset at Wooyoung anymore. She was more embarrassed that she reacted as she did, and infront of a camera with their fans bearing witness to the scene.

Noticing Wooyoung’s obvious glances, Minyoung giggled poking his cheek and placing a pepero stick on his mouth. “It’s okay oppa. I wasn’t really upset with you anymore.”

Wooyoung’s face lit up upon hearing that as he munched the snack fed to him. “Really? Am I forgiven now?” 

Nodding, Minyoung smiled and was surprised when Wooyoung enveloped her into a tight hug. “Sorry. I won’t do it anymore Minyoungie~” he said in a voice laced with slight aegyo, the girl only laughing and hugging him back

The rest of the members were relieved that the two made up before the event started. They really didn’t want to deal with a desparate Wooyoung trying to gain the attention of Minyoung, in addition to their busy schedule today.

Fans melted when they saw the interaction between Wooyoung and Minyoung, both on the event itself and people who saw clips on the internet. 

Comments:

[+92] Our baby bunny (mintokki) is forever our baby

[+35, -5] So they already made up? I saw the live and I’m reminded of when my sibling and I fight kekeke

[+40, -2] Jongho looked ready to flick Wooyoung when it happened too lol

[+136] Let us protect these precious babies.

[+5] our minyoungie making 7 men panic when she teared up

[+42, -56] another nickname get for MINYOUNG: UlboYoung (crybaby + minyoung)

This incident would forever be remembered by ATEEZ and the fans as the day where Wooyoung continuously clung unto Minyoung being really affectionate with her while the latter just lets out a smile, giggling from time to time. It is also a moment that the members would bring out as an example, calling it icecream incident, whenever they get into a discussion on who Minyoung likes the best among ATEEZ.

────────── ♔ ──────────

ATEEZ Minyoung Masterlist

Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. Any portrayal of real people is a combination based on what we could see on cameras and imagination of the author. This is purely fan fiction written for entertainment. Thank you for understanding.

━━━━━━ʕ ˵• ₒ •˵ ʔ━━━━━━

Writing Beary Corner

Full disclosure. This was going to be a really short post like a drabble or chat type of post at first around less than 500 words then somehow this turned into a 1000+ words post before I knew it. HAHA I also originally wanted to use San as the member who ate the ice cream as this was inspired by their actual live before where Seonghwa just looked to the camera in disbelief when San took a bite out of his ice cream lol

I’ll probably take it slow with the Kingdom updates to avoid spoiling anyone since I tend to write the reactions of the groups for the performance and just adding on to them.

Thank you for reading  ♡

-Mimi

13

[satendou]

⟼  the symbol for love

⟼ the language of flowers | next

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢ pairing: akaashi/reader

⇢ au: florist!akaashi, college!au

⇢ summary:  akaashi’s love language is that of flowers

⇥  masterlist

⇢  warnings: mutual pining, flowers, soft smut

⇢  word count: 8.3k

・‥…━━━━━━━☆☆━━━━━━━…‥・

⇢  a/n: okay full disclosure, this fic only exists bc @keijiskitten​ sent in a picture of akaashi surrounded by flowers at the same time that i was talking about a roommate au. we talked more about it and she suggested confessing via flowers and i went overboard with it. this is another one i’m rather fond of and was written mostly with her in mind. so thank her for the idea!

It started off with heather, hyacinths, and jasmine.

Opening the door to the apartment you had been sharing with one Akaashi Keiji for the last seven months, you were hit with the delicate bouquet of fresh flowers, purple and blue and white, all artfully arranged in a vase on the coffee table. 

“Ah, those are so pretty, Akaashi,” you murmured to the man reading a book on the couch. It was a battered copy of 10,000 Leagues Under the Sea by Jules Verne and he was already halfway through it. The TV played a black and white movie, the volume turned so low you could hear only the soft crackle of sound playing through the speakers. “What are they?”

Occupied with taking off your shoes, you missed the faint pink dust that crept over his cheeks at your praise. By the time you turned back around, it had disappeared. He had closed the book and pulled the vase closer to him, slender fingers pulling three different stems out of the container and laying them across his palm.

“Heather,” he said, handing you the purple flower. “Jasmine.” The white one was handed to you. “And lastly, hyacinths.” The final blue flower was handed over, and you held them to your nose, inhaling deeply. Your eyes fluttered and a soft smile crossed your lips as you looked over them at him.

“And what do these mean?” you asked, a teasing edge to your voice. Akaashi was both a book and flower lover, so you knew that there were meanings behind the bouquet, right down to the number of flowers. “They smell so sweet.”

Akaashi chuckled at that. He always loved your reactions to his arrangements. They were so pure and genuine, like the flowers he handled on a daily basis, and oh so fragile. Over the course of the last few months, he had picked up on your habits and emotions, noting each time you felt anxious you would pick at the skin of your lips and run your fingers through your hair, or how when you were feeling extra tired you would just throw your hair up in a messy bun or a ponytail and go about your business. His favorite by far though was when you were relaxed and at ease-- when your face would soften, your eyes would brighten, and you would look at him with a smile that squeezed his heart.

“They were for a customer today and I just liked the arrangement,” he answered, and the lie tumbled from his lips with such ease that it almost scared him. “But they mean beauty and solitude, love, and playful and sincere.” He pointed out each flower as he spoke its meaning, in the order that he had handed them to you, resisting the urge to graze his fingers across your knuckles.

He caught the flustered glint in your eyes as you stared at them and smiled in response. That was the look he adored and he worked his hardest to bring it out as often as possible, especially lately. Finals were coming up and he had never seen you more stressed and harried, staying out and up late studying or finishing assignments. The bags under your eyes caused him some concern, and he did his best to help you with things, but with a flower shop to run it wasn’t easy.

“Did you have any plans tonight? We could order in, if you want,” he offered, and hoped that the desire was well hidden from his voice. It was the weekend, and usually you spent Friday nights with your friends. That didn’t stop him from asking, though.

“Oh I’m sorry, I have a group project I have to work on,” you answered, and handed back the flowers that were still clasped in your hands. “I only came home to change and then I’m leaving.”

His heart fell, but he managed to keep his face straight. “Oh okay. I’ll see you later?”

“Uh, well I don’t know how late I’ll be, so don’t wait up,” you answered, your face the embodiment of apologetic. You wanted so badly to take him up on it, to get a break from the grueling hours of endless work, but the project needed to be handed in on Monday and no one wanted to be working on it all weekend-- not when there was studying and other assignments to be completed.

He could see the weariness on your face and took your hand in his, feeling his heart stutter when you squeezed back. Giving you a small smile, he said, “You can do this. Just a few more weeks and you’ll have a break. Just hang in there.”

“I know,” you said as you moved away from him, walking down the hall towards your bedroom. “Thank you for supporting me, ‘Kaashi. It means a lot.”

Then you were out of sight, the bedroom door closing with a soft click behind you and Akaashi was left staring at the flowers that spelled out all of the emotions he himself couldn’t express.

--

Two weeks later, you came into the apartment after a day full of nothing but stressful exams and irritable professors. On top of that, your thesis topic had been denied and you were more than a little anxious about trying to find a new one.

As observant as ever, Akaashi picked up on your mood the moment you texted him and frowned, looking at the bouquet he was currently working on. It was massive, standing taller than him and bursting with colors of all sorts. All of them symbolized love, cherishment, and a hope for the future. It was the final order for a wedding but he couldn’t care less about it all of a sudden.

Sending you a short message back, he returned to it, eyebrows now furrowed in concentration over on a different train of thought. Wracking his brain as best he could, he finished the arrangement up and called one of his employees to take it to the back, where it would be loaded up and taken to the venue. 

He helped put up the flowers on display in the coolers and then shooed the others out of the shop, flipping the sign on the door to ‘closed’. Moving into the back of the now empty shop, he pondered the flowers in stock, pinching delicate petals between his fingers as he went over the meanings for each.

Love, good health, solitude, remembrance-- it was easy for him to recall each, and he smiled as he landed on the ones he wanted. With a grace and quickness honed by years of practice, he put a small bouquet together, hoping that this small token would bring you some comfort.

And if that didn’t work, takeout from your favorite place probably would.

--

The door opened two hours after you had first texted Akaashi telling him your bad news. The response you had received had been lackluster, further souring your mood, and you were currently sprawled out on the couch moping with a mug of his tea.

Raising your brow at the way he held his hand behind his back, you took the bag he offered, instantly recognizing your favorite smells wafting from it. Your stomach grumbled, and you offered him a repentant smile because you knew he now knew you had neglected to eat that day.

Instead of saying anything about it, he just frowned before showing you what was behind his back, setting it on the table beside the bag, and your face lit up.

Pink, purple, and white seemed to pop in comparison to the rest of the room, vibrant and fresh, and you reached out, pulling one of each flower from the vase. The food sat forgotten on the table for the time being as you inhaled the blooms’ scents before offering them to him.

“Well, what are they and what do they mean?” you asked, and he chuckled at the enthusiasm written across your face. Over the last few weeks, it had become something of a ritual for him to bring home a few flowers for you, laying them on the coffee table for you to find when you got home from a late night study session or handing them to you as he left for work in the morning. 

It was hard not to appreciate how invested you seemed to be in it, and he tried hard not to read too much into it. That was far easier said than done though, especially when your eyes lit up with wonder and happiness, looking first at the flower and then at him. It was the biggest reason he did it, but it left him feeling empty in some ways, wondering if you would look at him the same way if he didn’t bring them to you.

Still, he wouldn’t stop-- even that little bit of attention meant something to him, so he took the flowers you now offered from your hands and spun the purple one between his slender fingers. 

“Violets mean peace, or in this case relaxation,” he said, and immediately caught the understanding dawning on your face. By the time he explained the meaning behind the peonies-- good fortune or luck-- it had morphed into something so unbearably soft that his insides twisted into knots that would never come undone. 

“And the jasmines mean-- love,” you said, and your expression morphed into confusion as you took them back from him.

“W-Well, in this case they’re just for optimism and good fortune. I guess a different flower would have been better--”

--but any other wouldn’t have meant the same thing.

He cursed himself for being so obvious and swallowed nervously, waiting for your response. In another situation, he might have said the look that flashed across your pensive face was disappointment, but he was sure he was just deluding himself. 

And sure enough, your lips curled up into your usual smile as you thanked him for the flowers, support, and, most importantly, food.

The relief was tempered by disappointment that you accepted his lie so easily before he launched into a lecture about how you should take better care of yourself and threatened to come to the campus and drag you off to lunch himself if he had to. The living room was filled with banter while you ate, suggesting maybe you wouldn’t mind him coming and kidnapping you for lunch if he would take you to your favorite restaurant. Of course he promised he would because that just meant he’d get to spend even more time with you and you didn’t look the least bit unhappy with the development. He tried to ignore the nervous fluttering in his stomach as you planned to meet at the restaurant around one.

That night, you stayed in with him watching old movies that he knew you didn’t like, sharing a blanket thrown across your legs, but he appreciated the way you kept picking them anyway. The flowers were moved to the kitchen counter, illuminated by the overhead light, and more than once he caught you looking at them with a soft, wistful sort of smile.

--

The first lunch date was followed by several more over the coming weeks, whenever the gap in your schedule coincided with his lunch break. Of course, he could take lunch whenever he wanted, being the owner, but Akaashi was nothing if not a courteous boss and chose not to do that to his employees.

Today you were running late, and your order had just arrived when you flung yourself into your seat, out of breath and grinning maniacally. It was the look you usually wore when something had both gone your way and was going to surprise him and it didn’t fail this time either.

“I got a fucking S, ‘Kaashi!” you said, slamming the paper down on the table between you. His eyes widened and you practically glowed at the stunned expression. It made his blue eyes sparkle, and when he looked up at you there was such pride in them that your heart skipped a beat.

“_____, that’s amazing,” he said, picking up the paper to examine it. It was littered with your handwriting, each answer meticulously thought out and he could even see some of his influence in your answers-- certain things worded certain ways or words he had said repeated in ink. There was something about knowing you listened to his advice that closely that made him anxious, and he couldn’t decide if it was in a good way or a bad way. “I’m so proud of you.”

This test had been weighing heavy on you for a month, and most of your focus was on passing it, since it was your worst subject. It was too important to fail, and you had stayed up late into the night working on your problem areas, with Akaashi coming in clutch with advice and explanations-- and coffee-- when you needed it.

A flood of adoration swept through you as you stared at your pretty roommate. He was the picture of calm, a gentle smile on his face as he gazed back at you, grey-blue eyes narrow with what you guessed was contentment.

Suddenly, this felt a lot less platonic than it had originally, and you tucked your hair behind your ear as you cleared your throat. You couldn’t go down that line of thinking, it would only lead to disappointment. No way was this gorgeous man interested in a stressed out, exhausted, anxious mess of a college student and you wouldn’t let yourself get your hopes up. 

“A lot of it was because of you, you know,” you said, schooling your expression into what you hoped was grateful and not at all nervous. He didn’t react other than a widening of his smile and a curious quirk of his eyebrow, so you assumed you had managed it. “I mean it. You explain things so well, it’s easy to understand. And you’re patient, even though you had to explain things to me like a hundred times. I would definitely have failed without you.”

His eyes widened again in surprise, his lips parting as if to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, he looked contemplative, a myriad of emotions swimming through his eyes but you couldn’t pick out any one in particular. At the end though, you thought there might have been something akin to melancholy as he looked down at his yet untouched food, tea long since gone cold.

Before you could ponder that, his expression settled back into the placid calm you were accustomed to and he said, “No, I think you could have done it. You put so much effort into studying, I thought you were going to pass out mid-exam. How many do you have left now?”

The conversation veered off into the rest of your exams and plans for the break in a week’s time-- of which you were unsure, since you had a few offers for vacations and trips-- as you ate.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur of papers, pens, and faces, and you were relieved to finally unlock the door to your apartment. Akaashi had texted you earlier saying he was going to be out late and you had slumped in disappointment, already wondering what you were going to do all alone that night.

But when you opened the door, you perked back up almost immediately.

Sitting on the coffee table was the vase, containing an iris, a yellow rose, and another white jasmine. In it was a note written in perfect, crisp cursive--

‘Blue Iris--faith. Yellow rose-- congratulations. I always knew you could do it, _____.’

For some reason, you couldn’t stop from plucking the jasmine.

--

Finals flew by in what felt like a whirlwind of late nights, coffee, and ink smudges. Every day brought tests, but every evening brought you a new flower and you were running out of space for them. 

Irises, yellow roses, red mums, tiger lilies, and peonies were taking up every ounce of excess space you had and your room smelled like a garden. You couldn’t be happier, either. Akaashi seemed to have a sixth sense for what you needed on any given day and you always looked forward to getting home.

On the final day of your exams there was another round of irises, roses, and jasmines waiting for you, and as you twisted the stem of the white flower between your fingers, you were tempted to ask why this particular flower always found its way into his bouquets. But a bigger part of you didn’t want to know, wanted to let it remain a sweet mystery in case he decided to stop. You knew why you wanted to let it be-- you were afraid that asking would lead to an answer you didn’t want, and the hope you harbored was a pleasant pain.

“So,” Akaashi asked, breaking your pondering, “have you decided what you’re doing for the break?” You were staring far too hard at the fresh white jasmine and jumped when he spoke, making him chuckle. 

You hummed in response, tucking the flower back into the vase on the counter and then looked over to him, perched on the stool beside yours. There was a book, another Jules Verne novel, sitting in front of him, a bookmark hanging out of the top. Resting your head on your arms, you said, “Yeah. A few of my friends decided to go to the beach, so I’m gonna go with them. I’ll be gone for a few days.”

“You don’t sound too happy about that,” he said, mimicking you. The air conditioner clicked on overhead and you shrugged. He tried to ignore the dull throbbing of his heart, wishing he could go with you. But not only had you not invited him, he also had no one to watch the store for him. “Do you not want to go?”

“It isn’t that,” you answered, but it was sort of a lie. You did want to go, to relax and have some fun, and you deserved that. But then why did you feel sad that you were leaving? You already knew, as you and Akaashi stared at each other, that it was him. Even for just a few days, you would miss him terribly, and he wasn’t even yours to miss. Sad, really, how pathetic you felt. “I just...I don’t know. There’s gonna be so many people and it’s gonna be loud and I just want to relax.”

“Then tell them you don’t want to go.” It was selfish, but he couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. It managed to draw a grin out of you, even though you still shook your head.

“I’ve already committed. And besides, it’s only for a few days. Then I’ll come back and not do anything for the next week,” you said, and Akaashi chuckled. 

“Well,” he said as he sat up, and you automatically followed suit, “we should eat so you can pack, since I’m sure you haven’t even started.”

Groaning, you hid your face in your hands, but you couldn’t help the smile. “Don’t call me out. I’ve been doing everything perfectly for the last month, I deserve to slack off a little.”

Akaashi was already scrolling through DoorDash on his phone and laughed again. “Of course you do, but don’t complain to me about it when you’re up at 5am packing.”

“Oh, I will. Because you’ll already be up anyway. I don’t know how you do it,” you said, staring at the flowers once more. You didn’t even bother to ask Akaashi what he was ordering because he knew you like the back of his hand, and whatever he got would be something you liked. 

He hummed in response, placing his order before looking at you. “Wanna watch a movie? Unless you have something else planned?”

But you shook your head and his heart fluttered. 

“Nah, a movie sounds great.”

--

It was only a week, he kept telling himself. And yet he missed you to the point he was almost moping. The apartment still smelled of all the flowers he had filled it with over the last few weeks, but it was fading fast without you to bring new ones home too. He shook his head at his ridiculous train of thought. It wasn’t like you were gone forever, you were still coming home in just a few days.

And he wasn’t sure if it helped that you were constantly blowing up his phone. Pictures and videos of tidepools, fish in the aquarium you had visited, sunsets on the water, and meals with your friends flooded his inbox and he eagerly scanned each one, drinking in your content smile.

But even through a picture, he could see something was missing from it. He knew you too well and looked way too hard not to notice, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. At least until one video in particular of you in what he recognized as a botanical garden-- the high, domed ceiling made of glass and the condensation obscuring his view of the sky, not to mention the plants literally everywhere gave it away. You were staring down at a box full of white flowers, but were too far away for him to recognize them until whoever was holding the camera got closer.

A male voice called out to you, amused and maybe a little condescending if Akaashi had to say so, asking, “Hey, _____, watcha lookin’ at?”

You visibly jumped in the frame and cast your friend a nervous smile before it cleared up, and in that moment the something Akaashi hadn’t seen in any other picture showed up, just before you reached out and grazed one of the dewy white petals.

Jasmine, he thought, at the same time that you said it. Heat rushed from his ears down to his toes and back up as he recognized the adoration and unadulterated happiness in your smile, and not even the camera-wielder’s derisive laugh could quell the feeling.

“You and your plants. Well, what’s this one mean then?”

If you noticed the tone, you didn’t show it, only standing up straight and putting your finger up in the air as if giving him a lesson as you said, “Jasmine stands for optimism, good fortune, and positive energy. And--”

Love, Akaashi thought, once again at the same time you said it, and he had to sit down at the counter as his nerves got the best of him. He couldn’t take it, the way you stared into the camera with a sharp, knowing look, like you were piercing right into his soul. If his game was given away, then so be it, he was going to confess properly instead of hiding behind his flowers.

Your friend laughed again, and this time Akaashi could see the way you flinched and rolled your eyes, walking away as he mocked you.

“Sure, sure. You really believe in that? Sounds corny if you ask me,” he said, voice crackly through the speaker as the sprinklers came on. He cursed and the video quickly cut out afterwards, probably to protect it from water damage.

Akaashi rewatched that video three more times before finally sending you a text telling you he was flattered that you remembered so much of his ramblings. Laughing, he set his phone down and carded his fingers through his hair, hiding his face in his arms as he thought about what he was planning to do and the ramifications. Was there any way he could salvage it if you rejected him? Was it even worth the risk right now?

There was no answer to his anxious questions, so he did what he always did when he needed something to occupy his mind-- he arranged flowers.

A couple of hours later, your phone pinged with a new alert, and you swiped it open absently as you sipped at a pina colada, almost choking on it when the picture loaded.

Pink, white, and blue all mixed together in an explosion of color on what you guessed was his workbench at the shop. It was one of his most elegant bouquets yet, at least as far as you were concerned, and your curiosity was white hot as you texted him.

‘what are they, kaashi? what do they mean?’

You waited impatiently for him to answer, but he never did, not even reading it. You were a flurry of nerves all that night, warring between calling him, texting him, and just leaving it be. So distracted were you that you lost count of how many drinks you’d had, until you and the rest of your friends were so far gone the bartender cut you off and you made your way up to your rooms to pass out.

You had never been happier to be going home than you were that morning, hungover and still without an answer from your roommate.

--

Unfortunately, you made a mistake on the drive home. Still distracted by your anxious energy, you scrolled through your phone, liking and commenting on things absently while you listened to your friends chatter in the backseat.

Suddenly, a hand was on your shoulder and a rough voice was in your ear, asking “Do you want to go, _____?”

Not thinking much of it, you agreed, checking your texts again just to see if he’d even read the few you’d sent-- nothing, and you went from worried to hurt. Why had he sent you that picture and then just ignored you afterwards? He was still active on Twitter and Instagram, so you knew he hadn’t fallen off his step stool at the shop. What was his deal?

Your apartment building came into view at last, and your heart picked up speed. It was the weekend, he should be home at this hour. What was he going to say? Or do? You had never been so nervous to get home-- or go home-- as you were just then, but a hand on your wrist stopped you.

Looking to your friend, Eiji, you found him looking at you expectantly. 

“I’ll wait for you here, alright? Don’t keep me waiting,” he said, and laughed at the puzzled expression on your face. “You forget already, _____? You agreed to a date. But I figured you’d want to change before we went so…”

“Oh, uh, right,” you said, wracking your brain for when the hell you had agreed to that. His question from earlier drifted through your thoughts, and you could have smacked yourself for being so oblivious. It felt rude to just...change your mind right then, so you braced yourself to suffer through the date. Eiji was nice enough, if not a little pretentious. Nothing like Akaashi-- 

But you decided not to go down that path.

Grabbing your bag from the trunk, you raced up the steps to the apartment as fast as you could, missing the lock at least twice with how bad your hands were shaking. Flinging the door open, you startled Akaashi, who was sitting on the couch staring at yet another bouquet of flowers.

You stood staring at him, and him back at you, with wide, nervous eyes, neither of you saying anything for a moment, until--

“Welcome home.”

The irritation that had been building all day simmered over as you realized he had actually been ignoring you for no good reason, and then had the audacity to act like everything was fine.

“Hey.”

He didn’t miss the cool edge to your greeting as you wandered towards your room with your bag, sparing the vase on the table the smallest glance. The door closed behind you and you dropped your bag beside the closet, trying to ignore the anger and hurt flowing through you. Your head was starting to hurt again and you really just wanted to lay down for a nap, but your phone dinged, lighting up with Eiji’s name, asking how much longer you were going to be.

Ignoring the temptation to cancel-- you really didn’t want to be rude-- you hurriedly changed into something more appropriate and combed through your hair. Scrunching your nose, you winced at the sunburn you could feel covering your face, wondering how you had gotten it even with your religious use of sunscreen.

Akaashi was still sitting on the couch, the book he had been reading closed on his lap as he stared at the bouquet on the table. When you came into the living room, he perked up, a nervous smile coming onto his face.

“Hey, I wanted to talk-- Are you going somewhere?” He had just realized you had changed into a new outfit and there was a restless energy in the way you checked your phone. You had just gotten home, but you were already ready to leave again. 

There was irritation on your face as you glanced up from your phone, and he was unable to tell if it was directed at him or whoever was texting you, but it morphed quickly into apologetic as you sighed. “Yeah, sorry. I’ve got a date. I’ll be back in a bit. We can talk then?”

You didn’t sound too happy about that, and Akaashi definitely wasn’t, but his words stuck in his throat. A date. Jealousy bubbled viciously in his stomach, oozing into his heart and up his throat, and he jerked his head once, willing the tide to stem until you had left. It was his own fault, after all, for waiting so long to ask and then ignoring you for a day.

He was such a coward.

Staring at your phone again, you missed the pinched narrowing of his eyes and headed towards the door, waving goodbye before closing it behind you.

--

It was only an hour or two later-- you weren’t totally sure, since you weren’t even sure when you had gotten home and abruptly left again-- that you were dragging your sore feet up the steps to the apartment again. The date had gone horribly wrong, right from the start.

Differences of opinion, differences of interests, his disinterest in listening to you talk about anything you were interested in, it seemed like the two of you just couldn’t sync up to have an actual conversation.

Not to mention how you kept inadvertently comparing him to Akaashi, from the way he spoke to you to the way he spoke of other people, right down to the way he ate, for fuck’s sake. You had it bad, and the date was a terrible idea.

When you stepped into the apartment it was quiet and mostly dark, only the lamp on the side table on, and you wondered if Akaashi had either left or gone to bed.

The vase still sat on the table, illuminated in the soft yellow light, and you recognized red roses, tulips, carnations, and the ever present jasmine. Closing the door behind you with a soft click, you kicked off your shoes before sitting on the couch. As ever, the arrangement was flawless, all the flowers mixed together with perfect balance, and you burst into tears. 

It was too obvious, now that you thought about it.

Almost two months of flowers, at least one everyday, a bouquet for every milestone or when you were feeling down, his strange text yesterday and how he wanted to talk to you today-- you really were an idiot.

And then you get home and tell him you have a date-- it must have felt like a slap to the face, and the sick queasiness in your stomach was no less than you deserved for doing that to him, for being so blind.

As quiet as you tried to be, you must still have made too much noise-- that or he wasn’t asleep in the first place-- because there was a weight on the couch beside you and an arm around your shoulder.

Soft words you couldn’t comprehend were whispered into your ear, that same arm pulling you close into his chest, where it was joined by the other one around your back. The tears continued to fall, wetting his shirt, your fingers wrinkling it where they twisted in, and he held you until you finally quieted.

“What’s going on, _____? Did your date hurt you?” he asked and, now that you were calm enough to listen, you could hear the panic and worry in his words. 

Taking deep, gulping breaths to steady yourself, you shook your head. “No, nothing like that, I-- ‘Kaashi, I’m so sorry. I’m such an idiot. I shouldn’t have agreed to that stupid date, he was such a jerk and all I could think about was you and then I came home and saw the flowers and I realized--”

He shifted against you, petting your hair as you stumbled over your words. He could hear the unshed tears building up again and rushed to soothe you before they could spill over. “Woah, hey, slow down. Why were you thinking of me on your date?”

You paused to look up at him, tan skin and blue eyes backlit by the lamp, face twisted in confusion and you had the insane urge to laugh. He was so beautiful it was unfair, how could he ever want a stressed out mess like you?

“I think I love you, Akaashi,” you whispered, and then dropped your eyes down to his chest, unable to stand the fear of rejection. 

A soft hand cupped your cheek, thumb sliding across your cheekbone before tilting your head up to face him again. 

His nose brushed yours and you swore your heart stopped, a soft noise leaving the back of your throat as he asked, “Can I kiss you?”

Instead of answering, you closed the distance, grazing his lips in what could barely be called a kiss and only left you aching for more. He delivered, slanting his lips across yours, molding them together and your head spun with a mixture of relief and desire. The scent of the flowers on the table mingled with the smell that always came off of him, a heady perfume of hundreds of different flowers that you couldn’t get enough of. It clung to his skin, his clothes, and now you, and you allowed your hands to run over his shoulders and up the back of his neck, threading into the curls at the nape of his neck.

By the time you parted, you had crawled into his lap, knees on either side of his hips, and followed that up with several small kisses afterwards. His hands found their way up your shirt, stroking along your spine and squeezing your side as you rested your forehead against his.

“You’ve been telling me all this time, haven’t you?” you asked, barely a whisper, and he chuckled breathlessly in response.

“Yeah. I guess it was too subtle,” he answered, and then kissed you again. He couldn’t get enough, not after he had waited so long to taste you. His palms smoothed up your back, just beneath the strap of your bra, and you shivered in his hold. “I can show you now, if you want?”

You shivered at the warm promise in his words and nodded. “Please, ‘Kaashi.”

He hummed in response, leading a trail of kisses across your cheek to just beneath your ear. Nimble fingers unclasped your bra beneath your shirt, and then came back down to grip your thighs. With a strength you hadn’t expected, he hoisted you up from the couch, carrying you down the hall and kicking open his door. 

You had been in his room countless times before, but it took on a different view when you were laid on your back on his bed, surrounded by a dark grey blanket with him hovering over you. He was stripping out of his shirt, and you licked your lips at each inch of skin that was exposed. His muscles rippled as he pulled it over his head, revealing his lean chest, flushed as red as his cheeks as he caught you staring.

“What is it?” he asked as he propped himself up over you. He was still standing, your legs hanging off the side of the bed and he nudged them open, slotting himself between your thighs. Your expression was that of a deer in headlights as you looked from his face down to the bulge in his shorts, settled right against the crotch of your jeans. 

“You’re just-- so pretty, Akaashi,” you whispered, trailing the fingers of one hand down his throat and chest, watching the muscles on his stomach jump and flex. Your head was still spinning with all this new information, but you weren’t about to let it overwhelm you. Wrapping your other arm around his neck, you pulled him down for another searing kiss, his lips turning up against yours.

When he pulled back, he was blushing, but there was a steely, mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Not as pretty as you, kitten. I think these clothes need to go. I want to feel you,” he said, tugging your shirt over your head. You sat up to help him and followed that by throwing your bra to the floor beside him, and he groaned. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

Palming your breasts in his hands, he pinched your nipples between his fingers, feeling you shiver beneath him. Your back arched, begging him silently for more, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. You looked so good, sprawled out beneath him, eyes wide and pupils blown out, lips parted in pleasure. His cock ached at the sight, and he gave into the temptation to grind his hips into yours, eliciting a quiet gasp from you.

Fingers wrapped around the hard muscle of his bicep. “Akaashi, please.”

“Keiji. Say it,” he commanded even as his fingers trailed down from your breasts to your stomach. He smiled when you giggled but didn’t prolong it, instead flicking the button of your jeans open. They were tugged roughly down your legs and discarded, and then he was tracing the outside of your panties, watching you squirm.

Your lips parted as he ghosted his fingers over your clit, panties already dampe under his touch. “Kei-ji, touch me, please,” you whined, fingers digging into the blanket.

“Whatever you need, kitten. I’ve got you,” he said, pulling the gusset of your panties aside. You were already so slick, and you moaned when the pads of his fingers rubbed over your folds. The heel of his hand grazed your clit and you were desperate for more. “You’re so beautiful, _____. So wet for me.”

You nodded in agreement, tears of frustration beginning to sting your eyes, and you called his name when he finally sunk one long, slender finger into your tight heat. You clenched around him as his thumb found your clit, pumping in and out of you. A second finger soon joined the first, his heated eyes locked on your slick covering his palm and the way your pussy seemed to suck them back in hungrily. A mess of moans and his name fell from your lips, accentuated by the thrust of your hips as you seeked out more of his touch.

With a groan he sank to his knees, letting his tongue replace his thumb and he swore he’d never tasted anything sweeter on his tongue.

“God, princess, you taste so good,” he groaned against your clit, and you spasmed around him at the sensation. His fingers were long enough that you could feel him toy with your cervix on every thrust, and your toes curled when he grazed over the spongy spot on your walls. “Need you to cum on my fingers, okay? Then I can fill up this pretty pussy.”

You gasped at his words, not expecting anything that filthy from your soft spoken roommate. That coupled with the mental image of him sliding his cock into you drove you right over the precipice of your orgasm.

He moaned, feeling your walls clamp down on his fingers, and his cock twitched.

When he stood up, he drank in the sight of your heaving chest and spread legs, pussy glistening. Arousal and contentment flooded his system, purely happy that he finally had you laying before him as he’d dreamt so many times before, and he let his shorts drop to the floor.

Your jaw dropped as he pumped his shaft a few times, smearing the precum already leaking down his thick shaft. It was a good thing he had prepared you, but the thought of having to stretch to take him was equally tempting. The slick sounds made you squirm, wanting to be filled and stretched. You locked your ankles around his thighs, earning a chuckle.

“Patience, kitten. Slide up the bed,” he said, watching you move backwards until you were laying in the center.

The bed dipped under his weight and he crawled over you, shoving his knees beneath your thighs. Hoisting your legs up to lock around his hips, he let his cock settle against your folds. You shuddered when he slid across your still sensitive clit, whining low in your throat.

“Too sensitive, kitten? Want to stop?” he teased, and laughed at the look of panic that flashed across your face. You shook your head frantically, legs tightening around him, and he soothed you by cupping your cheek. “Me either. I’m gonna make you feel so good, pretty girl.”

There was a promise in his eyes, and you were still trying to connect the Akaashi you knew with this one, the one that was cajoling and teasing and making you ache with a need to be filled with his thick cock.

“Please, Keiji,” you murmured, laying your hand atop his and nuzzling against his palm. “I want you inside me. Wanted you for so long, please don’t tease.”

He smiled in response, guiding himself to your entrance and you moaned as the head of his cock slipped in and you accidentally clenched around him when you thought of having all of him. A hiss filled your ears and he thrust the rest of the way in, your cunt parting around him like it was made for him.

“Goddammit, you’re so tight,” he cursed, trying to control the temptation to rock his hips. You were trembling underneath him, and he braced himself up on his elbows, resting his forehead against yours. “Need you to squeeze around me again, pretty girl. Please*.”

You earned a gasp when you did, his hips jerking down into you, his pubic bone grinding your clit and you mewled his name.

“K-Keiji, a-ah, that feels so good,” you whined, tears pricking your eyes. Your legs tightened around him, keeping him in place as he rocked into you in short, shallow thrusts. 

“Good girl. You feel so good, kitten. So tight and wet. God.” His voice was low and gravelly, eyes shut tight as he fisted the blankets by your head. He kept up that steady pace, pulling out more and more with each thrust until he was pistoning into you. The wet slap of his hips against yours filled the room, mingling with your moans and cries of his name. Each thrust hit every sweet spot, the curls at the base of his cock tickling your clit, driving you quickly towards your end again. Your nails dug into biceps as your hips rose to meet his, and when he opened his eyes he found you staring at him with open love and lust.

His lips crashed against yours, forcing you to swallow the loud groan that he uttered when he slowed and circled his hips, forcing his cock even deeper into your tight cunt. Your back arched, forcing your chest against his, and his fingers tangled in your hair.

“Need you to cum for me, kitten,” he whispered against your lips, repeating that same circling motion. The way he rubbed your clit and ground into your cervix flung you over the edge with a wail of his name. You squeezed so tight around him that his hips jerked and he found himself cumming, painting your insides white, unable to pull away because your legs were still locked around him. “*Shit, goddammit*.”

He let his head fall to the bed beside you, sliding his arms up until he was pressed flush against you. Breathing shakily, you let your hands roam his back, spreading the sweat that had built up. Your hips were starting to hurt and Akaashi noticed them shaking and sat up, pulling out of you so he could put your legs down.

“Akaashi, I--” you started to say, but he cupped your cheek and covered your lips with his thumb, cutting you off.

“It’s still Keiji, pretty girl. And I think we can talk about this in the bath,” he said, helping you up and off the bed.

After the bath was drawn and you were settled comfortably against his chest, drawing random patterns on his skin, he let you speak.

“What’re we gonna do now, Keiji? We already live together, I guess. Nothing’s going to change, right?” you asked, watching drops of water roll down his skin. He was so warm and you found yourself wanting to fall asleep, you were so comfortable.

His soft fingers were trailing up and down your back, his arm resting on the side of the tub, and he hummed thoughtfully before saying, “Well, I’d like to date you, if that’s acceptable. Otherwise  no, I don’t believe anything will change. Other than I’ll fall in love with you even more, _____.”

The back of your neck grew hot at his words and you hid your face behind your hands, fighting the heat that spread all over. Your heart stuttered and you whined even as your eyes stung. That was all you had wanted over the course of the last several months, and now here he was telling you exactly what you wanted to hear. It was an actual dream come true.

Once you had fought the embarrassment back down you turned to look up at him.

It was a fruitless endeavor because the soft, loving gaze you met made it erupt all over again, and you kissed the smirk right off his pretty lips for it.

“I love you, Keiji,” you whispered against his lips, and smiled when you heard the words breathed back. Settling back down, you resumed your doodling, spelling out different things against his slick skin, and then asked, “The flowers in the picture you sent. What were they and why did you send it and then ignore me?”

He chuckled at the petulant tone, the sound pleasant in your ear where it rested over his heart, before answering.

“Well, you had just sent that video of you in the garden and after watching it, I decided I was going to confess when you got home. The flowers just helped ground me.” Guilt flooded you again as you remembered how you had brushed him off when you walked through the door and, as if he could sense it, he wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your hair. “It’s alright, princess. I deserved it after ignoring you. I was just scared to tell you because I couldn’t tell you the meanings behind them without giving myself away.

You relaxed in his hold again, tilting your head up to look at him and were floored all over again. You would surely never get tired of the soft adoration in his beautiful eyes and hoped it would never fade. “So, what were they then?”

“Azalea’s for homesickness, because you took my heart with you. Camellia’s for passion, because that’s how strongly I feel about you. Forget-me-nots for love, so you don’t forget. And jasmine because they’re your favorite, and I love you with my whole being.”

The words were whispered into your hair, the only other sound besides the gentle sloshing of water as he had started to rock you back and forth, fingers cupping your neck to hold you too him, and the tears that had burned earlier welled over as you realized how deeply he meant those words and how deeply he had embedded himself into your heart.

There was no doubt in his mind that the tears spilling down his chest were good, not when they were overlaid with kisses everywhere you could manage, and then you stilled, content to just let him hold you after that. No other words were said until the water grew colder and you shivered.

“We should go to bed. It’s already very late,” he murmured, and helped you to stand. His breath hitched as the water cascaded down your body, feeling arousal build all over again. He ignored it as you toweled off and redressed, snagging his shirt up before he could grab it and slipping it over your head. “You are not helping me to keep my hands off you, kitten,” he growled, grabbing you by the hips and guiding you towards his bedroom.

You let him lead you with no resistance besides pausing to wiggle against him and giggling when he sighed in mock exasperation.

“Maybe I’m not trying to,” you said, sauntering towards the bed.

“If that’s the case,” he answered, pinning you to the mattress. Your legs naturally came up to hook over his hips and his shorts slipped down, exposing his already hard cock. “I guess we aren’t ready for bed yet.”

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