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crescenthistory · 3 days ago
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It's Nice To Have A Friend
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Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader
Synopsis: Remus' childhood best friend is the only person he is comfortable showing unrestrained affection towards – until he one day gets in his own head about it.
Words: 14.4k
Warnings/tags: there are some suggestive remarks, brief references to "shagging" and implied underage drinking, but i would classify it as safe for minors! fem!reader, use of y/n, childhood best friends to lovers (thus you grew up in wales and use welsh terms, but you aren't said to be welsh), you are in ravenclaw (only for one plot point, not personality), platonic physical affection, romantic physical affection, kissing, "it was revealed to me in a dream" trope, some miscommunication trope, deep yearning, remus' pov (meaning loads of self-loathing and overthinking), panic attack-ish, remus cursing like a sailor and joking about jumping, kind of shy/reserved!remus, some angst, happy ending ofc, background jilypad
Note: phew this was intense but sosososo much fun to write. it is very much a fluffy fic tho, don't be worried<3 i fucking love this story/dynamic so much
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It is an ill-kept secret that Remus John Lupin struggles with romantic public displays of affection.
It was something his best friends had teased him relentlessly for since the first time he was given a Valentine Day’s card in year two by a boy that he didn’t even have a crush on mind you, and became a stuttering, spluttering mess. He could still hear James and Sirius’ barks of laughter the second that Hufflepuff was out of view and could still feel the bench shake from when Peter fell off it, clutching his stomach. Remus had been sure his cheeks would be permanently dyed red from the shame.
His one friend who did not betray him in such a manner was his oldest, namely you. Remus’ sweetheart, as Sirius called you, his childhood best friend from back home who he broke the statute of secrecy for when he was too young to realise what that meant, but who thankfully turned out to be a witch too. Something you both wept tears of joy for, as you did not have to be separated when he went off to Hogwarts.
On that horrid day, you only pinched his darkening cheeks and laughed quietly – still teasing, but in a way that felt more like admiring and less like humiliating. He faintly remembers scrunching his nose at you in response, a look you immediately mirrored before you went to hide him in the crook of your neck and gave the others a faux scolding for “embarrassing poor Rem when he is wholly capable of doing so himself”. 
His makeshift pack of friends kept that routine up for the rest of his school years, consisting of James and Sirius poking constant fun, Peter enjoying it all a tad bit too much, and you “protecting” him while laughing all the same. His affliction only worsened throughout his time at Hogwarts, but if one of his afflictions were to be the butt of a joke, he supposed he was grateful it was this one.
In moments like these, it was a tad bit difficult to keep that sentiment up, though.
“You should have seen the look on his face, doll!” Sirius made out through a laugh as the group made their way back from Hogsmeade. 
He was recounting Remus’ dance on the Three Broomsticks dancefloor with one slightly-more-rowdy-than-normal Emmeline Vance who all but dragged him out there despite his quiet sputters. You had been off on some endless errands that Remus had passionately attempted to join you for before Sirius all but bolted him to the bench because “you owe me a round, you mangy wolf”.
“I believe I have seen it many a time, Siri,” you laughed out, yelping slightly when Remus pinched your side from where he had his arm around you. “Hey!” you scolded him half-heartedly, point diminished by your grin.
“Cheeky minx, don’t side with the devil!” Remus conspired with you through a stage-whisper while glaring at Sirius, whose laughter only doubled in intensity.
“You can’t ask me to lie for you, del,” you replied in the same tone of voice, leaning up to kiss his cheek as if to apologise for your treachery. An apology that was wholly accepted as Remus tugged you closer into his side and allowed for the laughter around him to continue with a sigh.
Because therein lies the one exception – Remus Lupin was pathetically incapable of public displays of affection, unless they were with you.
His problem with these displayals was the insinuation behind them and the attention that was brought to him because of it. If Emmeline dances with him, leaving a scandalously little amount of room between them, he knows what she wants from him and everyone else does, too. If his current romantic partner kisses him in the hallway, it is a glimpse into something that otherwise occurs behind closed doors, a reveal of his private life that he does not enjoy. He wants that part hidden, and embarrassment flares through him like a rocket at the thought that others bear witness to it – and then the flames are stoked when they notice that he knows and has enough dignity to be embarrassed, which just fuels an eternal evil cycle.
You, however – your wonderful self he has known all his life, you who refused to ever leave his side despite his lycanthropy and subsequent grumpy, isolationist persona, you who are his absolute better half and light of his life – there was no reason that affection should be hidden. There was nothing secretive nor fragile in your relationship, it was the purest thing he had ever had the pleasure of having.
There was nothing insinuative or blasphemous about it, there was nothing to be held against him. He would hold you, hug you, even kiss your shoulder, cheek and forehead, because he and all else around knew that it meant nothing more. It was nothing out of the norm, nothing for others to point out and bring attention to. There was no glance into something hidden away, there was no line being overstepped. It was just two best friends, aware and proud of how much they meant to one another.
So Remus never had any hesitations about leaning into your touch, about seeking yours out, about lips identifying exposed skin and staying there for a moment or two. It was something he began doing before he truly knew what embarrassment entailed, it was muscle memory as much as instinct these days.
And if others did not understand it fully, that was an issue Remus for once felt no confinement to public opinion on. If people made assumptions or threw glances, it held no importance to him. Even his Marauders, Sirius especially, raised their eyebrows at your proximity when you all first met, but they understood the routine of it all quickly. That these two first years before them were a package deal in every form of the word. It was quickly accepted within your little pack, albeit fondly commented on every now and again. James had Sirius in that same unrestrained way, bodies strewn across each other at any given opportunity, so why couldn’t Remus have you? Why wouldn’t he?
Never mind that Sirius was officially brought into James and Lily's relationship at the end of last term.
“Well, James would hug anything that moved and seemed like it might need it.” Sirius had argued one night many years ago, not needing to add the and I need it.
“And isn’t that lovely for Prongs,” Remus had drawled in return. “But I need a few years to get there, and Y/N happened to be more strategic than you lot.”
“By knowing you first?”
“Precisely. Also, she’s lovelier than you.” 
It had earned him a snort and a pillow to the face, but it was accepted without further questioning. With the exceptions only occurring in a drunken babble here and there from Sirius, alone in their dorm after a party. Remus is quite certain he couldn’t string together a coherent sentence if his life depended on it in those states, and so he never took it to heart.
Remus revelled in having something of his own, someone only he understood on that level, and his heart always warmed when he thought about how lucky he was that that someone was you.
He subconsciously pulled you even closer at that thought, content and comfortable to do so whether that be around his marauders or in front of the whole Great Hall; there was nothing more to it to be embarrassed of. It was just you; just Y/N and Remus. Like always.
“You occluding yourself away from your menace of a dorm mate?” you whispered to him then, and he angled his chin down slightly with a smile to find you looking at him curiously.
“Oh, yeah,” Remus agreed with a solemn nod. “Must prepare for being locked up in a room with him all night. It’s tedious work, you know?”
“Most certainly.” You attempted to match his faux severity, but a giggle escaped you nonetheless – a beautiful one that Remus decided to mentally save for the night, should Sirius become unbearable.
Speaking of; “I take great offence to that,” Sirius proclaimed from the few strides ahead he was, pointing his finger in Remus’ direction without turning around. “Dog-like hearing, Moony, don’t think you can get away with badmouthing me here!”
“Dog-like he says,” Remus whispered to you, earning him an indignant “oi!” as Sirius finally turned around.
“Gorgeous, would you tell your worse half to knock it off?”
“I sure will,” you declared, turning your body more towards Sirius in Remus’ grasp. “Siri, sweetheart, would you knock it off?”
Within the second, Sirius’ offended expression transformed into one of giddiness. “Awe, princess, you think of me as your other half?”
“Worse half, Pads,” James interjected, looking over his shoulder bemusedly.
“Do keep up,” Remus added with a half-hearted glare.
“Irrelevant!” Sirius threw his hands up and spun around in celebration. “I have won the title of her other half, you can get lost Moons.”
Remus used his arm around your shoulders to angle you back away from Sirius. “I think not. I’ve been keeping this friendship for so long, she’ll need a lawyer to get rid of me,” he stated matter-of-factly, looking down at you at the last bit. “Capiche?” He tilted his head at you.
You hummed through a poorly-withheld smile, as if you were considering it. “Sure thing, cariad. Meet with our lawyers tomorrow after lunch?”
Remus gasped as you ripped out of his grasp and stuck your tongue out at him. Flashbacks of your younger days chasing each other down dirt roads came to his mind and widened his grin as he saw you back away from him, eyes trained on his expression. 
“Minx,” he breathed out through a laugh just before you sat off running away from him; Remus hot on your heels, laughter escaping him freely. Sirius began running with you, though he was slowed as he twirled around and hollered, surely waking the entirety of the mountaintops surrounding the castle.
James had been minding his own business for once as he engaged in quiet conversation with Lily and Pandora, but his eyes twinkled as he eyed his three running friends, exchanging a knowing look with the redhead.
“Young love,” Pandora sighed dreamily, though James could never be certain if she was looking at the loud, carefree forms before them or at something entirely different.
Remus saw you stopped running while still some dozens of metres away from the castle, still facing away from him, but arms opening to accommodate for the impending crash of his body against yours. It does something funny to his heart to think about, but he just lets it widen his smile as he did exactly as expected – let his arms loop around your waist and twirl you around as he caught up to you. 
Your out-of-breath giggles permeated into his ears as his face was tucked in between your neck and shoulder as he slowed down, laughter calming in his own chest.
“Caught you,” he whispered through his own breathlessness. “Happy now?”
You turned in his grasp, squeezing at his shoulders both to show affection and seemingly to steady yourself as your chest still heaved; Remus held you tighter to help you in the latter endeavour. “Shook off Sirius for a bit, so yeah, I am. As should you be.”
He dropped his head laughing at that, glancing behind him through his hair to see Sirius bent over, hands on his knees as James had already caught up to him and was patting his back in sympathy. Any other time of the month, Remus would likely have been right there with him, but this was a good week and you always seemed to be able to find some semblance of energy within him, even if he thought he had none.
“I take back my calling you minx, then.” He looked at you with a smile. “That was strategic.”
“Are you saying minxes can’t be strategic, Loopy?” You raised your eyebrows at him teasingly, pulling slightly out of his grasp to breathe better.
“I’m saying– don’t call me Loopy.”
Your smile became almost taunting at that, and Remus knew his comment likely only worsened the likelihood of you using that nickname now. “I just remembered how I used to call you that the other day actually,” you mused, putting on an innocent smile. “I don’t remember why I stopped, I just forgot about it. I think it might be time for a renaissance.” 
“I think I’m too out of breath for you to say things like that. I can’t chase you any further, but that deserves to be chased.”
You shoved lightly at his shoulder at that. “You’re getting too old, you’re no fun.”
“I’m super fun. Textbook definition,” Remus harrumphed, gleaning when you rolled your eyes through a burst of laughter.
“No one who references textbook definitions is fun, Moons!” James called from where the group was catching up to you two, finally within earshot. 
Sirius was practically draped across James’ shoulder, breath still coming heavy. He pointed yet another accusatory finger, this time at you. “You’ll be the death of me, dollface. Merlin’s tits.”
“Don’t blame me for your own inadequacy, gorgeous,” you quipped back. It made Remus rather proud, especially when Sirius groaned dramatically in response.
“Time to get some beauty sleep then, yeah?” James coaxed, giving Sirius’ cheek a peck as he continued effortlessly dragging him in through the entrance of the castle.
Lily hummed in agreement, poking one of her boyfriends in the side. “Yeah, Sirius seems to need it.”
“You think I’m so sexy, Red, don’t lie to yourself,” Sirius mumbled, petulantly remaining worn out over James’ shoulders.
Remus smiled at his friends, hand reaching out behind him blindly, knowing you’d find it. Surely enough, your fingers intertwined with his own and gave him a little tug to hasten his gait down the hallways.
Moving up the staircases with surprisingly little trouble, the group finally found themselves outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, ready to split up with you and Pandora heading to Ravenclaw and the rest clambering inside. 
You made your goodbyes, quick hugs and kisses on cheeks with Lily and James and a kiss to the hand from Sirius who had decided to lay down dramatically on the floor. When you turned to Remus at last, just a tad bit away from the others, he enveloped you in a warm hug, breathing you in as he settled his chin on your shoulder.
“Let me walk you?” he asked, already knowing you would say no.
“Nice try Loopy, but I’d rather you go inside to the warmth and head to bed,” you murmured into his neck. “Thank you, though.”
You always said no. He always asked, anyway. Sometimes, if he was feeling particularly protective or otherwise missed you too much, he’d go with you anyway. Today he decided to respect your wishes.
“Tell me again why you had to be an independent person and get sorted into your own house?” he grumbled against you, smiling when he felt your chest rumbling beneath him. That same smile softened when your grip on him grew just the slightest bit tighter.
“Something tells me you’ll survive.” 
He tightened his hold on you in turn, one arm around your waist and the other stabilising your neck, before he spun your body around twice, twirling along the hallway. He relished in the laughter that escaped you and ensured to stamp a proper kiss to your hair before he released you back down to the floor.
“Sleep well, dove.”
“Goodnight, cariad,” you said through a soft smile, giving him and the others a small wave before turning around to where Pandora was waiting, grabbing her hand as you two all but skipped down the hallway together.
With his eyes still glued on your disappearing form, Remus nearly yelped as James’ hands came up to settle roughly on his shoulders – albeit somewhat careful of his joints – steering him through the now-opened portrait, who was rambling on with complaints about students taking up the space in front of her for too long.
“Funny that,” James started. 
Remus gave him a puzzled look. “What, Prongs?”
“Just that you danced with one Ravenclaw at the Three Broomsticks for two minutes and gained the colour and conversational skills of a tomato; but when you twirl and kiss this Ravenclaw, all you’re left with is that goofy grin of yours.” James’ comment seemed off-handed, said over his shoulder as they walked through the empty common room.
“First of all, it’s Y/N we’re talking about and not some Ravenclaw,” he started, confusion laced in his voice. In the meantime, James and Sirius kissed Lily goodbye, the latter giving her bum a light tap as she moved up the stairs to the girls’ dorms. “Secondly, it’s Y/N. She’s my best friend, and one of yours, mind you. What’s there to go all tomato for?”
“Some would argue, there is never any reason to go all tomato,” Sirius taunted, ducking the smack Remus aimed towards him.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” James laughed, literally waving it off. “Just pointing out the parallel. Ironic, innit?”
“Don’t see why it would be,” Remus grumbled petulantly in return. Sirius reached up to ruffle his hair somewhat roughly before entering their dorm, where Peter was already waiting for them, tucked into bed.
“What’re we laughing about tonight, fellas?” he questioned without looking up from the magazine he was reading through. Remus was fairly certain he had seen Mary reading through that very same magazine last week.
“Oh just at Remus’ peculiarities with birds.” Sirius felt emboldened with his comment from where he was crouched behind his bed – ample distance to protect him from Remus, he surely gathered.
“So, nothing new? Nice.” Peter returned his attention to the magazine it never really left.
“Yeah, don’t worry Pete – your friends are just as big arseholes as on any other day.” Remus bent down to pat the boy on the shoulder before moving over to his own bed, between Peter and Sirius’. 
“Hey, I don’t mean to be an arsehole,” James complained with almost a full pout across his lips within a second of Remus’ comment. “We’re just having a bit of fun psychoanalysing you, s’all.”
“Which, of course, is a generally accepted polite thing to do.” Remus nodded as if he was gravely understanding, only flipping James off when the other boy didn’t catch his sarcasm.
“No, Remmy, what would be rude is to point out how you are desperately–” Sirius began with taunting mirth plastered all over his face, but he was cut off as James all but jumped on him to cover his mouth. 
The black haired boy looked up at his boyfriend first with some offence and then a look Remus didn’t want to witness.
“How about we leave poor Moony alone for the night, huh baby?” James questioned, moving his hand away from Sirius’ mouth as the other boy nodded almost dumbly, still staring up at him.
“Who’s turning red now?” Remus whispered to himself as he looked through his trunk for his pyjamas. He barely had the reflexes to catch the pillow Sirius hurled at him, tossing it back with a loud laugh that was quickly reciprocated by his best mates.
As if a miracle had been awarded them by some forgiving gods, the boys’ dorm room quieted down fairly quickly after that. Sirius and James settled in Sirius’ bed for the night, barely fitting themselves onto the mattress that was almost too small for one boy, let alone two. Once in each other’s arms, however, it was an easy thing to drift off. Peter was asleep before the other three had even brushed their teeth.
Remus was the only one tossing. Not unusual, but he couldn’t really understand why that was tonight. 
His sleep cycle often closely followed the moon’s, and he was almost two weeks away from the full moon, a perfectly decent time for falling and staying asleep. Tonight, though, his body was once more fighting him. He kept replaying the night, the conversations, the interactions, trying to pin his unrest on something. He supposed that dance with Vance had been unexpected and the adrenaline spike of all the attention following it might still linger and make sleep evade him. 
Despite what his dismay for public romantic displays might indicate, Remus was no prude. As a matter of fact, just as Sirius had before he was locked down, Remus was no stranger to making his rounds at the occasional common room party. Rarer was it that he shagged anyone back home, as he spent most of his time with you, but it had happened here and there too. Vance and him had even spent a night together once at a quidditch afterparty, but he had no significant interest in her apart from a mutually understood night of fun. He never really did, even when his partners were great in all capacities. It just didn’t seem that romance was an object for Remus – and good riddance, if the struggles of dealing with it so far was any sign.
Perhaps that was it then, dancing with Vance had rehashed something for him. Though the idea didn’t settle well in his bones, Remus also knew that he would never settle if he didn’t give his mind an excuse for his sudden restlessness.
After checking the time with a hefty sigh, he decided to throw in the towel and took a small sip of a sleeping draught potion he had at the ready in his bedside table at all times. If sleep would not come to him, he would hunt it down damn it. His friends’ playful mockery and a dance he didn’t even want to partake in would not cause him any more torment.
As Remus slipped into the land of dreams, he may come to regret that sentiment, if but a bit.
There are warm bodies pressed uncomfortably close to him – the warmest of which has her arms around his neck, one hand scraping through his hair. It should feel good, Remus enjoys when his hair is played with, but this feels sharp enough to draw blood. Emmeline’s laugh is all he can make out over the chatter and stomping around him, but it feels wrong, scratchy like a record player. Her fingers on him are cold, unlike anything else in the room.
It is spinning. The room, that is. Remus is unfocused, as if he had been shooting vodka and not butterbeer earlier. He can’t quite make out any of his friends, or anyone really, Emmeline’s features bleeding out into the background.
For some reason his heart is pounding the way it does before his transformation. Everything feels painfully wrong and he is aware of every inch of his body where Emmeline is touching him.
She is still laughing and Remus is sure it would make his ears bleed, which only confuses him further because Emmeline is truly a nice girl. Just not one he wants to feel flush against himself at the moment.
He reaches a hand up to touch his ear – realising only now that his arms are hanging limply by his sides, the only static thing in the otherwise spinning room – and when he retracts his hand to look at it, his fingers are coated with blood.
His breathing grows ragged as he feels the blood running down the side of his neck. He has half a mind to tell Emmeline, to shout for help. He doesn’t. Nothing comes out when he tries to open his mouth, all control of his body ripped from his grasp.
With no warning he realises the wetness on his neck is not blood, but someone’s open mouth smearing kisses down it with reckless abandon. His stomach ties in knots and he wants to push Emmeline off of him, still to no avail.
Her grip on him tightens painfully, and Remus swears he feels a bone break. He would know.
The flurry behind her has just become a swirl of colours and sounds to him and Remus feels himself drowning in a moment he desperately wants away from. He shuts his eyes hard, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself.
He feels a warmth in his chest, starkly different from the heat around him, that slowly, like thawing ice, begins to spread throughout him. He hums the melody you sang to him during his first ever panic attack, the sweet one that always lulls him to sleep, and the warmth spreads faster.
With his eyes still screwed shut, Remus begins to regain the feeling in his legs first, noticing them swaying back and forth to some calmer, unknown rhythm.
The feeling in his hand returns too, and it’s clasped around someone else's. Theirs is also warm, light and fits much better in his, though he’s not quite sure what he’s comparing it to.
The front of his body is warmer than the back as he’s pressed up against someone, swaying with them in a slow dance that would never have worked in the middle of Three Broomsticks. It flows with his soul.
At last, Remus can hear again, as if coming up from water. He hears that it was not him humming, but rather a soft figure tucked under his chin, humming the vibrations of the melody against the side of his neck.
When he tightens his arms instinctively, he does not need to open his eyes to know it is you.
He does anyway, looking down at you, standing in his arms, swaying together in an empty Gryffindor common room. There is a lazy smile on your lips as you look up at him, cheek against his chest, eyes twinkling like the starlight.
Remus feels right. Remus feels good. His thoughts are honey, sweet but slow, coating over any coherent reactions he might have to standing here with you like this. He escaped and he is with you and all is right once more.
Have you danced like this before? Did it feel like this then?
You seem unpuzzled, relaxed. The warmth settles in Remus for good.
“Hey handsome,” you whispered, as if you were sharing a secret with him before angling your face more up towards his.
Remus is not in charge of his body when his neck dips down and lets his lips meet yours halfway, casual and expectantly, a habit as much as a wish. You taste like yourself. You smell like yourself. Remus is surrounded by you, cornered by your smile against his lips.
You pull back all too quickly, furrowing your brows at him. Dream-Remus has no hesitation of removing the hand from around your back to thumb at the furrow, brushing away any negative thoughts from you. He kisses the spot between your eyebrows.
Everything is right.
When his eyes meet yours again, the concerned look in them has not changed. You reach a tentative hand up to his cheek, thumb swiping over his cheekbone as you hold him with what he irrevocably knows to be love. 
“It’s time to wake up, cariad,” you said with a small sad smile.
The last thing Remus remembers is the feeling of the floor disappearing beneath him.
Remus sat up with a gasp, and for a rare moment in time he was speechless.
He was not a stranger to invasive, questionable or downright spiritual dreams, a side effect of both his connection with the moon and the tons of potions he has taken over the years. Usually, he is present in his dreams and acts as his own little commentator during and after them, narrating what happens and what he thinks of it.
It was not uncommon for him to think “I think I will remember this one” as the final thought in a dream. Or when he wakes up in tears, his first thought was often “that was a bit dramatic of you, calm down”.
Now, he had nothing. Now, he was speechless.
Worse yet, usually when he wakes up with a jolt, it is in the middle of the night – but now, as his senses began to trickle back in, he could hear the commotion around him that only could mean the boys are at various stages in the process of getting ready.
Remus Lupin had just had a life-altering, earth-shattering dream, and James Fleamont Potter was repeatedly knocking his knee into his nightstand as he jumped around while tying his shoes on, instead of sitting down to do it like a normal person would.
He thought James was saying something, and maybe even to Remus specifically, but he could still hear the blood rushing through his head. Beneath that again, he could hear your humming. 
With a groan, Remus let himself topple over from his sitting position to land face-first into his duvet.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. What the fuck?
“Oi!” Remus finally heard, as what felt like a rolled up pair of socks hit his head. “What in Godrick’s name has gotten into you, mate? You good?” It was Sirius voice calling, seemingly from across the room.
Remus just groaned in reply. His eyes were wide open as he stared directly into his sheets, feeling both freezing cold and like his brain was slowed by a fever.
“You okay, Moons?” Peter’s voice came gentler from beside him. Remus thought his hand might be hovering near him, as if he was considering consolingly patting him but was unsure if he should.
Another groan.
“Okay, what about this: groan once if this is Moony mooning over something and twice if you’re in actual crisis,” James suggested, not unkindly.
A singular groan, though it sure did feel like two.
“Groan once if you’re a prick and twice if you’re insufferable,” Sirius felt the need to comment.
Instead of making any further sounds, Remus wrangled his arm from beneath the blanket to show Sirius how he felt about him in the moment with a gesture.
“Fantastic!” James exclaimed. “You have class in 35 minutes, Moons, and breakfast now, so best get a move on.” Remus heard the telltale sound of James leaving – as in, James’ heavy footsteps moving across the floor and Sirius scrambling like a dog to follow after him. At the complete lack of sounds in the rooms after that, he assumed Peter moused after them as well.
At last Remus sat up with a sigh and stared emptily in front of him, mind moving too fast for him to catch a thought but too slow for him to properly process anything.
What does this mean? 
Except Remus could no longer deny that he knew what it meant. That the instant your humming caressed his ears, he knew what it meant. That his subconsciousness wanted to replace a girl who saw him as a romantic prospect in a place Remus felt queasy in with you in a place he considered home. That is no coincidence.
And that when you kissed him–
Except you did not kiss him. Remus shook his head at that, as if the thoughts could just tumble out of his ears. You did not kiss him and he did not kiss you. Because this was a dream, it was not real and Remus must just be really, really unwell.
He felt unwell, but not in the way he was trying to convince himself.
Taking one deep breath, Remus looked to the awning of their little dormitory and shot out a silent prayer for any higher power to listen.
Put me back together, I cannot fall apart like this.
Bury this back down deep, I cannot feel like this.
It was going to be a long day.
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
By the time Remus had made it to the entryway to the Great Hall, feeling frazzled and less put together than he had an excuse to, he saw his group of friends making their way out.
“Rem!” It was you who caught sight of him first, and immediately beelined towards him, the others following closely behind, wearing varying degrees of concern and confusion as they looked him up and down.
Your face was by far the most concerned, as you immediately brought your left hand up to cup his cheek. “Are you alright, cariad?”
For the first time in your almost two decades of friendship, Remus was painfully aware of your physical proximity.
He always knew, of course, but it never really registered with him – it was completely natural. Right now, nothing about him felt natural. You stood flush with him and he felt you against him like a fire, skin singeing beneath his clothes. Your eyes seemed so big looking into his that he could get lost in them, his only internal monologue being a dreamy sigh and a long string of curse words at the absolute madhouse chaos that his mind was becoming. As he looked at you, it was like he could see his version of you from his dream as well, how you looked at him with so much love and admiration, how your lips inched closer to his.
“Mate?” Remus realised then, that he had been staring at you for far too long, not answering your question, to the point where James had to try to catch his attention.
“I– uh,” Remus sputtered, eyes flickering wildly all over your face, panic rising in his chest as he realised he could not think clearly with you so close.
He took a step back without thinking, just barely out of your grasp but still close, and shook his head. “Sorry, yeah, no, yes, I just feel a bit… off today.”
The furrow between your brows deepend, and once more his mind flashed back to his dream. His hand twitched. It seemed like you weren’t even aware of it when you took a step closer, to be back by his side, reaching your wrist up to place it on his forehead to feel his temperature. “You’re feeling poorly?” you whispered so quietly and so lovingly Remus thought he might faint.
Was it always like this? It was always like this. Why was he freaking out about it then? He was freaking out. What the fuck was wrong with him?
With horror, Remus realised that a slight blush was creeping up his neck, and he fought hell to keep it down as he cleared his throat. “Just a little, uh, dove, it’s nothing to worry about.”
“Do you want to go lay down?” You began what he knew would be a string of suggestions for things to do to make him feel better, and he could not stand watching you be so concerned when he was lying to you.
Almost like a flinch, he pulled back out of your arms – properly this time, taking several strides backwards away from the group. It barely registered with him that James and Sirius were looking at him with some confused amusement while Lily looked sympathetic.
“I, erm, will be fine, yeah? Nothing to worry about.” Without properly looking, he reached an arm out to grab Peter by the shoulder and all but manhandled him to his side. “Peter and I have Herbology now, but uh, I’ll catch you later?”
Remus hated how everything he said sounded like a question, like he was running a lie by you for you to confirm if it was believable. Remus hated that he couldn’t tear his gaze away from your face for more than a few seconds and most of all he hated that he was spiraling under the weight of your gaze in turn. A horrible combination.
“Take care, Rem,” you whispered as he all but ran away from you, hauling Peter along.
You stood looking after him for a moment, only turning your head when you felt Lily’s reassuring hand on your shoulder to find a small smile on her face.
“What in the buggering hell was that?” Sirius questioned, looking mostly at you for an answer.
“I don’t know,” you said, honestly. Had you known, you might still not have told him, though, if you thought Remus wouldn’t want you to. “I usually always know about his moods before they come, but this has me stumped,” you murmured, mostly to yourself.
“He woke up weirdly,” James mused, rubbing his hand across his chin. “I guess we’ll just see where the day goes, yeah?”
The four of you nodded at each other, but you still gnawed on your lip in concern, glancing over your shoulder to where he disappeared. 
Whatever it was, you hoped he would come talk with you about it when he was ready.
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
Remus only had one hour to compose himself during Herbology before he had Charms with you. Sharing most of his classes with you was something he had always considered a blessing, and while that sentiment would likely never fade, it was also causing him some distress as he almost toppled the work desk with his jittering.
Peter didn’t question him, but Remus’ obvious nerves were apparently contagious for the anxious boy who jittered right along with him, casting him the occasional glance.
Letting his elbows fall heavily on the desk, Remus put his head in his hands and ignored the instructions Professor Sprout was walking them through – he would let Peter pick up the slack for once and then subsequently accept the lower marks. Right now, Remus had to think and get his shit together.
He breathed his way through some panic exercises and pictured you in his mind. It almost brought a smile to his lips in an instant and for the first time, he let the realisation of how irrevocably wrecked for you he was.
Has it always been like this? Why have I never put this into words before? How can I revert back?
In that moment, Remus decided two things. Firstly, there was no possibility of you returning his feelings nor would he ever expect you to. It was true that you accepted and loved him in a way he never could quite believe himself deserving of, but that in itself is testament that it couldn’t be any more. What you gave him was already too much, it would be unthinkable for you to harbour even deeper feelings for him.
Second, and most importantly, he could not lose you. Remus has made many mistakes in his time, but he could not live with himself if he lost you. It would be too much. Because regardless of the fact that he now knew he was– that he now knew what he knew, the friendship between you was the most important thing. It was Remus and Y/N, right?
He could not be weird and sputtering, he could not make you uncomfortable. Meaning, he could not withdraw from you despite his instinct to run and hide. Shame burned within him at the thought that even if he could withdraw he didn’t know if he could fight his want not to. You were muscle memory.
Remus opened his eyes and slowly dragged his palms down his face in resolution. He would have to act as if nothing was wrong, and he would have to lie through his bloody teeth to explain away whatever bodily reactions he has.
If he starts stammering, he will have to shut up and lie that he is tired. If he becomes an embarrassing shade of auburn, he will have to cough and lie that he might be coming down with a fever. If he shakes, it is because of lack of sleep. If he, Merlin forbids, cries, he will have to claim he must be coming down with some odd moonsickness. You will surely follow him to Madam Pomfrey and maybe it will be easier when you’re alone.
Or maybe it will be worse.
No matter which it was, Remus would have to soldier it, for your sake. You did not deserve his imposing infatuation, but you also did not deserve to lose what you thought to be a loyal friend.
When him and Peter packed up the barely-used desk and mumbled a goodbye to a disapproving Sprout in the door, Remus made it his mission to focus on his breathing again as he almost ran down the hallways to where your friend group always met up outside the Charms classroom.
Be normal, be normal, be normal.
Your eyes found him the second he rounded the final corner, almost as if you had been watching it, waiting for him. A beautiful smile lit up on your face as soon as you saw him, albeit a bit dampened by the worry in your eyes – he simultaneously wanted desperately to soothe you while also berating himself for it being there. His fault.
“Hey dovey.” He forced his words to be casual, his smile to be measured as he strode up beside you. 
This is where he is supposed to drag you into a sideways hug, squeezing your hips while dropping a kiss on the top of your head, causing Sirius to make some quip about “you were literally just gone an hour. He stood beside you perhaps a beat too long before he began to do so with shaking hands, and he felt your burning look as you studied him. Remus made it all the way up to where he would kiss your head before he chickened out due to the tornado screaming in his stomach.
“Hi, Rem,” you all but whispered, your words just for him. You opened your mouth to say more, but he was afraid of what it would be.
“Waited long?” he asked to distract you from it.
“Nah,” you said and leaned further into his side. “But I’m glad you’re here now. How’re you feeling?”
At that, he saw Peter, Sirius, James and Lily – who had been stuck in their own little world – look up and try to hear what he has to say. Remus crumbled under their watchful gazes, knowing they knew him well enough to pick apart his every little reaction. He cleared his throat.
“I don’t really know,” he settled for. “My head’s murky, didn’t sleep well.”
You made a soft cooing sound and started rubbing circles on the side of his hip from where your arms were circled around him. It knocked a wave of dizziness into him that made him want to take a step back to lean against the cold stone wall behind you. In replacement he settled for holding onto you tighter; it only made it worse.
“Are you sure you don’t want to go lay down? Merlin knows we won’t be missing out on anything with the way Flitwick rambles away any sense he might have.”
This is where Remus would laugh heartily at your obvious disdain for the professor that he never truly understood. Instead, his mind zeroed in on one word you said.
We. We, we, we, we.
Circe’s tits, did he want to take you up on that.
He swallowed, acutely aware that you must have heard the sound when stood so close to him, though you didn’t give away any reaction. To buy himself a moment to collect his thoughts, Remus finally dared tilt his chin downwards to kiss the top of your head. It might have been too slow, too tentative, but his heart was beating so fast the rest of his body felt too slowed down in comparison. He hoped you thought the kiss was a thank you for caring and not the nervous stall it was. He hoped he wouldn’t be eternally damned for breathing in the scent of you.
“I’m quite alright, dove,” he murmured instead, furiously avoiding the surely questioning gazes of his other friends. “Thank you, though.”
You grumbled some but didn’t push him on it. He silently thanked you for that, too.
His throat was too parched to partake in the silent banter amongst his friends as you walked into Charms, too focused on where your bodies brushed as you walked, too deafened by the sound of your laughter.
You sat down in your regular spots, you and Remus side by side in the front, with Sirius and James behind you and Lily and Mary to your right. This was normal, this was alright. Flitwick droned on about the theoretics and debates around the charms you learned last lesson, it went in one ear and out the other.
Absentmindedly, you had grabbed Remus’ hand lightly between yours and were tracing soothing circles along his wrist and palm. You meant so well, and this would have cured likely any other ailment Remus struggled with, but right now there were fireworks going off in his head.
Taking advantage of the notice Dumbledore had given all of his professors to not call Remus out on sleeping in class, he folded his arms and laid his head down on them, carefully not to take his hand away from you. If he could shield his face, he could probably talk himself down before class ended.
In the solitude of his arms, he could picture it was just the two of you, sitting in the treehouse you built between your houses as children. If he focused enough, he could smell the apples that grew around him and feel the rough wood beneath his stomach. There, your hand would still be in his, maybe even your cheek on his chest, and it would be alright. It would all be alright because it was just you, and Remus could play dumb and he would never have to realise his feelings and fuck himself over.
It almost worked. Until he was interrupted.
“Psst! L/N?” The whisper was laced with a laughter Remus knew too well and did not care for.
You clearly ignored it – Remus could practically see the eye roll you surely threw his way – but that wasn’t enough to stop his theatrics.
“L/N!” Barty called once more from a couple seats behind you to your right, voice threatening to alert Flitwick to your inattention. “What’s wrong with your dog?”
“What?” you whispered back in equal parts confusion and irritation.
“Your puppy, Lupin,” Barty said, as if it was obvious. Unfortunately, Remus could picture his eye roll too, though his stomach was turning for a wholly different reason. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Remus is quite alright, Junior,” you hissed back, hand tightening on Remus’ at the same time as he loosened it. “And don’t call him a dog.”
Remus slowly lifted his head from his arms and took back his hands to wipe harshly at his face, still not looking towards Junior who barked a low laugh.
“Follows you around like one. Wouldn’t surprise me if you had some invisible leash going on–” Barty quipped, cutting himself off before you could respond and turning to Evan Rosier sitting beside him. “Oooooh, an invisible leash is a marvellous idea, Rosie.”
It was clear you had lost his attention, but Remus’ face still burned painfully as he shifted in his seat. With a harrumphing sound, you turned to look at him. He didn’t meet your eye, couldn’t.
“Ignore him.” Remus always marvelled at how you manage to convey your frustration and care at the same time.
He just hummed in the affirmative, still wiping a bit harshly at his face. If he treated it harshly enough, could he blame his violent flush on it?
“Cariad,” you mumbled, gently taking his hands away from his face, clearly spotting his efforts.
He saw your furrowed eyebrows looking at him, and that was the end of what he could take for the lesson. As you opened your mouth, surely to inquire about how he is, like the beautifully kind person he knows you to be, he pushed his chair backwards.
“I think I should probably listen to you and go lay down, dove,” he murmured, avoiding your gaze. Before you could shoot in and say you would come with him, he continued. “Can you please take notes for me in Transfiguration after this?” 
An indirect rejection, a plea for isolation. He didn’t look at your face as he gathered his things, waiting for you to respond instead.
“Sure, if that’s what you want,” you said carefully.
What I want is you.
“Yes, please.” Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward and pressed a parting goodbye kiss to your cheek, tradition. “Thank you, love.”
Then he was sneaking his way out around the desks, barely catching a murmured voice he knew to be Sirius’, likely leaning forward to ask you about him. His lips singed.
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
Remus hid away in his room for two hours, actually being truthful and trying to get a nap in. The dorm room felt serendipitous, being swept up in rare silence and a grace of darkness as he trickled in and out of consciousness. If he dreamed more of you, he would not admit it.
Any semblance of reprieve he might have chased down was ripped away from him by the creaking of the door and the wall of sound that followed his three favourite boys who always got on his last three nerves.
“Oi, Moons!” Sirius exclaimed, far too cheerily. “You know the rules!”
Remus propped his head up on his elbow from where he was sprawled on his stomach, looking blearily at the three figures as they situated themselves within the dorm. “The rule to not wake a sleeping sod? Yes, I’m the only one who knows that rule it seems.”
Sirius took off his sweater as he discarded his uniform and used it to swat at Remus. “Nope! No wallowing on your own. Sharing is caring.”
“‘M not wallowing,” Remus grumbled as he let his head fall back into his pillow.
Letting his guard down was undoubtedly a mistake because the second Sirius was out of sight, he had the audacity to jump into Remus’ bed, nearly flinging him off from the impact. Both Sirius and James were laughing boisterously as Sirius collapsed on top of Remus and ruffled his hair when he tried to shove him off. “Not anymore, no, we won’t let you.” 
Remus hated that he loved them.
“Precisely,” James added as he pointed at Remus from where he was changing into his non-uniform clothes as well. “So either speak your mind or perk up, buttercup.”
Remus groaned but let Sirius drag him up into a sitting position. “Can a poor lycanthrope not have one off day without you lot getting your knickers in a twist?” Despite his best efforts, there was no ire in his voice.
“Nope!” James said, popping the p. “Not on our watch.”
“Life is simply miserable without our Moony,” Sirius said, clutching his chest as if he was ailing. “And do you have any idea how weird it is to see your sweetheart without you by her side? It’s like watching a cut up picture.”
All humour that had been creeping into Remus’ expression was washed away in and instant as he swallowed harshly, suddenly averting his gaze from Sirius. Instead, James caught it, who looked at him with big eyes behind his glasses, cocking his head to the side. He looked far too much like the stag he is, before his mouth opened in a small gasp. “Oh,” he whispered softly.
Remus’ heart was beating painfully hard at the look of realisation that crossed his face, turning back to Sirius who had a similar knowing, almost pitying look in his eyes. No, no, no, no.
“I’ll be fine, you, erm, won’t have to live without me much longer,” Remus tried to volley back, just a few seconds too late, tongue feeling heavy at being found out.
If his best mates could see through him that quickly, then you probably already had. He had half a mind to take you up to the Astronomy Tower like old times, so he could apologise and then jump off as an act of redemption.
Sirius gave his shoulder a rough squeeze, shaking him a little as if he knew what was going through his mind. “Fantastic. Then you’ll join us for our free periods, yeah? And the party later tonight?”
Still somewhat sputtering, Remus’ eyes widened to an extent he was sure was comedic. “The pa– the party?”
James smiled at him. “Yeah, Moons. Gryffindor half-term party? That we have talked about all week?”
“Merlin, maybe Pomfrey needs to go easy on the potions she gives you,” Sirius teased, getting up to finish changing.
“Or she could give me more,” Remus whispered hopefully, earning him a round of chuckles. 
“You’ll be fine, Rem,” James said, with an undertone Remus did not care for. “If you’re still feeling… off throughout the day and night, you can always snuggle up with a book and ignore us hooligans.” Then, almost as if he was testing the waters. “I’m sure Y/N would love to join you.”
Remus didn’t deign any of that with a response, but he suddenly thought he should get out of his bed so his face didn’t seem so red in contrast with the white sheets.
“I have some essays to knock out, so yeah, I’ll join you to study,” Remus relented. He opened his own trunk to get changed, but decided to half-ass it and just take off his tie and replace his uniform wool with one of his own patterned jumpers.
“And for the party later!” Sirius corrected, ensuring Remus didn’t think he could back out.
“Sure, sure.” He ruffled his own hair so it was Remus-messy and not Sirius-messed-up-my-hair-messy. “Let’s just go.”
─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───
Considering the extent to which he could fuck this up for himself, Remus reckoned he had been doing fairly good keeping his shit together throughout the day.
If he mentally cursed more than normal, contemplated the murder of each one of his friends including himself and generally couldn’t breathe, well, that was merely part of it.
The whole lot had shacked up in the library for the triple free periods you had back to back on Fridays. While you doted concernedly over him for the first thirty minutes, you eased up once you seemed to decide that this wasn’t Remus shoving down some lycanthropy-struggles and avoiding support and help. 
As always, the two of you sat in the love seat, your legs sprawled over his lap as you read through your textbooks in the oddest positions. This was usually something he might chide you for – “your neck will hurt if you hang over the edge like that, love” – but today he buried his face into his textbooks with all his might to not seem like he was aware of your body. He was, of course, you burned over his skin and lit up his heart, and Circe’s tits was he the stupidest sod in the whole castle.
Nonetheless, he made it through all three hours, engaging in comforting banter and low laughs with his best mates. When you teamed up with him to mess with Sirius, he at least knew that you weren’t upset with him in any way, even though he was being a lunatic today, even though he most definitely would have deserved it.
What Remus knew would be his breaking point was the Gryffindor party.
It was a laid back event, a party thrown for all of Gryffindor, though it was mostly the upper years who were encouraged to attend. They arranged it halfway through every term to celebrate making it through and engaging with each other. Meaning, most people didn’t get shitfaced but there was some good bubbling energy maintained throughout the whole night.
You and Remus had a tradition for how you dealt with parties – just as you had a tradition for pretty much everything, he had come to notice. Gods, he lov– Stop it.
Neither one of you were necessarily fond of large crowds, but you both were incredibly loyal and fond of your friends and wanted to spend time with them. Thus, you attended the parties, but you always did so together. The more uncomfortable you got, the closer you would get to each other, and if one ever needed a break, they would tap the other three times and they would make up an excuse to usher them out of there.
It had never felt so unnerving to be so known.
Throughout the whole party he had been jittery, head rushing with thoughts. He desperately tried not to take in your outfit and then he desperately tried not to read into it when you seemed disappointed he didn’t compliment you for it like he usually did. Why did he have to be such a sweet best friend normally? Remus can’t keep up with himself.
It did not help him in the slightest that others around the party seemed to focus on your outfit much more openly than he could dare. It made him gravitate even closer to you, tighten his hand on his hip, momentarily rest his chin on the top of your head – and then his actions made him want to kick himself. Possessiveness was the last thing he could be engaging with when he was already betraying you in such a manner. 
Leave it to Remus to fuck up something beautiful.
To say you didn’t seem to notice that he was troubled would be taking it too far, but at least you didn’t seem to notice why. You kept him close to your side and would at random points stroke his back soothingly. He wondered if you just thought he was uncomfortable with the party.
You were chatting with Pandora by the drinks table when Barty and Evan strolled up to you both with cheshire cat grins.
“There he is, back on his leash,” Junior said through a menacing laugh, ignoring Evan’s slight elbow to his side. “Feeling better, darling?”
“What brings you to the lions' den, Junior?” Remus asked carefully to divert the topic.
“Well. Y/N’s going so Pandora’s going so Evan’s going, and thus–” he did a small flourishing spin “– I’m going.”
“You’re impossible,” Evan murmured, while Pandora just smiled happily. 
“Is he feeling better, then?” Barty asked once more, this time looking at you.
“No, actually,” you said with a small smile Remus knew not to be genuine. “He is absolutely devastated you’re not in the Slytherin common room right now. He had big plans for you there, you know.”
Remus tried to choke down his laugh as Barty looked torn between glee and irritation. Somehow he made both work. “Sorry to soil your plans then, Lupin. Better luck next time.”
Then he stalked off in almost a hurry and Remus couldn’t help but hope he was going to Slytherin to check if you were telling the truth. 
He looked down at where you were standing beside him and squeezed your shoulder lightly. “You really are a minx,” he whispered conspiratorially.
That turned out to be his undoing. You turned your head to the side to look up at him with mirth playing around in your enamouring eyes, a soft tilt to the corner of your mouth. And your face was oh so painfully close to his.
Remus became acutely aware that he could easily lean in and catch your smile with his. That the air he was breathing had been close to you in some of the only ways he had not yet. That he must look like your boyfriend when you’re standing essentially pressed up against each other like this.
That he most certainly has been looking at your lips for far too long.
When he flicks his gaze back up, he sees a slight furrow between your brows again as you seem to take in his reaction, and suddenly he goes from having butterflies in his stomach to needing to throw them all up. He took a sudden staggering step backwards, almost crashing into James who was engaging in some animated discussion with Marlene.
“I, uh,” Remus said and dear Godrick he was stammering. “I’ll get us some drinks and we can sit down, yeah?” He didn’t wait for you to respond, instead spinning his back to you and hoping you pick up conversation with Pandora again.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Don’t be a bloody arse.
He hoped he had steadied himself enough by the time he plopped down in his favourite grandfather chair near the fire. He placed both of your drinks on the table in front of him, vowing to touch his as minimally as possible to make sure he keeps whatever wits he has left with him.
A dumb smile takes over his face as his breathing quickens when he sees you make your way over to the seating area, after having listened to his desperate silent plea and finished your conversation with Pandora. Pushing his luck, he shoots another silent prayer that it will be smooth sailing from here, which is apparently promptly ignored as you happily sit down in his lap.
Fuck.
This, he reminds himself, is also normal for the two of you. Especially at parties, especially if you have reason to believe he is unsteady in any sense of the word, which he most certainly has given you plenty of reason to believe. 
You give him some form of greeting he can’t quite catch and isn’t sure if he reciprocated as you settle down, putting majority of your weight on his right thigh as you lean your body sideways against his. One of your arms snuck around his shoulders, fingers winding up playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, while the other is stabilising yourself on his knee. Majority of your close friends had followed your lead by sitting down in the small gathering, chattering amongst themselves. He was half-aware that you were rambling on about something to him, something he probably really wanted to listen to, but it felt like his head was underwater.
Unsure of what else to do, he lowered his face into your shoulder and took deep breaths there.
You seemed wholly unbothered, fingers continuing in his hair as your soothing voice carried him through what he feared might become a panic attack. He was almost there, when the cocoon you two had in your chair was burst by the presence of your other friends.
“You alright there, Moons? You’re not going to go all vampire on poor Y/N?” Sirius’ tone was lighthearted and teasing, but Remus felt as if he might actually die.
“Oh, he’s quite alright,” you answered for him with a smile before he could embarrass himself, immediately switching over to engage in conversation with the friends sitting closest to you. Your hand on his knee squeezed reassuringly.
Fuck, how could he not love you?
He loved you.
Remus almost had to fight crying as he hid in the crook of his neck, overwhelmed by his own emotions and the surely watchful gazes of those around him – the latter of which was why he couldn’t. 
With a deep breath he let his desire win for just one second and pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before emerging from his hiding place. He shifted you carefully to be more comfortable, so that your back was against him and he could rest his head on the shoulder he just kissed.
He did fairly good, partaking in conversation, engaging with the others, albeit more quietly and less than usual. He laughed and he smiled and you were so soft against him, as if you had melted. Remus was in heaven while being tortured.
Marlene wolf whistled quietly from where she was sat on the floor, eyeing Remus with mirth. Though he still did not know why, he was already turning red, the tips of his ears burning.
“Hi, Remmy.” He heard the soft voice say beside him and he turned his head to see Emmeline giving him a somewhat sly smile. “The dance floor’s picking up. Want to go for another round?”
Remus’ stomach churned. Emmeline was such a sweet girl and he never could say no to her, the only thing that felt worse than the embarrassment from his friends’ teasing was the thought of embarrassing her – though Remus was sure even thinking like that made him into an even bigger arse.
Sirius and James had told him multiple times that he could say no. As had you, reminding him how important it was to have boundaries, even while you were sitting practically on top of him at the time. He just could never bring himself to.
Yet his mouth seemed to move on its own accord before he could think, arms tightening around you. “No, not tonight Emmeline, sorry. Knock yourself out, though.” He tried to give her a warm smile, but his movements seemed to be outside of his control at the moment, breath sucked from his lungs.
He realised with a sting that he should have given her more credit all along when she beams back at him. “No worries, enjoy your night!” she cheered before twirling towards the dance floor herself.
Remus let out a shaky breath and turned to his friends who were almost staring him down. James’ mouth was even open in shock, which he thought was a bit dramatic.
“Hold on, what just happened?” Sirius guffawed. “Has our little Moony learned to say no?”
Remus flushed even further. “Shut up, Pads.”
“Don’t think I will,” his mate replied with a wolfish grin turning to look to the others for support. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
“What’s inspired this change in you?” Mary asked thoughtfully, propping her head into her hands as if she was settling in for a lengthy response.
All eyes were back on Remus and he felt like the mask he had been clinging to all day was crumbling. The nerves that shot through him like lightning now was not his usual humiliation from being in a charged spotlight – no, this was fear. Genuine fear that if he didn’t get his head screwed back on within two seconds, he might say something too revealing, or his face would do it without him having to open his mouth. That his fiery ears would somehow spell out I am in love with my very best friend and I realised it too late and am making it everybody else’s problem. He had no idea what to do.
In his time of despair, with Mary’s big eyes staring up at him, Marlene and Lily already snickering between them and Sirius raising an expecting brow, his instincts knew of only one way out.
His finger on your hip lifted. Tap, tap, tap.
Almost as if a switch had gone off, you made a soft gasp and turned to look at him in his lap. “Gods, Rem, speaking of Emmeline, I totally forgot our gift for Sirius in my dorm room in Ravenclaw!” you exclaimed, putting your all into the act. Your excuse seemed to be a good one as Sirius’ head immediately picked up, not unlike that of a dog’s if you said the word ‘treat’ around them. “We have to go get it before the party’s over.”
You elegantly hopped up and out of his lap, dragging him behind him with a grip on his elbow. Remus stumbled and scrambled behind you, tossing a sorry don’t know what that’s about look to the others over his shoulder. He barely caught sight of what he could only classify as a knowing exchange of smiles between James and Lily.
Before he could truly process your rescue mission, he was standing outside in the cool hallway breathing heavily, portrait closed behind him. 
Before him, you stood with your hands on your hips, scanning his face thoroughly, making him almost cower beneath your gaze. You seemed to make up your mind about something as you took his hand once more and walked with him down the hall in silence, rounding the corners until you reached one of the deep windowsills, the kind the two of you would always sit in and read. 
You jumped to lift yourself into it and once you were sat with one hand on each side of your body, you levelled him with a look.
“Okay, spill,” you said, directly but not unkindly. “What is going on with you?”
Remus did not think this through. He needed help and so he called upon you for it like he always does, not thinking to consider that that might very well make this worse for him.
“It’s…” he began, picking at straws in his mind for an excuse. “It’s nothing, dove. Really.” 
“When’s my birthday?” you asked then, to his surprise. He furrowed his brows at you and told you the date. You smiled a bit smugly. “Exactly. So you know I wasn’t born yesterday.”
He genuinely laughed at that, even if it was at his expense. He let his body do as it wished and took a small step closer to you. Not enough for your bodies to touch, but enough to feel like he was in your space. Safe, even in his panic.
“Remus,” you said softly, painfully gently. You rarely used his first name, and now when you did, it was laced with an undertone he couldn’t stomach. It was beginning to sound a bit like hurt. “What is going on with you? Why… why are you acting this way towards me?”
Because you are the one thing I have never had to question and now I’m questioning everything. Because I’m a bloody prick who has one dream and ruins his life over it. Because my mind is running a mile a minute and your lips feel like magnets and I swear I am losing control in a way I only do during full moons.
“I don’t know what to do,” he ended up whimpering quietly, cowardly.
You looked around the hallway as if the answer would be written on any of the walls and moved your arms slightly to gesture around you. “About what? I can’t help you unless I know what it is, cariad.”
He scrunched his face for a moment, looking away from you. “Can we not do this? It’s nothing you can fix, dove.”
You seemed to grow even more confused at that, almost frustrated. “Why not?” He realised then that the two of you had always helped each other through everything. Being locked out must hurt. He wanted to kick himself, but he didn't know what else to do. “What’s wrong, Remus, please I just–”
Remus is besieged by the power of someone much more reckless, driven by desire to alleviate you of your confusion and him of his pain.
He cut you off with a kiss.
He took a large stride forward to slot himself in between your thighs, eliminating the space between you within a second, bringing both hands up to cup the sides of your face and bring it towards him. His eyes were shut tightly, furrow in his brows as his lips all but smashed against yours in a kiss that felt sacrificially sacred. Your lips are just as soft as in his dream, as is the small gasp that escapes you as you tense in his grasp.
Remus has never felt better and he has never felt worse.
The kiss lasts for about 10 seconds before he pulls away in even more of a flurry. His hands lost their grip on you first, hovering over your cheeks briefly, as if considering going back in before thinking better of it. He still had you captured in the kiss, hanging on to it for as long as he could deign himself, knowing it was his last opportunity to do so, all the while kicking himself over it.
Backing away, he put double the distance between you. He felt drunk, stumbling slightly as he all but scrambled away, a stinging sensation behind his eyes.
“I’m so sorry, I don't know why I did that. I didn’t mean to,” he breathed out, reeling at his own impulsivity. “That,” he said through a shaking voice as he looked anywhere but your face, “is my problem, and Y/N, I am so, so sorry. I’m so sorry.”
For the shortest second, he lets his eyes flicker quickly over your face before rushing back to stare at a statue on the wall beside you. Your face was blank, eyes wide. Your fingers were barely touching the lips he had just enclosed in his own.
You must be disgusted. You must be horrified. You must feel violated and Remus wanted nothing more than to disappear from the face of the earth and rid you of this undying problem.
He was every bit the beast you had tried to convince him he wasn’t.
“Why…” you began, voice but a whisper, before you trailed off.
Remus had to shut his eyes at that, tilting his head slightly to the side. If he breathed through his nose, he might not cry. He was sitting before the highest court he knew, and you were about to ask him to explain himself.
“Why are you sorry?”
The words floored him a little, enough to make his eyes snap open and land back on your face. You looked deeply concerned, brows tilted upwards as you seemed to take his face in. “Remus,” you whispered now that you finally had his eyes on you. “Why are you sorry?”
He shook his head in confusion, feeling every bit like the boy he was. “I shouldn’t have done that.” It was all he could get out through his hoarse voice. He also had no idea how to answer that question in a satisfactory way.
You took in a short sharp breath and then lowered yourself onto the ground to stand before him. With your hands held out in front of you, almost as if you were ready to lunge out and catch him if he was to run – an idea that was becoming increasingly enticing to him – you took a small step towards him. “Why?” There was a growing spark in your eye, dimmed only by your worried frown.
“Y/N.” He didn’t know what else to say, eyes trained on you.
“Cariad,” you replied in the same tone, and a tear slipped down his left cheek. You took another measured step towards him, enough to reach out for him if you wanted to – but of course, you wouldn’t want to, not anymore. “It’s alright.”
He felt dizzy at the lack of the scolding or disgust he had braced himself for, realising how stupid he was for even fearing that from you. No, you would reject him sweetly and kindly, and his heart would never be mended from it. That felt worse, somehow.
“It’s not,” he whispered. “Please don’t say it is.”
You smiled ruefully and took another small step towards him. He could feel the warmth eminating from you. Tentatively, you reached up a hand to wipe at the tear still sitting on his left cheek. He held his breath and fought the urge to lean into your touch, but when you pressed your palm more firmly against his cheek, he couldn’t anymore. A soft sigh escaped him and he let his eyes fall shut as your touch supported him. “It is, my sweet boy,” you whispered with an urgency that almost convinced him. “Remus, can you answer me honestly?”
His body tensed once more as his eyes fluttered open to find yours, reverent. Most parts of him were still screaming at him to run away, to shut up, to do anything but this. His heart seemed to be in charge for the moment, though, and he nodded slowly. Trusting you with his world even as he felt like a traitor in yours.
“All this, today… has it been because you have realised you’re… in love with me?” You seemed to be piecing it together as you said the words out loud, eyes carefully searching his face for his reaction.
Another tear slipped down his cheek, and you quickly caught it with your other thumb, both hands now cradling his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said once more.
“You’re not allowed to be,” you whispered, giving him a half-smile, almost as if you were indulging him in a secret of yours. “Please answer the question?”
It was now or never. “Yes.”
To his utter surprise and deep-seated confusion, the smile on your face grew genuine, settling into the one he always searched for. He almost opened his mouth to question it before he was cut off.
No words can describe the sensations that bloomed in his chest, the butterflies that flitted in his stomach, when you used your hands on his face as leverage to pull him towards you for another kiss.
You kissed him. You kissed him. You were kissing.
His mind was threatening to take off like a rocket and captiulate, but his hands had never been more steady as they circled around your waist, splaying out over the small of your back as he dragged you closer. You sighed against him, smile still evident over your lips, and Remus dared – like the bastard he was – to mirror it. 
You were warm against him, but wholly different than you had been in his dream. This felt distinctly real. And just as right.
When you pulled away, your hands had migrated to the back of his neck and you kept your forehead leaned against his. “Good,” you murmured with your eyes still closed. “Because the feeling is mutual.”
He almost reared his head away from you, but managed to only pull back a few centimetres to stare at you in awe. Remus opened his mouth, but no words came out; he could find none intelligent enough to verbalise how utterly gobsmacked he felt.
You seemed to understand him just as well, going by your breathy laugh. There was still that spark in your eye, now shining brightly in the absence of your worry. Had the worry been for him?
“I know I don’t say this enough, but you really are quite an idiot, aren’t you?” you laughed and he slowly felt his heart start beating again.
“Spent too much time with Sirius and James, clearly,” he muttered, half expecting the joke to land flat and you to remember how disgusting he was. Instead, your laugh intensified and you leaned your body further against his. It emboldened him to ask, “What do you mean the feeling is mutual, dove?”
You let your arms glide further up, crossing behind his neck and over his shoulder, bringing him impossibly closer. “Remus John Lupin,” you whispered sincerely. “I am madly in love with you. Romantically. Genuinely. Any thoughts you have that explain that away are false and you mustn't listen to them. I thought you knew by now that I’m always right.”
Even as the grin involuntarily established itself on his face, his eyes were shining with unshed tears. He looked at your face, truly studied it, and he could feel his mind ever so slowly calm down. “You are.”
“What am I?” You were testing him, and he allowed it wholeheartedly.
“Right,” he confirmed. Albeit a bit more hesitantly, he knew better than not to add, “and… in love with me?”
“Two points to Gryffindor.” You reached up to give his lips a soft peck. It felt so natural, like it was already habit for you. He desperately wanted it to be.
“I’m sorry, I’m still reeling from this, dovey,” he confessed, trying to process everything.
There had never been any judgement to be found in your face. “Which parts are you struggling with the most?” 
Your eyes were full of understanding, your face scrunched up in concentration. Remus indulged himself in an old habit by reaching up with one hand to thumb the furrows away. It made you smile just like he wanted it to, and gave him a minute to think. “I don’t understand how I didn’t get it before now. I don’t understand how or why you put up with me. I don’t understand how to keep all these feelings inside such a small heart.”
Your hands were stroking his back carefully as you considered his words. “Well, firstly I would argue your heart isn’t small at all, though I get what you mean. You’re not meant to keep all the feelings inside, you know? That’s when you get all sputtery and jittery and start avoiding your best friends.” You gave him a pointed look and he almost shied under your glance. “Sharing them before you bubble over is always a good thing. We’ll work on it together. As for why I put up with you; I don’t. There’s nothing to put up with, I just enjoy you like we always have.”
Your eyes had trailed off into the distance as you thought, but you brought them back to him with a small smile as you added the final part. “I don’t know what did make you realise, so I can’t help you much there. All I can say is, sometimes we don’t see what is right in front of us.”
Remus nodded along to your words, feeling peace spreading within in that manner only you could inspire in him. He truly was an idiot, wasn’t he? “How long have you known?” he asked then, curiously.
“About you or me?”
“Both?” His smile was becoming closer to his standard sheepish one, and you seemed to preen at the sight.
You bobbed your head side to side as you considered. “It’s hard to pinpoint an exact date – it wasn’t an overnight discovery you know?” Remus did in fact not know nor relate. “But I realised we were in love, not either one’s feelings. It just sat calmly within me.”
“You mean you didn’t freak out to the extent where all students and professors alike were worried about you?”
He grinned at the small giggle that drew from you as you decidedly said, “No. Definitely not.” You studied him for a minute more. “I think I realised about five months ago, but I didn’t feel any real need to rush anything. It felt less like being given a to-do list and more like being revealed the plot twist in a movie before it happens, if you understand? The two best friends get together in the end, don’t tell anyone.”
He ducked his head at that. While he could not relate, your explanation and experience was so wholeheartedly you that it endeared him to no end. “Does that mean we should just ignore it for five more months or…?” His grin turned cheeky as you lightly swatted his shoulder.
“Nah,” you chuckled. “I reckon we’ve waited long enough, yeah?”
He sighed with a smile. “Yeah.”
You both leaned forward at the same time, as if to seal the deal with a kiss. Remus could feel it like electricity in the tips of his fingers, and he understood what you meant about knowing. Now that he was no longer in a constant state of panic, he felt incredibly calm about the whole ordeal.
Or maybe that’s just how he feels around you.
“Should I ask you formally to be my girlfriend, or are we just skipping straight to marriage?” he whispered against your lips.
Remus felt almost wolfish when you barked a loud laugh, throwing your head back and tightening your hold on him instinctively. “I think girlfriend’s enough for now, yeah cariad?”
“If you insist.” He kissed you through his grin, realising that this was all he wanted to do now.
Like he had so many times before, he tightened his arms around your waist and twirled you around in a few circles, legs flying out behind you. Except this time, your giggles were not hidden in his neck but pressed against his lips, and he tried to capture as many kisses as possible while he spun you.
When you landed with a breathless giggle, he kept one arm firmly around your waist as the two of you slowly made your way back to the Gryffindor common room. He wondered if maybe he could grab some blankets and bring you up to the Astronomy Tower so you could be alone without his friends’ meddling. Yet, he wanted to see them as well, ready to volley back any quips about “took you long enough” and “I fucking called it”. Plus, you argued that you should prove that he was in fact alive and sane.
When he walked the halls back to the Gryffindor common room with your body against his, everything felt right. When you entered together, and everyone read what had happened written clearly across your faces, resorting to their usual hoots and hollers, arguably louder than ever before, it never stopped feeling right. 
Remus being Remus, flushed deeply and averted his gaze, as he would continue doing under any uncalled for attention – but your arms squeezing him around the middle brought him right back down and your kiss to his shoulder soothed the burn of their gazes.
“What’s my gift then?” Sirius later asked salaciously as he eyed you two up and down where you cuddled together right back in the same chair, as if nothing changed. Maybe nothing really did.
You grinned widely and cleared your throat. “I honourably present to you,” you said and opened your arms towards Remus with a flourish. “A Moony who is no longer mooning.”
The little group erupted in even more cheers, celebrating the massive feat of taming their brooding boy. Remus couldn’t help but laugh along, even at his own expense. His cheeks were red but it was equally due to the exertion of laughing as it was a tinge of embarrassment. When he hid his face into the crook of your neck again, he didn’t feel nearly as guilty when he pressed a few kisses to the bare skin he found there – even less so when you melted against him with a sigh.
It felt as if a permanent smile had been sown onto his face where he sat, more content than he believed he had been while inside this castle.
Despite Remus Lupin’s disdain for public displays of affection, he had held you publicly many times before this. They all paled in comparison to the feeling of you in his arms now. 
It had always been significant to him in its casualty, just as you have always been significant to him long before he had the mind to put the feeling into words. He will always treasure every moment of your existence in his orbit. Yet the way you melted into his skin now, growing roots in each one of his aching bones – no, nothing could compare to it.
Yes, Remus Lupin ailed from public displays of affection. But you were his cure.
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sleepyking · 21 hours ago
Text
SUP
My right leg is shorter than my left leg cause I broke the growth plates in it when I was like six-ish
My left arm is shorter than my right arm cause I broke my elbow and wrist in it at my seventh birthday party
Broke the SAME ELBOW AND WRIST like a YEAR later tripping over a soccer net at school (I did exactly what everyone else did. I’m the only one who ever broke a bone or even got slightly injured on that net.)
Broke my middle finger at school. Got to flip people off when they asked about it, it was pretty fun
Sometimes I’ll wake up wearing a different outfit than when I went to sleep
I’ve also woken up with new scars a few times? Idk I’m talented
This one time I broke my leg tripping on a pebble
I’ve apparently almost fallen off of the same cliff like three or four times in my life
And uuuuh my memory is so bad that I have:
Forgotten my own birthday multiple times
Forgotten what I was doing in the middle of doing it
Gone multiple days without eating or drinking because I forgot that they were essential things
And so many other things it’s actually kind of concerning
@somedudenamedanthony @sillylilneurodivergent @skellseer @little-teacupss
it's so weird to me that everyone on this website is a human person outside of their weird internet niche so rb this with a random bit of your lore
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tropes-and-tales · 23 hours ago
Text
Lieutenant Steal-Your-Girl, Part II
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(Bob Floyd x F!Reader; Jake Seresin x F!Reader)
CW:  Light angst (relationship woes); open relationships; smut (oral, F!receiving; PiV, unprotected); 18+ only.
Word Count:  4180
AN:  This is part of a larger mini-series, found here, and it was requested by several anonymous folk!
AN2: This has not been edited in any way, shape, or form!
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Jake has always prided himself on making the right move every time.  As a varsity athlete in high school, whether on the football field or basketball court, for example: he always saw the field of play, the players on it.  He could always calculate possible outcomes and always made the right choice.
Same for his military career.  He didn’t make it to Top Gun as a fluke.  He’s the best because he can sense the environment, can feel the strength and speed of the plane under his control.  He can crawl into the psyche of his fellow pilots and best them in simulations because he’s sharp and observant.
He always makes the right move.
Until he doesn’t.
Opening up his relationship with you felt like the right move months ago.  Jake loves you, truly.  He knows he can search for a thousand years and never find a woman as loyal as you.  He’ll never find someone so willing to put up with the chaos of his life in active service.  Even if he didn’t know it, the other guys would remind him of it:  that you’re a rare specimen, that he should have wifed you up years ago.
The thing is—you and Jake have been together for so long.  Since you were kids.  Since ideas like love and forever were abstract things.  Since your future together seemed both a small thing and a thing that would stretch out for an eternity.  It was one thing to date you as a teenager, to make lofty promises to you when the biggest decision Jake had to make was which party to attend after the Friday night football game.
It was an entirely different thing now.  To go from his small Texas hometown to the world and all its variety and promise.  To turn to the hard, often boring work of living together:  Jake getting his marching orders, you trailing behind faithfully.
Opening the relationship was for both of you.  It’s how Jake justified it to you, how if you both loosened the reins a bit, then when you eventually married, there’d be no lingering doubt.  There’d be no question of missing out. 
It worked for all those months.  Jake got to have his cake and eat it too.  He got to explore, got to experience different women…but always came home to you.  It was like a pressure valve, just him letting off steam, relieving the pressure that built up from a high-stress position as a pilot.
He encouraged you to do the same.  To explore.  To have fun.  There was a part of him that was turned on by the thought of you with another man, though if Jake were entirely honest with himself, the entire open relationship was mostly for him.
If you sat at the Hard Deck with a dour expression on your face, was that his fault?  If you refused to take advantage of the free pass he gave you, was that his problem?
Until you seemingly took advantage of that free pass. 
Until you don’t come home one night.  Until you breeze in late one morning with a soft smile of your face that Jake hasn’t seen for years.  Until you murmur a greeting at him, distracted, then slip into the bathroom for a long shower.
Jake always makes the right move, but as you seemingly wash away some other man under a steaming shower, he realizes that he’s made the absolute worst move.
-----
Who was it?
It’s the question that gnaws at his gut, that makes his jaw ripple with tension as he grinds his teeth together.
The most obvious answer is someone from your job.  Jake is away for long stretches, and you have a traditional 9-to-5 job in tech.  Your office is tilted heavily in favor of the men; there’s a lot of young guys in your orbit every workday.  Some asshole in khakis and a polo shirt, some asshole with a sensible Honda CRV with golf clubs stowed in the back.  Some asshole who perhaps goes out to lunch with you, the two of you sharing tacos in the San Diego sunshine, of sending flirty messages through Slack or whatever…
Another possibility?  A fellow flyboy, or at least a military asshole.  San Diego teems with young, fit men in uniforms, and many of them are looking for a loyal girl to lock down. 
Which puts Jake in mind of his fellow Daggers.  You accompany him to the Hard Deck nearly every night he goes.  You usually sit outside, listening to the surf…but you spend enough time with the rest of his squad.
Is it Coyote, with his killer smile and dimples?
It is Payback with his laid-back charm and easy way of talking?
Could it be Javi and the way he leans in, like he’s unable to resist a woman when he’s chatting her up?
Maybe it’s Bob.  Jake had made a joke of it often enough, just for the benefit of tweaking the little nerd and making him go atomic red.  Jake loved winding the back-seater up, and every time he asked Bob if he wanted to fuck you, he turned into a stuttering, blushing mess before freaking out and declining.
Rooster and his unbuttoned Hawaiian shirts and ability to draw all eyes on him when he plays the piano?  You took piano lessons in high school, and more than once, you’ve perched beside Rooster and added little musical flourishes as he pounded out another Jerry Lee Lewis standard.  Jake searches his memory.  Didn’t you give Rooster a shy little smile after each performance?  Didn’t Rooster throw an arm around your shoulders and pull you against his side after a duet that ended in raucous applause?
And didn’t Rooster pull Jake aside just weeks ago to give him a stern talking-to about how miserable you seem?
Jake sits in the canteen and picks at his lunch, and he lets his glare settle on the man sitting two tables over.  Was Maverick’s pet pilot the man who put that dreamy little smile on your face two days earlier?
*****
Bob hasn’t been able to focus all day.�� Thank god it’s just been classroom work about the physics of flying and not actual flying.
He picks at his lunch and lets the talk in the canteen fade into the background.  He can’t stop thinking about you.  About his date with you.  About the night he spent with you, and then the morning.  About driving you home—the home you share with Jake—and how you turned to him, shy, and brushed a kiss against his blushing cheek before you slid out of his truck and ran inside.
How can he be so happy and so miserable at the same time?  To have had that amazing moment with you, and to realize that you can’t be his.  Bob glances over at the man himself and sees Jake glaring at Rooster—that old, tired rivalry—and Bob feels jealousy lance through him sharper than a knife.
His mind rapid fires through the date like a slideshow, the images cycling in his mind’s eye as he lifts his fork, chews his food without tasting it.  He replays every moment.  He replays every word you spoke, parsing through them for some hidden clue.
Bob finds it when he’s eating a buttered roll.  He remembers what it felt like to make love to you, and he remembers that he wore no condom, and he remembers your words.
I’m clean, Bobby.  I had a test just last month and was clean, so if you don’t want to wear a condom...
He freezes with the piece of bread lifted halfway to his mouth.  His mouth gapes open, and he seizes up and doesn’t move as he considers the implications.  What you said, and what you really said.
You are in a relationship with Jake, and Jake sees women outside of your relationship.  You had an STD test a month ago and felt comfortable enough to tell Bob you were clean.
Ergo, you and Jake have not been intimate in at least a month, which means that perhaps your relationship to the cocky Bagman is not as solid as Jake sells it to the Daggers.
-----
How can Bob be so miserable and so happy at the same time?
It helps when the happiness tips the scales, because that date wasn’t a one-time thing at all.  That evening, after Bob had his realization in the canteen, he gets a text from you.
Thank you again for planning such a lovely date. I had the best time, you write.
The smile breaks across his face like the sunrise, and he’s grinning so hard that he doesn’t have a chance to respond before you send a second text.
If you ever would want to hang out again, I’d love that.
That makes him scoff.  The soft wording of it, if he ever would want to.  As if you haven’t been occupying his thoughts for every waking moment since that date.  As if he hasn’t been praying and hoping for just this invitation from you, this toehold for more.
I absolutely would love to hang out with you again, he replies.
You:  When?
Bob:  Anytime. Sooner the better.
You:  Give me a date and time.
Bob:  Right now?
It’s a joke, but not really.  It’s a joke, but he wants you with him now, wants to soothe the jittery anxiety that comes from having you for a night and then not having you.  It’s a joke, but not really, because you respond with three words that make his pulse race and his mouth go dry.
On my way.
It’s a joke, but not really, because half an hour later there’s a knock at his door, and when he opens it, you’re standing there and neither of you say a word because he opens the door wider, and you step through it.  You step into his arms, and he enfolds you against him, and then your mouth is on his, his glasses are knocked askew, and he’s half-dragging you as you half-push him back into his bedroom. 
There’s no hesitancy this time around; Bob senses no reserve or shyness.  He only feels your hunger that matches his own, a ravenous urge that makes this moment sloppy and rushed.  Neither of you finesse it—he only pushes the skirt of your dress up and tugs your panties down enough.  You only undo his belt, his button and zipper, push his pants and boxers low enough for his cock to spring free.
You both only do enough to clear the obstacles to your mutual goal, and when Bob slots the head of his cock against your entrance, it’s both of you moving as one:  him pushing into you, you pulling him into you.  The moan you loose at the sensation is echoed by Bob, and it’s only afterwards—sweaty, panting, sated—that you finally actually exchange words.
“I’m glad you reached out,” Bob says.  He runs his fingertips up and down your arm, and you nestle closer to him.
Something has changed in you since that first night together.  You’re less uncertain.  Braver.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” you admit simply.
That pulse-racing, dry-mouth feeling returns.  “Yeah?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
Bob swallows hard.  There are a million questions on the tip of his tongue.  Where is this going?  Where is Jake?  What happens next?
Instead, he wraps his arm firmer around you.  “Tell you something,” he says.
“What’s that?”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you either.”
*****
A month passes.  You and Jake even out.  Your relationship finds the sort of easy equilibrium that he always wanted with the open thing—or at least, you don’t seem so morose when he has dates with other women.  He doesn’t hear you sniffling in bed when he comes home late. 
You, though?  Jake can’t quite figure out what’s going on with you, and since one of the rules of this thing is a strict “don’t ask, don’t tell,” he can’t know for certain. 
It doesn’t mean he doesn’t try.
It’s a rare evening when you both stay in.  You make dinner, and the two of you sit and eat.  You chat about your respective days, and when the conversation peters out, Jake clears his throat.
“Have you been…taking advantage of the free pass?”
Your eyes slide up to meet his gaze.  “We said we wouldn’t talk about it.”
“We said we’d never discuss specifics.  This was just a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question.”
You arch an eyebrow.  You say nothing.
Jake stares at you, tries to read your expression.  He weighs the entirety of your relationship.  Everything he knows about you, which is a lot.  His loyal girl, his ride-or-die.  He weighs all of it against this new you who is more at ease with your arrangement, and he concludes that no, you must not be sleeping with anyone else.  You probably just came to accept it from him.  You probably just see the wisdom in letting him let off steam and explore before he comes back to you and settles down.  Your refusal to answer him must just be a way to needle him.
It's the wrong conclusion, but he won’t realize that for a while longer.
-----
Another month passes.  The ease continues. 
Jake relaxes.  That single night months ago must have been an aberration.  Another way of needling him.  He assumes you spent the night at a girlfriend’s place and just chose to act mysterious about it to make him jealous. 
His life finds a blissful rhythm.  He has his home with you, and he’s not so blind that he can’t admit how nice you’ve made his life here in San Diego.  You give him a warm, cozy place to land after stressful days on base.  You give him simplicity, and when he looks across the kitchen table or the couch and sees you there, it makes him feel like he’s been wrapped in a weighted blanket.
Jake’s momma always said he should put a ring on your finger before you left Texas.  “Girl like that is hard to find and harder to keep, Jakey,” she used to say. 
But Jake’s dad always said he should wait before tying himself to any one woman.  “Take it from me, Jake,” he used to say.  “Don’t get your high school girlfriend knocked up and marry her at nineteen.  Live a little before you commit to the ball-and-chain.”
Jake can see his father’s wisdom now (even though he was the cause of that shotgun wedding at nineteen).  This open thing is clarifying what Jake wants for his future.  He’s getting all that latent, restless energy out of his system.  Each stranger he goes home with, each woman he fucks just brings him that much closer to a future where he puts that ring on your finger and promises to only be with you for the rest of his life.
*****
It’s more than just hooking up.
Bob can’t deny it from his side of things, and he has a feeling that you see it the same as him.  The two of you meet up, make love—sometimes frantic, sometimes slow and drawn out—but you also spend time together.
Two blissful months pass from that first date.  You and Bob find time in your schedules where there’s overlapping availability.  For you, that tends to be when Jake is off on a date or at the Hard Deck conquering another conquest.  You and Bob meet up there too, play it cool, pretend to just be the usual friendly acquaintances that you’ve always been…. then once Jake is out the door, the two of you slip out a moment later when it’s clear.
It's all-consuming.  Bob has never been in a situation with a woman like this before.  He feels mad, feverish, hectic when you aren’t around.
He feels mad, feverish, hectic when you are.
He dreams of you, wakes up hard and aching, wakes up feeling like he’s taken a cannonball to the chest.  He holds imaginary conversations with you in his head; he’s driven to near-distraction, and only Nat keeps him in line during his workday. 
Even so, more than once, Maverick has caught him daydreaming, and Bob’s paid for it with countless pushups on the tarmac.
But when you’re with him, he can’t get enough.  He’s become pushier than he’s ever been with a woman before.  Countless times, he fails to get you home before he takes you:  he’s fucked you against the lifeguard stand yards away from the Hard Deck, the ceaseless waves covering up the sound of you moaning his name.  He’s bent you over the sink of the bar bathroom, met your unflinching stare in the water-spotted mirror as he found a fast and hard rhythm that spoke more to the lack of time you had before the other Daggers missed the two of you.  He’s pulled you into his lap in his truck, pushed your panties to the side, pulled you down onto him.  He’s knelt at your feet and feasted on your perfect pussy so many times that he wonders how the other pilots—how Jake—doesn’t smell you on him. 
You’re ravenous for each other, but there’s also sweet moments.  Little mundane moments where your appetites are sated, and you can just be with each other.
The way you run your fingers through his short-cropped hair.  The way you rub the pad of your thumb over the little indents on the sides of his nose from his glasses.  The way you stretch out like a cat, pleased and lazy after sex, and ask him all about his life.  What he was like as a kid, what his family is like.
Sometimes, you ask him where he sees himself in a year, in five years, in a decade.
He never answers those forward-looking questions.  He turns them around on you, echoes the questions back to you.
You never answer them either. 
It’s like both of you are in a stalemate.  Neither of you ever mention Jake by name, and you only occasionally mention him obliquely as him.  The two of you operate in a bubble suspended in time, where your past with Jake doesn’t quite exist and where your respective futures are hazy and unclear.
When Bob lies in bed late at night, alone, he knows how he’d answer you if you really pressed him.
Where does he see himself in a year?  With you.
Where does he see himself in five years?  With you.
Where does he see himself for the rest of his life?  With you.  Always with you.
*****
The Hard Deck is packed.  Javi and Nat play pool, and you, Rooster, and Bob watch them as you chat amiably.
Jake feels relaxed.  He feels good. 
He called his parents over the weekend, and he had a good talk with them.  An honest talk, or as honest as one can have with their parents.  He described work and how well it was going at Top Gun, how things with you have evened and smoothed out.
He hesitates only a beat before he tells them:  he wants to bring you back to Texas for the holidays.  He has leave, and you can take the time off too.  A big Seresin family Christmas.  It has been far too long.
“I thought I might go see her dad,” he mentions too.  “Gotta ask him a question.”
At that, his mother squealed over the line, and his father took a moment to clear his throat, then gruffly added that he thought Jake had turned into a fine man, and that he was proud of him.
Jake feels good.  It feels right.  He glances over at where you stand with Rooster and Bob, the three of you laughing as Javi tries and fails a trick shot.  You look relaxed, almost happy, and Jake smiles to see it.  Hasn’t this been the ultimate proof that the two of you were meant to be after all?  You survived the open relationship, gave him the grace to sow his wild oats, and now—
“You’re hella cool about it, Jake.”  The voice interrupts Jake’s thoughts, and when he turns, he sees Fanboy standing beside him. 
“Cool about what?”
“Your girl.”
An icy finger of dread drags itself down his spine, but Jake hides it behind an easy smile.  “What about my girl?”
Fanboy shrugs and leans against the bar.  “I know you had this open thing.  I just never saw it play out in a way that wasn’t messy.”
Jake’s smile widens.  “She came around in the end.  It was just hooking up.  She always knew she had my heart.”
“Nah.”  Fanboy elbows him lightly in his side.  “I mean, you seem really cool with your girl hooking up with the pussy-eating champion of Miramar.”
That icy feeling of dread sinks into his stomach and settles there.  “What?”
“I’d be so jealous, man.”
“Wait, what?”
Fanboy nods in your direction where you stand with Rooster and Bob.  “You haven’t heard the gossip about him?  Yale’s girlfriend’s roommate dated him way back.  Nothing but good things to say about him.  Said he ate the kitty like a starving kid at an all-you-can-eat buffet.”
Jake has always relied on his lightning-fast reflexes, his quick thinking, but Fanboy’s words move through him like tar.  His mind slows down and refuses to grasp the words, and he shakes his head, tries to clear it.
“What?” he breathes out.
“Cafeteria-style, man.  Boy’s well-fed is what I’m saying.”
Jake’s eyes find you, then slide over to Rooster.  The blond man is saying something that makes you smile—
“Bradley?”  Jake says his name and it comes out rough, a growl.  “You talking about Bradley?”
Fanboy elbows him again, unaware of the way Jake’s world is tilting off-axis, the ground slipping from beneath his feet.
“Nah.  I’m talking about Baby on Board.”  Fanboy turns and looks at Jake, takes in the angry flush along his neck, the way his jaw twitches as he clenches his jaw.  “I mean, her and Bob, y’know?  You knew, right?”
Jake doesn’t answer.  He only shifts his gaze a fraction and focuses on Bob.  Bob.  Of all people, Bob.  Jake narrows his eyes and looks at what he has failed to see for months, and he finally notices that you stand an inch closer to the WSO.  He finally notices that Bob’s turned his body a degree towards you, the faintest bit of angling.
“How did you find out?” Jake manages to grit out to Fanboy.
“It wasn’t really a secret, man.  Harvard…”  He trails off, doesn’t finish the sentence.
“Harvard what?”
Fanboy huffs out a breath, clearly uncomfortable.  “Harvard…saw them.  Once.  They were…y’know.  Out by the lifeguard station.”  He takes a step back and holds up his hands in surrender.  “Don’t take it out on us.  We all thought it was cool with you.  That open thing you have going.”
-----
Part of him doesn’t believe it.
Part of him doesn’t want to believe it.
Part of him—a small, conscience-driven part of him—understands that this is the consequences of his actions.  Part of him knows he’s reaping what he sowed.
But part of him doesn’t believe it.
He pulls himself together.  He waves off Fanboy, says he’s just joking around, that everything is fine.  He goes to the bar and orders a shot.  Throws it back.  Takes long, deep breaths and composes himself.
He doesn’t believe it, but belief isn’t proof.
Once he’s calm, he makes his way over to you.  He takes it slow, casual, and he studies your face when you catch sight of him.  You give him a smile, and Jake thinks Fanboy is full of shit.
Jake makes up a lie.  He tells you that he’s found a friend for the evening, but he uses his usual oblique wording to soften the blow of it.
“I’m heading out early,” he says.  “You good to go home alone?”
Your smile falls a little, but you nod.  Rooster, beside you, lets out a displeased grumble.
Bob says nothing at all.
Jake leans in and brushes a kiss against your mouth, and you tell him to be careful, and he replies for you to be careful too.  Then he turns and leaves the Hard Deck…but when he gets in his truck, he only drives it out of the lot and into the shadows of a nearby cross-street.  He has a perfect line of sight to the door of the Hard Deck, but no one would see him unless they knew exactly where in the darkness to look.
It doesn’t take long for Jake to get his proof.
Ten, maybe fifteen minutes after he moves, you leave the Hard Deck too.  You’re laughing, your smile is so wide it must hurt your face…and right at your heels stumbling behind you, his hands on your waist as the two of you make your way to the parking lot…
It’s Bob.
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brattyfics · 16 hours ago
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Not So Secret Santa
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC
Summary: Eve Dillard’s favorite holiday has lost its sparkle since a painful breakup, leaving her to navigate another lonely Christmas. But when a familiar snow globe from a secret admirer resurfaces, she’s drawn back into the past. The gift leads her to reconnect with Terry Richmond, a high school friend and long-lost crush who’s returned from military service. As their reunion stirs up old feelings, Eve is reminded of the magic of the season and the possibility of rediscovered love.
Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Holiday Rom-Com Coded
Word Count: 11K+
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2024
Christmas had always been Eve Dillard’s favorite time of year.
The cold winter nights were perfect for curling up with a steaming mug of hot chocolate, the scent of cinnamon, nutmeg, and fresh pine wrapping around Eve like a warm hug. Dressed in her favorite cozy pajamas, she'd let the crackling gas fireplace set the mood while losing herself in the comfort of holiday classics. Christmas wasn’t just a season for Eve—it was part of her identity. Her parents had named her after the holiday, and her siblings carried that same festive spirit in their names: Joy, Noelle, and their baby brother, Emmanuelle.
In the Dillard house, Christmas was magic.
Her mother, Diane Dillard, always turned every room into a wonderland, filling it with sparkling ornaments and twinkling lights. The family hosted a Christmas Eve party that felt like a reunion, with friends and family gathered around a table full of treats: rich red velvet cake, fudgy brownies, and the smoothest frosted pound cake you could imagine. Eve and her siblings would stay up late decorating gingerbread houses, listening to the grown folks talk. Those late nights became a tradition that grounded her in the best kind of holiday joy.
But after Eve turned twenty-five, things started to shift.
Five Christmases ago, her on-again, off-again high school sweetheart, Keith, had shattered her heart. She’d tried to move on, ventured back into the dating scene, but each attempt ended in disappointment. With each passing holiday season, dating felt like an even more hopeless endeavor. The men in her age range were either already in relationships or still out here playing games with women’s hearts. Unfortunately, Christmas had become a cold reminder of what she didn’t have. 
Her siblings were all paired off—her two sisters had married solid, loving men and were chasing toddlers around the house. Even her baby brother had popped the question and was planning his wedding. And her parents? Their love was still as strong as ever, evident in the flirtatious teasing and laughter that echoed through the house whenever they bickered. There she was, the odd one out, especially during the holidays, when it seemed like everyone else was wrapped up in their own love stories.
Now, Christmas felt like a series of awkward work parties and forced smiles, nothing like the fun she remembered. If it wasn’t her aunties grilling her about meeting someone new, it was her cousins teasing her about her “bad luck” with men. The office celebrations, planned weeks ahead so coworkers could celebrate before their holiday leave, left the season feeling drawn out and exhausting. By the time Christmas Day arrived, the festivities felt stale, and Eve found herself just going through the motions, making polite conversation while secretly wishing she could fast-forward to January.
This year, things had gotten even more vexing—Eve had drawn Malik from IT for Secret Santa. Malik wasn’t bad to look at, but he spent more time flirting with every woman in the office than actually doing his job. His antics were enough to make Eve roll her eyes, turning the already-dreaded gift exchange into yet another holiday hurdle. Eventually, she settled on a simple set of pens and a plain notebook—safe, practical, and totally forgettable.
Even as she wrapped the gift, Eve felt the weight of monotony. With no new work crushes or dating prospects to look forward to, Eve’s workdays blurred together—endless paperwork, the same beige-gray office walls, and another holiday season passing in a haze of office chatter. It was easy to tune it all out, to just go through the motions. But then the day came—the day for the office gift exchange
“This one’s for Eve!” Ms. Ruby, the vibrant office manager, called out with her signature enthusiasm. At a proud seventy years young, Ms. Ruby was a force of nature, always stepping into the office with bold, jazzy outfits that matched her lively personality. “A gift from my husband, going on forty-something years strong!” she’d say with a wink whenever someone admired her latest accessory. Mr. Charles was forever splurging on a new costume jewelry set or a fresh pair of colorful shoes, each piece a reflection of his love for her style.
Eve rose from her seat, accepting the green gift bag with a polite smile. Maybe she’d never have a husband of forty-something years who appreciated her inside and out, but at least someone had remembered her favorite color. As she pulled back the tissue paper, her fingers brushed against something smooth and solid nestled inside.
When she lifted the delicate snow globe, Eve’s breath caught in her throat. Inside was a Black princess, a tiny crown perched on her head, surrounded by glittering snowflakes—just like the one she’d had as a child but lost during her senior year of high school.
"Oh my god!" Eve exclaimed, her voice filled with surprise and joy. She looked around the room, eyes sparkling. "Who got me this? I love it!" Her gaze swept across her coworkers, but everyone just shrugged, their smiles barely containing their amusement. Eve's eyes locked with Ms. Ruby’s, who wore a knowing smirk, as if she were in on some secret.
Whoever had chosen this gift had clearly gone to great lengths—it hadn’t been made in nearly twenty years. Who knew her well enough to find something so perfect? Who cared enough to hunt down something so meaningful? She dug through the bag for a card, hoping to find a name, but there was only a blank tag.
She shook the globe, and her eyes lit up as the snowflakes swirled around the princess. But then, tucked underneath it, a flash of highlighter pink caught her eye. She picked up the sticky note, the handwriting oddly familiar, but she couldn’t place it right away: 
I hope you like this gift. It was difficult to find, but seeing you smile will be worth it. From your secret admirer.
Eve scanned the room again, but no one said a word—not even Malik, who was wearing that same smug grin of his. Have I ever seen his handwriting? she wondered, cringing at the thought of him being her secret Santa. Still, the gift was too thoughtful to dismiss, and she couldn't help but feel touched. “Whoever did this, thank you so much,” she said, her voice sincere. “This is honestly the best gift I could’ve gotten.”
The mystery lingered with Eve throughout the rest of the day. She couldn’t help but keep glancing around, half-expecting someone to fess up about being her Secret Santa, but no one did. Eventually, she wandered over to Ruby’s desk, hoping for a clue.
“That defeats the whole point of Secret Santa, baby,” Ms. Ruby said with a laugh, shaking her head as she shuffled through some papers.
Eve leaned casually against the back of Ruby's ergonomic chair. "It's only a secret 'til the gift’s out the bag, Ms. Ruby," she teased. “You already went and told everybody else’s Secret Santa. What’s so special about mine?”
Ms. Ruby glanced up from her stack of paperwork, her eyes twinkling with mischief before she moved quicker than Eve could have expected, swatting her lightly on the behind with the pile of papers.
“Ms. Ruby!” Eve yelped, jumping to the side, a surprised laugh escaping her lips.
“I told you to leave me be so I can get some work done!” Ms. Ruby shooed her away, her lips curling into a mock-serious frown. Eve didn’t have to look twice to know the older woman was more about looking busy than actually doing any paperwork. Working was just her way of staying active—keeping her mind sharp, like the rest of her.
As Eve turned to walk away, she grinned, rolling her eyes. “That woman’s a whole mess,” she murmured under her breath, her lips curling in affection despite herself.
Thoughts of her mysterious Secret Santa stayed with Eve the whole way home, nagging at her while she threw together a quick dinner and cleaned the kitchen. She couldn’t help but replay the moment she’d opened the snow globe, trying to figure out who had picked it out for her. But by the time she’d showered and got comfortable for the evening, her mind had wandered to other things—like what outfit she was going to rock on Christmas Day. She was ready to stunt a little, show her cousins what being childless did for her pockets and her closet.
By the time Eve got to work the next morning, she’d managed to push the mystery to the back of her mind. That is, until she sat down at her desk and spotted another sticky note with that same, familiar handwriting:
I’m glad you liked the gift. I knew it’d bring that beautiful smile of yours to life. If you're wondering who's behind it, I’d love to show you. Meet me for lunch at 1:00 PM—there’s a new spot two blocks down, and I’ve got us a table. Hope you can make it, Eve.
Eve bit her bottom lip, torn between caution and curiosity. Meeting someone like this, all wrapped in mystery, didn’t exactly feel safe or smart. Why all the secrecy? Why leave notes instead of just saying it out loud? How did they know about her smile without even being there? Could her Secret Santa have been watching from the shadows all along, without ever revealing themselves? The thought sent a chill down her spine. But in the end, curiosity won out.
Eve made sure to let Ms. Ruby know where she’d be and when to expect her back. Ms. Ruby’s knowing smile eased her nerves just enough as she stepped out into the brisk winter air, the chill nipping at her cheeks. 
As she walked to the restaurant, Eve quickly texted her siblings the details—just to be safe. She wasn’t taking any chances, especially with the mystery hanging over her head.
When she stepped inside the restaurant, her gloved hands folded nervously in front of her, she took in the cozy ambiance. Soft R&B holiday classics played in the background, and the space glowed with candlelight and pine-scented garlands. Couples leaned in close, lost in their own world. Eve hesitated, feeling self-conscious standing alone at the entrance, until a young waitress approached her with a warm, welcoming smile.
"Are you Eve?"
Eve blinked, startled for a moment. "Yeah, that's me."
"Come on, I’ll show you to your table."
With a mix of curiosity and just a touch of apprehension, Eve followed the waitress further into the restaurant. “Where are we headed?” she asked, doing her best to keep her nerves in check.
“There’s a private area in the back,” the waitress replied with a friendly smile, leading her behind a velvet curtain. Despite the uneasy flutter in her chest, Eve pushed her doubts aside. She wasn’t about to turn back now after coming this far.
On the other side of the curtain, a single table was set up in the center of a cozy, golden-lit room. Sitting there, dressed in a crisp button-down shirt and slacks, was a man she hadn’t seen in what felt like ages. His rich honey-brown skin practically glowed in the soft light, and those blue-green eyes of his, sparkling with that same familiar warmth, made her heart skip a beat.
“Terry?” she whispered, the disbelief clear in her voice.
He stood, tall as she remembered, and before she knew it, she was in his arms. She jumped up, and he caught her easily, holding her close as she clung tightly to his neck
“It’s been way too long!” Eve exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over as Terry lifted her off her feet, giving her a playful shake before setting her back down. The little girl inside her couldn’t help but squeal.
"Far too long," Terry agreed, his eyes softening as he met her gaze, holding her just a moment longer than necessary before gently lowering her back to the ground.
Eve slapped his arm, still grinning. "What are you doing here? When did you get back?"
“You haven’t changed a bit, Eve—still running that mouth a mile a minute,” Terry teased, his grin wide as he motioned for her to take a seat. Eve sank into the chair, but her gaze stayed locked on him, still struggling to believe he was really here.
They’d been close since childhood, but after graduation, Terry had enlisted in the Marines, and keeping in touch had been impossible. First, it was radio silence during boot camp, then sporadic updates as he climbed the ranks. Meanwhile, she’d dived into her studies, focused on finishing college and earning her degree, though thoughts of him had never been far from her mind. Every time she tried to reach out, something always got in the way.
Eve found herself momentarily frozen, taking in the scent of his cologne and the sharp look of his neatly styled short Afro. "You look good, Terry," she said, though the word "good" didn’t even come close to doing him justice. He’d filled out in all the right places, his frame broader than she remembered. It was clear the Marines had only made him more disciplined, more focused. The tall, lean teenager she remembered had transformed into a man who was clearly all grown up, his muscular build a testament to the years he'd spent shaping himself.
"You look even better." His gaze swept over her, making her pulse race. Eve couldn’t help the flutter in her chest, but she quickly shook it off. She’d grown into her own as well—filled out, gotten more comfortable in her skin, and her acne-prone days were long behind her. But this was Terry. He didn’t see her that way, and she was far too grown to be stuck on an old crush.
"So, for real, what brings you back home?" she asked, forcing herself to focus on the present.
"I'm done with the service now. Retired," Terry said with a shrug. "Figured it was time to come back home, settle down, and start a new chapter. Everyone I care about is here, so it felt like the right place to make it happen."
"Your mama must be over the moon!"
“Over the moon is an understatement,” he chuckled, the edges of his voice softening. “She wanted to throw me a big welcome-back party, but I told her I’d rather reconnect with folks one-on-one.”
"Well, I’m glad I made the list," Eve grinned. "I ran into your mom a few weeks ago, and she didn’t say anything about you coming back!"
Terry smirked. "She didn’t know yet. Can’t give her too much notice, or she’ll have the whole block—and probably folks from here to California—waiting to meet me at the airport." He chuckled, the sound rich and familiar, making Eve feel that comforting pull of home she didn’t even realize she’d been missing.
Eve burst out laughing. "My mama’s the same way! I hear her on the phone all the time, talking about me like, ‘Evie’s still single, y’all; I guess she’s waiting on Jesus.’" She mimicked her mother’s voice so spot-on it had Terry cracking up.
“What happened with ol’ boy—what was his name again?” Terry teased, pretending to forget. Eve shook her head, rolling her eyes.
“You mean Keith? We called it quits a while ago.”
“What happened? I thought y’all were gonna be the next Barack and Michelle?”
Eve laughed, the humor hitting her differently now. “Life happened. It just wasn’t meant to be, and I’m good with that.” She wasn’t about to dive into the gory details. She’d healed and moved on. Keith was a chapter she’d closed long ago.
“You were way too good for him, anyway.” Eve’s heart skipped a beat, and she wasn’t prepared for the warmth that spread through her at his words.
She raised an eyebrow, suddenly piecing everything together. “Wait a minute—don’t tell me you were the one behind those secret admirer notes?”
“Guilty as charged,” Terry said with a grin. “Figured I owed you a snow globe after all these years.”
Her eyes widened in surprise. “You took my snow globe? I looked everywhere for that thing!”
“I didn’t take it,” Terry admitted, a guilty grin tugging at his lips. “But I did break it.”
Eve gasped, her hand flying to her chest as though he’d confessed to a grand crime. “You broke it?”
“It was an accident!” Terry quickly added, his chuckles softening the blow. “Your dad called you downstairs, and I got a little too close to the shelf. Next thing I know—glass shattering, glitter flying—everything was on the floor.”
Eve laughed, shaking her head, already picturing her younger self stomping around in frustration. But now, the whole situation seemed almost too ridiculous not to laugh about. “How’d you manage to hide it from me?”
“I cleaned it up quick and grabbed a towel from your bathroom. It was fine—except for the glitter. That stuff was everywhere—on the floor, on my hands. But since you never said anything, I figured I got away with it.”
“Terry Richmond,” Eve said with a playful squint, “You’re a whole mess!”
“But I made it right, didn’t I?” His smile was a slow, satisfied curve, his blue-green eyes sparkling with the joy of being so close to her again. “And when I saw that look on your face—”
“Wait, hold up,” Eve interrupted, her eyes narrowing playfully, “You were there yesterday?”
"Guess I forgot to mention it. We're coworkers now. I’m the head of security," He leaned back, his eyes locking with hers. "Been around, making sure everything’s tight," he added with a half-smile. He didn’t mention how he'd been keeping an eye on her from the cameras, just to make sure she was safe from all those corporate threats: staples, paper cuts, and heavy boxes…you know, the dangerous stuff. "It might sound crazy, but I couldn’t come at you until I knew I had made things right between us."
“That damn snow globe,” she mused, a smile tugging at her lips. Who would’ve thought her favorite childhood trinket would be the thing that brought her favorite person back? She reached out, taking his hands across the table. “I would’ve been glad to see you, no matter what.” He squeezed her hands, remembering the nervous flutter in his chest when he’d placed his bid on that snow globe. He wanted her to have it, and he didn’t hold back. “I know. But you deserve that—and so much more.”
Eve rolled her eyes playfully, though there was a flicker of something else in her gaze. “Cut it out with the compliments,” she teased, leaning back in her seat. “I’m gonna be walking around with a big head at this rate.”
“You already got a big—”
“—Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Terrence.”
They slipped into a comfortable rhythm, their banter flowing like it had never skipped a beat. It felt like no time had passed at all, like he’d never left and she’d never hidden the soft spot she’d always had for him. It was clear he still didn’t realize how deep her feelings for him ran. Still, something told her this Christmas was going to be one she’d never forget.
“We should do this again sometime,” Terry suggested as they walked back to the office, his tone casual but the hint of something more lingering in the air.
“Definitely,” Eve replied, but her thoughts drifted back to the past, to all the things she’d buried. The what-ifs. The could-have-beens. For now, though, she was content. Whatever this was, it was enough—for now.
“How about tonight?” Terry surprised her, his voice bringing her back to the moment. “We could grab some dinner, or I can bring something over. You still love that fried rice from Gogi Grill, right?” He grinned, already knowing the answer. Eve had always been a creature of habit when it came to good food. She stopped in her tracks, a smile spreading across her face. “I can’t believe you remember! Of course I still love their fried rice.” She stressed the word love, making sure he heard it loud and clear. “And the—”
“—vegetable spring rolls. Yeah, I know.”
“That sounds so good.” she grinned, feeling a spark of excitement.
“What time works for you?” he asked, already getting his phone out. “I’ll bring it all.”
“Eight?” she replied, figuring that gave her just enough time to get home, unwind, and freshen up.
“I’ll be there at eight. Let me get your phone so I can save my number, and you can text me your new address.”
They walked back toward her desk, and Terry promised to see her later. The rest of the afternoon dragged, Eve barely getting any work done as her mind wandered, fixated on what was coming next. The second five o'clock hit, she nearly bolted out of the office. At home, she was a whirlwind—tidying, organizing, putting everything in order. By the time the doorbell rang, she had just slipped into a comfy graphic tee and yoga pants. No need to impress him—this was Terry.
“Welcome to my humble abode,” she greeted with a grin, stretching her arms wide as Terry’s gaze swept over her. She almost convinced herself she was imagining it.
“Feel free to bring the food to the living room. I’ve got plates and bean bags set up if that’s cool with you.”
“Works for me,” Terry replied, setting down the bags of food. As he dished out their plates, she grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge, uncorking it and pouring them each a glass.
“You still watch those cheesy romance flicks?” Terry teased, flipping through the channels with a smirk.
“No,” she replied a little too quickly, though, she definitely did.
He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “You don’t have to front for me. I know you too well.”
She laughed, rolling her eyes. “You’re right. Can’t hide anything from you.” They eventually landed on a BET romance about a doctor secretly in love with his best friend, and Eve couldn’t help but notice the irony of it all. She thought about asking him to change the channel but decided against it, instead letting out a long sigh, a wave of longing she couldn’t quite explain washing over her.
“What’s wrong?” Terry’s voice softened with concern.
“Nothing,” she said quickly, trying to brush it off, but his eyes told her he wasn’t buying it.
“Something’s on your mind,” he pressed gently. “Is it the food? Or something else?”
“Definitely not the food,” Eve answered, “I guess I’m just not feelin’ the movie. It’s... a little too cheesy, even for me.” Normally, these kinds of stories made her feel all warm and fuzzy, but tonight, it just hit differently—like a reminder of the things she might never have, especially with the man she’d always wanted sitting right next to her, still oblivious to her feelings.
“Really? I think it’s kind of sweet,” he said, and Eve froze mid-bite.
“Sweet? What’s gotten into you?” she teased, her eyebrows arched.
He shrugged, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “When you like it, it’s romantic. But when I do, something’s gotta be wrong?”
She chuckled, shaking her head. “Man, every time I made you watch one of these back in the day, you complained the whole time,” she teased, her smirk growing.
“That was a long time ago. I was just a kid then. I’m a grown man now,” he shot back, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief.
She looked him over, feeling the weight of his words in a way she hadn’t expected. “Alright, grown man,” she teased, trying to mask the sudden shift in her chest. “Guess it just threw me off, that’s all.”
“Why’s that?” he asked, his tone a little more challenging now.
“Because you were never the romantic type,” she said, but even as the words left her mouth, her heart couldn’t help but wonder if that had changed.
“How do you know that?” he shot back, his question hanging in the air like it meant something more. Eve felt a small pang in her chest. Maybe it was silly, but Terry always had a way of getting under her skin.
“I guess I don’t know, Terry,” she admitted quietly. “You’re right. I wouldn’t know what kind of romantic you are. You’ve always treated me like family.” The last words came out with a little more weight than she intended, a quiet bitterness lingering at the edges of her voice. She didn’t want to admit it, but it still stung.
Terry leaned in a little closer, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity she wasn’t used to. “Only because I didn’t know how to be romantic back then,” he said, his voice dropping to something more vulnerable. “Didn’t know how to flirt, didn’t know how to say what I felt.”
Her breath caught, a sudden heat creeping up her neck as he continued, his voice lower now, more serious. “I treated you the only way I knew how. Walked you home every day, carried your bag, made sure to save some of my mama’s fried dumplings for you. It might not have been flowers or poems, but I thought I was making it clear.”
Eve blinked, feeling the floor beneath her shift. “Terry, what are you saying?” The question slipped out before she could stop it, but her mind was already racing—was he really saying what she thought he was?
“I always liked you, Evie. Always,” he said, his voice low and steady. “But I thought... I thought you didn’t feel the same.”
Her cheeks flushed deep, a rush of heat flooding her face at his words. The weight of the confession hit her in waves, stirring up feelings she'd buried for so long. "That’s not true. I was into you, too—really into you."
Terry’s eyes widened with surprise, a small smile breaking through as he processed her words. “But you were with Keith. You got engaged.” He’d seen the engagement photos on social media, and it had torn him up inside. Took everything not to call her phone and tell her she was making a mistake. But he’d convinced himself that the right thing to do would be to step back and let her find happiness without him.
She exhaled slowly, her throat tight with emotion. "He asked me to be his girlfriend... and later, to marry him. At the time, I thought it was what I was supposed to do. You were gone, and I didn’t think I’d ever get a chance to tell you how I really felt," she said, her voice quieter now, as if the words were heavy. "I convinced myself that if I just moved on, I could forget you."
“Are you telling me,” Terry’s laugh was low, almost incredulous, but there was a warmth behind it—like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, “that we both felt this way all along, and I just didn’t see it?”
Eve let out a breath, trying to steady herself. “Yeah, Terry. I think we both did.”
“Evie,” he began, his voice soft, almost reverent. His hand reached across the table, his fingers brushing hers—a touch so light it made her heart stutter. “All these years…” Her breath hitched. She didn’t pull back, but she wasn’t sure how to step forward either. 
Memories flooded her mind, sharp and vivid as if they’d happened yesterday—walking home together in the rain, Terry draping his jacket over her head to protect her crown. Splitting a basket of wings at the local chicken spot after school, making do with whatever change they could scrape together. His loud, carefree laugh always chasing away her bad days, like he could make the world feel right again without even trying. Those moments weren’t just the past, they were the foundation of everything they’d ever been. Terry had always been there, steady as sunrise, holding it down in ways she didn’t know how to name back then. 
His thumb brushed the back of her hand, slow and deliberate, like he was memorizing the feel of her skin. He leaned in just a little, his gaze searching hers, the air between them thick with longing. “Evie,” he whispered, his voice gentle but heavy with desire. “Can I kiss you?”
Her eyes flickered down to his lips before she gave a subtle nod. 
With a tenderness that made her heart race, Terry cupped her face in his hands and leaned in, pressing his lips to hers. They were softer than he’d imagined, and she let out a breathy sigh that sent a wave of warmth through him. His hands slid down her sides, settling on her hips with a gentle squeeze as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. She tasted sweet, like dark chocolate and candy canes—the kind of holiday goodies she loved, and now he couldn’t help but love them, too. Pulling away slowly, his gaze softened, serious now. “Evie, I’m not looking for something temporary. I want something real. Something lasting. Not just for the holidays or a good time.”He let the words hang in the air, searching her face for any sign of hesitation. “This—us—I don't want it to be just another chapter in my life.”
"Terry," Eve whispered, her hand resting gently on his chest before sliding up to cup his face. "This is a lot… all at once. Before we go any further, I need to know we’re really on the same page." Her voice trembled slightly, her guard creeping back up. It wasn’t easy learning to trust again, to let her heart stay open after everything she’d been through. And with Terry... there was no way her heart wouldn’t get tangled up in this. As much as he hated the idea of stepping back, Terry understood where she was coming from. She wasn’t wrong—they had too much history to rush into something without thinking it through. Their lives were intertwined in so many ways: mutual friends, their parents practically family. He nodded, his voice steady and sincere. “I hear you, Evie. I got you. We’ll take this slow—whatever feels right for you.”
In the days that followed, Terry found any excuse to be around Eve. He’d joke about “checking the perimeter” at work, but really, he just wanted to be near her—catching glimpses of her at her desk, looking effortlessly stunning in those blue-light blocking glasses and preppy business casual outfits. He’d leave her little treats—those chocolate “kisses” she couldn’t resist—and sticky notes filled with jokes or random facts to make her smile. And sometimes, he'd offer to grab office supplies for her, like highlighters or paper clips, even though she could easily pick them up herself. It was his way of staying close, of showing her that he was there.
His presence didn’t go unnoticed. The women in the office—Ms. Ruby especially—seemed to flock to Eve’s desk, trying to catch a glimpse of Terry, pretending they needed something just for the chance to see him up close.
“I’m gonna tell Mr. Charles on you,” Eve teased Ms. Ruby one morning, grinning.
“What he don’t know won’t hurt him, baby,” Ms. Ruby shot back with a wink, fanning herself as she smirked. “I’m just lookin’. Ain’t no harm in that.”
Eve and Terry started syncing their lunches, making sure to carve out time outside of the office to be together. Eve introduced him to her favorite local deli, where he quickly became hooked on the sandwiches and pasta salad. One afternoon, they shared a plate of injera at an Ethiopian restaurant while Terry told stories about an Ethiopian guy he’d served with, their laughter filling the space between them as they reconnected and deepened their bond. Throughout it all, Terry was the perfect gentleman—opening doors, pulling out her chair, and offering her bites of whatever he was eating, especially when they ordered different dishes. It was those little moments, the simple kindness in his gestures, that made her heart swell and open to the possibility of a real future with him.
Even though Terry was crashing at his mom’s place until he found his own, most evenings, he was at hers. They’d curl up on her couch, the TV left forgotten as they lost themselves in each other—kissing, cuddling, fingers tracing over bare skin. No distractions, no rush—just being together. On those nights, Terry shared more stories from his time in the service, each one peeling back another layer of the man she was just beginning to rediscover. In return, she recounted the ups and downs of her college years—laughing over the good times and the challenges. She filled him in on her sisters, Joy and Noelle, and how they had both started families of their own. They laughed about how her brother, Emmanuelle, still couldn’t resist sticking his nose into everyone’s business, despite being engaged to the woman of his dreams.
Terry told her about his mom—how much she’d been enjoying having him back at home. She’d been lonely since his dad passed, and had tried to fill that void with "friends" who never quite measured up to Terry Sr. Eve could hear the love and concern in his voice, the way he cared for his mom’s well-being, even as he juggled his own life. Life hadn’t slowed down while they’d been apart, but now, with Terry back in her life, everything felt like it was falling into place.
Moving forward together felt just right, so Eve invited Terry and his mom, Gloria, to join her family for Christmas. It had been three whirlwind weeks since the Secret Santa exchange, but she couldn’t imagine celebrating her favorite holiday without him. Her mom was overjoyed to hear that Terry was back in town, and her dad—true to his warm, welcoming nature—was all for it, always saying, the more, the merrier. Gloria didn’t hesitate to accept, admitting it had been far too long since she’d seen the Dillards and even longer since she’d enjoyed a big family Christmas.
When Christmas Eve finally arrived, the doorbell rang, and Eve opened it to find Terry standing on the porch, holding a foil-covered pan in one hand and shrink-wrapped sweet potato pies in the other. He looked as handsome as ever, dressed in a cream-colored cashmere sweater and navy blue slacks. Beside him, his mother, Gloria, was glowing—decked out in a vibrant red outfit with jingle bell earrings that softly jingled as she smiled warmly.
The sight of them, so full of the holiday spirit, made Eve’s heart swell with warmth.
“You didn’t have to bring anything, Ms. Gloria!” Eve said, smiling brightly.
“I always bake too many pies, baby, you know that,” Gloria replied with a wink. “At least they won’t go to waste this year.”
Eve chuckled, stepping aside to let them in. The moment the door swung closed, a mouthwatering scent filled the air, rich with the familiar, savory spices that brought her back to her childhood. Her eyes landed on the pan in Terry’s hands. “And what’s that?” she asked, voice filled with eager curiosity.
“What you think?” Terry grinned.
“Fried dumplings?”
“Fried up just the way you like them—crispy and golden,” he confirmed.
Eve couldn’t help herself—she did a little happy dance right there in the doorway, which sent Gloria into a fit of laughter.
“I made them just for you, sweet girl,” Gloria said, grinning. “I remember how much you loved these back in the day.”
“You’re the best, Ms. Gloria,” Eve said, pulling her into a tight hug. “Not a crumb of this is going to waste, I swear.”
Before Gloria could respond, a loud, familiar voice rang out from deeper inside the house. “Richmond!” Eve’s brother, Emmanuelle, appeared in the hallway, grinning wide. He made his way over to Terry, pulling him into a big, tight hug and giving him a friendly slap on the back. Terry adjusted the pan in his hand, leaning into the embrace. “Man, where you been at?”
Terry smirked, taking in the scene. “Right where I’m supposed to be, I guess.”
“Well, good to see you back, bro. Ain’t nobody here that can keep up with me on Uno except you.”
Emmanuelle’s loud greeting drew the rest of the family in like a magnet. Within moments, the entire Dillard crew had swarmed around Terry, wrapping him in hugs, back slaps, and warm greetings from every direction. Eve’s dad pulled him into a big rocking hug, her mom gave his shoulders a quick, affectionate pat, and her sisters squeezed him between chasing their toddlers, who zipped around the living room like little caffeinated elves, clearly hyped up on holiday treats. Terry soaked it all in. The Dillard house had always been full of life, and it was a relief to see that hadn’t changed. Some things were different, sure, but the love and warmth that mattered most were just the same.
“Let me take that off your hands, bruh,” Emmanuelle said, reaching for the pan. “I’ll put it with the rest of the food.”
“Uh-uh!” Eve cut in, snatching the pan before he could touch it. “You’re not slick.”
“Slick?” Emmanuelle raised a brow. “Girl, you that greedy? You can’t even trust me to take a pan to the kitchen?”
“I can’t trust you, period,” Eve shot back. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she leaned in close. “Especially when I know you helped break my snow globe.”
Emmanuelle’s face twisted as he tried to recall what she was talking about.
“I know it was you,” she added, her eyes narrowing.
He smirked and turned to Terry. “You told her, man?”
Terry chuckled, shaking his head. “I didn’t say a word. You just outed yourself.” He hadn’t revealed that he was shoved into the shelf, choosing to shield the younger man from being implicated in the "crime."
Emmanuelle shook his head, laughing. “That’s foul, sis. You really out here holding on to something from ten years ago just to call me out? You oughta be ashamed. All this over some food? You that greedy?”
“I have to be!” Eve shot back. “I’ve been dealing with you my whole life. Ashley, I don’t know how you handle this man. He’s been eating entire meals by himself since he was ten.”
Ashley, Emmanuelle’s fiancé, strolled by, tossing her husband a look. “Girl, I just cook double and call it a day.” The room erupted into laughter as the family buzzed around them, settling into the lively chaos that made Christmas at the Dillard house unforgettable.
An hour later, everyone gathered around the table, plates piled high with Christmas Eve dishes: smothered chicken over rice, cabbage cooked with bacon, buttery rolls, and generous helpings of Ms. Gloria’s Carribbean spiced dumplings. The real feast—the honey-glazed ham, collard greens, mac and cheese, cornbread, smoked turkey, and sautéed okra—was waiting for Christmas Day. But tonight, this was more than enough. They joined hands and bowed their heads as the family prayed, offering blessings for their health, happiness, and the year to come.
“So, Terry, when’d you get back, bruh?” Emmanuelle asked, already halfway through a second helping of chicken and rice.
“Been about seven weeks. Almost two months now,” Terry replied, taking a sip of sweet tea.
“What?” Emmanuelle looked up, fork in midair. “Why ain’t I seen you yet?”
“I’ve been laying low,” Terry said. “Getting used to civilian life again.”
Emmanuelle turned to Eve with a mock-serious expression. “Evie, why didn’t you tell me my boy was back?”
She shrugged, trying to sound casual. "I didn’t even know he was back until a couple of weeks ago."
From the corner of her eye, Eve noticed her sisters straightening up, ears clearly tuned in. She knew that look—they smelled tea brewing. When she didn’t respond right away, Emmanuelle leaned in, fanning the flames.
“How’d y’all reconnect anyway?” he asked, eyes narrowed playfully.
Eve cleared her throat, keeping her tone light but firm. “We work together now.”
That should’ve been the end of it, but she could see her brother’s curiosity growing. The last thing she needed was for her family to get too nosy about her and Terry. It wasn’t that she was hiding anything, but it was still too early for outside opinions to complicate things.
“Oh, okay, so you saw him at the office,” Emmanuelle said, smirking. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Why are you grilling me, E-Man?” Eve shot back, raising a brow.
“Grilling? I’m just asking questions!”
“Terry, what are you doing at the company?” her mom, Diane, chimed in, cutting through the sibling banter.
“Security,” Terry replied, pausing to wipe his mouth. “Keeping the building safe and making sure everything runs smooth.”
Joy, one of Eve’s sisters, leaned back with a sly smile. “Didn’t know the corporate world was so dangerous,” she teased, sipping her spiked sweet tea. “Bet all the ladies in the office are feeling extra secure with you around."
Eve shot her a warning look, but Terry didn’t flinch.
“It’s not really about danger,” he explained. “It’s more about protecting sensitive info. Everything’s a target these days.” He paused, letting his words settle as he caught the curious looks around the table. “But it’s a good change of pace from the military. I like it. Plus, I’m saving up to start my own private security firm someday. I want to give other brothers coming out of the service a chance to transition into something solid. Help them find their footing again.”
The table went quiet for a moment, the weight of his words settling over them.
“That’s solid, bro,” Emmanuelle said, giving a nod of approval. “We need more folks doing that. Respect, man.”
Eve caught herself smiling at him, a quiet pride swelling inside her as she watched how effortlessly he commanded respect from everyone at the table. She’d seen it in the weeks since they’d reconnected—the way his presence shifted the energy in any room. People either stepped aside or flocked to him, drawn to his quiet confidence. He set the tone, and it was so damn attractive. Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t notice how the affection lighting up her face hadn’t gone unnoticed by the rest of the room.
“Well, are you single, Terry?” her father, Ed, asked without missing a beat. He’d always had a feeling there was something between his little Eve and the Richmond boy. He’d sensed it even back when Terry was still too young and unsure to act on it. But the man sitting in front of him now was someone he could respect—someone he could trust with his baby girl.
“Dad!” Eve protested, her face flushing. But before she could say another word, Gloria, Terry’s mom, jumped in with a playful grin.
“He sure is!” Gloria chimed in, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Terry shot his mom a look of surprise.
“Really?” Diane, Eve’s mom, asked, raising an eyebrow. Meanwhile, Eve’s siblings were doing their best to hide their snickering. Eve’s little niece sat on Noelle’s lap, eyes wide, watching the exchange with interest.
“You know, Evie’s single too,” Diane added with a knowing smile, leaning back in her chair, clearly enjoying herself.
“Mommy—”
“I’m just saying, baby,” Diane said, holding her hands up in mock innocence. The room fell into an expectant silence, all eyes locked on them.
Eve shot Terry a look, shaking her head. Their families just couldn’t resist stirring the pot. She thought, Black folks and their matchmaking. Terry grinned and casually draped an arm over the back of her chair, giving her a look that said, Forget it. Might as well lean into it now. Several sets of eyes snapped in their direction, keen to catch every little moment.
Eve and Terry exchanged a quiet glance, a wordless conversation passing between them before she finally decided to rip the Band-Aid off. “Well, since you’re all in my business,” Eve said with a sigh, “Terry and I have been seeing each other. Just a little while, though. We’re taking it slow.”
It was like a buzzer went off at a championship basketball game—everyone erupted with hoots, hollers, and excited chatter.
“I knew it!”
“Talking ‘bout I’m not slick– girl, you not slick!”
“That’s why she been dodging my calls!”
Terry’s mom elbowed him playfully, her face lighting up with a grin. “Why you didn’t tell me, baby?” She’d suspected something was up with all the late hours he had been keeping, but she’d kept quiet, not wanting to push him too fast. Now, though, seeing the joy on his face, she couldn’t help but be happy for them. 
Terry looked at his mom, his expression softening as he took in her beaming face. It had been too long since he’d seen her this genuinely happy. He gently covered her hand with his own. “We’re still getting to know each other again, Mama. Taking it slow, ‘cause we want to do it right. Didn’t want to tell anyone too soon, or get your hopes up, just in case.”
“It’ll work out,” Gloria said with a smile that was both warm and knowing. “You’re just like your daddy—considerate, kind, protective, dependable. You’re a good man. Anybody would be lucky to have you in their life. And Eve, she’s a great girl. The best, if you ask me. She knows you for who you are, flaws and all. She’s solid, knows herself, and she’s the kind of woman you want by your side. Y’all can make it work, if you both want to…”
Terry’s gaze drifted to the back of Eve’s head as she laughed and talked with her family, fully in her element. It was magnetic. He couldn’t help but think, She’s the one.
“…and I suspect you do.”
Eve caught snippets of the conversation between Terry and her mom, her own voice blending with the chatter around her. “Yeah, mama, we’ll make it,” she heard Terry say, his voice steady, confident.
“You calling it a night after this? Heading home?” Eve asked when her family finally gave her a break from answering questions.
“That wasn’t really the plan.” Terry smirked, his gaze steady on hers. 
Bet, she thought, fighting the urge to grab his hand and tell everyone they were out.
After dinner, they exchanged Christmas Eve gifts with the family. Eve had gotten Terry a new tactical backpack for his camping trips. He’d mentioned before how much he loved getting away to the woods, disconnecting from the world, and reconnecting with nature. She also picked out a cute elephant trinket for his mom, a nod to Ms. Gloria’s sorority, representing strength and resilience. In return, Terry had gifted her parents a beautifully wood-burned sign that read Dillard Family Home. Her parents adored it, and her dad wasted no time putting Terry to work, hanging it up above the door.
Her nieces and nephews tore through their gifts from Uncle Emmanuelle, too big for them to manage on their own, immediately enlisting the adults to help set up toys, insert batteries, and get the noise blasting from their new gadgets. Eve played the dutiful auntie, pitching in to help get the kids settled before she attempted to make a quiet exit, a little earlier than usual.
Her sisters weren’t letting her off that easy, though. They cornered her near the foyer while Terry helped his mom put on her shoes. “No you don’t, girl,” Noelle whispered, with a mischievous grin, while she and Joy surrounded Eve like two sharks on the hunt.
Eve tried to play it cool. “We need to get Ms. Gloria home before it gets too late.”
Joy leaned in close, her voice dripping with teasing. “Girl, please. We already know what’s up. After you drop Ms. Gloria off, you’re gonna be right back with Terry. I been sneaking around long before you even started.”
Eve rolled her eyes, trying to keep it moving while they giggled behind her.
Terry quickly helped his mom settle into her house while Eve sat in the car, fidgeting in the seat, trying to calm the flutter in her chest. When he stepped back outside into the crisp evening air, she reminded herself to get it together. It’s just Terry. 
The whole ride felt charged, the air between them thick with unspoken words, teetering on the edge of something both of them were ready to step into. Eve caught herself stealing glances at Terry, her stomach flipping each time his fingers drummed on the steering wheel or his lips twitched into a half-smile. By the time they reached the family home and she slid into her car, she could barely keep her composure. The drive back to her place was a blur of thoughts, her heartbeat drowning out the soft hum of Christmas music on the radio. Enough. Enough holding back.
When Terry knocked on her door a little while later, she didn’t hesitate. She opened it, grabbed his hand, and pulled him inside. Without a word, she led him to her room. The space was warm and inviting–signature seasonal scents wafted through the air, and a small four-foot tree twinkled in the corner. Low, sultry R&B Christmas classics filled the room, the perfect soundtrack for everything she wasn’t saying.
“Sit,” she murmured, her voice soft but sure, gesturing to the bed. She opened her bedside drawer, pulled out a small gold-foiled packet, and placed it on the comforter beside him. “I know what I want. I want you. I want us.”
She stepped between his legs, loving the way his strong hands explored the curve of her back and sides as their lips met.  She’d had a quick sip of wine while waiting for him, just enough to quiet her nerves. The lingering warmth of it heightened every sensation, making her feel energized and bold. She gently cradled Terry’s head against her chest, her breaths coming soft and uneven as she tried to steady herself.
“I’ve been all in, Eve,” he said, his voice low and unshakable. “Always.”
She let her fingers trail along his warm skin, grounding herself in the reality of him—not just the fantasy she’d kept alive in her mind. Terry was the dangerous kind of handsome, the kind that should come with a warning label. He kissed her softly at first, but his touch grew more demanding and insistent as she shed her clothes. Eve straddled his lap, moving closer, spurred on by the way he held her—like she was precious, worth cherishing, and meant to be kept all to himself.
“You’re safe with me,” Terry promised, his lips brushing her ear. “Always.”
And she believed him. She melted into his touch, surrendering to the intoxicating thrill—and the quiet fear—of letting herself fall. Of trusting. Of daring to believe this could be the start of something real, as he effortlessly flipped them so that he was on top. "Thought about you like this," she admitted softly, helping him lift his shirt over his head to reveal the firm contours of his abdomen. "On top of me, just like this."
Terry's gaze locked on hers, dark and intense. 
“Tell me what else you thought about,” he said, his voice low and coaxing. He wanted her to let whatever she was feeling spill out. Eve was usually guarded, always careful with how much she gave, but now, with him, she didn’t hold back.
She reached down, her fingers curling around his dick through his boxers. "I’ve been thinking about this," she whispered, her voice thick with desire. "What you’d feel like... what it would be like to have you inside me. I’ve waited so long... I almost don’t want to ruin the fantasy." She teased, biting her bottom lip, a playful spark in her eyes. She could feel it—the way that set him on fire. Terry felt his control slipping. Every part of him was primed, ready to unleash it all on her. "Pull it out and see for yourself." 
Eve wrapped both hands around him, her touch slow and deliberate, as her fingers explored every inch. She gasped softly at how hot and heavy he felt, even thicker she had realized. "God," she whispered, feeling her body respond to the sensation of him in her hand. Her mind raced with thoughts of him slapping that fat tip against her clit. She imagined how he’d feel inside her—wondering if he’d be slow and methodical, or more rushed and rough. Either way, she knew she wouldn’t mind.
Above her, Terry’s breath caught as he tugged his boxers down, guiding her hand to him more firmly. His chest rose and fell as his mind tried to stay clear. She glanced up at him with a wicked glint in her eyes. Spitting a thick glob into her hand, she spread it over him with slow, deliberate strokes. Her eyes never left his, watching him unravel under her touch. His face was tight, eyes flickering between her movements and the ceiling as he groaned softly. The sound stirred something deep inside her.
"You want me to take you in my mouth?" she whispered, her voice soft and sweet, as if she were asking the simplest question in the world.
Terry couldn’t respond immediately. His mind was lost in the heat of the moment, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to hold on. But when her fingers traced over his balls, kneading them with a slow, firm touch, he couldn’t stop the groan that slipped from his lips. She leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the head of his dick, her puckered lips gliding sensually over the slick skin. “It’s so beautiful, baby. Thick, too.” She giggled, enjoying the way his hips stuttered when she tongued the leaky tip.
“You’re actin’ up,” Terry groaned, his breath shaky. With one swift movement, he shifted onto his knees, lining himself up with her mouth. “Open up,” he urged, his voice low with desire. He couldn’t wait any longer. Terry fed her his length, hissing loudly when her mouth closed around him, hot and wet. “Mmm... That’s exactly what I want.” 
Eve surprised him by staring into his eyes as she worked her mouth around his length, brown eyes captivating him like a spell. Her hands moved over him, soft yet taunting until he was powerless under touch. 
"You’re gorgeous, you know that?"
"Yes, baby, keep working those hands—just like that."
“You’re perfect, Evie.” 
Terry groaned, his blue-green eyes locked on her. He could hardly believe he had the girl of his dreams under him, ready and willing to please him. "Nobody’s perfect, but I’ll take the compliment." Eve paused, her hands gently running over him as she caught her breath, wetness gathering around the corners of her mouth.
Terry tugged at her bra strap, his voice low with need. “Take this off.” She shifted, unhooking it, and letting it fall to her lap. He stroked himself, remembering the night she let him play with her titties on her couch. He was worked up from all the kissing with no follow through, and she offered to help him release some of that tension. He kissed her breasts while she sighed and worked her hips against him. He tasted her nipples and she arched her back for more. He teased them with his fingers and his mouth, pinching and tugging until she was rocking back and forth in his lap. She panted while he held her in place, thrusting his dick up into her clothed core until they were both coming in their clothes. He almost stayed that night. She clung to him afterward, silently pleading for him to end their self-imposed misery. It took every ounce of restraint for him to leave, but he couldn’t let her body make a choice her mind wasn’t ready to make. Now, he had no more reasons to resist.
“Lay back,” He ordered, shifting to straddle her waist. The new angle had him right where he wanted to be. Close enough to stroke himself against her soft skin and watch the way she responded to him.
"You want to let it all out, don’t you?" She licked her lips, watching his dick twitch in his hand. "I can see it in your eyes. Looks like it's killing you." The tip was an angry red shade. His balls were drawn tight. Her clit pulsed with desire. “You ain’t gotta hold back with me. I want everything.” She promised, her voice soft and alluring, as if she could sense his every need. Terry’s breath hitched, his control slipping. Every part of him was drawn to her. 
“You’re gonna make me lose it, baby.” Terry’s voice was low, a growl in the back of his throat. He couldn’t think straight, especially when she took him into her mouth again, the heat sending him into a frenzy. Her hands slid over her own body, teasing her breasts the way he liked as she felt the fire building in her. The way he reacted, panting and whimpering pushed her even closer to the edge. “Hold up–” He started, but she was insistent, forcing her throat down his length until she was gagging. Terry’s body jerked above her, and he spilled warm cum into her mouth and then onto her plump breasts without warning. “Fuck, Evie,” He groaned as she chased him with her mouth. He’d meant to warn her, but that greedy little mouth of hers was too tempting. He fell into place next to her, catching his breath. She didn’t seem to care about the mess. In fact, she looked pleased with herself, giggling as he apologized lowly. She told him there was no need. 
"You know we don’t have to pretend with each other, right?" She asked, sensually rubbing his seed into her skin. He watched her slow, seductive movements, wondering how he got so lucky. 
“You’re wild.” He felt his dick stirring to life again. “Sit on my face,” he ordered, guiding her to squat above his head. 
"This position is new for me," she confessed, feeling a flutter of excitement in her belly. “You don’t have to do anything but relax,” Terry hooked his arms under her leg and held her in place. “Leave the work to me,” Terry pulled her down, keeping a firm grip on her legs as he licked between them. At first, it was tentative, a slow exploration as he took his time learning her body, what made her sigh and moan. But soon, desire took over, and he became more urgent, more greedy. She ran her hand over his head, experimenting with the sensation of moving her hips. 
“That feels so good,” She whimpered, loving the leverage the position gave her. Terry seemed perfectly attuned to her every reaction, adjusting his moves based on what made her shiver or sigh. She shut her eyes and quickened her rhythm, breathing heavily with pleasure. With a smirk, Terry took a moment to tease her. “You like when I lick your pussy like this?”
“Yes!”
“Keep grindin’ this wet pussy on my face.”
Eve whimpered.
He encouraged her to move her hips faster with soft taps to her ass. She trembled, unable to focus on anything other than the way his tongue felt. Her eyes drifted down to the sight of him between her legs. “Don’t stop–please don’t stop,” She mewled, no longer in control of her own body. It felt like watching a train wreck, knowing something earth-shattering was coming, but being powerless to stop it. “Terry, please!” She gripped the sheets as hard as her fists would allow, crying out as she reached her peak. 
Terry spoke, his voice a low hum as he repositioned her, but she was too dazed to make sense of anything, still floating back down to Earth.
“You good, Princess?”
She blinked, trying to focus as his face came back into view. "Huh?"
Terry chuckled softly, and she buried her face in his neck, letting her body relax against him.
"Evie?"
She felt his hands slide over her back.
"Hmm?"
"You ain’t about to pass out on me, are you?"
"I’m trying not to..." But he kept gently coaxing her, luring her toward sleep with tender kisses and soft whispers. “But you’re tempting me.” She warned, feeling his dick harden against her stomach all over again. 
She sat up on her knees, rubbing her eyes as she looked at him. "How do you want me?" 
"You’re too cute." He said, patting her bottom softly. “Come get in my lap.”
Terry kissed her sweetly, his dick hardening and prodding at her backside. She reached back to touch it, feeling that it was hard as steel and slick, all over again. “Wow,” She laughed softly between their kisses, feeling the intensity of his desire. “You can't get enough of me, huh?”
“You have no idea.” He looked at her with an expression she couldn’t quite read, the playful tension turning into something more serious. “I want you to know I thought about you every day I was gone. Couldn’t get you out of my head. Imagining you like this... all mine.” He gently smoothed his hands along the sides of her hair, trying to tame the wild curls that had grown bigger with all the sweating and rolling around. “I’d lie on my cot, seeing your face in my mind. Every night.”
"Terry… you really shouldn’t say things like that," she said, her voice soft with sudden shyness.
“Why wouldn’t I?” He challenged. Eve swallowed, feeling the weight of his gaze. Terry had a way of making her feel seen, like all her walls had been torn down, yet she was safe. She took a breath, reminding herself that she could let her heart lead with him. 
"Because I'm falling for you and when you say things like that, it makes it so much harder for me to keep it together."
“Why are you acting like you gotta fight this, Eve?” He tilted his head, his eyes never leaving hers. “It’s us.” He took her hands in his, stilling them. 
“What if I told you I feel the same way?” She could hardly believe he was saying the words she had wanted to hear over a decade ago. Even if this was some strangely vivid dream she’d drummed up as a result of her Christmas Blues, she wanted to soak in every word, every moment. “I love you, Eve Dillard. I’ve loved you for a long time. I’m sure of it. More than anything else in this world.”
“Terry Richmond...” She started, almost at a loss for words. Hearing him declare it so openly made her feel like she was floating in the clouds. “I love you too.”
“Yeah? You sure?” He teased. 
“Uh huh,” She hummed, feeling his fingers splay across her thighs.
“I wanna show you how much. Can I?"
She nodded.
“You want me, Evie?” 
She nodded her head. 
His hand landed firmly on her ass, and she let out a startled whimper as she lurched forward in his arms. The sound shot straight to his dick. "You gotta let me know, sweetheart." 
“Yes, I want you, Terry. All of you.” 
Eve didn’t know what was possessing her, making her so open and submissive. She told Terry he was everything she’d ever dreamed of and that she couldn’t imagine a future without him. He told her she didn’t have to. She kissed him deeply, tasting herself as he alternated smacks on both sides of her ass until he was satisfied and lining himself up at her entrance. Her mouth fell open as he pushed his way inside. “Fuck,” Terry cursed as she clutched his arms with that shocked look on her face. He kissed her lips and then her jaw, all tender and sweet. “You’re okay. I got you,” He promised, groaning when she began to open up for him. His large hands slid down her body, settling over her hips as he began lifting her up and down on his dick. Eve buried her face in his neck, biting her lip as Terry slammed into her. He grunted his satisfaction as she dripped down his length and made a mess.
“You feel so good, Evie.”
“Squeezing me so tight.”
“All mine.”
“Give it to me, Princess.”
His words pushed her closer to the edge until she could hardly breathe, gripping his neck and shoulders like he was her lifeline. “You’re drivin’ me crazy!” She moaned into his ear, her walls squeezing around his dick. “Good,” Terry grunted, “That's how I want you. Crazy about me and this dick.” Her eyes rolled back as he pumped his hips harder, the strain in his voice evident. “You were made for this dick, just like I was made for this perfect little pussy.” He poked something inside of her that made her holler. But Terry was shushing her, holding her tight to his chest and cooing in her ear. "Let it happen, baby. I got you. I know what you need. You can take it."
She placed her hands flat against his chest. His grip on her hips were still iron tight. "C’mon now, Evie. Be good to me. You wanna make me feel good, don’t you?" His words worked the way he intended. She surrendered, laying her head across his shoulders and holding on for dear life as he worked her over. "That’s it, baby. I told you you were perfect. How you feel now?"
She dug her nails into his skin and concentrated on keeping her eyes from crossing. You know how it feels, you bastard! She thought, but the only words spilling out of her mouth were sweet and agreeable. She told him how good he felt, how no one else had ever made her feel that way, and that she wanted him to make her feel that way for the rest of their lives. He told her that he loved her and she was the only one for him. She cried, warm teardrops spilling over his skin as she came, yelling his name. Terry held her in place, capturing her lips in another long kiss as he finished, wishing there was nothing in between them.
Eve’s head rested against Terry’s chest, her body limp from exhaustion. Breathless and completely satisfied, they stayed close for several minutes, catching their breath. Slowly, Terry began to stir, pressing a soft kiss to her damp forehead.
"You good, mama?"
“Mhm,” She mumbled, nuzzling into his neck. “I'm just...worn out." She said, her voice heavy with exhaustion.
“Me too,” Terry admitted, his hand caressing her back softly. He never wanted this moment to end. When she opened her eyes again, his gaze was on her, focused and intense. It took her breath away.
“Why you looking at me like that?” 
“Take a guess,” he murmured, his voice low and husky.
She didn’t need to guess. Everything between them—every unspoken desire—was no longer hanging in the balance. It had all become real. Her thoughts wandered to the future—wedding rings, little feet running around. “You want to marry me and have five babies?” she teased, the words slipping out before she could stop herself.
Terry raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “You think that’s funny, huh?” She shrugged, her fingers gently tracing his jawline, “Guess I’m funny and fine.” His smile widened, his gaze filled with something unreadable. “Be careful what you wish for.”
Her fingers gently caressed his mustache, her voice a soft whisper as she murmured, "I love you, Terry. I really do."
"I love you too, Evie.”
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2025
Christmas Eve had always been special, but this year, Terry was determined to make it unforgettable.
Eve turned away from the window where she’d been watching the snow fall gently outside. It was a rare sight in the South, a phenomenon that only happened once or twice a decade, and she cherished every second of it. Terry had left her by the window, disappearing into the bedroom, only to return a few moments later, standing by the gas fireplace with a small, neatly wrapped box in his hands.
“What you over there scheming?” she teased with a curious smile.
Terry looked over at her, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed the nerves he was trying to hide. “Come here, babe.”
Eve took a step closer, her curiosity piqued. “What’s this? You acting all secretive now?”
Terry extended the box to her, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Just open it and see.”
Eve carefully untied the ribbon, peeling back the wrapping paper to reveal a delicate snow globe. She lifted it, tilting it slightly to watch the glittery snow swirl around the two tiny figures inside. At first, she thought it was just a beautiful decoration, but as she took a closer look, the details caught her eye: the woman inside wore a dress that looked remarkably like the one she had worn the year before on Christmas Eve, and the man was down on one knee.
“Hold up... is this us?” Eve gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as tears welled in her eyes. She looked up at Terry, her heart pounding. “Terry! Where did you even find something like this?” She knew it wasn’t something you could just pick up at a store. It was clearly custom-made.
Terry stepped closer, his deep brown eyes searching hers with a quiet intensity. “I wanted you to have something special, something that showed you just how much you mean to me. Every detail, every piece of it... is us.”
Eve’s tears spilled over as she held the snow globe close to her chest. “Terry…” 
He gently took her free hand, sinking down on one knee in front of her, mimicking the figurine in the globe. She stared at him, her breath catching, as he pulled a small black velvet box from his pocket.
“Eve, you’ve been my everything from the moment I met you. It took too long for me to face that, but now, I can’t imagine my life without you in it. Will you marry me?”
She nodded, tears spilling over before she could even speak. Her voice was thick with emotion as she whispered, "Yes, baby, yes."
Terry stood, pulling her into his arms as she laughed and cried at the same time. The snow globe rested safely in her hand, the tiny figures inside capturing the essence of their love—timeless, unwavering, and entirely their own.
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A/N: Happy Holidays! Divider by firefly-graphics. The themes included were for storytelling purposes only. The holidays can be enjoyed with family, friends, or even on your own.
Tag List:
@nayaesworld
@nahimjustfeelingit-writes
@sageispunk
@megamindsecretlair
@blowmymbackout
@kindofaintrovert
@avoidthings
@zillasvilla
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@blackchickinthedesert
@thevelvetwhispers
@teeresaresa
@cocoagadgetsworld
@daddiespamm
@virgosapphire79
@invisiblegiurl
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weirdo-from-bonesborough · 2 days ago
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no-ageing!au where billy's like a stable of the teen heroes. robin appeared around the same time billy did, so of course the 12-year-old billy got stuck babysitting the 8-year-old dick. but then dick grew up, and babysitting became hangouts. and more sidekicks came on the scene for billy to run around the watchtower with. but then they started to care about dating instead of video games and their school work was too complicated for billy to help with and he was all alone again. for awhile there was jason and danny and eddie, and then there wasn't. young justice tolerated him for a bit until the age gap started to grow and he was deemed to immature. everybody loves billy, thinks he's reliable and unchanging, fondly remembering how he made kids with the weight of the world on their shoulders laugh. so they send damian and jon and irey and jai to be his friend and even though billy is having fun he wonders why he even bothers getting attached anymore
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thisismenow3 · 2 days ago
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This is a huge cop out in two very specific and obvious ways.
One, the media kept showing him so that his charisma could work on swing voters even though the way to deal with firehosing propaganda is to turn off the spigot. And it really is the media at large, a few legacy publications would MOSTLY stand against him but there was way too much of how the legacy media treats republicans before and now; “well of course they’re gonna do this, let’s rag on everyone and everything that hasn’t immediately fixed the problem.”
That last part gets into point two; the media from the written legacy news outlets to the even worse televised outfits (from local to msnbc and cnn) all had badly misinformed the public by doing piss poor journalism for decades. It’s no wonder that people can’t stomach thin pieces not in depth investigative reporting when the news feeds a steady stream of skewed reality with “bleeds it reads” and “let’s just make false equivocation our central model cause reporting is apparently just doing poor polling methodology.” Before you even get to the ways editors and producers bent reporting away from informing people on real solutions on how the world really is with police, labor, healthcare, taxes, etc, you have to contend with the fact that the people hired to the top papers and every news desk were hired because they see value in piss port approaches to journalism. They see value in “boff sides!” everything because chasing the impossible “free of bias” as a personal goal eclipses the professional and institutional primary objective of “inform.” If I’m focusing on the wrong things I’m not building an actual approximation of the reality I’m hoping to convey.
Now add to this that most people don’t tune into news in the same way most people don’t floss. So every “but her emails!” every “Donald became presidential today!” every “we could cover all Biden’s progressive policies and their downstream impacts if it’s more fun to wildly speculate about his health!” has repercussions when it’s most likely one of the only news pieces tens of millions of adults in this country tune into. “This is a threat to democracy!” rings hollow to they engaged when everything about how the news media is operating is the exact same as 5 years ago, 10 years ago, 20, etc.
We got here because republicans have overall won the last 40-50 years. From real integration barely ever happening to schools getting worse from conservative policy making every decade to work and organizing getting worse and less, to news outlets phoning it in and patting themselves on the back as if the ten percent of times they actually try at all fixes when they don’t or that it matters when their whole core idea of their job is flawed in such a crucial way… we got here because conservatives understood that you can lose certain battles but you win wars by digging in on certain ones until they go your way. We have had some policy gains but the central premise since Reagan has been to make us less of a democracy and make government more conservative in other ways too. They e always had that. And the press being out to lunch and/or in bed with this agenda is part of how we got here.
Of course this is partially the press’s fault! Y’all couldn’t handle the machinations of the neo con’s decades ago you can’t handle the apotheosis of that which is Trump.
Lastly, the “most Americans” thing ain’t true. Trump got barely more voters than last time, the same is true for most other races republicans won. But way fewer white middle to upper income people from 30-50 voted at all this election compared to 2020. Our country is getting shafted now because a lot of smaller demographics make up the majority that is most voters being non conservatives while conservatives have fewer demographics making up their coalition AND institutional advantages. One of which is a media that has become an easy plaything for conservatives from Rove to Musk and Rogan. Do better journalists at elite institutions
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aniesvision · 3 days ago
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𝟐𝟗- 𝑳𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍
𐂂 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜 𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚘 𝚡 𝚏!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛
𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 (4289 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔), 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒂 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏, 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕, 𝒓𝒆𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏, 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌, 𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 (𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒃𝒂𝒅), 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆, 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒖𝒕, 𝒔𝒎𝒖𝒕, 𝒅𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒚 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌, 𝒑 𝒊𝒏 𝒗, 𝒖𝒏𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒅 (😠), 𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒇!𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇
𝚊/𝚗: 𝒊𝒕 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒎𝒆 𝒔𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒘𝒆𝒊𝒓𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒘 ☠︎︎ 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆, 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 ☕︎
𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒂 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒏 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒏, 𝒓𝒆𝒋𝒆𝒄𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒈𝒉 𝒔𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒉 𝒂𝒅𝒖𝒍𝒕𝒔.
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small words: backstory | normal words: nowadays
🍂
All the kids were reunited in the garden, playing, talking, laughing. The teacher looked at all the little ones, making sure they were safe and using their creativity. At that age, there wasn't much space to learn about love, but you, with your little arms and hands, were happily laid on the ground, legs swinging back and forth as you wrote an almost intelligible letter to one of your classmates.
"i like you more than i like my best doll!"
It was your way of telling him you wanted to get to know him, to play together, share your toys and communicate. You stand on your feet, walking towards him and poking his arm. When he turned around, you extended both hands, giving him your handmade letter. It took him a few seconds to understand what was that, but the way he laughed at the piece of paper immediately made your face shift to a sad expression.
He made fun of you in front of everyone, the teacher made him apologize, but months passed and your classmates still made fun of you because of it.
🍂
You're a rebel, stressed, sad teenager. Your ideal day is staying in, alone, watching Supernatural or some "freak shit" as your parents call it. You don't really have friends and you prefer to sneak out late at night to take long walks and enjoy the moonlight. You don't do drugs, smoke, drink or date. You're a very reserved person and to explain why you don't want anyone around ever: you're scared of talking to people.
You only talked to people whenever you needed to or when it was random talk, not ever expressing your feelings or talking about what you like, what you want, what you do on your weekends.
That same guy who destroyed your heart when you were only a baby, barely a child, was the same one you'd still look at in class. Not even the heartbreak was enough to push your feelings away, and that was embarrassing. You never talked to him, and managed to be very discreet whenever you looked at him, but it was still stupid.
In high school Chris became the funny, cool kid, a lot of girls wanted to be with him and he was (obviously) the hockey team captain. You were just the weird kid, the one people didn't even know existed even though most of you studied together since kindergarten.
You didn't want to make yourself seen, so you didn't go to parties, didn't go out, didn't do extracurricular activities, didn't go to games or other high school things. You were almost like a ghost.
Eventually you made one single friend, it was inevitable, she insisted and you eventually made an exception. She was nice, and talked too much, which gave you the opportunity to stay silent. You went to your first party ever after she begged you so much to go with her that you felt bad, and little did you know that day was going to be your revenge day.
You and your newest friend were leaning against a counter in the kitchen, she was talking nonstop and you were observing your surroundings. Your eyes quickly met his, and for the first time since kindergarten you felt like he saw you too. Your heart was about to leave your body through your throat when he walked in your direction, trapping you in between him and the counter with that same smug smirk on his lips.
He didn't remember you. And he tried to flirt with you. You wanted to say yes and make out with him right there, but it would shove all your years of suffering in the trash. The realization of what you did only came by when you turned him down and made people around laugh at him for being rejected for the first time ever.
School was finally over, you kept in touch with the friend you made and years passed without you having any knowledge of what happened to Chris.
And then, you saw him, the same blue eyes through your computer screen. He looked better, happier, all grown up. And when you saw he was loved and cared for by the internet now it didn't shock you.
Your one friend once again dragged you on a girl's trip with her. She wanted to finally embrace her new age of 21 and go crazy in Las Vegas, and how could you say no to her? You decide to explore alone when she goes to a casino, both of you expect them to let you in even though you were months away at 21, but of course they didn't, so that leads to you buying some tickets to a random event called Power Slap.
And life knows how to surprise you. Your seat was next to no one other than him. Your eyes meet his, your heartbeats race and he smiles at you. He. Smiles. At. You. What are the odds?
-Guess you're following me now, huh? -He asks, with a cocky sarcastic tone.
Although you were blushing, you still managed to roll your eyes and scoff.
-You wish.
-So you're into violence, I see. -He nods to the ring, legs slightly spread.
-I don't mind violence when it's for fun. -You reply, involuntarily allowing him to use his imagination.
-Hope you had fun violently turning me down in high school. -He shrugs.
He remembers this. Of course.
-I did. Did you have fun breaking my heart in kindergarten?
You look at him with one eyebrow raised, sitting in your designated chair and crossing your arms and legs.
He seems to think for a few seconds, confused when a light finally appears above his head.
-You're the letter girl! -His mouth opened in shock, but there was still an amused expression on his face.
-Unfortunately. -You basically whisper, turning your head in the direction of the arena, the blue colors of the stadium illuminating your face with the minimum effort you made in putting on some natural makeup.
Chris's eyes scan all your details, in silence, the smirk slowly growing back. He shifts in his seat, adjusting his hat.
-I still have it, you know? -He says, now looking at the arena too.
You furrow your eyebrows at him, not believing his words at all, and he notices it without having to look at you.
-It's back in my place, in L.A.
It was obvious you weren't believing him yet, so you decided to ask questions, if he was lying you'd find out.
-You're in L.A now, then?
He hums in response, nodding to his side.
-I live with my brothers, well, not with Justin, but Nick and Matt. We were invited to watch the event.
"Oh, right, he's a youtuber now." you remember.
-How fancy. -You tease, turning your attention back to the ring.
-Why are you here? -He asks, seemingly curious.
-It's my friend's birthday, but I can't go with her to the casino so I decided to watch whatever this is to pass the time.
He chuckles next to you, eyes not leaving your figure like he was examining a piece of art.
-Why did you keep it? -You finally asked what you wanted to know.
-I liked it. -He shrugs, with a small smile.
You looked at him, narrowing your eyes, and as much as you wanted to punch him in the face, you couldn't exactly bring yourself to do it.
-Yeah, so much that you made everyone make fun of me for years. -You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest.
-You had your revenge, didn't you? -He smirks, clearly amused.
You don't even respond, anger consuming your body. Suddenly the Power Slap event seemed interesting. You tried to pay attention to the hoster, the loud screams, and the show of lights. The amount of things going on made you nervous, but you didn't want to feel bad again because of one simple conversation.
The first competitors get in the ring, waiting for the sign to start before slapping each other's faces. It caught your attention, at first you thought "why would someone do this?" and then you were cheering with the crowd and wanting to see more.
-Where are you staying? -Chris leans to ask, when the first victory was announced.
-Why? Want to spend the night with me? -You tease, unamused, looking at him and arching an eyebrow.
-Maybe. -He smirks again, licking his lips and scanning your face.
-I'm not available. -You reply, giving a look at his brothers who were nosily watching the conversation.
-Yeah? You're dating or something? -He insists.
"Why does he have to be so annoying? If I knew this in kindergarten I'd never write that stupid letter" you think.
-No, just not interested.
He chuckles, of course his brothers were talking about it in their seats as well. The lovely Chris Sturniolo being turned down once again, by the same girl.
-C'mon, I want to make up for being an asshole in kindergarten.
He leans even closer, ignoring his brother's teasing and placing his arm behind your chair, turning his entire body to look at you. You study his expressions, thinking about his words. Even though you're sharing a place with your friend, you still have your own room. But, it's Chris, out of all people. You should hate him, although you're kind of even.
-You can ask me to leave anytime. -He assures.
"I can't get out of this situation without hating myself with any decision I make, so I might as well make the worst one."
-Fine. -You sigh, picking up your phone and checking the time.
-Give me your number. -He gives you his phone. -In case we get lost.
You roll your eyes again, typing your number on his phone and handing him back.
𖧷 𝐹𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡 𝑃𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛 𖧷
We didn't talk too much, just a few comments from him whenever something happened in the event, but I was patient enough not to drag him to the ring and slap him myself.
When the event was finally over I texted my friend to know if she was still at the casino, but got no answer. I stood up to leave and next to me, Chris was saying his goodbyes to his brothers, actually following me without saying anything until we were back on the street.
-I can pay for the uber. -He says, handing me his phone with the app already open.
I don't even try to say otherwise, typing the hotel name. I hand him his phone back and cross my arms, feeling the cool wind hitting my skin.
-So, what have you been doing? -He asks, placing his free hand in his pocket.
-College, and working on a library. Didn't get so lucky as you did. -I look at him, a small smirk growing on his lips.
-You've seen my videos? -He raises an eyebrow at me, like knowing I've seen him was somehow funny to him.
-Not exactly, I've seen some cuts.
He nods, eyeing me up and down, but turning his head to the other side. We stay silent and soon the uber arrives. He opens the door for me and sits next to me, glancing at me every now and then. I didn't want to talk to him more than I needed to and he seemed to notice it, not pushing my patience.
We get into the hotel and I search for my room keys in my purse, opening the door and turning on the lights. I pick up my phone to read the text my friend sent me back letting me know she was still in the casino and she'd be out for a bit longer. I sigh, walking to my room and hearing Chris's footsteps behind me. I throw my purse on the desk, turning around to look at him, his eyes scanning the room and closing the door.
I sit down, starting to undo my shoes.
-You know, you were the first girl to reject me in my life. Definitely not the last, though. -He steps forward, taking a seat next to me.
I laugh, pushing my shoes to the side. He still dares to just speak whatever comes to his mind.
-Someone had to. -I shrug, taking off my jewelry now.
He stares at me with attention, moving his arms back to prop him up.
-I thought you liked me more than your best doll. -He teases, making me stop what I was doing and basically freeze.
My cheeks blush as I recognize his words. He truly remembers. He still remembers my letter.
-That was a long time ago. -I whisper, still shocked that he said those words to me.
It doesn't make sense, why would he remember it? Why do I care so much? Did it stick to his head without him meaning to or did he read it again after that?
-But you wanted to kiss me back, I know that. Why didn't you?
I hate him. I hate this. Why did I let him in? Why did I let him come back to the hotel with me?
I stand, walking to my suitcase, looking for comfortable clothes to sleep in. He follows me with his eyes, taking his own shoes off. I grab a large t-shirt and pajama shorts, giving him a quick look.
-Maybe I didn't. -I reply, getting in the bathroom connected to the room.
I change quickly, also taking off my makeup before leaving. I was nervous, I shouldn't be, but it was hard to be okay in this situation. The worst of all is to know that even years after I still feel so nervous around him. I had my revenge, my crush went away, but he was right there and this makes me confused.
He was using his phone but his eyes met mine as soon as I opened the door. The same gaze I felt all night, scanning my body like he had never seen a woman before. I sit down with my back resting against the headboard, avoiding looking too much at him.
-I didn't just come here because I think you're pretty, I actually want to know you. -He turns to face me, scooping slightly closer. -If you let me, of course, I can always just go away, I don't want to make you uncomfortable.
I ignore my heartbeats, meeting his blue eyes and allowing myself to let my guard down, at least a little bit.
-You're not making me uncomfortable, I'm just not used to this.
Chris smiles, hesitatingly reaching his hand to touch mine, waiting for any sign of discomfort, but I let him grab it and he immediately interlaces our fingers. His hand feels so soft and warm, it's almost familiar, although we never held hands before. I don't really know what is it that I'm feeling, but it's scary.
-Well, we can just talk, I don't mind. -His thumb caresses mine. -And I think I owe you an apology, I didn't mean to make our colleagues make fun of you, I was just a dumb kid.
I giggle, crossing my legs to get more comfortable.
-I guess I get it. Why did you keep it? The letter.
-I meant it when I said I liked it. -He shrugs, with a smile. -The first letter I ever got from someone, first love letter, first rejection, all from the same girl. Not a common thing, y'know?
He laughs, making me laugh as well. I didn't mean to get comfortable with him, but for some reason, he reminded me of the little version of him. Seeing him again after so many years makes it hard to deny that yes I liked him for too long, from kindergarten until long after school ended. Even when I rejected him, it was my revenge, but also my biggest regret.
-Well, you were the first person I wrote a letter to, a love letter, and the first guy I rejected, so... -I shrug.
-First guy you rejected? -He asks, with disbelief.
-Guys didn't exactly try anything with me, Chris.
-That's crazy, you were always mad hot. -He shakes his head, making me laugh at how naturally he said it.
-You're an idiot. I don't know how you didn't get rejected before me, but you must've liked it if you're back for more. -I tease a hint of amusement in my voice.
-You didn't reject me tonight. -He smirks, leaning closer with his same old confidence.
-I still can reject you. -I smile, trying my best to act nonchalant.
But I was so close to passing out. Time did him so good, he's being nice, my feelings are all over the place, he has always been my one and only crush and it's weird that I've never felt interested enough in anyone else. Seeing him was a coincidence, but made me hope that it was destiny instead.
Hating him seemed easier, but I just couldn't hate him now, not when he was... well, being him.
-But you won't. -His voice is lower, but firm.
I stayed silent, too nervous to speak, his eyes scanning my face to make sure I was okay with every move he made. His free hand scoops closer to me, stopping next to my hips on the bed, his other hand holding mine and his body leaving towards mine, making our faces get so close that I could see his freckles.
-At least I hope not. -He completes, his eyes dropping to my lips.
What do I do now? Why does he look even better up close? Why is my heart racing so bad? It's not possible that my feelings came back so easily, is it? Why can't I move? He's getting closer, his lips look so kissable.
His hand leaves mine, reaching my cheek and brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. He scoops even closer to me so now his legs are touching mine and without waiting too long he finally presses his lips against mine.
And I don't push him away.
The kiss is slow and delicate at first, almost shy. But soon we let our feelings get involved and it's different, it makes me feel butterflies, and it makes his free hand squeeze my hips, pulling me even closer to him.
We pull away to breathe and he caresses my cheek, smiling at me.
-I waited so long to do this. -He chuckles, making my heart melt.
All my efforts to push him away and to stop liking him were useless. My heart wanted him again.
-So do it again. -I whisper, letting myself wrap my arms around his neck.
He immediately kisses me again, his hands exploring my body with no shame, fingertips running up and down my uncovered thighs. He asks permission to slide his tongue in and I let him, his arms effortlessly pulling me to his lap, my legs on each side of him.
-I don't mean to rush things, but I want you so fucking bad. -He mumbles against my lips, lowering his kisses to my neck.
I tilt my head to the side, giving him more access and letting myself enjoy this, I waited longer than he did to feel him close to me.
-I'm all yours. -I whisper in his ear.
His groan was audible and he turned us around so now I was laying on the bed on my back and he was hovering over me. He gave me no time to even process what was happening before kissing me again, this one full of desire and need, his hips grinding against mine and one of his hands lifting my leg to wrap it around his waist.
I slide my hands under his shirt, feeling his skin and leaving light scratches on it. Our lips only separate for him to take both our shirts off, making the moment even more intimate.
His lips lower to my neck, collarbone, and the valley of my boobs, biting my skin to leave purple and red marks all over it. I could barely wait to feel more of him, my own hands unclasping my bra and throwing it on the floor as he kept the assault on it. Chris's eyes scan my bare breasts like it was the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.
-You're perfect. -He whispers, swirling his tongue around my nipples.
I moan softly, reaching for his hair and pulling him even closer to me. It's hard to believe that this is happening. His hands feel perfect on my skin, his hair is soft, and his kisses are addictive.
After giving the same amount of attention to both my nipples and leaving more purple marks, he lowers himself in between my legs, looking for permission before sliding down my shorts and panties at the same time, throwing them aside. His breathing hitches as he looked at me, licking his lips and squeezing my thighs with his hands.
-So perfect. Even prettier than I thought you'd be. -He whispers, kissing the insides of my tights.
I didn't even have to ask him to do anything, his tongue quickly licking a stripe from bottom to top, sucking my clit gently. I grip his hair tightly, arching my back and moaning at the feeling, encouraging him to keep going.
Chris eats me out like he is starving, adding a finger to increase the pleasure. As my moans grew louder, his pace got faster, his mouth working on me perfectly.
-Fuck, Chris. -I whine, my legs starting to shake.
A smirk shows up in his face, his eyes meeting mine.
-My name sounds so good coming from your lips.
He pulls his lips away, adding another finger and thrusting them into me even faster. My walls were clenching around them, his fingertips curving to hit that perfect spot, the sounds coming from me turning both of us on even more.
My orgasm hits me like a train, his lips meeting mine to muffle my loud moans. Groaning against my lips, he takes his fingers off me, using his hand to unbutton his pants.
-Fuck, need to be inside you right now.
He kneels in between my legs, pushing his pants and boxers down. My eyes widen a bit when I take a look at him, he was bigger than I imagined he'd be. I bite my lips, admiring his body as he hovers me again with a smirk on his lips.
-You good? -He asks, with a hint of amusement.
I simply nod in response, wining when I feel him sliding his tip up and down my folds. There was no room to talk before he aligned with my entrance and pushed all of him in at once.
-Oh, fuck. -I crave my nails on his biceps, eyes rolling back.
-Shit, you feel so good. -He sighs, waiting for me to adjust to his size.
He starts thrusting at a slow pace, using one of his arms to keep him up and the other to keep my head still, wanting to make things truly intimate with eye contact. All of me was so sure at that moment that he was all I'd ever wanted and all I'll ever want.
-You're so pretty. -He whispers, cupping my cheek gently.
-You're perfect. -I answer, without thinking too much, pulling him into another kiss.
His thrusts became deeper and faster, his muffled sounds turning me on so much that it didn't take long for me to feel another orgasm building up. When he pulls away from the kiss, he buries his head on my neck, biting and kissing it as he fucked me like no one else.
-Chris, so close, don't stop. -I cry out in pleasure, wrapping my legs over his waist.
It only makes him go deeper, groaning in my ear and moving his hand from my cheek to my throat, choking me lightly.
-Give it to me, cum all over my dick. -His voice is low and hoarse, getting me even closer.
A few more thrusts and I was making a mess for him. My moans were loud, my body was squirming and my legs shaking, my walls clenching him so hard that it led him to his own climax, painting my insides in white.
We take a moment to capture our breaths, panting heavily with him still on top of me. He pulls away, collapsing next to me.
-Are you still in Boston? -He asks, turning his head to look at me.
I look at him. His hair was damp and messed up, his cheeks pink, his face and body sweaty, and he still looked perfect to me.
-Yeah, still in Boston. -I agree, smiling at him.
-Good, I really want to keep seeing you. -He smiles back.
-I thought you were in L.A. -I say, confused.
-We go back to Boston a lot, and kind of live in both places. I can see you anytime I'm back there, if you want to, of course.
-I'd love to.
He pecks my lips, helping me clean up and put my clothes back on. We take a moment to eat and talk normally before going back to my bed, where he spent the night with me.
Fortunately he kept his word. We texted every day and when he traveled back to Boston he asked me to hang out.
Unfortunately for my friend she heard a lot that night in Vegas that she shouldn't have when she came back to the hotel. But at least she's still my friend and she's happy that I'm finally with the only guy I ever loved.
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𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 ✍︎
➪ @riowritesitall @sturniolosarethebest @hyacinthst @deers4luv @sturncakez @watercolorskyy @delooshunalhoe @sarosfilms @blahbel668 @sturniyolo69 @sturniolosl0t @colbsposts00 @fallingforfalll2 @stvrnmc @faithlia @katie-tibo @monroesturnns @mattnchrisworld @shaquilles-0atmeal @fratbrochrisgf @dayzeandhaze @phimstarz @h3arts4harry @star-yawnznn @asherrisrandom @pip4444chris @sturniolo-fann @beansprout713 @conspiracy-ash @sturnsxbitvh @ivysturnss @mattsbitch @larallott
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writingredrose · 2 days ago
Text
for a good cause | Rollo x reader
summary : While having fun at the festival with your friends, you're oblivious to your own guilt and grudge. Luckily, he's here to show you the truth.
warnings : reader is Yuu and she's implied to be a girl ; swearing
a / n : HAD LOTS OF FUN WITH THIS ONE Y'ALL WO!!! Yuu betraying the NRC my beloved. Also I was definitely NOT writing this AND watching the event at the same time and that's definitely NOT why is it so short haha...
A TOAST TO @pomefioredove FOR INSPIRING ME!! Hope you like it <3 🫶🏻🩷
P.S : maybe some grammatical mistakes or weird wording, sorry, English ain't my first language :')
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The horrors, the stress, the neglect about every single thing involving your mentality and your body... all of these curses that came upon you when you first set foot in the halls of Night Raven Collage could never be cured, could they? That's what you thought before you met him. He said he can save you...
Can he? Please, you have to let him save you...
The beautiful scenery in the main hall of Nobel Bell Collage never failed to catch your eye. The way the light of the sun illuminated the beautiful stained windows could never not be pretty. Compared to the dark halls of NRC, this school was twice as pretty, that's what you thought since coming here, but you'd never dare tell anyone, you didn't need another reason for people to look down on you as they always do.
“Something must've caught your eye for you to stop in your tracks like that, no?” The voice coming from behind you was as calm and neutral as ever. You caught with the corner of your eye the figure stopping right next to you, looking where your eyes did just a moment ago. “Well, you're never wrong are you?” You let out a silent laugh, at which the figure moved his eyes in you. “The glass...is beautiful. It never fails to amaze me. You don't see this at Night Raven” Your eyes went up to look at the glass again, the one next to you looking in the same place you were. “Hm, your comments make me think that Night Raven Collage isn't that amazing of a school that everyone would die to go in” You snorted at his snarky remark right before covering your mouth. You'd think he hates everyone from that school, but again, maybe he is, at how is looking at them, who can say he doesn't? “Didn't take you for the humorous type, Rollo„
Ah there it is again. Ever since you came here, Rollo can't seem to get tired of the way his name rolls off your tongue. He's heard about you, the magicless prefect who's came from another world. And goodness, you're... perfect. Everything about you, is absolutely perfect. Your face, your voice, your silhouette, everything about you... and on top of all you're so... pure. So pure, he can sense it, the essence of it right in your soul, he wishes to keep it to himself forever, he'd never let anyone touch something so pure and beautiful. Stain it with their dirty magic.
He looked at you again, your form snickering oh so close to his body. “Was it really that funny? I was simply saying what is on my mind...” Your laughing came to a stop, now having your attention fully on him. “I know, it's just the way you said it is all. It was funny. And I mean, you are kind of right. Sure Night Raven is a big school, no denying that. But! I guess you could say the inside is a bit... boring” At your words Rollo let out a laugh himself. “Hmph! Boring? I've known you for a day and I'm sure you can find a better word than boring„ “Meh, I don't wanna be mean is all” Your kindness was also something Rollo adored about you. He can see who you are under all that fake kindness you put on for your little friends at NRC. Right under all of that, the essence of your soul is naked under his praying eyes. He knows you're tired, tired of that school. Maybe he can use that for himself.
The songs and happy voices of the many people surrounding you were loud but not entirely unwelcome. After each group that was made earlier today finished their stroll through the busy streets, it was now time for everyone to gather in one place for the big show. You were currently sitting next to Rollo, watching from far away the boys who were having fun creating fireworks for the townfolk.
You couldn't help but scowl at the sight. It was so irritating, but why exactly...? “Are you alright?” Rollo's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Judging by that scowl on your face, I'd say you're ready to rip everyone's heads off” You looked at him, he was looking at you from the corner of his eye, and just for a second, you caught a glint of amusement in them. He was joking. How is it that he only does it when he's with you? You've been observing his actions ever since you came here and he seems to be a totally different person when he's with you. The handkerchief that always seems to be present when he speaks with other people, he never has it when he's with you.
Isn't it weird?
You gave him a reassuring smile. “I'm ok. I just...well...” The silver haired boy turns his head to fully look at you, waiting for an answer “I just... don't like the loud music, at all. It always gives me the biggest headache” Rollo let out an almost silent hm, and looked in front of him again. A minute passed before he spoke again.
“Who are you trying to lie to? Me or yourself?”
...what?
The weight of his glace almost crushes you. You could feel his sharp emerald eyes looking at you, no... looking through you, you knew damn well that right now the one called Rollo Flamme was looking straight into your soul, ready to burn it to ashes at any moment.
You turned your head away from him, unable to return the gaze. “I... don't know what you're talking about, Rollo. I'm not lying to myself at all. I told you the truth” He didn't stop looking through you. “Is that so? Because when your eyes are directed exactly to your little friends over there, it's hard to think that it's just the music that's bothering you” You were at a loss of words.
He was right wasn't he?
He knew
Of course he did
After all why bother hide it anymore?
You hated their guts...
You HATED that school
You hate THEM
YOU HATE IT
YOU HATE THIS DAMNED WORLD.
This time, you looked him straight in the eyes. And he knew, Rollo finally realized he got it. He was almost shocked at how easy it was to crack your fake facade. You were like him weren't you? You hated magic just like he hated it. You loathed the evil-doers of this world, the magic users. He knew he was right, he knew he was right to fall in love with you.
He couldn't help but smirk when he saw your eyes. So much hatred. My, how he loved that look of yours. “And what do you plan on doing now?” Your voice took a much more serious tone than earlier. He simply let out a laugh. “Me? Why nothing at all. All I need you to do — Rollo fully turned his body to you, slowly leaning to look into your eyes — is to listen to what I have to say”
The music of the festival could be heard even from the depths of the wall of the waterway tunnels. Rollo was guiding you, with a lantern in his hand, through what seemed like an endless darkness. And after what seemed like an eternity, you were the first one who spoke. “So what exactly do you plan on doing? You haven't explained anything to me at all Rollo” He kept walking, not saying a word. More minutes passed and you were getting more and more annoyed, when was he going to- “Why is it that you hate your friends so much? When I first saw you I could hardly tell you hated their guts” You fell silent at his question, why is it that you hate them? After all ever since you came here- ...oh, that's right. You know don't you? “You want the truth? I'll tell you. I simply hate their guts. Ever since I came here I have been nothing but an obedient little dog to them. Cleaning all the mess they did after every overblot I was the one to clean the mess. Trouble? That idiot Crowley has me going to solve it. Students fighting? Of course, I'm the one to blame. I'm fucking tired, I'm so damn tired of all of them. No one, not a single one at that school has ever cared to check on me, because who cares?!? I'm a magicless student aren't I? I don't have feelings or anything right? I'm just a damn MAGICLESS HUMAN WHO LISTEN LIKE A FUCKING DOG!”
Rollo didn't flinch at the sudden punch you landed on the wall next to you. You stopped walking a while ago, fully turned to you, Rollo watched your actions carefully, seeming to enjoy how you slowly became a victim to your own hatred, sinking deeper and deeper into the dark hole you made for yourself ever since stepping into this world. Stepping closer to you, Rollo raised your chin to look him in the eyes, the light of the lamp allowing you to see his beautiful yet empty emerald eyes. “See now? That's exactly why I guided you here. Your hatred for them is exactly what I need. So beautiful and so dangerous it is” Moving closer, he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him, burying his face in your hair. “What are you?-„ “So pure and so beautiful you are” You widened your eyes, your face growing warmer at his somewhat bold statement. He let go of you, grabbing your face once again, this time his being closer than it was before, the lamp illuminating half of his face as you saw the look in his eyes.
Predatory admiration. You could see it in the way he looked at you. Eyes burning with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Raw hunger that felt almost otherworldly.
“Tell me now, Y/N. I can save you, get rid of all those dark thoughts from your head, give you a better life. I can protect you. All you need to do, is give me your word. Let me be your sanctuary” Your breathing became heavy...can he? Can he truly save you? You'd wished to escape this for so long, you're so tired. You'd let him-
“Please, Rollo... — you grabbed onto his clothes, afraid that if you'd let go he'd abandon you just like the others — I'll- I'll let you. Please, be my sanctuary” Rollo's eyes flickered with raw desire. “Very well then”
The lamp in Rollo's hands dropped on the floor as his hand held your chin so you could look in his eyes. His other hand entangled into your hair, finally pulling you for a long awaited kiss. The moment his lips touched yours, every ounce of self control disappeared. He'd been waiting for this longer than he dared to admit. If only you knew what you were doing to him. You eagerly returned the kiss, your hands diving into his hair, careful to not let his hat slip off his head, lips moving in perfect harmony as you've done this hundreds of times before. And when you parted for the first time, your panting echoed through the dark halls.
You looked at him with red cheeks, and before you could stop it you let the words “I love you„ spill from your mouth. You knew your confession came out in a trembling voice, even if you didn't know why. Rollo looked at you and once again he kissed you, this time harder and urgent. He knew you knew he was telling you the same, that what he can't put into words he'll put into this kiss.
A long while passed until you two parted. Damned oxigen, you thought. The silver haired in front of you brought you closer to his face so that your foreheads touched. “How can you be magicless when I can swear that you bewitched me somehow. I'm not myself when I'm with you, did you know that? The things you do to me...” You giggled at his remark, kissing him once more which he happily returned. “Yeah? Well, I'm glad it's me. I'm glad you chose me Rollo” He smiled softly at you, placing a kiss on your forehead.
Picking up the lamp from the floor, he took your hand and guided you now towards the light that shot up at the end of the tunnel. “Come now my dear, I'm sure you'll like what you're going to see”
The many candles in the Nobel Bell Collage hall illuminated brightly. The students who came for the symposium were all gathered in the hall, waiting for whatever was to come. Suddenly, the loud sound of the bell echoed through the whole school. “The Bell of Salvation? At this time of the night?” Silver looked around him surprised by the tolls of the bell. “If I recall, we were told that the bell tolled there times a day no? Once in the morning, then evening and night. And I'm pretty sure we heard the toll for the night some hours ago. So what could the reason for this one be? Riddle's face twisted in confusion, his brows furrowing trying to figure out what's going on. “U-uhm, am I the only one who's seeing t-that?” Upon hearing Idia's voice, everyone looked in his direction.“What's that? A flower??” In front of them, growing from the ground, there was a beautiful crimson flower, one that had its petals beautifully colored just like wild flames. “What's a flower doing in the middle of the-” *crack* Another one made its way through the floor, cracking the tiles in the process. And then another, followed by thousands slowly covering the whole hall. “WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?” Sebek's voice echoed through the hall now full of crimson flowers. “Evreyone! They-they passed out!” In the blink of an eye, every single student who got close to the flowers had passed out cold and they couldn't be woken up.
Fire Lotuses. Dangerous yet beautiful flowers that supposedly went extinct centuries ago. These flowers grew by feeding themselves with magic, sucking it out of people leaving them with no ounce of magic to live with. The methods of extinction were not revealed, therefore there was no way to stop them.
“Standing in this hall while everyone else is passed at your feet is quite pitiful. Don't you think?”
Fighting and fighting, the students tried but there was no end to those flowers, if they can't use magic then they can't do anything. “Y/N! Make sure you stay beh-...what?” Deuce had called for you, but he now realized...you were nowhere to be found. “Y/N?!? NO! SHIT! WHERE ARE YOU?!” Hearing his calls, the others looked around them, you were nowhere in sight. “GRIM! Did you not see where she went?!?” Sebek picked up the panicked cat, who had thought you came back with him, your quietness being a normal thing at school so he didn't bother checking if you were truly there, blaming himself for your disappearance. “I-I don't know! I thought she was behind me I swear!” On the verge of crying he started shaking in Sebek's arms, the boy putting him down taking pity on him. “WE NEED TO FIND THE PREFECT NOW! AND SEE TO WHAT CAUSED THESE FLOWERS TO APPEAR!” Next to the loud green haired boy, Malleus was looking up the stairs in the hall. “Hm, perhaps, we should ask him” Sniffling, Grim looked in the direction of Malleus' eyes. “Him? Him who?” And just after, steps could be heard on top of the stairs, indicating who was watching from afar.
And there he was. The students looked at the stop for the stairs that now revealed Rollo's steady figure stepping out of the shadows. “YOU HUMAN! DID YOU DO THIS?” Sebek's voice boomed once again in the halls, at which Rollo merely laughed. “Why? Well it's quite simple. I did so I can rid this world from this magic of course” “Riding the world of magic? THAT'S ABSURD!! You damn wicked villain!” “SHUT IT! — the first time Rollo's voice was raised, the halls trembled at the sound — ME?! I'M THE WICKED VILLAIN?? What about you? You mages tricking the world with your stupid little magic tricks?! You mean nothing but trouble! But I!- I will rid this world of your kind, making it a better place!” He laughed as he talked, the looks of the ones amongst the flowers now flaming with anger. “You're a coward! Come the fuck down and face us if you're so determined of getting rid of us!” “No time for that Deuce! — Riddle grabbed the first year's shoulder — we need to find a way to get rid of these flowers before their thorns find a way into the soil” Another laugh from Rollo could be heard. “Too late for that! Just as we're speaking, the whole city is getting covered in flowers, and soon enough the whole island! You've got nothing left to do!” The flowers slowly started getting closer to them, leaving them helpless, just then, Deuce had realized what was missing from Rollo's speech. “You- WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO Y/N?!” Rollo's calm and collected eyes met Deuce's angry ones, smiling at his expression he let out a silent laugh. “Hah! Ask her that yourself won't you?”
Step step step
One by one, the expression of the students went from anger to shock. You. It was you who was now next to Rollo standing straight and looking down on them from the stairs, the same flowers that were now surrounding them, was present in your hair. “Y-... Prefect...?” Deuce couldn't believe it, what were you doing, what-what are you doing with him? “Prefect?! What do you think you're doing?!” Sebek's voice boomed once again. “You're with the enemy you filthy traitor?!” Looking right back into Deuce's eyes seeing his despair, that didn't sit right with you, Deuce has never done anything wrong, but again, did he really care...?
“I truly am so sorry Deuce. You did nothing wrong, really. But I'm so tired you know?” “W-what is that even supposed to mean Y/N? Is it me? Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry if I did I'm sorry! But why would you do such a thing?” “Because I can't take it anymore. I'm done, Deuce. I've been treated like a damn dog every second I stayed at that school. No one, not a single person has ever thought of checking up on me, seeing if I'm ok, not even you did. I needed to be saved, Deuce, and Rollo, Rollo told me he'd save me. And he did! I feel so much better now that he did” Empty eyes were staring into scared blue ones. Deuce understood, in a way. And the fact that he hadn't even thought about checking on you earlier... maybe if he did none of this would've happened. “Grim. I really am sorry. This time I can't accompany you anymore. Seems like you'll have to become a great mage without me” Shaking next to Deuce's legs, was a crying Grim. “Hench-human...”
This time, the looks you gave to the ones left was boiling through them. “You all deserve this. You all are some egoistic monsters you know that?” Malleus' steeped forward trying to reason. “Child of man this is not the-” “QUIET! You don't get to talk Malleus. You're just like them after all, you've always been haven't you?” Rollo was enjoying this too much. The expressions those idiots Night Raven Collage students had on their faces was priceless. But as much as he'd love to stay more, you both had work to do. “Now now Y/N. I'm afraid we have to go. We have work to do, remember” He put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, which you responded by putting one of yours in his. “Enjoy your last moments”
And with that, the floor around them was gone, leaving them to fall in complete darkness.
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the-himawari · 2 days ago
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A3! Magazine Interview Translation - B’s-LOG March 2024 [Cover Boys Interview]
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The true faces of today’s flourishing young actors
This month’s cover features Hyodo Kumon & Izumida Azami. Azami didn’t have any particular school he wanted to go to. So when Kumon invited over him to Tsukushi High School, the two became senior and junior. The two of them show close they are by walking to and from school and eating lunch on the rooftop together.
We bring you a newly written interview that provides a closer glimpse of their true faces.
*Please read disclaimer on blog
---
Q: Do you have anything that’s been important to you since childhood?
Kumon: Since childhood, huh~? Ah! I thought of something!
Azami: What is it?
Kumon: A home run ball from my favourite baseball player! One day when I was little, I was watching a game at the stadium. While I was cheering as hard as I could, it flew right by me and I caught it.
Azami: Oh, that’s pretty amazin’. That’s not something you can get no matter how many times you go.
Kumon: Exactly! Do you have anything like that, Azami?
Azami: I’ve… always had a cheek brush with me. It’s kinda like my good luck charm.
Kumon: Ooh, right. I know which one you’re talking about!
Azami: Yeah, I’ve used it on you before.
Q: Would you rather be called “cool” or “cute”?
Kumon: I’d definitely be happier being called cool! You’re the same right, Azami!?
Azami: If it’s between those two choices, then I guess it doesn’t really matter what you call me. But I don’t like it when people call me cute to tease me. I hope they'll quit doing that.
Kumon: Now that you mention it, Azuma-san calls you cute every now and then, right? Like it’s so cute and innocent how you immediately get embarrassed whenever you talk about love.
Azami: That’s why I keep tellin’ him to quit it.
Kumon: That doesn’t make you happy?
Azami: Azuma-san is totally just makin’ fun of me.
Kumon: Eh~? I don’t think he’s teasing you though. I think he genuinely means it.
Q: Tell us the truth. Are you actually a scaredy-cat?
Azami: Nah, not really.
Kumon: Me neither! Actually, Azami and I went to a haunted house together the other day!
Azami: Right, Kumon said he wanted to go to one outta nowhere.
Kumon: I thought it’d be interesting so I invited Azami and we went right away. That haunted house was loads of fun!
Azami: Well. I guess I’m glad I went since I could use their makeup as reference.
Kumon: Maybe I’ll go with Summer troupe next time!? Ah, I wonder if they’d come though…
Azami: It wouldn’t hurt to try invitin’ them. …I can’t say for sure that all the members would go though.
Q: How would you confess? In-person, by phone, or by LIME?
Azami: H-HUH!? Who the hell would answer that!!
Kumon: It’s fine, it’s fiiine! By the way, I’d do it face-to-face for sure! I’d like to see their face as I tell them and make sure I'm getting my feelings across properly.
Azami: …I see.
Kumon: C’mon, Azami. How about you?
Azami: I’m not gonna say. Lay off me! Get to the next question already!
Kumon: I sure wonder when we’re gonna get to hear Azami talk about this stuff~.
Q: When you’re on a date… would you hold hands, link arms, or do something else?
Azami: Another question like this? You gotta be kidding me!
Kumon: Now, now. Chill out, Azami! Considering the distance with my girlfriend… I guess I’d like to hold hands. But I bet both are out for Azami! So for him, it’d be “something else”?
Azami: Hey, why’re you answering for me without askin’?
Kumon: I knew you wouldn’t answer so I figured I’d say something for you!
Azami: This isn’t somethin’ you talk about with other people!
Kumon: You weren’t saying anything though. You gotta give an answer here! For the Azami in my mind, I don't think he’d be interested in doing PDA outside—or rather, I don’t think he’d be able to do it in the first place… Ah, you see, Azami’s a serious guy! But I’m sure there’s someone out there who’ll say they like that about you!
Azami: Uh, why am I being encouraged right now…?
Kumon:: Anywho, what do you really think? Did my answer hit it out of the park?
Azami: Urk, don’t fricken ask me! No comment!
---
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bringbackmaes14 · 3 days ago
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It's fine; you just have to understand that friendships between people in different age groups don't and can't necessarily work the same as friendships between people in the same age group.
I'm not even kidding when I say that when I was a kid/teenager two of my best friends were the grocery bagger at my local supermarket, Mr. David, who was in his mid 50s, and Mr. Theodore, an usher at my church, who was in his mid 70s. I was bullied and ostracized in my own age group, so I didn't have a lot of friends my own age. But I saw these two old guys a couple times a week. Mr. David had met my mom when she was pregnant with me so he'd been around my whole life and watched me grow. And we'd been going to the church where Mr. Theodore was an usher and since I was 3 years old.
And the thing was, it wasn't a friendship where I could invite these old guys over for sleepovers or to play tag or to watch SpongeBob, and they didn't talk about politics or playing golf or retirement plans with me. But when I saw them, I'd get a great big bear hug and a "how ya doin, kiddo?" They'd ask me how school was and I'd ask them how things were at the grocery store or the church. They'd ask me how my siblings were doing, and I'd ask Mr. David about his nieces and Mr. Theodore about his grandkids. I had a secret handshake with both of them (that now that I think about it might've been the same handshake for both of them but they didn't know each other so it was fine). We'd tell each other jokes. We'd make promises to see each other again when my parents eventually dragged me off to the next errand or sunday school class.
And those were good friendships! Not every good friendship has to include tons of quality time and numerous shared interests. I'm sure tons of us have friends now, even in our own age group, where we text them or see them once every six months, catch up for a few hours, and then we don't hear from them from a long time, and that's just how the cycle goes, but you still consider that spotty cycle a friendship!
And I'll also say: I'll never forget how devastated I was when I found out Mr. David had died in an accident. I remember going to the grocery store when I was 13 and asking a manager where he was because I hadn't seen him for a while, and the manager pulled my mom and I aside and said "Sweetie I'm so sorry. I know you and Mr. David were very close, but he died in a car accident three weeks ago." That was the first major death in my life. I'll never forget how furious I was when I told teachers and therapists that my best friend had died in an accident, and when I explained that my best friend had been an "old" man named Mr. David, I was told children couldn't be best friends with old men. I still tell people to this day that Mr. David was my first best friend.
I know now that there are definitely more fulfilling ways to have friendships than the friendships I had with Mr. David and Mr. Theodore (Mr. Theodore is still alive to my knowledge, I just don't live in that state anymore), but I don't regret the friendships I had with them at all, in fact I'm very very grateful for them.
My mom was constantly stressed but very much doing her best to raise me and my 3 siblings, and my dad was around but he was an abusive piece of shit. I'd had a boatload of disrespectful and downright demeaning therapists, and 9 times out of 10 the teachers I had either brushed me off entirely or loved me right up until they didn't. Suffice to say my view of adulthood was pretty shitty.
But these two old guys were there to remind me adults can be kind, to kids and adults and everyone in between! And adults can be silly! And adults can hug people just because they're happy to see them. And adults can have fun. And adults can love- their parents, their children, their spouses, their neighbors, their coworkers, their friends, a stranger walking by who just needs a smile.
Think about all the lessons kids and teens could learn from adult friends.
We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.
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thelesbianluthor · 2 days ago
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Kristen Applebees is a mess of a character in the most realistic way.
The thing is that I understand why people got to a point where they got tired of her chaotic and careless behaviour but that's the point isn't it?
I laughed at the bits and chaos of JY so much but I understand that things can be nuanced. I can laugh at the bits while also thinking about the implications of her actions in the story.
Kristen is a mess, she is spiralling, because she is a teenager who was faced with either choosing herself and being kicked out by her family and community or forever living a comfortable lie that would have inevitably made her lose herself.
She brought back a Goddess and she found her truth in Cassandra's domain, but she is also a teenager who just went through her first breakup with the first girl she ever loved and whom she experienced the highest of high and the lowest of lows. She has a right to mess up and fail and hit dead ends. Yeah Cassandra depends on her and Kristen needs to step up and take her role seriously but at the same time, it's so fucking unfair that the weight of a divine being's entire existence falls on the shoulders of a teen girl still in high school who is trying to find herself and learning how to handle life while also still recovering from a lifetime of trauma.
Whenever I think about that scene where Kristen says that her brain feels kind of liquid and she keeps failing to hold on to stuff I feel so incredibly connected to that feeling. I struggle so much with doing things that require a prolonged effort for a long term goal. My brain fails to hold onto stuff so I genuinely don't perceive how much time has passed, time feels so blurry and I inevitably end up failing at things I should be focusing on because my mind latches onto other things.
I relate a lot to Kristen on her struggles with commitment when it comes to important things and her latching onto fun and excitement that inevitably causes her to lose track of what matters.
The thing is that Kristen relied a lot on Tracker and how stable her presence was in her life. Tracker kept her anchored while also giving her a way to channel her energy and attention so I am not surprised that when they broke up Kristen lost most of her drive towards establishing her religion. It's not Tracker's fault of course and it is something that Kristen had to learn so JY Kristen was an inevitability
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starlightoru-gojo · 2 days ago
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Glitch
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Just silly thought about my man. I actually enjoyed writing this one, hope you will have fun reading too. Inspired by T. S song Glitch. Friends to idiots to lovers (because I'm a sucker for this trope huehue)
--
When you meet the wit's ends of your mind, everything just feels blank and numb. When the most gruelsome scene are presented infront of you, no matter how you tried to move how your mind shouts run! Run! Run! But your body stays... and stays no matter how your whole system stays watching like there's some glitch.
"Run, y/n!" You heard your mom shouted before you felt her blood splashed on you. You never saw what happened, you just felt it. A hand covering your eyes, like trying to protect you from from image on how your parents died.
--
"Hello. Y/n, right?" The woman and a man sat infront of you, smiling brightly as if nothing gruesome happened just minutes ago.
The dark seems peaceful, the moon made a vast illumination. This countryside was peaceful, just cicada noises can be heard during the summer and cool breeze in the fall but not tonight.
You nod at them, their smile is bright and warm and your confused for a five-years old to understand how can that smile show.
They look young and old at the same time, the man messed your hair and genuinely smiled this time.
"You can cry." That feels like a trigger for you, how everything flashed back, how your parents struggled to protect you but failed. You cry on them, trying to find shelter and they let you.
After calming you, they looked at you. You think they're trying to communicate.
"Do you want to go with us?"
--
That's how your sorcerer journey started, for a young little miss at five you couldn't quite understand what this all mean but as time goes by this world is far different from how you used to be.
They trained you, from a normal person to someone who can imbue curse energy. You live your life as if your part of them since the beginning like you were born for this world.
--
Sitting alone in the corner of your classroom near the window, just sightseeing, your actually waiting for everyone. First day of high school and your alone in this big room.
Not when the door fly open, you crunched your nose watching who it might be.
"What?! No teacher?!" Before he can enter the room he just shouted. You just watch him curiously, who is this boy?
Tall, white hair with glasses on? He entered the room alone now noticing you from the far end of the room, your face immediately heat up when he caught you watching him.
He looks like an angel. Minus the mouth.
He's alone. You're alone. You're both alone in this big room.
"Yo, whatcha doin'?" He occasionally asked you, sitting next to the chair beside you.
"Nothing, actually." You closed your notebook, it's just scribbles because you're bored.
You looked at him, he got blue eyes!! Pretty blue eyes!!!
"Guess they're not coming, huh?" Is he trying to have conversation? For a quiet and reserved person like you its hard to come up with a good conversation but you think not with him.
"I guess so. It's first day."
"Why did you go still?" His voice is teasing. "Are you grade conscious or somethin'?"
"No!" Yes. Yes, you are. He laugh at your defensive reaction, he knew better. He's laugh is beautiful you noticed.
"And why you're still here too?" You diverted the attention.
" 'm just bored." Okay. Fair. So, you just nod.
You two shared silence, awkward silence. He's watching you which makes this all awkward.
"I'm Satoru Gojou. The great one."
You laugh at what he said. How can someone introduce like that?
"Hi, Satoru Gojou the great one. I'm y/n. The nothing. "
You know Satoru Gojou, of course but this is the first time you've seen him, you've pictured him out someone like arrogant and not like this.
"You know me, right?" You crunched your forehead and nod.
"Heard your name before." That's true though, you are busy in far corner of Japan to know every person.
"Right, want to grab some food?"
--
Your thoughts were cut off when Shoko patted your head and head out together with Suguru. They have some important mission to do.
Was that for sympathy? Suguru just messed with your hair.
"He'll grow up and don't wait for him." You wanted to pout at what he said, you know what he meant.
"What? I don't like him." You said as you removed his hand on you. It's nit like you proclaim something for them to say that.
"Suguru never said a name." Shoko chimed in and they snicker at you. You shoo them away, these two is your death every time. They're like your ticking bomb whenever Satoru is there watching your every reaction.
It's your second year, everything is going smooth. But, not your heart it's been beating abnormally, arrythmia? Heart disease? But Shoko called Satoru-rythmia, because it only occurs when Satoru's around.
You watched him from a far talking with girls on the school grounds, you squint your eyes all giggling you throw a disgusting look at them.
You kicked his ankle when your at his back. And he immediately turned around to looked at who is this someone behind him.
"Our training." You just said and left him there.
"Sorry, Y/n time!!" You heard him and you can hear him run towards you.
He's been like that, you assumedly thought you're special at some point but you're just really deluded maybe because from watching too much dramas or reading books. He's just like that for everyone. Accomodating. Friendly. And warm.
He lunge at your back when your guard is down, you shriek when you felled on your shoes because he's heavy.
"Satoru!" You both fell on the grass ground, Satoru hugging you while laughing at your demise. You sit beside his waist and slap his arm but his just laughing.
You stared at him, he's laughing blissfully. Hair was away from his forehead, some were on the ground. Is his hair soft? It looked so soft specially when he messed it up when he thinks deeply. He looked like a real angel this close.
Oh, there it is again.
Satoru-rythmia.
--
Happy crush? This was supposed to be just a happy crush for you. Satoru's oh Satoru Gojou what are you doing with me?
Sitting alone on the stair in the field just thinking deeply, this summer afternoon is kinda dragging the school's been busy with the Kyoto's School visit and you don't want to deal with them. You train yourself, Satoru's been mostly your aid but he's not around and you don't try to contact him so you can sort your feelings out.
Happy crush. Yeah. That is all.
Satoru's not the boyfriend type but if he tries you think he will be a great one. Caring, thoughtful and super sweet yet you can picture him to be so clingy not that you mind- you covered your face with your palms.
"No, no, no!" He's your bestfriend, what's wrong with you?
You jump off your seat trying to make a defensive stance when a cold thing touch your head.
"Scaredy-Peanut!!" Satoru laugh at you and removed the bag full of...ice cream? on your head.
"What is your problem?!" You glared at his tall figure standing beside you.
"Hmm...I should ask you that." He said sitting beside you. "What is your problem, y/n?" Your eyes meet, oh those beautiful blue eyes, your the first one to look away.
"Nothing for you to be concerned of... can I have ice cream?" You unashamedly ask. You stares at you before lifting the bag away.
"No."
"You're greedy, you know that?"
"Yes." He chuckled.
You watched him, he looks happy right now like something happened without you even knowing. He's not wearing any glasses, which concerns you.
"Toru, your eyes." You immediately covered it with your hands. There are many people in the school right now because kyoto people are here and the summer sun is shinning brightly that might strain him.
He's so close and you felt your heart coming out its ribcage.
"Hey... it's okay, I can handle it better." The concerned look you gave him just made you worry more.  He hold your wrist to remove your hands on his eyes.
"You sure?" You looked at him genuinely and he nod. You sag your shoulders in relief. And he messed with you hair.
"Yes, maam." He said jokingly. You pushed his shoulder and make face.
"Don't barged in my room when your head's aching." You made a hmp reaction and tear your gaze away from him.
"Here's your ice cream because I made my fave person in the world worry." 
--
End of second year was when you go mission together without your teacher's supervision. There are just nights that are pure strolling and sightseeing.
Staring at the starry night of Kyoto, you and Satoru stand above the tallest building in the city, leaning on the railing you looked to watched the bustling city.
"This is beautiful, huh" you said while drinking you canned latte.
"Yeah, thank me y/n" you just shrug him off. Satoru's really the strongest and became more. You saw how he fought curses and it amazed you the first time. And his showing off everytime would boast about how great he is.
But, he's dreadfully quiet right now so you moved closer to touch his arm with you. Although your heart is not helping you but you think he had some problems.
"You okay?" You asked when the silence dragged between both of you. This is unusual, you're both loud when you're together and... chaotic that it sometimes pissed of Shoko and Suguru they don't know what possessed you to be influenced by Satoru.
You looked him watching the city before he looked at you.
"Have... you ever kissed someone?" You blink once. Twice. Thrice. Before you snapped in your periphery.
"No." Your face warmed, hearts beating loudly. You laughed it out, you want to curse how your heart just doubled its pace more the abnormal one. "Why would you ask that? That's rude."
"We're friends, you know? It's not that rude. Well, I got mine."
"What?" You crunched your forehead on what he said. What he got? Trying to look at him in puzzle.
Satoru looked at you. You heard it, you know you heard it but your brain can't process it quickly.
"Uh... kiss? You remembered that girl from Kyoto?" Well, I am from Kyoto too. But not the downtown though. You want to say it, but settled for crumpling your skirt and looking away. You bit your lower lip trying not to cry infront of him.
"Y-you have a girlfriend now?" That's childish of you. Focus on the city or the stars, you can't cry infront of him.
"Nah doubt it, I just want the fun."
You're quiet. Satoru tried looking into your eyes but you refused to looked at him.
So, this is how it felt to be heart broken is it? You thought it will be loud, but yours is silent. Maybe, silence hides the loudest scream.
"Right. I'll just pee. I'll be back." You walked out without waiting for his response. 
--
After that night, you tried hiding from him or whenever his around you go home you just tried everything to get away from him. It's a long 3 months for you and it's pointless because he is very persistent and annoying about it.
"Okay. Next mission, Gojou and y/n." You crossed your arm on your chest hearing what Yaga-sensei announced, you just looked infront not bothering to glance at your seatmate.
"Yes, Satoru?" Yaga-sensei said.
"Y/n don't want to be with me, sensei!" Satoru shouted and you heard Shoko and Suguru scoffed trying not to laugh. You glared at him and he just smiled widely at you with a raised hand.
"Is there a problem, y/n?" You closed your eyes and calmed your nerves.
"No."
"Did I do something wrong?" He's been following you like a dog all day and a broken record asking the same question. And he's been doing this in those months if his not away for a mission and it's so exhausting.
This is hard you think because he did not do something wrong, it's not his fault to not like you right? And as if you confessed? Not in a millionth time. It's not his responsibility to cradle your broken heart.
You're both walking in an empty path way in the school you're trying to get away from him again.
It's serene if Satoru's not loud. Autumn's coming, you walked on a blanket of falling leaves crisp and pretty.
Maybe, it's your fault for liking him in the first place and treating this way is just a evidence of how awful you are as a person and a friend.
You stop walking and face him. Satoru halted on your sudden pause. Just feet away. You want to memorize his face, his features, the way his hair sway when the wind gently blew it or how his smile can brighten up your any dull day. You want to memorize it all before you can make your resolve. You want to memorize everything that makes you feel this way towards him.
You close your eyes. And gently open it again and you met his beautiful ones.
"Satoru... Satoru Gojou, " you whispered like a prayer. He's name is divine on your lips. "I-I'll be back somehow just give me time, okay? And you did not do something wrong so don't worry." Your heart is aching, it's breaking you can feel it. You smiled at him and turned away as your tears fall as you walked away at him.
5 months after you finally convinced yourself that having feelings for Satoru is useless. And just be back to be his best friend. 
--
Final year of high school when he's suddenly calling you glitch. It confuses you at first but you let him be because that's how he usually is calling you with different names everyday but this time its just consistent. And its bothering you somehow.
"Why are you calling me glitch, toru?" You ask after munching a spoon of pudding, you're just chilling in your favourite pastry shop along the secluded street of Tokyo, it was an innocent question.
"Hmm?" You watched him changed from one dessert to another, definitely so busy. "Because you're my lil glitch." He said without watching you because again he is busy.
You just frowned at him but never bother to push the topic further.
You think you have been successful on your resolve so far half a year have passed. Almost graduating. Satoru's been the same annoying and all.
"Is that delicious?" He stop your train of thoughts md pointed at your pudding. You pulled the pudding closer to you and looked at him accusingly.
"Yes."
"Gimme a bite."
"No."
"Please, my glitch y/n." There he go again.
"I want that cookie too." You pointed at the red velvet cookie.
"Just a bite?" You nod and he nod. And you feed him and exhanged your food.
--
You frowned when you received an email saying that you were called by the higher ups. Your hands were cold, looking at those elders are scary. What more opening the door in the chambers.
You crunched your head after that meeting are they threatening you?
"You know we can just ditch you if we want, right? In the first place you did not belong in this world."
You're helping Satoru in his pursuit of change and that threaten the higher ups and now they're digging your past and using it against you.
"My glitch!" You just walk not bothering to looked at Satoru, just thinking deeply. 
You know what they mean, they can remove your privelege to be sorcerer but the fact that they said you did belong is quite a harsh comment.
Is that what a glitch mean?
You stop on your tracks and you faced Satoru. Who is smiling infront of you.
"Is that why you call me glitch?" You voice is accusatory which made Satoru's stance defensive. You scowled at him, unshed tears on your eyes.
You knew well he did not like you, but to make you feel unwanted is a different kind of hurt.
You held your feelings well enough, you hide it earnestly but being trashed out by someone you love is just piercing through your heart he can just say he don't want you, right?
"What? Hey, y/n..."
"Not now, Gojo. I'm tired." 
You don't have time for funny business any time you'll be trumped by the higher ups. It's been months since that incident happen and you're not talking to Satoru ever since. You've been both busy to mind anything, he will just looked at you pleadingly and you will looked away. This has been your routine after Satoru asked you what's wrong that day. It's tiring and it's hard watching Satoru's beautiful eyes lost it's glimmer.
Satoru gave you time. Spring came and graduation day is coming. Have he done anything to upset you? He's been bugging Suguru and Shoko but both don't know either.
You were talking to one of your colleague, the one who accompanied you in one of the mission in far away tokyo, he's here to pick up tools that they might need for mission in care of Yaga. Tomorrow's graduation so your both excited talking about it.
You're both walking on the cherry blossoms carpeted pathways of Jujutsu Tech. Everything is just painted with colors of cherry blossom. The cold breeze with some petals with it is just beautiful.
"Y/n!" 
You halted on your walk and looked at the man at your back. Your laugh stop and you scowled at him immediately. What now? 
"Hey, you can just y straight up walk there and that's Yaga-sensei's office." You waved goodbye at Kyohei. 
After Kyohei disappeared, you face Satoru once again with disinterest.
"What?" You asked when his nearing you.
"Who's that?" He asked seriously. You want to pinch his side when you noticed how his eyes is uncovered. 
"Yaga-sensei's guest." You said dismissively, he stared at you. His eyes are just so pretty. You crunched your forehead. You can't just let this happen again and again.
"You can't just walk with bare eyes." You said nonchalantly and walk out.  You crossed your hands on your chest walking back to your dorm room. And just hide for the rest of the day. 
"There's someone I need to put out my bandages on but been hiding from me." Satoru said now walking beside you. You stop and scowl at him and noticed his wearing his very dark shade right now. You just hmp! Him and walk again. 
"Maybe, she's angry again or something?" He just kept on rambling and you just make face everytime. You don't know but the walk way towards the dorms seems to stretch more. It feels so long and distant. The more you walk stepping the sakura petals makes your heart flutter more.
"I kind of missed her, by the way." You can feel the smile on his face. And your heart ache, it's like he meant it in a romantic way. But you know he just missed her bestfriend. 
"It's been months how can she endure not to talk to me for that long, huh? I can't even sleep properly when she's away fighting curses? Bet, she's happy being away from me." His monologue continue.
You stop your tracks, what does he meant by that? You've been miserable all of those times! And he stopped too. You side eyed him but shrugged him off.
"I don't even know what I did wrong, did I? And I might be out for a long time and still she's not talking. I might be gone tomorrow and-" 
You completely stop walking to face him. He is smiling, that annoying smile, that annoying eyes, that annoying face! You scowled at him.
"What did you say?" He raised a brow feeling triumphant that he finally got your attention.
"I might be away?"
"Yes. What was that?" You inquired curiously. You did not know that!
"Secret Mission." You just raised a brow at him. Okay. That's completely out of you. Sometimes, Satoru or most of the time Satoru is given highly confidential missions and you don't pry any further, that's just how he is.
"How long?"
"A month." You just nod and walk back. You heard Satoru sighed after a while.
"and you don't still talk to me? I don't want any more distance with us." He grabbed you by your hand. You just looked at him. "You can't be unfair to me, I don't even know what I did wrong or the last one. At least talk to me, I can't be on the shade forever." He said pleading.
"I'm a glitch. How can you be so invested with a glitch." You watch how his face contorts in confusion.
"What?" 
"Is that it Gojo? I am a glitch in this world, right?" He knew everything about your background how can he used it against you?
"What are you saying, y/n?"
"I'm a glitch in the system, right? I don't belong here, everyone think I don't belong here." Your angry tears are making you blur your vision. "You called me a glitch like that old man said in the meeting! You can just trash me out-"
But, Satoru laugh and you just cried more. What is his problem? Insulting you with his laugh.
He suddenly pulled you in a hug that stiffened you. You held you breath.
"You are so mean!" You slap his chest and cried more. 
" 'm sorry!" He encircled you with his arms for a hug.
Placing both hands on your shoulder when you calmed down. He watched you sniffing. And smiled fondly of you. Using his thumbs to wipe your tears away.
"Your smart brain is really playing with you. Don't you think?" You scowled with unshed tears.
"You know why you're my glitch?" You pouted what is this all about now?
"Gojou, I'm not fond of your funny business right now."
"Please, ask me!"
You sighed. Defeated. Tired.
"Why?"
"Because, you are a glitch in my system." You frowned. "It was supposed to be just a happy crush y/n, what are you doing to me?"
He whispered the last sentences that your heart beat rapidly. There is it again. Satoru-rythmia. It's back. Eyes wide looking at him. Realizing everything. 
He pulled you again for a hug. Soothing. Healing. He whispered softly. 
"Yes, that's what it mean, love. So, you're a glitch y/n. My glitch." 
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sunsetriwoo · 2 days ago
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a few cups of coffee later... here's a small idea i had for my yachtboys!bnd series... it's a wip ig.... (all the readers are fem!readers atm... might change)
bonedo are brothers so all 6 will be yachtboys together (#ot6)... when i think yachtboys i think of them throwing parties on their yacht(s)? for their friends and other people they decide to invite
share your opinions/feedback with me!! i don't bite click more to see what i wrote <3
friendly ✶ yachtboy!sungho x aloof visual arts student!reader
when yachtboy!sungho first comes across the aloof visual arts student occupying one of the studios, it felt like love at first sight. even though he's one of the friendliest people on campus, she pays him no mind. but sungho wasn't going to give up yet... he happens to know her best friend.
bashful ✶ yachtboy!riwoo x the school's social butterfly!reader
when yachtboy!riwoo's at their yacht parties, he's usually sitting aside, watching his friends have fun while he soaks in the overall energy. he takes life as it comes, and lives it however possible. until he laid eyes upon their campus' social butterfly, the one girl everyone simply adores.
confident ✶ yachtboy!jaehyun x serious council president!reader
when yachtboy!jaehyun gets challenged, he never backs down. this time, his friends were betting on if 'mr confident' could crack their student president's façade, and have her falling for him. but little does he know... her own friends have all placed their own little bets for this show.
witty ✶ yachtboy!taesan x sunshine fashion design student!reader
when yachtboy!taesan isn't with the group, he's either in his room making music or looping mcr albums as he walks down the hallways, trying not to draw attention. but when he was walking and bumped into a fashion design student, he realises that she's everything he wanted and more.
charismatic ✶ yachtboy!leehan x oblivious lyrical arts student!reader
when yachtboy!leehan walks down the halls, all eyes are on him. with his charming personality, he never fails to catch their attention. but when he walks by the sunshine lyrical arts student, he was instantly drawn to her. but there's one small issue, she treats everyone the same way.
sweet ✶ yachtboy!woonhak x shy architecture student!reader
when yachtboy!woonhak is called popular, he doesn't really mind it much. but the downside of being popular, is that shyer people tend to avoid him, even though he's one of the nicest guys on campus. but despite that, he simply won't give up on that one architecture student.
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str4wberrysw4n · 2 days ago
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TIME TO YAPP 🎀
I named him zach, mainly as a "placeholder," but i don't care if his name is different in the 3d. he's taller than me, pale skin, brown eyes, with his dark hair in a wolfcut style. we met on the first day of school and i thought he was so cute. but i was too nervous to talk to him, until we got paired up for a project. zach was so goofy and fun, and even after it ended, he still wanted to talk to me and ended up taking my number. his whole wardrobe is kind of like a 2000s rapper mixed with opiumcore. baggy jeans, wife beaters, chains, all that shi (and he looks so fine in them 🩷) zachy looks really scary when u first meet him (ngl he can be if u piss him off), but he's generally just a big teddy bear ( ˘ ³˘) he is one of the sweetest people i've ever met and the best choice for my first bf :D he's always there to help me and listens to me when i vent abt shi that's bothering me. ik it sounds like the standard, but trust me, it's above the standard for a teenage boy...he also just has the EXACT same humor as me. bro is literally just me as the opposite gender ong 🙏 like one time i texted "hawk tuah 🔥" for literally no reason and his response was "ur very very SPECIAL 💜" (in revenge, i didn't give him any cheek kisses for a whole day  (`ω´*)) another thing is that he let's me practice braiding his hair. my mommy never learnt how to braid hair from her mother and so struggled a lot with mine. i didn't want that problem if i ever had a kid, so he lets me practice on him. the first time i tried cornrows and he asked how he looked, I said "white boy carl ahh 🙏" he stole my juice box after >:T he's also one of the most chronically online ppl ik. like i swear bro is on tiktok 20 hours a day bcuz why am i responding to the tiktoks he sends like im grading his fukin homework?? speaking of hw, im so glad that he had y'know,actual aspirations n shi. so many boys in my school r getting into gangs n shit which is why it makes me so happy i ended up with someone who isn't affiliated with allat. he wants to go to a local college, which is fine, but i definitely think he could get into a better one if he wanted to. my prince is so intelligent (σ´∀`)σ also, he's been working out at the gym lately and it's starting to show 👀 (ngl gotta start doing it too) his parents absolutely love me, especially his mommy :3 once while we were in the car she was like "remember [my name], if my son ever gives u trouble, u come straight to me, ok?" it was a joke ofc (my bf would never hurt me) but it's nice to know i have their backs!! there's so much more i feel like im missing but it's hard for me explain!! when i love someone or smth a lot, i get so excited to talk abt them i can't put into words how i feel. i wuv him sooooo much n im so happy he loves me too!!!🎀
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I need someone to yap about their s/o
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emrikae · 2 days ago
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aot cast modern au jobs in my head:
eren: cybersecurity specialist. i feel like erens one of those kids that suck in subjects like lang-lit or fucking geography but have an impressive talent in anything techi. i think growing up eren was a competitive gamer and i imagine him being pretty rich in the sense where doctor daddy grisha and also big bro zeke are always spoiling his brat ass with the latest technology. he gets so good, he initially goes into uni wanting to become a game designer but after a brief fallout with his dad when he dropped out and eventually had his allowance cut (a period where i think eren dips into underground hacking and also modelling?) he falls upon the sexy salary in cybersecurity (and saw how thrilling- and damn easy !for him! - the job is) he changed course. i think eren eventually builds his own successful company and becomes one of those rich folks who say that school aint shit.
mikasa: president of a major sports team. mikasa takes over pretty young (like early 30s) after old uncle kenny was involved in some ‘reiss scandal’. initially mikasa was labelled ‘princess’ (derogatory) by dumb angry hooligans who thought a woman would curse their current standing, jokes on them cus that same season the club broke their 20 year curse by reaching the championships. i also think old pictures of gothkasa gets leaked on the internet but it only brought her more praise. but i actually dont think mikasa stays in this job for very long, shes always wanted a quiet simple form of income anyway so when her baby brother comes of right age and maturity she passes the baton to him and lays back as just a shareholder before shes even 40. i also believe mikasa in another universe wouldve loved to be an archivist.
armin: celebrity marine biologist/activist that went viral online during lockdown. he gets his own fanbase and is termed ‘biologist bae’ cus of his cute looks. a tv producer who fell into his corner pretty much fell in love with him after seeing armin deliver a spiel about endangered dugongs. invites him to a bunch of talk shows and the viewership goes so high (a large portion of it being teenage fangirls who want to ‘save the ocean’ too!) he manages to score his own show where he eventually meets his future wife.
annie: senior tv writer who got with armin after working with him on his show. she usually works on sporty reality shows and competitions even though shes a big time introvert. known for her sharp dont fuck with me work ethic, annie gags at how easily she fell into ‘biologist baes’ charm, hates how shes just like the 14 year old fangirls who try to sneak into their shoots. but anyways, annies the ace at her job been going hard for about 15 years but ultimately decides to retire early after having her second child and really liking how ‘biologist bae’ was making enough dough for the whole family.
sasha: influencer cus shes so pretty and fun. was a design major so all her vids have a ‘aesthetic’. now she prettily promotes lifestyle hacks for all the girlies. she also has a set of vids called “what my chef husband cooked for me today” . i think also further on she ends up being one of those moms who shoots vlogs and reviews with their kids.
jean: jeans a classy guy with artistic talents so i imagine him being a successful automotive designer for a luxurious car company. a mommas boy, he used his first fat pay-check to buy his mom a sleek ride thats a little too fast for someone her age. dudes insta page is what you’d expect from a posh car enthusiast with flashy posts of either him, his car, his mom or all 3.
connie: real estate party man. he really climbed his way up and becomes a man of many stories, friends with everyone and plenty of connections. the old hustle got him familiar with the best locations in the city, and now with his excellent salesmanship dude manages to sell at least 3 huge properties a week. i also feel like connies one of those dudes to finally settle down in his 40s -50s (with someone half his age).
historia: i believe queenbee was made for wedding planning. she has her own company before her first job ever but damn is she good at it. being brought up filthy rich, historia is familiar with the highest quality of things, knows whats on the market that only the small percentage of rich people know and will get clients their dream wedding to a t. moreover, she also loves to play cupid (canon!) and is always up to planning her friends weddings (and baby showers, and birthdays parties, and…)
ymir: i imagine ymir being on the board of directors for a bunch of ngos. she had a tough upbringing, was probably moved around from one home to another and could see how hard life is for anyone working at minimum wage. she grew up to be a little spitfire in school, hadnt taken it seriously until she reached senior year and bonded with a school staff named Ms Ymir Fritz. With the wisdom and kindness she learnt from her old teacher, ymir wanted to pay it forward and decided to make a living helping those in need.
reiner: idk why, but i feel like reiners a softie at heart and i imagine him having a nice cozy candy shop. probably fighting old childhood demons and the parental neglect he faced, his cute little shop comes as part of his healing journey to compensate what he missed out on in his youth. its sweet (but a little heartbreaking) that reiners favourite part about his job is getting to witness and be a part of the joy that emerges between families when they enter his shop.
bertholdt: a nurse just cus i think bertholdt would know how to be gentle with the patients. hes got a soft way of speaking that makes vulnerable people feel safe and comfortable. hes also wildly knowledgeable in flexibility and keeping your muscles in good shape that he conducts morning stretches and sometimes yoga in one of their recreational halls.
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daenysthedreamersblog · 3 days ago
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SECRETS OF US - I
i knew it, i know you
it all changed for me and i told you
you had the wrong idea about me
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masterlist
summary: you needed the fine arts credit to fill your schedule and finish out your junior year at university, but so did your sworn enemy coriolanus snow because of course he did.
warnings: swearing
paring: modern!coriolanus snow x reader
notes: omg so happy to have this out!! this story has been so fun to write!! i hope u enjoy!! it took me way too long to write this whole story out but its finally ready to have someone else enjoy it (hopefully)
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You're staring forward with a blank expression on your face as your mother rambles into your ear through the phone. You chew your cuticle to avoid sighing or groaning at her, letting her into the obvious feelings of annoyance of the subject of her conversation; your father, your career, your school.
"Yes. Yes, Mom I know." You scoop up the iced coffee into your hands and make for the door. You shift your bag around shoving the phone further into shoulder as your other one pushed the door open. "I'll come visit for the holidays I promise." You lie turning around the glass door and smacking into a solid wall. Your coffee smashes to the floor and all over your feet, "I am so-Oh it's you." You glance down as your destroyed beverage, "I have to go." You hang up mid questions.
He glares at you, "Do you ever watch where you're going?"
"Do you?" You shove back inside to grab napkins to clean the coffee off of your ankles. You grab your now empty cup and toss it into the trash along with the wet napkins before pushing past him down the street. You don't even try to go and reorder too annoyed and needing distance from him of all people. "You owe me $6 for that coffee you made me spill."
"I made you spill." He catches up to you matching your stride easily with his long legs and you feel more annoyance settle into your stomach. "You ran into me!"
You don't even look over at him as you cross the street. "You should have held the door open for me like a gentleman."
He snorts, "You've known me our whole lives...when have I ever been a gentleman?"
"Maybe you could start." You take a left to head down another block your campus coming into sight. It had been three years since you had seen him, three peaceful years of never having to look at his aggravating face besides a rare sighting in the library, but what should have been a docile dislike still burned in a raging blaze of fury. You searched for maturity, for a sophisticated phrase to send him off, but he brought out the worst in you. "Don't you have somewhere else to be? Schemes to plot in an evil lair?"
"I actually am heading to class this way too." He chuckles. "Has anyone ever told you you are a ray of sunshine?"
You smile sarcastically, "I would be a lot nicer if I had my coffee."
"So dramatic." He shakes his head laughing at you. You stop, looking at his grinning face. Three years and time had treated him well which only infuriates you more. He was taller somehow, his hair shorter and trained straight instead of those adolescent curls you begrudgingly despised. There was slight bags under his eyes no doubt from the start of the semester changing his sleep habits because you were the same, even more reason to be upset over spilled coffee. He looked good, and it made you hate him even more.
You decide not to respond, but pick up your own pace to put distance between you and your sworn enemy, but he kept following. You knew he had classes in this building since you had the same classes given he decided to pick the same major as you, but when you take a right down the stairs you believe he's simply following you. "You're being creepy."
He points ahead of you, "I have class this way too... like I told you." Your stomach drops. No, no, no this can't be happening. You reel on him eyes narrowed in anger watching his smug face slowly drop in realization as well. "You've got to be kidding me."
"I needed the fine art credit."
He pinches the bridge of his nose, "So did I."
You slap you hands against your legs in exasperation because of course you had the same curriculum with the same required credits. "You simply always need to copy me."
"Could say the same about you." He pushes past you and into the classroom ahead. It wasn't just a classroom, it was a theater. You had chosen this for the credit on your transcript because it was different than anything else you have done, you had a chance to prove yourself in something new, be the main lead if you wanted; gain attention, notoriety, and an ever growing boost to your resume. You chose it because you knew you would excel and exceed where others could not simply based on who you were and how you treated everything academically in your life.
Okay maybe you also figured it would be a fairly easy pass.
And so had you old Academy rival Coriolanus Snow.
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It wasn't horrible. He mostly sat on the opposite end of the room as you and you barely had to interact with each other those first few classes. It had consisted of generic information, a slow introduction to the world of pretending, nothing too intense that you knew was surely coming.
You had the same major, political science with a minor in business, but you had had freedom structuring when you took certain subjects, carefully crafting something that never put him a few desk away from you again, thankfully you both never had crossing seminars...besides this one.
You and Coriolanus Snow had a long history together. You had grown up together, not closely, and not anything of note, enough to be aware of each other, but this growing animosity didn't take root truly until you both attended Academy together. You can't always picture how it started in the depths of your mind, but it had been there for some reason. You see snippets of niceties but that always seemed like delusional daydreams of a world that never existed, never could exist. You had both wanted to be top of the class, always fighting for the number one position, teacher's favoritism, student body president, valedictorian... It gnawed at both of you eating away at any form of camaraderie to the point anyone who knew you, knew you hated each other.
You glared over at him as he wrote things down in his notebook. You knew he would be attending University with you, you wished he had been dumb enough to not be accepted, but nope he was here, sitting a few seats away from you again. And of course the asshole had to be gunning for you here just the same.
"Alright my lovely students." Mr. Flickerman clapped his hands. "Now that were a couple classes in I want to go over our huge project for the year." You sat up straight, this was your moment. "I have written a play that we will be performing, and I'll be holding auditions next week for different parts." He smiled glancing around the room, "The final show won't be until the end of the spring semester, and as we go through it we'll be going over different techniques of line delivery and stage directions and play writes...you get the point. Once we're done you won't be able to view a show without analyzing it."
The class flatly laughs.
You smile after he dismisses you heading down to the sign up sheet quickly. You wanted the lead, you needed the lead. You wanted him to be so impressed he makes a reporter come down here to add you to the paper. Okay that was silly. Mostly you wanted your father to come watch and maybe see your more than just his pawn, that maybe there was more to you than his perfect molding. You wanted Coriolanus to be some boring side part with no lines that no one would ever pay attention to. You scribble you name down on the part you want and take the script copies home to practice and then you're heading back home to your apartment with that ever growing fire under you.
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You lose yourself in preparing for it you barely hear your phone ring until it goes off for the second time. "Tell me you're getting dick and that's why you're not answering."
"I wish Clem." You run your hand over your face. "No I'm studying up for something."
She groans, "You're so boring, come out with us tonight there's a new place in town that has really good espresso martinis."
"I can't." You sigh. "Maybe once I land this part."
"Wait." She chuckles. "Part? Is this for that theater class you wanted to take or does daddy have you off doing side quests again?"
You actually laugh as you set the script aside, "It's for a class, for a credit I need." You trace the words absentmindedly. "I figured it would be different...fun. Nice break between all the other boring shit I'm doing." You stare down at the lines of your future male counterpart, "You'll never guess who-!"
"Are you and Coriolanus Snow in the same fucking class...again?" She sounds shocked as if the possibility of running into him had always been small despite the agitation around it every coming semester.
You flop back onto the couch, "Yes ugh he's obsessed with ruining my life."
"Surprised the building hasn't combusted from your two inflated egos." Clemensia jokes.
"His is bigger than mine."
She laughs even louder. "I'm sure it is darling. Well, I got to run, our car is here but you'll have to tell me how it all goes next weekend over these martinis if they're actually any good."
"It's a date." You smile as the line cuts off plunging you into silence. You shove the script away and stand up going to your fridge grabbing out the bottle of wine and opening it to pour yourself a large glass. You sit back down on the couch, curling your feet under yourself as you scroll through social media.
You find yourself on his page seeing his stupid pictures with his stupid face doing stupid things as you sip on your wine. It wasn't fair that someone so annoying was so good looking, it also wasn't fair that he was aging like fine wine. You chuckle into your own wine. You keep scrolling and scrolling through his pictures more of your wine disappearing before you neared when he was back in Academy with you. You pause on one of him with a group of the other boys. He looked so young, with his longer blonde curling hair, and a little grin on his lips before the cruel world could steal the light from his eyes. You're trying to zoom in when your phone slightly slips the red heart appearing on your screen.
"Oh no." You quickly unlike the photo. "Shit, shit, shit." You close the app throwing your phone across the couch. Maybe he wouldn't see it. You drain your wine, your nerves buzzing.
Your phone vibrates.
"Are you stalking me?"
It spreads out across your bright screen that sends adrenaline coursing through your thumping heart. It's a direct message from him.
You stare at it for so long considering all your options. You could lie, say it was your friend, a pet you didn't have, maybe you were babysitting or hacked! You could just tell him you slipped but then he would know you were looking through his old photos.
You could just...never respond.
"I thought I blocked you." Is all you type back. He didn't need an explanation, or your time and beating heart, screw him.
"Clearly not if you're looking through my photos from years ago." He types back too quick, "Reminiscing on the good ole' days?"
You tap your fingers on the side of your phone, "You did look so innocent back then, how deceiving." You're on your feet going to the fridge for more wine to avoid the three little bubbles going off while he typed back.
"What are you doing right now besides looking at pictures of me?"
"What?"
"Can you read?"
"Yes, but why do you care."
"Call it boredom..."
"Drinking."
"What are you drinking?"
"The blood of my enemies."
He doesn't respond for a while, so long you think this little game is finished. But then your phone goes off again bringing a blush to your cheeks as you read his message, "You wish."
You never type back, you turn your phone off and go to bed.
You avoid messaging him again the rest of the weekend heading to class with your head down. You blames the alcohol for even letting you give him the time of day. You take your seat in your normal spot grabbing out your notebook as a coffee slides across your desk. You follow the hand holding it until you're staring into his blue eyes. "Figured it's better than the blood of your enemies." He says finally taking his hand off of it you glance at his name scribed out on the cup by the barista then back to him, "And I owed you one from last time." You scowl at him, "It's not poisoned."
You narrow your eyes at him venom dripping from your ever present emotional fangs, "Just because we had a little DM session doesn't mean we're friends."
He rolls his eyes, "Can't you just accept one act of kindness and move on."
"I don't trust your kindness." You cross your arms, "It's manipulative."
"At least I can fake kindness, you don't have a nice bone in your body."
You smirk, "Only to people I don't like."
He glares at you, "Then block me." He storms off.
"I did already!" You lie watching his back as he makes his way to the other side of the room. You trace the letters of his name.
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You get the lead...obviously. The play was an original romantic tragedy that Flickerman had constructed, you were surprised by his lighthearted nature he was able to produce something so solemn, something that encompassed what you had always longed for within romantic entertainment; yearning and passion; everything your life lacked. It didn't matter as long as you did well with what you were given, and you would. You had to.
Clemensia had kept true to her word by taking you out for celebratory drinks, and as your drinks clink with your friends you can picture the applause you will receive after the performance, the smug smile on your face as Coriolanus lurks in the shadow of anonymity. "You always were into the dramatics." Arachne Crane watches you over the rim of her drink.
"Well now I can put that trait to good use." You laugh taking a drink.
"How romantic is it?" Clem ask with a mischievous gleam in her eye.
You shrug, "Nothing crazy just some kissing scenes."
Arachne swirls her drink, "Do you know your scene partner? Is he at least cute?"
You racked your brain trying to imagine the rest of the class, for some reason the only 'cute' person that showed up in your imagination was Coriolanus, and that didn't seem accurate because he wasn't cute, he was annoying. "No idea Arch." You sigh, eyes wandering out into the dim restaurant, but your phone vibrates in your purse.
You glance at your friends who are engrossed in their side conversation before tugging your phone gently out of your purse. You chew on the side of your finger smirking down at your phone reading the name pinging on your screen.
Then its being ripped out of your hands, "Who has you smiling-Coriolanus Snow!" Arachne's eyes widened in shock, "'I thought you blocked me.' That isn't even clever and why don't you have him blocked?"
"Yes, how did he ever get through those defenses." Clem chuckles. You had never blocked him during your time at the Academy, it had never seemed important at the time, and after the whole direct message debacle you had blocked him...for about a day.
You snatch your phone back, "I must have forgot and he's in the same class as me, probably just wants to ask about a test or something."
"I did. How did you figure out I unblocked you?"
"Curiosity killed the cat, also I'm smart."
"So I'm the cat or are you?"
"Wouldn't you like to know, kitten."
Your head spins, he's teasing...right? "Then what are you in this story?"
"Whatever you want me to be."
"Are you flirting with me Coriolanus Snow?"
"Do you want me to flirt with you...kitten?"
You know your face is flushed, why did he text you when you had been drinking and can't think straight. Why was he even talking to you? He wasn't flirting with you, he hated you and you hated him and that had always been the status quo you both enjoyed. This had to simply be banter to get into your head, to throw you off, he's always been personable, smoozing his way to the top, sarcastically nice towards you; this seemed different. "Gross." You had sent the puking emoji for good measure.
You watch the three bubbles for quite some time, you actually begin to feel bad you were on your phone but it dragged you in for some reason, making it incapable to look away, like a horrible car wreck happening in the palm of your hand.
Until finally his messaged popped up, "Congratulations on getting the part, looking forward to working with you." He had sent a kissing emoji next to it making your heart stop.
"He's my scene partner." You stare up at your friends all joy dripping out of you. "He got the lead part too." Because who else in that room would have been capable if not him.
Arachne nearly spits her drink out while Clemensia burst out laughing. "Oh that is perfect."
"Who knows." Arachne states condescendingly, "Maybe it will bring you two...closer." Which only brings laughter from both of them as you put your head in your hands. This was bad, bad news and you needed to end it before wreckage could ensue.
Once the week starts you go into class earlier than everyone to search out Mr. Flickerman. This had to be some mistake, or game he must be playing at to continue to ruin your life. "Professor." You breath. "I need to talk to you about the play."
He doesn't look up at you as he filters through papers, "What about?"
"Coriolanus can't be my scene partner."
Mr. Flickerman glances up at you. "Why not? I think you two will be wonderful, you both had the best auditions for your respective roles."
You close your eyes trying to phrase it nicely. "We have a long history and-!"
"Romantically?"
You cringe, "Gods no."
"Then what's the issue?"
You sigh. "We don't like each other and I'm worried that will...reflect in our performances."
Mr. Flickerman pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are you backing out then?"
"No." You stand up straighter, why would you ever give into him. "He should."
He laughed. "Good luck convincing him of that." But he saw the distressed look on your face and took a deep breath. "Look I suggest perhaps figuring your issues out, maybe this will be a bonding experience!" He nudged you with his shoulder, "Maybe it will heal old wounds."
You know you won't get anywhere, he's too caught up in making his play perfect for reviews and you didn't blame him. You turn around watching Coriolanus striding down the row of desk in all his wicked glory. "This is a new low for you Snow." You seethe at him. "I know you're only doing this to make me back out."
"Did you?" He smirked but for some reason its doesn't have the usual flair behind it.
You held you chin up. "No, and I won't be, but you will."
He leans down, closer to your face. "Is that a threat, kitten?" You feel the blush burning through your cheeks and he laughs at you. It's the first time he uses the pet name outside of your phone and you lose words. "Have fun trying though." He pushes past you towards his seat leaving you grid your teeth in frustration.
He was impossible, he was rude and narcissistic and-and you had to kiss him or else your pride would be in shambles. You wouldn't-couldn't back out or else you'd be viewed as a failure, a quitter.
You would have to kiss Coriolanus Snow.
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endnotes: hope u all enjoyed this first chapter i had hopes the first chapter was longer but alas this is where we are at!! hoping you stick along for the ride!!
CHAPTER 2 coming 11/29
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