#hoping to boil wash her when I get the time but oh my god how are kids supposed to even play with this doll??

[stuffedanimalenthusiast]

Got G3 Lagoona today and oh my god I hate her hair how can a doll so pretty come with such matted hair :(

[lilbitdepressed27]

Can you do a fic where the core four find out Tara is dating a really famous singer (Fem reader) and how Sam would take it?

Tara Carpenter/Fem!Reader

WC: 2.3k

Author’s Note: hope you enjoy, and it’s up to your expectations.sorry for the wait

For the life of her, Tara couldn't understand what or how she got to call you her girlfriend. She remembered meeting you like it was yesterday when in reality it was six months ago. She remembered being in the library trying to study for her final exam, she had lost track of time. When she heard someone somewhat loudly talking on the phone.

The tiredness and the hunger she was feeling (that was making her head hurt) boiled over into anger as she slammed her book shut. Storming up to whoever was talking so loudly. (It's wasn't that loud, it was more of a whisper yelling. But she was irritated.)

"Look Max, I'm in a library. I'm just gonna check some books out and that's it. Oh my god, Rex is outside. Yes I know-Hey, can you talk a little bit quitter some of us are trying to study."

Her irritation was gone the moment you had turned around. Her jaw dropping and eyes widening at the sight of your apologetic face.

You hung up the phone the moment you heard the voice. A wave of embarrassment washed over you. "I'm so sorry that was my ma-mom. My mom. She worries. She's a worrier. Uh sorry I disturbed your study session."

"You're Y/n Y/ln...the singer."

It wasn't long ago that she was literally drooling over a thirst trap about you on TikTok. She gets way too many thirst traps of you on her for you page. Not that she's complaining.

Looking back at that memory, her face still flushed with embarrassment. She couldn't believe she had snapped at you. Although a part of her was kinda glad she did. Cause now here she was dating you. She was happier than ever.

Keeping the relationship a secret was surprisingly easy. With you being on a bit of a hiatus after a long, long world tour. You had so much free time. Time that she loved that you spent with her. Most of the time was spent at your own apartment, she had to lie a few times to Sam. Seeing as Sam didn't know she was dating you.

Being with you had been so freeing. She felt so happy. You made her feel safe, you took her protection very seriously. When going out with her, you always had your bodyguards with you. The men were always prepared and ready. Keeping a good distance to give you both a bit of privacy. Frank and Bill, the ex marine bodyguards were the sweetest but were not afraid to get physical with anyone.

You weren't either, you had gotten verbal with an older woman who wouldn't stop bugging her about the Woodborro's attacks. She had never been more attracted to you, seeing you curse out the older woman. Not even letting the woman get a word in.

"Hey baby, are you done studying now?"

Arms wrapped around her shoulders from behind. The light kisses you placed on her neck. Tilting her head so you had more room as she leaned back in her chair. Gladly accepting your kisses.

"You've been in here for hours, you need to rest. Come on." Moving the chair to face away from the desk. Turning the chair to face you. "Come on. I already got the bath ready for you, I also made us some dinner."

Tara couldn't help but fall more in love. You were always so sweet, caring, just so adorable to her. A completely different person than when you're on tv or with other people. The person in front of her, only she had the luxury to see this way.

"Join me?"

"Without question."

She did more than just relax in that bathtub.

*

"When am I going to meet the person you've been sneaking out to go see?"

It was late in the afternoon when she had gotten home. You were busy meeting with some people to talk about business, till late. You had wanted to make sure everything was set for your long hiatus that you were going to take. She knew you deserved it. After being on tour for almost two years, your world tour made billions and it was one of the biggest tours in history.

You deserved to rest.

So she had made her way home. Opting to just stay there so Sam wouldn't suspect anything. Clearly she underestimated her sister. Cause she had almost jumped a full foot in the air at the unsuspected voice the moment she stepped into the apartment.

"Jesus Sam. I thought you were at work." She tried to ignore the question as she set her keys and bag down before heading to the kitchen. To her dismay her sister followed her.

"Come on Tara. You know I worry, just let me meet them so I can see if I can trust them, and possibly have Kirby run a background check."

With a shake of her head and a laugh, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Tara you're my sister, I can tell when you're lying." Sam crossed her arms, as she took in her little sister. For the past few months she's seen the change in her sister. Tara seemed more happy, at peace. A complete 180 from how she was when they first moved to New York. Don't get her wrong she loved this change. Tara openly talked about the things that happened in Woodboro with her. Talking about wanting to move on.

But she knew Tara was hiding something/someone. She also saw the love marks on her sister neck that Tara clearly tried to hide.

"It's Y/n Y/ln."

A mock laugh was all Tara got. "Come on Tara seriously. Who's this person."

With a grin in return, "I am serious."

"Fine don't tell me. But I will find out."

*

You had been messing around with your guitar when you heard your doors lock unlatch and open. Only one person had a key to your apartment. So with you knowing who it was you put your guitar on its stand, leaving your studio to meet the love of your life.

"Hey baby." Seeing her was always such a sight you loved. She was absolutely beautiful. Even when she was clearly overthinking something. She had the familiar furrowed eyebrows and pout when she was deep in thought. Gently tapping her nose, her slight jump didn't go unnoticed. "What's wrong?"

Tara leaned into your embrace the moment you brought her into a hug. The feeling of your hand gently creasing her back. She just loved being in your arms.

"How do you feel about meeting my sister and best friends?" At the sight of your smile, her nerves settled.

"Nervous, but I would love to."

*

Tara had been pacing the living room for the past ten minutes. It won't be long till you got here. With you being a big artist, you always wore funny disguises to blind in with the normal crowd. It sometimes reminded her of Superman. Everyone knew Superman, but hardly anyone knew Clark Kent. Which also meant you were going to take a bit longer than usual.

"Tara would you relax. It's not like we're meeting anyone famous. We just want to ask her a few questions and then have Kirby run a background check." Mindy said from her seat on the couch, getting a bit dizzy from seeing Tara pacing. Anika was right next to her cuddled up to her.

She was nervous, it'd be the first relationship she'd be in with Sam around. And she wanted Sam's approval. Sam was her big sister after all. Sam wouldn't care if you were a big artist. It would still take her time to trust you.

*

You were absolutely losing your mind, you don't remember ever feeling so nervous. You didn't know much about the ghostface murders, let alone the stab movies. You didn't really like slasher movies. You didn't do any research, not even when Tara told you what had happened to her. You didn't want to come across any crime photos you were for sure to see. From the scars on Tara's body you knew her encounter with said ghostface (who also happened to be her best friend) had been gruesome.

You also knew that Sam was protective. And you couldn’t blame the sister.

So you wanted to make a good first impression. With a nice bottle of wine. It was also extremely expensive but no one had to know that.

You were in front of Tara's apartment door a lot quicker than you had hoped. You've preformed in front of thousands of people but these, these was your first serious relationship. Your first time meeting a significant others family. Since the start of your career you had always focused more on your music. Never focusing on the many girls that were basically throwing themselves at you.

Tara though, Tara was different. She made you feel so, special, in love. Cared for. She was your person.

Knocking on the door as you took off your hat, wig, face mask and glasses. The door opened and Tara's beautiful face greeted you. You could see the nerves in her eyes but one look at you and she seemed to relax.

"Hey gorgeous, I brought wine. I wasn't sure what to bring, I was gonna call but I was, I'm a bit nervous-Hey it's okay. The wine is perfect." Seeing how nervous you were she pushed her own nerves down. She knew this was your first time meeting a girls family. Something she found hard to believe. She could have sworn you had been dating Renee Rapp. But the blonde singer was just your best friend.

"Come on. Also they might freak out and stare, so be prepared."

You took a deep breath and exhaled trying to steady your nerves. With Tara's hand in yours. You heard people talking in the living room. With your hand in Tara's she lead you to the living room, the voices quickly stopping at the sight of you. You took in the way their eyes widen and jaws dropped.

"Guys this is Y/n, my girlfriend. Y/n those are the twins, Chad and Mindy. Anika who's Mindy's girlfriend, Quinn my roommate, that's Ethan and this is Sam my sister."

You forced your nerves down, the girl Quinn broke the silence. "You're Y/n Y/Ln." the disbelief was heard in her voice. Her eyes refusing to take her eyes off you. It was starting to make you a bit uncomfortable. The way she was looking at you was menacing in a way. Like you were some type of award that she was dying to have. It was an odd look. One that only made you feel so uncomfortable, a squeeze to your hand took your eyes away from the red head to the brunette standing to your side.

Sam had tried to hide her disbelief as she took you in. She herself had been a fan of yours for quite a while now, remembered feeling a bit of disappointment when you had announced your hiatus after your last world tour show. A tour she had sworn she'd try to go to but with everything that had happened the opportunity never came.

You offered a small smile at the tall brunette. She was taller than Tara which was a bit funny. Tara looked absolutely adorable standing next to her sister. Extremely tiny next to her sister and friends. The uncomfortable feeling you had with the red head being forgotten at the sight of your beautiful girlfriend. "It's nice to finally meet you Sam. Your sister talks highly about you."

At mention of that, it had Sam smiling but yet her eye brows raised. Tara rolled her eye in return but yet she was also smiling. As much as Tara told you, how they butted heads. You knew Tara admired her big sister. And based off the look the older carpenter had casted Tara's way. You also knew that Tara's opinion on Sam mattered.

"Thank you, although Tara hasn't said anything about you-Wait yes I did! I told you about Y/n last time you cornered me."

"I didn't believe you!" Sam quickly responded.

“Dude who would? Tara I’m sorry but holy shit Y/n you are a whole lot hotter in person.” Mindy said her eyes still wide in disbelief. Quickly snapping out of it when Anika elbowed her side.

Chad was the first out of the three to stand up, “It’s nice to meet you Y/n, you think you can get us to meet Beyoncé?” He received an even harder elbow to the stomach by Mindy.

At the sound of your chuckle, Tara felt herself relax leaning into your side. Watching you get along with her friends and Sam was all she wanted.

*

Getting to know Tara's friends and sister was fun. Even though that red head still kinda gave you a weird vibe. Thankfully she had retreated to her room. With time it had come down to just you Tara and Sam. Tara momentarily leaving to use the restroom.

“Okay so I know Tara is all about independence and her freedom. So all I’m going to say, treat her right, make her happy and we won’t have any issues.” Sam said, although she still planned to have Kirby run a background check. Yes you were a big star, and even though she was a fan. Her sister’s safety came first.

“I will Sam, I love you sister. More than anything. I take her safety seriously as well. And Tara told me you were probably going to have one of your friends run a background check on me.” At the sight of her wide eyed and the slight redness on her cheeks. You chuckled, “Be free to. I don’t hide anything well maybe my once obsession with supercorp.”

Sam let out a small laugh. Even though you were thee Y/n Y/Ln. it would take time to fully trust you.

:)

[carpetbug]

welcome to the beginning of my ML Feline Blue AU!

in which Marinette is forced to become guardian before ever wielding a miraculous. Chaos ensues when she uses the black cat ring to become feline blue and through a silly little turn of events, Adrien gets his hands on the ladybug earrings and becomes beetle rouge

BIIIIIG thank you to my lovelies @isabugs and @thimbleb3rries for being so kind and encouraging, for their WONDERFUL ART OH MY GOD, and for beta-ing this!

The beginning: Becoming Guardian

1 • 2 • 3

“You’re not going to beat me like that, old man” The looming figure taunted.

Hunched in a ball before him, a much smaller elderly man struggled for breath. Blood trailed from his mouth, combining with his saliva to messily drip from his lips as he fought for air. Just by the effort he had to put into continuing breathing, he could tell this was not a fight he could win. Still, his fists clenched in defiance as he pushed himself from the floor and steadied himself upright on his feet. His spine screamed in protest and searing pain at the task, but he managed to remain standing.

“I know I can not beat you, old man” He coughed, hands trembling slightly. “But I must continue to fight”

The taller man scoffed before taking a step forward “I’ll make sure it's the last thing you ever do, you pathetic excuse of a guardian” He spat, tightening his grip on his cane as his rage boiled beneath his skin.

“I’d expect nothing less from a villain like you, Hawkmoth”

“No need to act like you’re so much better than me. After all, we've all made mistakes, haven’t we Master fu” Hawkmoth sneered.

“Leave my past out of this. I’ve worked to fix what I have broken, you only aim to destroy” Master fu panted, feeling his shoulders to check if his bag was still on his back, and letting out a small sigh of relief when he felt the thick material. Next his hands slowly traveled to support and feel the bottom and sides of the bag, searching for an object. He took another relieved breath when he felt the item's weight, and then he prepared himself for the worst. Bunching his muscles, he sprang into action and bolted away from Hawkmoth.

He focused only on moving forward, getting as far from this wretched evil as he could before time ran out. When he finally collapsed, legs giving out from under him in pure exhaustion, he found himself at the Pont de Arts, above the seine. Hawkmoth was nowhere to be seen, but master fu knew that was only a false sense of security. The villain would find him soon enough. He needed to find someone. Anyone.

“-ir? Are you okay?”

A voice. Master fu looked up, vision shaking just slightly. In Front of him stood a teenage girl, dark hair pulled back into pigtails and eyebrows pushed together with worry.

“Sir? Can you hear me?” She asked with a panicked look in her eyes. “How can I help?” She stepped closer and offered him a hand.

Master fu gathered his strength to pull his bag from his back and carefully draw open the zipper before reaching in to pull out the contents. The girl watched intensely, eyes following his pained movements. He pulled a large dark wooden box from the bag and held it close to his chest, then brought his eyes upwards to meet her face. “I’m sorry, young hero” He said sadly, then joined his hand to hers before she could respond.

An intense feeling washed over him, and he closed his eyes to take a deep breath. This girl was strong. He hoped she will forgive him for the burden he will make her bear.

She flashed an anxious smile “That’s okay, and I promise I’m no hero. Just a normal g-” He cut her off with a sharp tug, then slammed the box into her chest. She gasped as he knocked the air from her lungs, clearly not expecting such a feat of strength from the battered man. As she fought to breathe, Master fu gathered the last few remnants of his strength and lifted the girl from the ground. “I, Wang Fu, hereby relinquish the Miracle Box-”

“Stop! What are you doing!?”

“-and name Marinette Dupain-Cheng the guardian” His body lit up, skin glowing as the box between them lifted upward and burned like a star in the air.

“How do you know my na-?!” Before she could finish what she said, the box dropped back into her hold and the elderly man -still glowing like some sort of deity- held her over the railing and dropped her into the rushing water below. She hit the surface with a loud splash, getting thrown under but quickly resurfacing a few feet away, miracle box still in her arms.

The last thing she saw before being pulled away by the fast moving current was the man falling backwards to the ground in exhaustion as the light emitting from his skin dimmed.

Master fu slowly blinked his eyes open, carefully taking in his surroundings with an expression of pure shock and confusion on his face. He seemed so frail, all of a sudden. Like he had lost all his fight.

“What did you do?!” a booming voice hissed behind him. He started to turn his head to look, but something beat him to it. All of a sudden, a hand tightened around his throat and picked him off the ground, nails digging into the thin skin of his neck.

“What- what’s happening?” Master fus strangled voice hardly escaped his lips. He tried to thrash his legs, do anything to get free, but a fatigue he couldn’t explain had overcome his muscles. Weakly prying at his attackers hands, panic began to set in. There wouldn’t be any escape. “Who are you?” he managed out in a pained mumble.

“I am the next guardian of the miraculous” the seething voice responded as nails began to break through his skin. “I am the consequences of your greatest mistake” the words rang through his head as his vision went black, and sickeningly warm blood poured from his throat.

Marinette struggled to hold her head above the surface and keep the container in her grasp as the river pulled her this way and that. Her mind raced and her lungs screamed, everything inside her begging to let go of that weird old man’s weird old box and save herself instead. Still, her grip remained glued to the sodden wood, as if she would rather drown than set the box free to face the waters’ wrath. Nothing was making any sense. And despite the deafening chorus of the racing water that surrounded her, the only thing ringing in her ears was the man’s words.

He had called her a hero. He had entrusted her with something clearly important to him. He had thrown her into the seine. He had been badly wounded. He had been a complete and utter stranger. What did everything mean? Suddenly, her feet felt solid ground beneath her, and she hurriedly moved to follow it. She pushed forward, focusing on reaching the bank that lay on the other side. Eventually Marinette was able to pull herself and the box from the water onto an empty platform beneath a bridge.

As soon as she was safely out of the water, Marinette threw herself backwards in exhaustion. She laid against the cool pavement underneath her and passed through all the events that had just occurred. What the fuck was this ‘miracle’ box? And why was she the ‘guardian’? Ignoring the new aches in her body, she sat upward and brought the box closer to her.

There she sat for a few moments, toying with the lid and gently tracing the intricate pattern displayed. Taking a deep breath, she slowly opened it.

“HELLO YOUNG MASTER” A loud chorus of voices rang out as a beam of light emitted from the open container and what looked like small differently colored masses of stars flew all around her. Marinette fell back onto her elbows, overwhelmed at the sudden sensory overload. Her vision was a blur of nauseating colors accompanied by what she could only imagine to be auditory hallucinations.

Before she had a chance to speak, to catch her breath or try and scream for help, the almost magical colorful masses slowed until they were still, then began to morph into a solid form. Marinette watched, intrigued and terrified, as these small creatures took shape in front of her. They each seemed to be a different animal, though they all shared an alien-like anatomy. Some had tails, others long whiskers and a few antennas. Two of them caught her eye, a sleek black cat and what she thought to be a ladybug (though it looked much more like some sort of bug-mouse combo).

As if the creatures could read her mind -which they could, for all she knew-, they began to speak in sync. “WE ARE THE KWAMI, MAGICAL BEINGS THAT CAN BESTOW POWERS UPON OUR WIELDERS.” They said, in an almost sing-songy voice.

“AND YOU, MARINETTE, ARE OUR NEW GUARDIAN.”

[shadowbriar]

Matt Murdock - Scratches

Pairing : Matt Murdock x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 2.2k Warning : Injuries, nothing graphics. Matt being dumb that he inflicts injuries to himself. A bit of angst I think. Synopsis : The lack of knowledge about her wellbeing is doing everything but put his mind at ease and Matt wasn’t sure how long he could live with such torture. Notes : Special work for my precious @basementsoup. I hope you like this Alex! ♡ If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Matt hated it.

He hated having to admit that he still needs her. That even after months of separation, the many helping hands he found and friends he could’ve come to, he still found himself scrambling back to her apartment. He hated that in the lowest moments in life, her soothing touch and gentle words were the only thing that helped him stay afloat.

But nothing beats the hatred he felt when he finally managed to get inside. He hated how there’s a new pot of sunflowers placed by the widow. He hated how the pictures on the walls are now gone, replaced with what seems to be mirrors and other wall decorations. He hated, the most, how his scent no longer lingers in the air.

Before he could drown himself deeper into the wallowing, the sound of keys jingling and door knob twisting were heard. His heart paced for a split moment. A short period of regret washes over him. Perhaps he shouldn’t have barged in tonight.

“Matt,” She called, surprise was evident in her tone. Her heart skipped a beat and Matt wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the reasoning for it; is she glad to finally see him again or is she hating their reunion?

“I broke your pot,” He says instead “I didn’t realise you'd done some redecorating.”

“Yeah, I, uh.. I needed a change of setting.” She answers as she takes off her coat, tossing her bag to the floor once she realises his bruised face “Oh, God, not again.”

Matt tries his best to suppress the blooming smile on his face as he feels her fingers examining his face, “It’s just a light scratch.”

“You always say that,” She protests “I can find you on your deathbed, bleeding away, and you’ll still say it’s just a scratch.”

“Has it ever been more than a scratch?”

Matt knew that she must be glaring at him right now. The change in her breathing is clear for him to tell that he’s bruised her patience. But even with annoyance and vexation boiling her blood, her care and worry for him will always overshadow it.

“Come, I’ll clean your wounds.” She says as she holds his arm.

A small kaleidoscope of butterflies flutters in his heart. She knew that he could navigate himself to the sofa. He only broke the pot because he wasn’t expecting any change of setting in her apartment but now that he knew, he’ll be sure to be more careful in moving around, so there’s truly no need of her to guide him this way. Yet again, why would he complain?

“What is it this time?” She asks as she went to the cabinet to get her aid kit “Fisk? Castle? Some thugs?”

“Would you believe me if I say I fell off the bed?”

She turns and eyes him with a glare.

“Alright, not the bed then,” He jests “Stairs. I fell down the stairs.”

“Not funny, Matthew.”

“What, can’t a blind man fall from the stairs?”

She lets out a sigh. Matt could sense her defeated shoulders from the way she dropped the aid kit, “You wouldn’t come here if you only fell from the stairs, Matt.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

Truth is Matt has tried his hardest to stop himself from seeing her. He’s fought every urge to jump out of bed at night and come to her. Every little thing in his life pushes him to get closer to her. Like a magnetic force he couldn’t seem to escape. He wanted to ask her what tea he should get from the grocery shop. He wanted to ask her if he should wear the blue or the red tie for the court trial the next day. He wanted to ask her if he could borrow some sugar though the trip to the grocery store is far closer than having to walk to her apartment.

Anything that happens in his life, he wanted to share it with her.

“I don’t want to have this conversation again, Matt.”

“I know,” He nods, licking his lips as he tries to show an apologetic smile “I’m sorry.”

Matt could feel the sofa shifting when she took a seat next to him. He could smell the water from the bowl on her lap and the rest of her aid kit that are now laid on the table. This feels painfully nostalgic. To have her tend his wounds yet for the first time, he knew that he won’t be getting the one true cure he needs — her kisses.

“Are there any other bruises or wounds than the ones on your face?” She asks as she begins cleaning his skin “One of these days you’re gonna need to get yourself a real professional help. Like a personal nurse or doctor. I won’t be here forever to help you.”

“Won’t you?”

“You’re not exactly the easiest patient to tend to,” She answers with a teasing smile “I’d say the chance is pretty high.”

“But I’m your only patient. You need a comparison to say that I’m the worst of your patients.”

“No one can be this much of a pain in my ass than you, Murdock. You know that.”

Matt only smiles at her remarks. He wanted to bask in this moment. To suffocate himself with her gentle touches. To hear the beat of her heart that has become his personal ballad. To know that no matter how far the distance between them grows, she will forever be his true north.

Her movement was put to a short halt when her fingers bruised his lips. He can’t see her but he hopes that the longing in his face is mirrored on her. That she misses the feeling of their lips touching. That she misses the feeling of his lips whispering sweet nonsense in her ear. That she misses him too.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” She says instead as she abruptly stands from her seat “If you don’t have any other injury, I think you’re good to go.”

Matt forces a laugh, “What just happened?”

“I don’t know, Matt, you tell me! What are you doing here?”

“I told you, I fell down the stairs.”

“Yeah, and you couldn’t have asked Foggy or Karen to help with your wound?” She asks, her volume slightly rising in frustration “Do you even feel those wounds? Because I know you have that superhero metabolism thing and I’ve seen you get worse injuries. You can’t just come here, spend half an hour to get to the other side of the city, just to get some bandaid for your scratches.”

Her heartbeat has gone frantic now. Matt could feel the frustration, the anger, the disappointment from all the words she uttered, but the most evident thing he could hear was how much she worries for him. How much she wanted to embrace him as she once did. How much she wanted to show him the love she hoards for him, even without saying it out loud.

It had been a few painful weeks leading up to their separation. He could hardly remember the last time he’s slept a wink. There’s always someone crying for help, someone screaming in agony, wailing in pain and despair that he just had to go out there and lend a hand. And even with all of his God gifted abilities, there’s only so much he could take before he succumbed to his demons. And unfortunately, this is one of the few battles he has to admit losing.

Even up till this moment, Matt still tries to convince himself that he didn’t regret ending things between them. It needed to be done. He had to make sure that the Daredevil and his business wouldn’t come between him and her. He needed to make sure that the enemies he made along the way would never find their ways to her. He needed to make sure that when the Daredevil himself had to make penance for his sins, he wouldn’t drag her along with him to hell.

And the only way he could save her is to cut the relationship clean.

But Matt is as much of a selfish man as the next person. He couldn’t keep away from her for too long. The thought of her moving on peels his skin when it should’ve given him the satisfaction and fulfilment. The way her shampoo no longer lingers on his pillowcase gives him nightmares. The distance that he thought would be her safety net soon turns into a limbo of anxiety and worry. The lack of knowledge about her wellbeing is doing everything but put his mind at ease and Matt wasn’t sure how long he could live with such torture.

“I didn’t lie when I told you I fell from the stairs,” He explains softly “I— I’ve been wanting to come and see you but I just— I don’t know how.”

Her heartbeat slows, completely focused on his words now.

“I thought about purposely messing up my laundry and calling you for help. I thought about using that wrong detergent for our— my blankets, but I know you’d never forgive me.” He confesses, a pathetic chuckle escaped his lips “I mean, I wouldn’t want to ruin those blankets, to be real. They’re precious to me. We use them for our movie nights.”

“So you figured you just fell down the stairs?”

He shrugs, a small embarrassed smile curved on his face, “I had to make sure you won’t kick me out and slam the door on my face.”

“You’re an idiot, Matthew.”

“I know.”

“No, I don’t think you do,” She seethes, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves and running a hand through her hair in frustration “You— You can’t just end things between us and suddenly barges into my apartment, begging me to clean your self-inflicted wounds. That’s not how things work, Matt. That’s— That’s cruel.”

And that’s when he feels it. The foul taste of salt from her tears slowly rolling down her cheeks. The night just keeps getting worse and worse, so it seems. It was never in his intention to make her cry though he’s got to admit that he’s done that one too many times. He only wanted to see her, to feel her touch one more time, not to cause an even greater pain to their gashing wound.

“What do you want from me, Matt?” She painfully asks, her voice cracks from the heartache “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Is that what you want? For me to leave you alone?”

A bitter laughter escapes her lips, “I want you to love me, but that’s clearly not on the table, so I suppose being left by you would be the best option.”

Carefully, Matt stands from his seat and walks toward her. He reaches for her face, feeling the wetness of her cheeks under his calloused fingers. It pains him to see her this way. To know that he’s caused her more pain than happiness. All because he thought he knew better when clearly he didn't.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you,” He confesses “It’s because I love you that I ended things between us.”

Matt could feel the skin on her forehead scrunching, clearly from the confusion of his words.

“It was becoming unsafe for you to be with me. I made too many enemies, too many people that wanted to avenge their anger to me and it was only a matter of time before they knew about the one thing that would hurt me most and I can’t— I can’t risk that.”

“So I’m, what? A weakness?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you are my weakness,” Matt says with a nod “And I couldn’t care less about having a weakness, believe me I don’t care about my soft spots, but you..” He pauses, cupping her face gently as his eyes become glossy “You.. You, I cannot ignore. Just the thought of someone, laying a hand on you, hurting just a strand of your hair.. It drives me nuts. I care more about you than anything. So if staying away from you is the only option I have, if it’s the only way I can minimise the risk of harming you..”

A tear finally rolled down his cheek. It feels liberating to finally confess all of his reasoning, to finally let her know the cause of his discourteous actions, but there’s still no solution to their problem. There’s still a huge question mark for them to tackle and he wasn’t sure if he���s ready to reach that point yet. He wanted to still feel her touch, to hear her calling his name even if they’re filled with her venomous tone.

“Matt—”

“Tell me,” He cuts in, trying to recollect himself from the turmoil “Do you want me to leave? Would it be best for me to leave you be?”

“No, no I never want you to leave.” She answers as she pulls him for a hug, burying her face to his chest and wetting his shirt with her tears “Don’t leave me, please.”

Matt welcomes the embrace in no time. He pulls her close, making her stand on her tippy toes as he lifts her. He misses this. The warm scent of her perfume, the pressure of her on his body, the feeling of her heart beating against his chest. This feels like home. She feels like home.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers to her ear “I’m sorry for everything.”

“I don’t need your apologies, Matt. I just need you to promise you’ll stay this time.”

He nods eagerly, pulling her impossibly close to make sure that she hears him, “I promise.”

[silvervioletvalentine]

🖤☠️Sick in love ☠️🖤

Pairing : Max Verstappen x teammate Cherrie!

Word count : 5k

Summary: - @be-your-coffee-pot so i have this little idea where like cherrie is like a driver for redbull right with max and they do not get along because they're both hard headed little shits. but this once before a race shes gets rly sick with high fever and what not and shes almost completely out of it during the interviews and press conferences and max cant help but yk coddle her a little bit. and they're on the couch with the rest of the drivers during the press conference and shes leaning against him and she just falls asleep and max falls in love lmao

Warnings/ AN- just fluff basically. Max and Cherrie are petty little bitches to each other . I hope you like it! @be-your-coffee-pot !! 🦋 I strayed a little tiny bit away from the plot but this is what I came up with in my sleep deprived , who the hell am I, how am I still awake. Oh my god it’s night time , form! So enjoy! It’s not edited because I can’t be bothered and that’s just not me. Lemme know what u think coxo

When Cherrie woke up that morning it was to her skin layered with horrible sweat , feeling like her blood was boiling yet as she wiped at her face with her trembling hand, all she felt was cold and clammy .

Groaning in misery to herself as she sniffled her way through getting ready , only managing to pull on a redbull hoodie before she was stumbling out of her room to see her assistant waiting for her , a look of concern immediately washing over her face at the sight of her driver .

Jenny gasped , taking in cherries pale skin and bright red cheeks.

Looking like a blushing bride despite the fact that Jenny had seen the most hottest of men flirt with her all summer, and not once had her cheeks even tinged with colour .

"You're sick." She stated the obvious in concern , knowing how stubborn Cherrie was and how much she hated being sick.

She liked to go into denial about it whenever she was ill, claiming that she was fine and that the flu and bugs going around never affected her. Like she was some superhero with powers to divert viruses and bugs from kids that never washed their fucking hands before touching things.

It was bound to happen sometime and yet Cherrie refused to admit it, she had work to do after all.

She didn't have time to be sick.

"I am not." She refused to be.

Head feeling heavy and the room spinning slightly as she clutched onto the table , blinking as slowly as she could as she tried to clear her foggy head.

"This is all Max's fault." She croaked out in distain as she let her body fall into one of the chairs heavily , sniffling again. Swearing that she saw the kettle move and dance out of the corner of her eye , but when she glanced over at it again. It had not.

She swallowed dryly , then winced to herself in pain as she felt sharp pin pricks in her throat .

"Fucking bastard." She sniffled again . Sounding like she had out a peg over her nose , barely able to breathe.

Jenny just rolled her eyes, hands on her hips , ready to hear what max had done this time to get the blame. Used to hearing the both of them bitch at eachother and about each other at every chance they got.

You would think that with max and Cherrie being teammates, that they would get along just fine . Both of them world champions and both of them leading nearly every race , always a redbull 1-2. And yet...despite everyone's wishful hopes . That just didn't happen at all.

Instead , Cherrie, with her usual attitude and terrible humour , had taken it up to herself to tell max exactly what she thought of him at the time.

Coming straight from Mercedes , she had not been his biggest fan at all.

But hey, she wanted to be a winner and she knew that redbull was the only way that she would be going fast enough to do so, so when checo was out , she was in without any hesitation.

And it might have went well had she been able to shut herself up. But Cherrie had a problem with keeping every bad thought and opinion in her head, having lacked a filter since the day she could say 'fuck' and 'you' in The same sentence.

Max just happened to be at the end of her target this time around and he was like a walking orange dot for her to focus on, refusing to leave him be. Going out of her way to annoy him, on and off the track.

She just couldn't help herself. It was too easy.

But it wasn't all her fault because max was exactly the same way. Both of them too stubborn and hardheaded , way too blunt with awkward humours that most other people just never understood .

They clashed like the red bulls that they were .

Max gave it back to her just as much as she did. He didn't hesitate in insulting her back, picking at every little thing that she did or said just to see the way she would immediately flare up and glare at him, threatening him creatively each and every time .

It was entertainment to him, he could selfishly admit it to himself . And no matter how much times Christian had tried to force them to bond and just be nice , neither of them would give in. Much too prideful to admit that they were both at wrong and that they were both just bullying each other for the fun of it now.

And maybe max wouldn't have been so bitter and upset if Cherrie hadn't started dating the biggest prick around after a particularly nasty fight they had.

Max , at the time, had stupidly took a low shot at her lack of relationships , telling her meanly that 'no man would ever want to put up with her bullshit'. When what he wanted to say was 'I want to put up with your bullshit but we can't stop bullshitting each other enough to even have a conversation.'

And he should have known that he hasn't won that argument when she just levelled him with a cold look and walked up . He had naively forgotten how petty she was . Because she had taken it up a extra level and come straight back with a brand new boyfriend to shove in his face , far too smug and pleased with herself as she watched the look of anger and annoyance on his face when she brought him to the garage , kissing him right in front of max until he stormed off in a rage .

He had dnf'd that race and things hadn't ever been the same since then. Their bickering and fighting had only gotten worse to the point where her assistant tried to pull her away from max as much as possible.

But only so much was possible at the end of the day . He was literally her teammate , it was in her contract to work with him and be around him. And that included doing videos and joint interviews together , she barely ever not go to see his stupid face. It was irritating.

"Where the ghost?" Cherrie croaked out , head pounding as she looked blearily down at the plate of food in front of her that jenny had made.

Her assistant paused, then blinked slowly "ghost?" She repeated in disbelief "what the hell are you talking about?" She looked around the room with worry as though an actual ghost was going to pop up and scare them.

But Cherrie just frowned back at her, looking equally as confused. "My toast. Jenny." She whined .

Jenny sighed loudly , hand on her face with worry . "You are so sick! Are you sure you're going to be well enough for today?" She worried .

Cherrie sniffled "but I didn't say that." She denied , slowly blinking . "I'm fine."

She then began to slowly eat her breakfast , toast included , in silence . Barely able to keep her eyes open.

Yet she still managed to let out a loud groan of misery when Jenny told her just who she was paired up with in interview today.

"No!" She whined , practically pouting. "Why are you torturing me like this Jenny? Don't you like me?" She turned into a baby when she was sick. Looking like she might cry as she peered over at her with wide eyes.

Jenny just sighed , used to her shit by now. rubbing at her head in stress. "Just play nice okay? Don't make this harder for yourself Cherrie. You're already sick, don't let max give you an even bigger headache than you have ."

Cherrie just groaned again.

Max actually paused what he was doing when he saw her sluggishly walk into the room, his brows furrowing deeply as he scanned her from head to toe. Worry tugging at his chest as he took in her dropped eyes and pale face , looking like a absolute mess.

He told her so "you look terrible ." He stated , shocked .

"What the hell is wrong?" He demanded to know coming over to her .

Cherrie just huffed tiredly , smiling a little because she has taken some strong pain meds right before they left the hotel and she could already feel them kicking in. Her head felt like it was floating away and her chest tickling like she was going to giggle.

But max was there, standing in front of her and looking at her like she had grown an extra head.

So she frowned back at him while scowling . "So lovely." She sarcastically replied "it's a surprise that you're not a virgin if that's how you speak to ladies." She said bluntly .

Max rolled his eyes , crossing his arms over his chest. Not taking his eyes away from her .

"It's a Surprise that you're not single. What kind of boyfriend lets you leave like this, when you're clearly not well?" He threw back at her, annoyed and hating that he felt so damn concerned in the first place.

He shouldn't care at all. She was a pain in his ass and practically loved to annoy him. So why did he want to carry her back to the hotel, wrap her in a blanket and cuddle her like a baby until she was well again?

That was a weird thought . He swallowed a little . Quickly pushing it away.

"I am single now." She let him know blandly as she pushed past him to head over to the couch set up for their interview .

"So I'm going to fuck all your closest friends." She told him with a grin, practically throwing herself down onto the couch. Yawning and sniffling , coughing too.

Max's frown deepened "you are not." Then he realised what she had said and had to fight back a smile . "He dumped you?" He sounded gleeful even to his own ears.

Cherrie glared at him for it "no!" She groaned out "I dumped him. He just wasn't scratching that itch anymore." She complained, giggling. Looped from the meds.

Max paused, then said "get a back scratcher then." Smartly like the ass that he was.

Cherrie just snorted "the itch is not on my back it's in my-"

Max let out a high pitched noise and quickly shut her up. Sitting down next to her. "Shut up! I didn't care. I don't want to hear it." He exclaimed , face flushing.

He then smacked his palm over her forehead , startling her . But his face was cold with concentration .

"You burning up! What is wrong with you?!" He exclaimed , worried. Brushing her hair away from her sweaty face without even thinking about it.

Cherrie slapped his hand away without missing a beat , "it's 'cause I'm so sexy. Like a fire ball. I am fire- so I'm hot- like- like.."she was looped and max didn't know whether to be endeared or scared by her behaviour . "Like the sun." She finished off , sneezing .

Max groaned a little , still frowning at her . Then the interviewer came in and he wiped the Worry from his face , not wanting the cameras to see him looking at her like that.

So he stared straight ahead instead , crossing his arms over his chest so he wouldn't do something as stupid as hold her hand.

"If you get me sick, I will kill you." He muttered.

Cherrie just snorted , coughing. "No you won't. You're too soft to kill me. You'd cry." She replied simply . Believing it .

Max just huffed but didn't bother to deny it. He may have enjoyed winding her up but murdering her was a little too far .

Maybe giving her a good shake  when she was acting up.

"Fuck you." He mumbled instead. Lamely.

Cherrie laughed "you wish. Grow balls first , i like sucking em." She joked.

Max went red , gasping and smacking her leg , flustered by her lack of filter. She had No shame at all. Giggling at the look on his face.

"There's something wrong with you Cherrie." Be hissed at her. Placing his hand over his cheek so that she couldn't see him blush. How embarrassing.

But come on. Hearing a beautiful woman tell you that she liked to suck balls was going to make any straight man squirm.

He was just a man after all. He wasn't immune to her beauty , just intimidated by her lack of charm, it was like dealing with the devil.

"Yeah." She looked at him like he was stupid "I'm sick."

He groaned. "So you admit it! You are sick!" He smugly responded .

But Cherrie just shook her head , sniffling agin. "I didn't say that."

"Yes you did!" He looked incredulously at her, mouth dropping open.

She blinked "no I didn't. Don't lie max. Your Pants can't take anymore fire."

He groaned.

By the time dinner time came around, Cherrie was well and truly sick of max verstappen. And Baffled and so fucking confused. Because he wouldn't leave her the hell alone.

He had taken to taking her temperature every fifteen minutes. Mumbling underneath his breath and forcing her to drink cold water when it didn't go down quick enough for his liking .

Then he was forcing her to tell him what she had been eating and if she had been anywhere that she could have gotten a deadly virus from. Hand cupped over her forehead in her worry , having followed her back around . Like a needy puppy looking for it's owner , Cherrie was exasperated.

She looked up at him in disbelief "I've only been where you've been max! What's wrong with you?" She moaned moodily . Head pounding.

She shoved his hand off her head , again, and stomped straight to the couch, laying on it. Closing her eyes and ignoring him.

He placed his hands on hips and glared down at her . Almost biting his nails out of worry the whole morning . She was clearly out of it , otherwise she wouldn't have even let him into her motor home in the first place.

It literally had 'no max fartstappen allowed' written in marker on the front . Yet here he was, and he was worried and trying to deny why he was so worried for in the first place.

It wasn't going very well.

And now he was making her honey tea and wondering if he could call out a doctor without her realising he had done so.

"Cherrie! You've called me maxie twice!" He exclaimed like that was enough evidence for Him

to be like this. Coddling her like a Damsel in distress.

She just shoved her face further into the pillow, frowning tiredly . "So?" She mumbled.

He huffed "so?" He scoffed while gently pulling her body up so that she would sit up right.

Ignoring her complaining and her glare, he lifted the teacup to her lips. Glaring back at her just as hard when she refused to take a sip.

"drink it Cher. It'll help your thirst. It has

honey In it ." He told her sternly , tapping it against her lips, not giving up.

She eventually gave in with a another stubborn groan, sipping at it while he held the cup up to her lips. Hand on the back of her hand to keep her steady so she didn't spill it. Like it was a totally normal thing for him to do.

It was not.

He continued in quietly "you've called me maxie and you usually call me asshole. So you're clearly dying." He stated. Serious as shit.

Cherrie sniffled, side eyeing him judgmentally . Heart pinching a little as she saw the way he was looking at her , his thumb rubbing soft circles in the back of her stiff neck without even realising it. Trying to make her feel better .

"Why do you even care? This is your fault anyways!" She accused him. Coughing.

He groaned, side eyeing her straight back. He should have known she would rope him into the blame somehow .

"how?!" He raised his voice a little then winced to himself when she winced in pain , quickly lowering his voice again . "How?"

She turned her stuffed nose up at him "you covered me in cold champagne in the rain!"

Max glared at her "because you won! Lando did it too!" He was incredulous .

She just  huffed stubbornly, because when In doubt blame a man . "But you did it with Cruel intention' you wanted me to get sick so you could win!"

He glared at her, taking the now empty cup away from her lips. Then flicking at her chin with his fingers making her flinch , wide eyed .

"I can win with you not sick, thank you! You think that I want to hear you whine about like chewbacca?!" He shot back at her. Annoyed at her stupid accusations. She was just grasping at straws, wanting someone to be annoyed at .

She gasped then , insulted . Wide eyes glaring  at him "I do not sound like chewbacca!" She cried out.

He smirked "you kinda look like him too." He said. Then laughed as she hauled a cushion at his head.

"Get out asshole!" She snapped. Too tired to shout.

Max just rolled his eyes playfully , watching as she laid back down. He placed a pillow in his lap, patting it. Casually

She ignored him.

"No. I'm not leaving." He stated seriously . Patting his lap again.

She side eyed him "I'll Hurt you." She threatened him. Sniffling loudly .

Her nose was red and eyes droopy, max felt his heart soften. She was always beautiful but now she just looked cute.

He stifled a grin. Knowing how much she would hate being called cute.

"What you gonna do? Sneeze on me?" He responded smugly . "Shut up. Come here." He patted his lap again, impatiently this time.

She let out a mocking laugh "fuckoff. I'm Not lying I'm your lap." She muttered, yawning, blinking and seeing three Max's.

She blinked hard again, and saw just one max looking down at her , sighing loudly at her stubbornness .

"I'll fuck off after you've had a nap." He promised her.

"You'll smother Me In My sleep." She let him pull her up and position her so that her head was in his lap instead. Too tired and head hurting too much to fight him on it physically  , but her mouth did.

"Bastard." She huffed.

Max just rolled his eyes , tapping his fingers gently against her forehead . "I'll smother you for real if you keep arguing with me. Just shut your fucking eyes so I can leave you sooner. You're getting on my nerves." He told her, twirling her hair around his finger. In awe by how soft it was.

She punched his thigh, he gently tugged her hair . She closed her eyes, huffing tiredly.

She was asleeep in minutes. And max didn't leave.

Hours later and she was still so sick and so tired and max was coddling her, it was weird and strange and they were getting looks from everybody that saw them together .

But she was too sick too care , just giving in and letting him baby her. She couldn't find it in herself to complain this time.

Maybe when she could finish a sentence without coughing her guts up , she would tease him for his level 100 clinger personality that had suddenly appeared .

The way he wouldn't leave her side, holding a flask of soup in his hand that he had made just for her after searching up a recipe on his phone when she was sleeping . He made her drink it from the small cup as they waited for their next press conference.

"You look like you're dying." He winced as she coughed horribly again "sound like it too." He added unhelpfully  .

She groaned a little, leaning into his side and sipping the soup slowly . Barely able to keep her eyes open.

"You loook like that all the time. What's your excuse maxie?" She weakly resorted back.

She missed the way his cheeks flushed at the nickname falling so easily from her lips, clearing

his throat and placing his hand on her arm to steady her. Just as Daniel saddled up to them, looking far too amused for his liking .

Cherrie paid him no mind but max saw the teasing look on his face and sighed long and hard ,

Knowing just what was coming.

He flushed bright red "what?" He defensively snapped at him already .

Daniel just laughed loudly "nothing!" He grinned smugly , then watched as max made her take some more painkillers. Taking her temperature again like a worried mother hen.

"You a doctor now?" He teased him.

Max just huffed "shut up." He muttered . "She's sick and I don't want to get sick too." He said.

Daniel giggled "then maybe you shouldn't be standing so close to her then. I'm surprised you're not giving mouth to mouth yet." He joked.

Then dodged the empty flask cup flying at his head. Laughing the whole time.

Cherrie was completely out if by the time the press conference was happening, body sagging against Max's on the couch. Not paying any attention and just mumbling her barely there answers , max answering most of them for her without missing a single beat . His media training kicking in perfectly .

Then she eventually went quite and he glanced down at her for a moment , feeling a heavy weight falling on-top of his shoulder. His eyes widening in surprise and cheeks flushing bright red as he noticed that she had drifted off too sleep on him, lips parted with small breaths. Frowning a little still in her sleep.

He gently smoothed the frown from her pretty face away with his thumb. Smiling a little to himself at the grumble she let out, squeezing his arm between her own as she cuddled up against him. Out if it, mumbling nonsense beneath her breath.

Then he looked up and caught Daniels eye,

His friend smirking at him as he held up his phone to take a picture for evidence . The other drivers looking between the two teammates that 'hated' each other in shock.

Charles was blinking at him In disbelief "but she called you a dirty, two faced, lying sloth last week." He was gaping, gobsmacked by the sudden change.

Max just flushed a even darker shade of red .  Not answering .

Then lando was giggling at him Knowingly  "-and you said that she was the most annoying person you had ever met. That you wouldn't touch her even if someone paid you." He pointedly glanced down at his arm around her shoulders and the way he was placing his hand Gently on Her forhead to check her temperature again.

He quickly dropped his hand and cleared his throat awkwardly "that was last week." He muttered , swallowing audibly .

Embarrassed to be caught acting like this in front of his friends. "And I don't need to be paid to touch her." I'd do it for free . Beg if I had to. He thought.

The sudden realisation was shocking and he actually flinched in shock to himself , hissing a little beneath his breath as he froze up just as she startled awake. Glaring up at him dazedly , hair sticking up and face sweaty. Delirious and sick.

"Max! For Fucks sake!" She whined , still

half asleep.

Pushing at his shoulder weakly . "Have you got worms you asshole?" She sniffled. Rubbing at her tired eyes like a child .

Max blushed , heart pounding in his chest as he just Looked at her with wide eyes, mouth gaping open a little bit.

Because what the fuck was this?

"Shut up." He weakly replied. Catching Daniels eyes again, his friends wiggling His brows teasingly .

He was So completely fucked. Oh my god.

The only problem with realising his feelings was that max had a problem with keeping his Mouth shut. The words were practically tearing at his lips as he carefully led her back to her hotel room, not taking no for an answer .

He made her another hot tea , placed a wet flannel over her head and tucked her into her bed without even blinking . Like this was normal, like he did this all the time.

He did not. But he wanted to.

He swallowed thickly as he looked down at Cherrie then , taking in her drooping eyes and red rosy cheeks, hair a mess on the top of her head. He felt his heart pound in his chest.

A year of being teammates  and it was just hitting him now ? Jesus Christ! What the fuck?

His mind raced just as fast as his heart was and he couldn't hold it in. He felt like his brain was going to explode.

"Cherrie?" He spoke up quietly after Clearing his throat awkwardly . Stood by the end of her bed still , hands shoved into his pockets as he looked down at her tired frame in the soft sheets.

She hummed, coughing a little . "Yeah?" She didn't even Open her eyes.

He took a deep breath and then without even thinking about it , his heart opened straight up.

"I love you." He blurted it out bluntly . Cringing deeply to himself as he did so . Face a permanent bright red as he tensed up, eyes wide and feeling like he was a bit to have a heartattack and keel over right in front of her.

His nerves got the better of him and he started rambling . "I mean- it's weird but I am so in love with you and that's why I was so mad when you got a boyfriend. Because I wanted to be your boyfriend and thats stupid because we hate each other-"

"We don't hate eachother." Cherrie simply

muttered. Still not opening her heavy eyes, but there was smile tugging at her lips.

Max swallowed thickly "yeah _ well-I love you. Okay?" He finished up weakly. Feeling sick to his stomach .

He watched as she took a deep Breath , shaking her head a little with a small smile on her face, cracking open one eye to look at him.

She hummed a little "max?"

He exhaled shakily "yeah?"

"Can you tell Me that you love when I can breathe through both nostrils again?" She casually replied. Smiling softly at him. Fondly.

Max rapidly nodded his head, laughing nervously  . Biting down on his bottom lip as he felt a rush of hope and excitement fill him.

"Yeah of course! Sounds good. Sounds like a plan. I like plans. Okay." He nodded his head again. Smiling widely at her.

Then he thumbed over his shoulder and awkwardly shuffled to the door "I should go. You need to rest." He stated , still grinning happily .

He opened the door, heart pounding in his chest. His head quick to snap back over to her when she quietly called to him

"Max??"

"Yeah?"

"I love you." She told him easily , yawning. Then coughed again. Ruining the sweetness but it was more than enough for him.

Max smiled giddily, laughing a little nervously . "Cool. Cool. Yeah okay! That's good- thank you." He rambled on. Giving her a thumbs up.

Cherrie laughed. Then coughed.

Max grimaced to himself at how lame that was , face a dark red by now. He hesitated at the door, about to leave.

"Can I-" he took a deep breath to gather his courage "can I kiss you when You feel better please ?" He asked her quietly, face hopeful.

His grin filling his face when she sleepily nodded her head. "Sounds like a plan maxie."

He sighed happily "cool."

"Now get out. Come tell me you love me tomorrow." She croaked . Already falling asleep again. The meds kicking in.

Max nodded excitedly . Feeling like a teenager in love all over again.

"Cool. Love you." He blurted out , happy. Then he slammed the door shut behind him, fist bumping the air as he laughed gleefully too himself .

Exhaling loudly  , he then held his hand over his pounding chest.

He sighed shakily "holy shit. She loves me." He breathed out. Grinning like a maniac .

Who thought that it would only take her getting sick to get them to admit it?

[toastess-with-the-mostess]

Let's Rewind! Toast watches Voltron Defender of The Universe (1984)

Season 1, Episode 29: Magnetic Attraction Season 1, Episode 30: The Sleeping Princess

Episode 29: Magnetic Attraction

Defensive training time! The team are doing Karate together I only got to a yellow belt myself because of how expensive lessons were, but it was fun either way

"I flipped Lance easy, and I'm a girl" "I fall for girls" Lance just say you like women who can kill you Once again we see Allura pointing out the fact she's a lady,,, I will never get over the back handedness of those comments

Oh my bad it's Judo! I've never done that one before

Great, nanny and Coran are here to tell Allura she's being improper again, and he thinks it's a good idea to guilt-trip her with her dead dad dude when will you learn that you can't stop her, she's literally doing worse by being a solider, protecting herself is the least she should know since even her guards can't handle when Lotor is after her

More misogyny from the team, the show really do be a product of its time 💀

The one good thing Coran does is warn other people to get to safety, but then proceeds to say "it's nothing, definitely not weird that a freaky orange and red cloud is slowly spreading over the sky of Arus when it's noon" if he doesn't die of old age I'm killing him myself

Oh so the cloud is rapidly causing global warming, eco terrorism is horrifying

Why the hell is there a group of people washing themselves in the last remaining water of a boiled away lake? im not sure if dotu will ever answer that but golion will later on

robeast so hot it melts missiles, and the team is immediately going to fly up to it except allura can't launch because blue has no power from the surrounding water which got boiled away oh shit this is actually a good plan on Haggars part

Ooh we get to see a crystal that probably helps power blue lion! Maybe that's where the nexus idea in VF came from!

Alfor ex machina, i can't remember the last time we saw you but it's been a hot minute hasn't it

HOLY SHIT LORE Black gets powered by lightning/electricity, Red gets powered from the heat of lava/magma, Yellow is also magma but more earth dependent, Green is powered by wind, and blue obvs is powered by water like i knew all this already but i love the fact i get to listen to it now

Coran finally thinks of protecting Allura against Lotor and attacks through castle defenses,, except not that it works because Lotor just attacks Allura who is still stuck in her lion as long as she stays inside I assume she's safe but man she's not having a good day

Lance is a smart cookie! He plans to make a path with their own magnetic laser in order to get up to the robeast Now only if he made more plans like that, the fights would be easier me thinks

Lotor doesn't want to hurt Allura, yet actively sends missiles at blue lion while she can't move I hope your dad beats you ong

wait did the team not know that they needed water to launch blue? ok that makes sense actually since they don't know anything about the lions and their mystic nature kind of late in the episode to realize that though

GIRL WHY ARE YOU OPENING THE HATCH FOR THE MECHANICS OF BLUE TO LET WATER RUSH IN, I DON'T THINK THAT'S HOW IT WORKS BUT OK Blue lion is back anyway so I guess it worked

Voltron formed, robeast defeated, and global warming cloud dispersed, so water can come back, the GIF for this episode is going to be great

DAMN ZARKON TRASHING HIS SON FOR THINKING FOR HIS DICK AGAIN

"My beloved nincompoop" LMAOO

/episode end

Episode 30: The Sleeping Princess

Lotor has a nightmare about a woman he says is Allura but very obviously isn't, especially when she does fade into Allura's design, probably his mother This man really obsessed with Allura

PRINCESS CORRAL MY BELOVED, LOTOR IS A SLUT FOR TURNING HER DOWN SHE'S SO CUTE

"Stop whining, you have no feelings" -Zarkon get his ass

Lotor stop making batshit excuses for not marrying her, you'll be unhappy either way good god

At least Zarkon knows that he'll fail his mission against Arus, if he just held on a little longer lotor wouldn't be a problem but nope

Look at her, she's such a sweetie! She's even helping Lotor try to marry Allura, a mistake, but she's got her heart in the right place

"I want Allura to come willingly, [but] she lives in terror of my father" Lotor she's afraid of YOU, this is man is all kinds of delusional

Another flashback of the Not Allura woman, still think it's his mom, and she's definitely Arusian which is probably why Lotor has so much obsession for Allura

Flower picking time! Gotta give the pretty princess some pretty flowers to match! The boys are so wholesome

Ah, shit the cat fucked over a blue lion pilot again, what is with that cat against the color blue, now Allura is presumed dead and everyone is freaking out about it

Of course Keith pieces it together that she can't be dead as long as Lotor is still after her, which yeah makes sense but c'mon any other guy see through it please

Hunk makes a plan! Fake funeral for the princess to lure Lotor and Haggar out I'd love it if the team got more scenes like this, everyone is smart enough to contribute somehow

Oh shit Orla attended her funeral! That's nice to see

Keith you're such a simp for Allura, yes, yes we get it Allura is a girlboss and is an amazing leader

What a sweet idea, people throw flowers into Allura's casket and almost filled it to the brim maybe it's tradition for every Arusian, that'd be cool

Lotor hijacks the carriage Allura's casket is being transported in, sucks for him though BECAUSE PIDGE MANAGED TO HITCH A RIDE GET HIS ASS PIDGE

Rip Pidge gets used as a hostage EXCEPT ITS PIDGE VS HAGGAR AGAIN BECAUSE HE HAS A GRENADE ON HIM Oh god this kid is about to sacrifice himself if it means making sure Allura is safe and taking down one of the baddies, where's that post about dotu Pidge being suicidal

"I oughta feed you this" (proceeds to run at Lotor and Hagar with a live grenade) "PIDGE FOR PETES’S SAKE DITCH THE GRENADE" - Keith "WANNA SEE WITCHCRAFT?!" oh my god, everything is happening all at once

Grenade explodes, it was knocked out of pidge's hand beforehand, so he dove for Allura to protect her as best he could still so sweet even under all that pressure

Lotor and Haggar run away and Allura's awake, so all's well that ends well I guess Pidge finally gets a real kiss on the cheek from Allura, good for him

LOTOR STOP BULLYING CORRAL, SHE WANTED TO HELP BUT YOU FUCKED UP SO MARRY SOMEONE WHO ACTUALLY LOVES YOU YOU FOOL

/episode end

[baekhvuns]

I HEAR AN ANON FELT BAD ABT SOMETHING!!! 🤸🧍

Oooohhh imma just say anon, i believe sometimes we hear things the other person doesn't really means, I'm not sure how your friend has treated you in the past or if she's said tht to you consistently so maybe that's why it made you feel bad when she mentioned her 'bf' and that's totally fine trust me I've had frnds too tht out of nowhere bring it something I rlly don't want them to mention. But hear me out, you gotta enjoy your life to the fullest!! WITH YOUR KPOP BOIS AND MANHWA DRAWINGS!! I bet you're soulmate is out there rn, wanting to find someone perfect for him...and then here you are and you hv no idea. Believe in the universe, Destiny literally never plays. anyways where cn i read tht fic-

--------------------------------------------------

AND NOW ABT MISS BAEKS...YOUR NAME IS KIRA?!?!? Lmfaooo I've seen those memes where they say trash + trash and trash no 1 is soveishu and trash no 2 is rashta.

Hehehehe you thought I'll make only for San??? BWAHAHAHAAHA *devil laugh*

OMG UNDERCOVER EMPRESS AND THIEF SAN??!?? IM- 🤌🤌 GURL YOU HV LITERAL GEMS!!! DIAMONDS!!! :00 NOT THE YSL PERSONA 😭😭

But marques falhan..😧 I'm gonna give them the title of yunho (kosair) and jongho (falhan) although I'm still not sure but Hey it works. HOLY BANOLY WHAT IN THE FRICKITY FRACKITY FUCK IS WRONG WITH THIS RASHTA?!?!?! THE AUDACITY, SHE HAS TO CALL NAVIER INFERTILE INFRONT OF HER AND KOSAIR?!?!?! kosair buddy, unleash yourself...kill her. When soveishu realises the big mistake he made, how rashta never loved him, how all she ever desired was the riches and power, he's gonna....he's gonna regret it so much I hope he gives up his title. "The empress said I was worthless first"

OHMYGOD IM- 💀 WTF IS WRONG WITH THIS EMPEROR HE BELIEVES EVERY THING THT TRASHTA SAYS? (this is so soap opera coded tho) Ok forget I said this soap opera coded it reminds me of the crown. There.

The way I feel so envious and so boiled up every time I see any scene of rastha and soveishu...it makes me think if navier was real, what would she be going through? My girl is crazy strong, soveishu really lost a gem, Heinrey was right. [Omg I just saw McKenna transform frm his bird form to human form and OH MAN- 🛐]

I feel like Duke ergi is basically fooling rashta and she's following him, digging her own grave Bcz she in the end has no intellect whatsoever, she's blinded by power and she'd do anything to achieve it, which will eventually lead to her downfall.

no fr dad's are literally so confusing??!?; the other day, I was eating my breakfast while watching TV and my dad comes into the living room, watches me for a while, like he literally stared at me while he stood in front of me so I stopped...obv thinking what was wrong and then i slowly took in the spoon filled with cereals and he went "what's tht way of eating??" AND I WAS LIKE WHAT?! 😭😭 he said "why can't you eat normally??" And I was like bro u caught me off-guard?!?! Then he just patted my head, gv out a chuckle and left?!?!

OMG GURL THE BL'S UPDATE IS HERE!!! IMMA GO READ IT!! AGHHHHHHHHHHH HAEBOM APPEARED SHIRTLESS AHHHHH ...girl his not even wearing his bottoms- wow the confidence to show up almost naked infront of sungho and just a towel hanging down here like?!?! 😭 SUNGHO NOWS NOT THE TIME TO BE THINKING ABT WHAT U JUST SAW 😭 oh thanks god he's clothes omg..

HAEBOM HAEBOM JUST ASKED HIM FOR A SLEEPOVER AT HIS HOUSE AHHHH OMG THE EXCUSE WAS "SINCE THE BABY'S ALR ASLEEP" OH YOU SMOOTH MF!! Aw they're washing the dishes together 🤧 just get married alr ok, we're having some deep talks.

Haebom has a sad past...his mother was a kind soul but the villagers took advantage of her kindness and set their house on fire when he was a kid....hah no wonder he doesnt trusts anyone easily.

Lol he changed back to his persona 😭

OHHHHH SUNGHO GOT DISH SOAP IN HIS EYES I THINK IK WHATS ABT TO HAPPEN AHHHHH HAEBOM'S HELPING HIM BRO THEIR PROXIMITY ALL WHILE WHEN HAEBOM HIS SHIRTLESS 😭😭😭

....I bet sungho has realised something just now.."he has blue eyes I never noticed" BOI-

BRO HE JUST KISSED HIM!!! I REPEAT SUNGHO KISSED HAEBOM 😭😭😭 OMG IT HAPPENED :0 "my bad" 💀 pls-

"His lips are so soft" both of them thinking the same thing...while haebom is standing frozen in his place not moving an inch and sungho awkwardly ran off 😭

"Is something wrong with me? Am I dying" 😭 why is he like this??? Your heart is beating idiot YOU'RE IN LOVE HAEBOM!

tough man cried. ykw I bet he's just a baby inside with all that muscles and intimidating aura he has and I bet only sungho can calm that baby down who suffered the trauma of being all alone.

WOULD YOU BELIEVE THIS MAN CRIED?!?! 😭 I'm so soft for big men embracing their vulnerable and sensitive side.

Look tho I found some pictures of remarried empress and it has come to my attention THAT THIS IS A NOVEL AND THE FIRST PIC IS BASED ON THE NOVEL DESIGN LIKE DAMN-

Ohhh a bollywood movie?? No Bcz u were the reason I watched my first Bollywood movie AND ILL WATCH ONE AGAIN!

Life at work has been boring. Nothing new, no new interactions, don't even abt my uni tho, there is not one single person tht I like 😮‍💨 anyways, manifesting for all the hopeless romantics a ff typa love story!!

exactly!!!! & HELLO

YES IT IS HELLO 😭😭😭 jVCNDBWK NO SERIOUSLY SHE REALLY IS TRASH IM SO EXQUISITELY DISGUSTED BY HER 😭😭

PLEASE. OH MY GOD. KAUFMANS ENTIRE PERSONA IS SO MINGI IM ACTUALLY SCREAMIMG THE PICTURE—i ran around my room a little just now— he also sometimes reminds me of rm like this combo is gorgeous

CALLING NAVIER INFERTILE IS A DIRECT INSULT BC TO SOVIESHU BC WE ALL KNOW WHOS THE REAL ONE i just know heinry is gonna be all smirky when navier and he have a kid and rashta’s burning (did a little digging and looked up that they do in fact have kids 😭😭 and both r twins, lari & kai) navier is so mother

IT REALLY IS SO SOAP OPERA-ISH, it got all the dramatics of indian serials, turkish shows, telenovelas, kdramas and more like this combo is insane

yOOOOO MCKENNA IS A UNDERRATED BEAUTY !!!!!

no bc im also convinced, his eyes have this little glint of mischievousness,,, he & heinry are the duo, just like woosan 😭😭 i want him to lead to her downfall honestly

no bc dad lore is so fun???? LMFAOOOO THATS SO CUTE 😭😭😭 my dad looks very scary irl but i saw him yesterday w a cap on jumping to 50cent having his hands doing hang signs and i just “????”

oh to be sungho and see those muscles bfwmjdka “SINCE THE BABYS ALREADY ASLEEP” OKAY SIR OKAY OKAY TAKE US WITH, why are they so married couple core already

omg haebom 😭😭😭 WDYM “my bad” ????? YALL KISSED HOW IS IT MY BAD FHWNDJKSDKSL,, he really is a grumpy with his brightest sunshine 😔😔

HES SO HUGE STOP IT CHAERSSSS

LMFAOOOO THAT MEME FRHWKHDKW NAVIER JUST THERE JVDMSJCK

yes it is!!!! super controversial at that time but honestly a pretty good topic, it’s a 2000’s movie and yea worth a watch!!

no bc felt, everything’s boring these days maybe it’s the seasonal depression ya’know,, all we can do is manifest a love story with a man like wi ha joon in the worst of evil 🥰🥰

[wlwmarvelenthusiast]

Can u write an au where carol’s cat (goose) keeps sneaking into fem!reader’s apartment and so carol and reader communicate with each other thru notes they put on goose’s collar and they eventually fall in love (((:::::::

Goose's Best Friend

Summary: After a stranger's cat injured in your apartment one night, you decide to attach a short note to its collar to give your apologies. They lead to something you could have never expected.

Pairing: Army Pilot!Carol Danvers x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 2,792

It was the middle of the night, 2:57a.m., to be exact, when a loud crash shook you from the clutches of sleep. You sat up with a groan, rubbing your eyes to clear your vision enough to look at the clock on your nightstand. You swung your legs off the bed, eyes catching the shattered lamp on the ground. Fighting off the temptation to leave it on the ground for tomorrow, for fear that you might forget about it and slam your bare feet into the shards scattered around the floor, you slid your legs into some sweats and stood up.

You weren’t expecting, when you turned on the light, for something to move. When something darted around the corner you actually let out a high-pitched yelp, flying backwards and hitting your elbow hard off the corner of the nightstand. You felt tingling rush into the tips of your fingers as you tried desperately to comprehend what had just happened. Your breathing had already increased, and your heart was racing inside your chest. You took a hesitant step forward.

Despite being alone in the apartment, you flushed beet red in embarrassment when you found the creature you’d been so terrified of. The orange tabby cat stared up at you with wide eyes, letting out a quiet mew. Immediately your heart softened, its beat slowing down to a normal pace. When the cat made to step toward you, though, you immediately noticed the limp. Your eyebrows furrowed and you knelt down, letting it come to you. You reached out for its front leg, and it let you take it into your hand.

“Oh, sweet baby,” you muttered softly, wiping a bit of blood out of its fur with your thumb. “Come on. I think I have a first aid kit in the bathroom.”

It surely didn’t understand what you said, but it followed you when you stood up. It limped into the bathroom behind you, settling once it reached the tile floor. You reached into the cupboard under the sink and pulled out the red case, propping it up on the countertop and opening it up. Quickly, you located the roll of bandages and the scissors that came with it. You pulled it out and got some wet paper towels. Once more you knelt down on the ground next to the tabby.

A black collar around its neck caught your attention. You reached out for the silver tag that hung from it and spoke aloud. “Goose. Well, Goose, there’s no phone number here for your owner. Guess I’ll have to fix you up and trust you can find your own way home, huh?”

He meowed in response.

You continued to wrap up his leg. When you finally finished, you tucked the first aid kit away again. You clicked your tongue a couple times in an attempt to get him to follow you again. The both of you headed toward the kitchen, where you rummaged through the fridge for the leftover chicken from dinner the night before last. You pulled some out and set it in a small dish on the floor, a sort of apology for your lamp having done such damage to the poor animal’s leg. He helped himself quickly. Meanwhile, you dug through one of your drawers.

You popped the cap off a pen and cut a small strip of paper, struggling to keep your writing small enough to fit.

There was no number on the collar, so I opted for this. Goose found his way into my apartment and had an unfortunate mishap. I patched him up and gave him a treat. I hope that’s okay. He should be alright.

Hope he feels better soon.

You rolled the note around the tabby’s collar and taped it in place. He’d finished his treat by now, so you led him back to the apartment door. When you opened it, he cast one glance back at you, eyes shining as if in gratitude, then scurried down the hall. Just as he turned out of sight, though, someone else moved into your peripheral vision. You could have scoffed when you saw who had wandered into the hallway. She spoke before you could close the door.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

“Fuck off, Danvers.”

“Captain Danvers,” she hummed, a wide smirk on her face as she twirled her keys around her finger.

“In your dreams,” you scoffed. “And next time you’re using your stripes to get random women in bed, be a little quieter, would you? Some of us around here have self-respect.”

You closed the door before she could respond to that.

You and Carol Danvers had hated each other for as long as you’d lived there. The two of you were like hot and cold, or night and day. She liked loud music and late nights whereas you liked a nice book and an early night. You were quiet and soft-spoken, and Carol was a bully. In fact, she was your bully. You’d never endured such teasing and taunting from anyone else before. It wasn’t her harsh words that got to you, though. In fact, you weren’t entirely sure what it was that got to you. Maybe it was her arrogance, or maybe it was her ignorance for anyone around her. It didn’t matter.

Carol Danvers brought out a side of yourself that you didn’t know existed. You’d only have to hear a single word fall from her lips or see a glimpse of her from the corner of your eye, and instantly any semblance of a good mood would dissipate and fade into annoyance. The hatred you held for her made your blood boil in your veins at the mere sight of her stupid, cocky smirk. You sometimes wished you could just reach out and slap that stupid smirk off her stupid face.

You pushed the blonde from your mind, heading back to bed. Hopefully, the coming day would be one that didn’t involve the blonde captain.

*

It was three days later that a quiet meow caught your attention. It tore your gaze from the TV, and you glanced toward the source of the sound. The face that was watching you immediately brought a smile to your face. You pat the couch beside you and the tabby jumped up, settling onto the blanket. You ran your hand across his head, watching his eyes close in content. You were about to turn your gaze back to the TV when you noticed the paper around his collar. It wasn’t the same one you put there. You reached out for it and removed it, careful not to rip it, and unrolled it. You flicked on the lamp.

Sorry about him. He wanders around the building. This isn’t the first time he’s gotten into someone’s room. If you fed him, he’ll probably come back to you (which I don’t mind, so long as you don’t mind that he’ll keep coming back). That’s how I know you’ll get this. So, thank you for patching him up. The vet would’ve cost more. You were right. He was just fine.

Rolled up with it was a twenty-dollar bill. You chuckled, immediately standing up off the couch. You pulled a small treat out of the fridge as you passed it, Goose trotting into the kitchen at the sight. You handed it to him and he took it happily, chowing down as you stood up straight again and continuing on your journey toward the notepad on the counter. Once again you ripped a small piece of paper out of it, ripping the cap of the pen off with your teeth and holding it there as you brought the pen down to meet the paper.

It seems so. You were right. He came back. He’s a sweet boy. I truly enjoy his visits. I don’t get many of them, so he’s welcome here whenever he pleases. And I don’t need this. Keep it.

You knelt down on the ground to Goose once again. He sat still for you as you wrapped the bill around his collar, wrapped the note around it, and then taped them both in place. Once more, you led him back to the apartment door, opened it up for him, and let him into the hallway. He rubbed his head against your calf once more before dashing out of sight. You shut the door behind him.

*

You huffed as you stormed into the lobby of the apartment building. Work had not treated you well that day. All you wanted was to head upstairs, put on your coziest pyjamas, order takeout, cuddle into the couch, and watch a movie or two. It was all you needed to wash away the horrible day and ease the stress that was weighing so heavily on your chest. You only wanted to pick up your mail before you did, but apparently, the universe had other ideas.

“Looking for some mail from your mommy?”

Danvers was the last person you wanted to deal with today. You didn't even bother to grumble a response to your neighbour, who was still in uniform as she stepped up beside you and unlocked her own mailbox. You were going to step away without a single word, but once more, you didn’t get your wish. Carol snickered at something, making you slam your box shut with far more force than necessary.

“What, pray tell, is so fucking funny?” You snapped.

“Oh, nothing. Nothing. Nice keychain.”

The keychain was a souvenir one you’d gotten from your trip to Disney with your family a few years ago. It was a picture of you and your brothers all wearing Mickey Mouse ears and sticking your tongues out at the camera. If anyone else had said the words, you would have blushed and thanked them. When Carol said the words, you shoved the keys in your pocket and shot a glare so harsh that it would have killed if it could have.

“You’re a dick, Danvers.”

“Captain Danvers,” she corrected once more.

“Look, this whole army pilot thing might work on those girls you pick up from god knows where, but I’ve met you,” you sneered. “You use this uniform for detestable things, Danvers. It’s disgusting.”

You stormed away.

When you unlocked your door and stepped into your apartment, however, you found that you wouldn’t need pyjamas or takeout or movies to make you feel better. Your new best friend was sitting on your couch as if he had been waiting for you to arrive home. You dropped your bag at the door and moved to sit with him immediately. After stroking his head absentmindedly for a bit, you noticed the new note.

Take it. Please? Come on, you’re going to make Goose sad if you don’t. You’re going to make me sad if you don’t.

Attached with the note, again, was that same twenty-dollar bill. You rolled your eyes as you moved into the kitchen once more, handing Goose a few of the cat treats you’d bought for him. He accepted them happily as, for the third time, you prepared to write a note for Goose’s mystery owner. You didn’t even bother to sit down, hunching over the counter in a way that your back probably wouldn’t have thanked you for. You scribbled on the paper.

I’m sure Goose won’t mind at all. As for you? Well, I don’t really know you, do I? Just keep the damn money, will you? You know, Goose is going to gain a few pounds if you keep sending him back here.

Sincerely, Goose’s new best friend

After a few pats to the head, you sent Goose off with that. He was back later that day.

Goose’s best friend,

Goose does mind. He wants you to keep it. Please? Besides, if we keep attaching it with scotch tape to a wandering cat, it’s going to get lost. You wouldn’t want that, now, would you? I sure wouldn’t. As for the treats, I’ll make sure to walk him a bit more. Wouldn’t want to lose my new favourite pen pal over a couple extra pounds on the cat.

- Goose’s mom

This time, there were two twenties attached. You chuckled at that. Goose was gobbling down his treat as you wrote.

Goose’s mom,

I think that’d be quite a sight to see, you walking Goose down the street. Guess if I ever see Goose leashed and with some random woman on the street, I’ll know what you look like.

- Goose’s best friend

P.S. Just donate the money. Seriously.

As if it were habit by now, you reattached the bills, added your note, and sent the tabby out the door once again. You headed back to what you’d been doing.

It wasn’t long before the next reply.

Goose’s best friend,

Here, I’ll help you build the image. I’m 23, blonde, and about 5’6”. I’m in the army, so I’d probably still be in uniform after work. Oh, and Goose’s leash is blue, and he has a grey harness for walking.

- Goose’s mom

P.S. I split the $40 between the humane society and the local shelter

You once more had to laugh at the stranger. Of course, you immediately moved to respond. As much as you didn’t want to kick Goose out, you wanted her to get your answer as soon as possible. You grabbed your notepad.

Goose’s mom,

You sound cute.

- Goose’s mom’s best friend

It was a short note this time. You were having fun, though, and you wanted to tease your new friend a little. You attached the note to Goose and let him run off.

Once more, Goose returned with a new reply.

Best friend,

You didn’t give me anything in response. I’m offended.

- Goose’s mom’s best friend’s best friend

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the way she’d signed her newest note. A pang of confidence hit your chest. You scribbled on the note.

Goose’s cute mom,

Let’s go for coffee then. 2B. I’m free when you are.

- Girl with a crush

*

You regretted sending that last note. You’d never gone more than 12 hours without communicating with the mystery note sender. You’d grown quite fond of the little pieces of communication you’d exchanged with her. It was actually the highlight of your day, on most days. Since sending that last one, though, you’d yet to hear back from her. It’d been four days now. You were quite upset about it, and decided the best way to fix that was some loud music. Maybe it’d piss Danvers off as much as she pissed you off.

When there was a loud knock on the door, you immediately assumed that you’d sure pissed someone off. Of course, they’d complain about you and not her. Everyone loved Carol fucking Danvers. You wished you could whirl the door open and shout at whoever was on the other side, but knew yourself better than that. You’d probably open it up and apologize, then turn the volume down and wallow in your misery to the sound of softer music.

That is, if it were anyone but Danvers.

“What? Just now realizing how damn annoying it is to hear loud music blaring from the apartment directly below yours?” You rolled your eyes. “Fuck off, Danvers.”

You went to slam the door, but she stuck her hand in. It must’ve been a little harsher than you meant to, because she shook her fingers out when she retracted them. You didn’t apologize, because you didn’t even feel bad. She deserved it after giving you two years of hell having to live in the apartment below her. You’d not have been surprised if one day she invited an elephant into her room just so she could make as much noise in your apartment as possible.

As you were about to make another snarky remark, though, you noticed something. That cocky glint that was usually shining in her brown eyes was missing. She wasn’t even meeting your eyes. Her gaze was cast to the door beside your head, locked to the bronze numbers that were screwed into it. You raised a single eyebrow, waving your hand in front of her face to get her attention. She blinked as if coming out of a trace, looking back to you.

“What do you want, Danvers?” You snapped when she wouldn’t speak.

She didn’t answer. She only held out a small piece of paper. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, but took it from her. The handwriting was one you’d seen so many times.

Goose’s best friend,

Coffee it is. But I’m paying. I still owe you.

- A girl who also has a crush, Carol Danvers

[antisocial-thing]

💧°Rain pt. 1°💧

°

It started raining. A calm sensation washed over her troubled mind. Rain was the only thing that accompanied her since humanity had fallen. The only thing that hadn't left her. At least not yet.

She'd grown accustomed to the wet feeling on her face and clothes quite quickly. The sound of water droplets eased her nerves. She'd learned to treat it as her friend and welcome it with a smile. Not that she knew how to do that. She'd never had a real friend aside from her father. A faint memory made its way into the back of her mind. A memory of him telling her no one was worthy of her friendship just yet. That she was too special.

Well, that didn't apply to her anymore. She'd become like everyone else. A survivor. A survivor trying to stay alive. Although the reason for that still remains unknown. Why was she still kicking when she had done so many cruel things?

It had been years since the outbreak, however, the sense of hope she knew that was not true clung to her, tearing her apart piece by piece every day. It was destroying her, and she'd unable to do anything with it. She was too much of a coward.

Yet, the rain never left. Of course, it stopped sometimes but it always came back like a boomerang. Maybe she'd gone insane to think about it in that way, to appreciate it so strongly. And mostly - to be so happy about it. Loneliness got to everyone, after all, didn't it? As long as something kept her sane - she wasn't complaining.

°

Sweat was slowly dripping down her forehead, making its way into her eyes, blurring her vision. She had to brush the hair covering her face back to see the way more clearly. She’d been running for God knows how long. There just seemed to be getting more and more of them.

She could see a gas station in the distance. If she managed to lose them, she could hide in there and rest for a minute. Besides, she had a chance to find something essential. She’d been short on water for a while now. The boiling hot weather didn't help at all. She missed the rain.

She caught sight of a tree she could be able to climb easily. That was her chance. Walkers were too slow to notice her sudden disappearance. For them it was like one second, she’d gone into thin air. Bunch of dumbasses. She waited patiently until the last one decided to leave her alone and continue searching for a fresh meal.

A loud sound came unexpectedly from the station that made her squint her eyes and watch the place. It was probably one of the undead.

Oh boy, was she wrong.

“Hey, hey, we won’t hurt you, it’s okay,” coming here turned out to be a mistake. Now she had to deal with this situation. Goddammit.

Two people. A dark-skinned woman and a white guy. Both with weapons, fortunately, not pointed at her. They were blocking the only exit. They had her cornered.

Panic clouded over her mind. She couldn't escape. She swiftly pointed her knife, hidden in a pocket, at them, trying to scare them off what she knew was foolish. She would just anger them further. She stopped thinking logically – the only thing that mattered was survival.

Pull yourself together!

“Wow, there’s no need for that,” the man put away his gun and motioned for his female companion to do the same. She hesitantly complied.

“Are you alone?” he asked, trying to gain her trust. Not a chance in hell he'd succeed. “We need to know.”

“If you’re alone, we have a place, we could help you. It’s not an environment for a kid to be in alone,” Michonne tried to convince her, knowing how it felt like to not trust anyone. She’d been just the same back at the prison.

“It’s none of your business.”

“We have food, houses, and a few meters of a fence. We can take care of you,” he saw it in her eyes. The faint glimpse of hope. It’d been fighting with surviving the cruel world for a long time without rest. She seemed extremely tired. “You can leave anytime you want - we won’t hold you against your will.”

“I won’t give up my weapons,” she quickly demanded, panicking slightly. Subconsciously she reached her gun hidden in her jeans.

“You won’t need to use them. We provide safety for our people,” he smiled softly, trusting his own voice. They could actually help and let her become a part of their community.

°

"Is all this necessary?" the chair in front of the camera felt uncomfortably stiff. Her voice was raspy and also stiff since she didn't have a single ounce of trust for the people standing behind the said camera. Besides she hadn't talked to anyone for months. They were watching her as if she was an animal trapped in a cage. Which was exactly how she felt at that moment.

A man and a woman. Rick and Carol - that was if the names they'd given her were true. She highly doubted it. The woman didn't look dangerous, however, the man seemed like he'd seen things no human ever should. It made him a threat. A threat that must be carefully observed in case anything went sideways during this conversation.

There were four windows and one large door behind her. That was her advantage. If something went wrong, she could just run out the door and go forward to the gate. On her way there she'd seen a few useful branches, she'd be able to use to climb up the wall and escape. Unless something stood in her way, it would be an easy task. They wouldn't get her in time. Nobody would.

"Everybody who wants to join this community goes through the same process", Rick quickly replied like he'd done this a thousand times. Maybe he had. She clearly saw he’d grown tired of it.

"Who says I want to be here?"  

"You can leave anytime you want. We're doing this because you agreed to give our place a chance", she couldn't give in to the false sense of safety Carol tried so hard to feed her. She thought the girl wouldn't notice because she was a woman. She would not fall for these tricks. These days trusting someone was a huge mistake. A mistake she couldn't afford. It might cost her everything.

"Okay, I think we can start. Would you like to tell us something about yourself, or should we ask you the necessary questions?" the silence lingering in the room was enough for an answer for the gray-haired woman.

"How many walkers have you killed?" the harsh question immediately stopped her hazy mind from overthinking again. Before she could even process Rick's words, the answer left her mind uncontrollably.

"I lost count," she didn't like a bit the looks they both gave her. The pity in their eyes. The glance that said no girl her age should experience this. She didn't want it. She didn't want anything from them. And yet, she was here.

"How many people have you killed?" this one was asked with a hint of hesitation in his voice. She wasn't surprised at all. They just wanted to know if she was a murderer. She'd want to know that as a precaution too.

"A few" she was pretty sure that was not the answer they expected. Carol's eyes widened as if she couldn't imagine the small girl killing anybody.

"Why?" Rick's reaction was another story. He saw her as a threat too. At least they had the same opinion about each other now. They both calculated one another with the same cold and scrutinizing gaze.

"Otherwise, I would have been beaten up, mutilated, raped, dismembered, and sure as hell killed," she looked him in the eye as she said those horrible words, the bare truth no one wanted to hear, her raw southern accent making a sudden appearance. "Was my answer satisfying enough, officer?"

She tried not to think about the times she'd met other people. Other bad people. People without humanity. The only thing that made them different from animals was gone and never coming back. The world was now a place of predators and prey, nothing else.

“The last thing – we need to know your name,” Carol cleared her throat in an awkward attempt to end the conversation and clear the atmosphere.

“It’s Blair Cross.”

It didn't matter anymore. The videotape ended here. Something new started inside the walls of Alexandria.

°

[boizandgurlzinthehouse]

Could u maybe do one with damiano where they Get into A fight and He says something very mean but it need with fluff i hope u understood. Thanks :)

𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 1769

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 (𝐨𝐫 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬- 𝐨𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐡𝐞𝐡)

your day wasn't the best when you came home — your head hurt, the day was freezing cold from the moment you peeled the blanket off of yourself, and the hours in the office felt like thrice longer than usual. your boyfriend, damiano couldn't take you out at your office, since his studio was in the opposite direction than your office, but you got in late too because he couldn't find something he needed. you were a little bit nervous, but you just sushed your thoughts and tried to forget the words damiano and you said to each other.

"why can't you just leave the things in their original place? is this that hard to note?"

"be glad that i washed it out."

"be glad that i washed it out…"

damiano mimicked your voice, you hoped that the tone of his voice was only annoyed and derisive because he was tired.

thus, your mom called you in lunch just to call you about that there's no room in the house for you because your other cousins need place until the end of christmas –you couldn't stop the bitter taste in on your tongue, maybe that's why you couldn't hide the disappointment and gloom in your tone.

"but… where gonna i sleep then?"

"sweetheart, you can rent out a hotel room for a few days, don't you?"

"but mom, that's so much money!"

"did i mention that we would be so, so happy if we could meet your boyfriend? what was his name, danny?"

could your mother for only once not change the topic of the talk, if that began to change uncomfortable for her?

"it's damiano, mom."

"damiano, yes. so, is it alright for you?"

i don't have another option, and you know this too too well.

"yes. bye, mom."

you didn't wait for her "goodbye, sweetheart", slamming the red button on your phone.

and now, at the end of this ironically 'happy' and 'succesful' day, you stood in your living room, with your phone in your hand, pressing together your lips as damiano said out those words. you hoped that when you get home, you can take a long shower or run a bath while damiano sits on the edge of the tub, or even bathing with you, talking about this shitty day while you and damiano hate the world together, sharing a bottle of champagne and painting each other's nails –but he too decided to go against you.

"i think you shouldn't worry that much about that."

"what?"

"come on babe, it's just your mom. she's always dramatic, you shouldn't pull it on yourself that hard."

"no, i think you don't understand my problem, she literally said that her daughter don't have a place, a bed in the house she grew up during fuckint christmas!"

"shake it off, y/n. we're gonna figure it out."

"we're gonna figure it out, what does that mean to you, huh? christmas is approaching, day by day, the hotels are sure as hell full, even the airbnb-homes, but yeah, you're right, we have all the time in the world to figure it out!" you acted with your hand, more sarcastic than ever.

"what are saying now, that is my fault that you got a late call?"

you sighed, feeling your soul heavier than ever –the pound in your head spreaded down into your chest, giving the sour feeling of crying.

"no, i'm just telling you that you could be a little bit more helpful and understanding… it's about my family, my mom, mia madre as you used to say! how can't you understand this?"

"i am not understanding enough? how can you say this?"

don't do this, dami, don't manipulate my feelings, at least not you –don't make me more miserable, please.

"i say this because i can only talk with your about this! i trust you only with my problems, my problematic mother and my other shitty things, and now you just say that i should calm down on a problem that means bigger to me than ever?"

"well it's not my problem to have a useless mother!"

it was enough. far enough for you to snap.

"than you know what?",

grabbing your purse and coat,

"fuck you!" with that, you slammed the door and stepped out of the house. you didn't know where to go on the year's coldest day –you only knew that you don't want to stay near anybody right now. maybe renting out a hotel room wasn't a that-bad idea. or going to vic, and block damiano and your mother for the next two days.

trying to call vic, you didn't even noticed that your bump into somebody, pulling together your coat on yourself, you decided to go afoot to the next bus stop, maybe damiano runs after you, but right now you couldn't face him, after everything he said.

well, it's not my problem to have a useless mother. did he think this the whole time, the whole time when you bragged about your family? that that's only your pathetic problem? you couldn't see the screen of your phone from hé blur of your tears –they immediately broke down on your neck and cheek, then freezing in the cold wind, only leaving a chilly, uncomfortable feeling. the snow crashed through the clouds, everything were white and so, so cold, the wind blew in between your coat and sweatshirt –your teeth crashed together as you pleaded to the sky and vic to pick up that phone. your stomach grumbled,

"it's almost half ten, what do you want?"

"vic, oh my god! i'm so glad, can i ask you a little favour?"

"what the fuck, is is it you, y/n? i thought damiano called me this late, he would lose his phone and use yours, the dumbass. what's the problem?"

"can i sleep at you?"

"of cour- why?"

"please, i'll tell you everything, but…" you wailed suddenly, you were surprised too, not to mention vic.

"sweet jesus, was that you? grab a cab and come here, fast! i'm calling damiano."

"no, no please!"

vic didn't respond.

"come here safe, okay?"

"okay. bye, vic."

the line cut off, leaving you there in the winding snow –more five or six streets? you still pondered on damiano's words between tears and shivers, while trying to hug yourself as warmly as you could.

you barely reached the second corner when you heard a humming of a car. can't be a taxi, but then… who's on the streets this late, in this tempestuous weather? excluding me, you thought, could laugh but in a soaked coat, sweater and socks you only wanted to survive until vic's.

turning your aching neck, at first you thought you hallucinate –seeing damiano's black car was nearly a dream, a mirage. does hypothermia kicks in that soon?

as the car approached you, it stopped beside you.

"do you really gonna walk to vic like this? did you call a cab?"

you ignored damiano, walking towards, your bag almost slipped out of your hand.

"let me help you cara mia, i'm sorry. can we talk about this in the car? it's warm in here, too."

stubbornly, with shaking hands, you wiped off the wet locks from your face. hearing a quiet murmur, something like 'okay, that's enough', the door of the car opened, inviting you to sit on the passenger's seat. you stopped the marching, looking at damiano with crossed arms.

"i'm not going anywhere until you get in this car. you can walk to vic, but i'm gonna follow you, and i'm gonna sit in here until you collect enough peace to talk with me."

it warmed your heart a little bit, but the harsh words sung in the back of your head –reluctantly, but slowly you got in the car. damiano didn't hesitate a moment to turn on the child safety lock system as you closed the door. you huffed.

"is it really neccessary?" you asked quietly.

"i don't want you to change your mind when we get back home "he said. "do you need anything? a blanket, a coffee? a tea? i'm texting thomas to boil some water."

"thomas... how? and why?"

"he came for some butter, but you bumped into him, thomo was surprised even that you're that…" –searching for the right words, it was hard and awkward for each of you.

"listen, y/n, i–"

"no, dami, i was just upset and–"

"no, wait! it's my time to apologize. because in the past time, i got carried away. i said things and i said them without thinking about how hurtful they can be. i should be glad, so fucking gratefuo that i have a girlfriend, a lover like you, a lover who nurtures me, who search my lost things even when i can't find them because i'm such a clumsy ass, a lover who shares her deepest secrets and problems with me. a lover who trusts me so much, who accepts my little habits… i know i can't take back the things i said about your mother and your problems, but the least i can do is make you forget about it, and support you with it. can you", damiano said as he covered your cold, tender hands with his big, soft ones. "y/n y/l/n, amore della mia vita, the love of my life, accept my apology about everything i said and did?"

you couldn't stop the blushing, your whole chest warmed up at his words, clinging to his hands.

"yes, i absolutely can. i'm sorry i yelled at you, it was just a shitty day, and my family… well, that's another story."

damiano leaned closer to you, touching your jaw, tucked a cold strand of hair behind your ear, spreading comfort towards your cheeks and eyebrows.

"even with soaked clothes, pale skin and damp hair, you're still the prettiest, angelic thing i've seen in my life, mia dolce bambina."

you didn't need anything to reach up to his lips, yearning to get as much as from his warmth as possible –damiano strokes the back of your head and neck, played with the moist locks.

after the little kissing session, damiano stroked your hand, taking off your coat, giving you his instead.

"let's go home, okay?"

"okay. i love you, damiano."

"i love you more than you could ever think, little angel."

as the two of you reached home, damiano huffed.

"you know, i'm a little bit disappointed in your mother too."

you pulled up your eyebrows, the corner of your lips curling up slowly.

"really? and why?"

"we can't make out in your old bedroom, that could be quite an extra christmas event, don't you think?"

"damiano!!"

𝐚/𝐧: 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬, 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨-𝐦å𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞-𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐢'𝐦 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐬 <𝟑

[cjsinkythoughts]

Flaws

Written for @honeysucklesteve​’s 4k writing challenge! If you haven’t, go check her out because she’s amazing!

Pairing: Mickey Henry x fem!Reader

Summary: You hate his music taste. He hates yours. You have a bad habit of stealing his gigs. He has a bad habit of fucking you until you can’t walk straight. Everyone has flaws. What are you to do about it?

Word Count: 3822

Warnings: Cursing, hate sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, slight edging, there’s a mirror involved, drugs, alcohol, clubbing, smoking, one mention of lung cancer, mentions of Monday’s plot, so slight spoilers; (I hope I’m not forgetting anything. These kinds of warnings are new to me. If I am, feel free to tell me.)

18+ PLEASE!!! MINORS DNI!!!

A/N: I know I haven’t posted in a while, but here you go! I’m so nervous about posting this. Honestly. I feel like I kinda rushed it a little? I dunno if it’s good. Uhm, I will say that Mickey is not soft in this. You know how he’s all cute and flirty in the movie? Yeah. Not here. I have plans to write for him later on where he’s more on character and adorable and all that, but it’s enemies to lovers and he hates reader and reader hates him. So. Yeah. Have fun with that.

This is a few firsts for me; first published smut, first Mickey Henry fic, and first enemies-to-lovers ever! I’m attached to friends-to-lovers (my parents’ fault), so going in the opposite direction is exciting and I hope it works out! (We’ll see what it can become after it’s been written.) 

Also! Yes, I’m adding the link to the inspiration of the remix here. You’ll see what I’m talking about. I imagine more bass, but that’s basically it.

As always, all mistakes are mine and please excuse them as it’s not beta’d! Be kind to yourselves and others! Stay tuned and enjoy!

Part Two - Addictions

My Masterlist

*****

Between the tumultuous, voice losing cheers and the pounding, headache inducing bass, it’s a miracle the occupants of the building can hear anything at all. The large room is doused in bright pinks, purples and blues, glitter getting into every pore and crack, the smell of cigarette smoke and booze lingering in the air. 

Bodies pressed together uncomfortably tight, breath and sweat mixing in a way that can’t be enjoyable, but no one notices because they’re all too high and drunk. There’s a couple swallowing each other in every dark corner of the room. A group of guys looking to get some are laughing rather obnoxiously at the bar, having consumed far too much alcohol to be safe. 

Bouncers are escorting people out left and right; a streaker who decided to get on a table and dance, a couple who took it a bit too far over the bar counter, a group of girls who were no doubt too young to be in such an environment. Boisterous, chaotic, borderline dangerous.

There’s no place he’d rather be on a Friday night.

Up on the center stage, playing around with his tracks, messing with the turntables, pulse connecting to the music, head bobbing with the beat. He’s in control. 

Every party. Every Friday, Saturday, Sunday night. Every weekend.

He’s in control.

It’s what he liked so much about doing what he does. Once he’s booked, he’s booked. It’s his night. He controls the sounds people hear. He controls what they dance to. How they dance. The pace of the night. The feeling of the night. And no one can take it away from him.

No one, that is, except you.

He hears you before he sees you, which is nearly impossible considering how loud the music is, but you somehow manage to take control of the room the moment you walk in it. You always get what you want with a bat of your eyelashes. And if you aren’t given it, you take what you want without regard for other people.

It really really pisses him off.

You’re laughing with a group of your friends, guys and girls’ heads swiveling to stare at you, captivating every heart in the room as per usual. You always show up with the same group, but he doesn’t even know any of their names even though you run in the same circles. It’s not like you end up hanging out with them for long, and you never leave with them. No, no. You always leave with him.

And that pissed him off too. 

He can’t help it. He has absolutely no control over himself when it comes to you. And he hates you for it. He hates that he lets you take over with only a few snarky comments in his defense. He hates that you always get into his head. And he hates that you’re the best fuck he’d ever had and he can never get enough of you.

But most of all…he hates your music.

“Hey, hey! There he is!” You send him that infuriating smile of yours, a drink in your hand. It’s a flaw of yours. One of many, but probably the biggest. Alcohol. Like him and his cigarettes. He watches you with narrowed eyes as you effortlessly move through the crowd, your girls and guys seeming to vanish into the mob with every step you take.

You end up in front of the stage, leaning on it and giving him a smirk as you sip on your beverage choice of the night. It’s always something different. The only common factor is the alcohol you crave, letting it wash over your tongue, burn down your throat and slip into your veins.

“Heya, Mouse!”

“Don’t call me that!” He shouts with a growl over the music, pulling his headphones down around his neck. “What the fuck are you doing here?!”

“I got called this morning! Said there was a gig tonight!”

He shakes his head, gesturing to the set up. “You’re a bit too late there, sunshine! Gig’s booked!”

You shake your head back at him. “I’m taking over from here, Mouse!”

“Says who?!”

“Argyris!”

His jaw clenches, his forehead creasing, a skeptical scoff leaving his lips. “Fuck you! No he didn’t! He said this one’s mine!”

You just give a shrug, no cares in the world, downing the rest of your drink. “You can fuck me later! For now, if you wanna whine about it, Daddy’s over there!”

Another growl leaves his chest as he scowls at you, eyes darting to where you’re pointing. Argyris is by the bar, of course, swaying on the seat. Barking out a laugh, he looks at you with a shake of his head. “He’s so drunk he probably shit himself again! You can’t take his word for it!”

“I can when he called me this morning, sober as he can get!” You shoot back, hopping up to stand besides him. “Besides! Someone’s gotta make sure these people have an actual good time!”

“Don’t touch anything until I get back!” He snaps, pointing warningly at you as he starts to walk towards Argyris.

You smile innocently, even though he knows you’re anything but. “Yes, sir!”

He marches over to his asshole friend and grabs him by the shirt, turning him around. “Mickey! Havin’ a good time?!”

Mickey glares, feeling his blood boil and his ears heat up, not from the proximity of strangers around him. “What the fuck?! You told sunshine over there that she could have my gig?!”

“I thought you’d wanna break! Dance and relax for a little bit! It’s only a two hour slot I gave her!”

“You should’ve fucking asked, Argyris! I don’t want her anywhere near my-” His sentence is cut off by a change in the music and he whips over to the stage where you’re grinning and jumping with the crowd. You catch his eye and throw him a wink, holding one of the headphone cups over your ear. “ Oh for the love of - she’s messing with my stuff!”

“I thought you liked her!”

Spluttering, Mickey gapes at the other man in disbelief. “Like her? I can’t stand her! She’s so fucking annoying!”

“What’s so annoying about her?!”

Mickey snatches the drink Argyris was about to gulp down and slams it on the counter. “She’s a spoiled fucking brat! Everyone lets her do whatever she wants! She steals half my fucking gigs! And her music is shit! Listen to this!”

Argyris looks around the room and shrugs. “Everyone else seems to like it! Sure it’s different than your disco-”

“It’s not disco!”

“But it’s a crowd pleaser! Just relax! Have a drink and go dance!”

“Argyris!” Wanting to scream in frustration, he watches the man stumble off to get another drink down the bar. “Dammit! This is fucking shit.” Grumbling to himself, Mickey storms back over to the stage, easily pulling himself up.

You bite your lip and raise an eyebrow at him. “So?! How’d your date with Argyris go?!”

“I hate you so fucking much! Use your own fucking headphones!” He snatches the pair from your neck, pulling the cord out. “Why do you always have to steal my gigs?!”

You shrug, leaning forwards to brush your lips against his ear. “Yours are so much fun.”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, eyebrows furrowing. This always happens. Every time. The moment he feels in control, you do something and he feels every ounce of himself slipping away. It’s the reason he fucks you. To take back that control he so easily gives to you. To make sure you understand that on the weekends, he’s in charge.

But not tonight. No, no. Not tonight. He refuses to get caught up in that game tonight. You wouldn’t end up in an alley or some bathroom with him. He wouldn’t end up on your couch or in his kitchen with you. He refuses to let it happen. Again.

Instead, he lets out a chuckle and nods. “Yeah. Okay. Whatever sunshine.” He takes a step back, giving you a smirk as your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You have fun playing your shitty music!”

“Have fun moping!” You call back, turning to the table and ignoring him completely as he groans and jumps off the stage.

Good God. You’re infuriating.

But so is he.

You hate Mickey Henry. You just do. You hate that he has zero responsibilities and gets away with it. You hate that he can charm his way out of any situation. You hate how immature he is and how no one ever forces him to grow up. And you hate how easily you let him take charge when he’s with you. After a life full of people making choices for you, you crave control, but with him? The moment he tells you to get on your knees, you fall, no matter where you are or what you’re doing.

But most of all…you hate his music.

You take his gigs to save people from listening to it, but also so he knows he can’t talk every situation into his favor. That Argyris can’t always take care of his job for him. He never checks up on gigs once Argyris tells him he has them. So it’s really his fault for not taking some responsibility.

Watching from the stage as your music flows through you, vibrating your bones and sinking into your skin, you’re not surprised to see him get out a cigarette as he heads to a mutual acquaintance of yours. He has many flaws, but that’s a major one. Like you and your alcohol. Him and his cigarettes. You wouldn’t be surprised if you learn a couple months from now that he has lung cancer.

Mickey is talking low to the guy and you already know what’s going on. That was a flaw you both shared. Drugs. He is much more intense than you though. While you’d be fine with some pot, he almost always hits hard with cocaine. Not that you’re innocent from that type yourself - you’d done it multiple times with the man himself if you ended up at each other’s place. Never in the bedroom. You never made it that far, and you don’t really care to. But after those times bent over the table, being pounded into the couch, hanging against the wall, you’d get high with him before one of you takes off.

You’re not exactly sure what happened earlier. You were a bit shocked when he stepped away. Not that you usually left so early, but he didn’t even stay to bicker some more.

Not that you care. You’re just…curious. Maybe he’s finally growing tired of the game you’ve been playing. You’ve been playing it for a few years now. With that weird little pause last year.

You actually thought he had changed.

Having run into him at a party, you prepared yourself for the arguing that no doubt would end in sex. But it didn’t. It didn’t even start. He was with someone. Like, steady with someone. As in dating someone. Living with her. To the point where his baby mama actually agreed to let him keep his boy in their apartment as long as they were together.

It was a weird six months. You two actually had real conversations. You knew how soft and goofy he could get; you had loads of mutual friends and often went to the same parties so you’d seen that side of him. It was just…odd because it never came out with you. But it did then. And you…liked it. You didn’t see him as often, especially once his kid was cleared to live with them. He stopped going out on weekends, started just attending the small shindigs your friends hosted, worked from home instead of DJing.

But then his girl - what was her name? Claire? Caitie? You can’t remember - left for a job in the States just a few months ago and he was back to square one. His baby mama took back the custody privileges, he went back to partying every weekend, and you fell right back into your petty bickering and rough fucking.

You feel bad. Really, you do. You heard that he’d actually loved that chick. And you know he wanted to see his kid more. You knew about the room at his place. But that almost made you hate him more. That he went right back to his old self. He didn’t even try. He got a taste of being a responsible adult, and then let it go.

Because no matter how hard people try, flaws are flaws. And no one can change that much.

As the night goes on, more booze enters your system, while more cocaine enters his. There’s the occasional glare or immature finger raising between you two. Mickey even sticks his tongue out at you while dancing with some broad, a smirk lifting up the corners of his mouth as yours twist down and your eyes roll.

Your features quickly morph into smug amusement as an idea pops into your head and his eyes narrow. What are you up to? He quickly finds out as you stop the music and bring a microphone to your lips.

“Hey, hey, party people! Everyone’s night going fantastic?!” Cheers are your response. Mickey scowls, not liking where this is going, and starts heading your way. You wink at him. “I’m gonna change it up for just this one song! It’s a dedication song to a good friend of mine! It’s a bit different than the usual stuff, but it’s a bop, I promise! Here’s to the Mouse!”

He immediately freezes as the song starts. “Meeska! Mooska! Mickey Mouse!” He feels his face heat up, his fists balling up at his sides, glaring at you and your shit eating grin as you roll your body to the beat, his feet taking him to the stage.

Effortlessly lifting himself onto it once more, he grabs both your wrists in one of his larger ones to stop the music without you interfering, his rings digging into your skin. “Aww! But, Mouse! We didn’t even get to the roll call!”

“Shut. Up.” He grits out through clenched teeth, putting something else on absentmindedly. He didn’t want Argyris on his ass later for leaving the crowd without music. “God. Stop being a fucking pain in my fucking ass for one fucking minute.”

You roll your eyes, but he’s pulling you away before you can reply. Next thing you know he’s shoving you into the bathroom, growling at the girls that were smoking up the place to get out.

“You think you’re so cute, don’t you, princess?” He hisses in your ear, slamming you against the door once the girls left. He’s so tired of giving in to you, but he can’t help it, crashing his lips against yours messily. Teeth and tongue, the taste of smoke and the fruity drink you had chosen for the night mixing, only making him press closer. Your hands get pinned above your head and he’s pulling your skirt up, bunching it at your waist. It’s rough and careless and fueled by loathing, but when is it not? “Think you’re so funny? Huh?”

“Yeah.” You breath, smirking as he slots a thigh between your legs, squeezing your hips and pressing you down against him, flexing the muscle and making you squirm.

His teeth are biting at your bottom lip and tugging, his hands dragging your clothed core along his thigh. “Let’s see how funny you think you are when I’m fucking you so hard you forget how to breathe.”

Your breath hitches and your hands previously above your head clutch onto his shirt at the friction against your clit. It’s not enough and he knows, but you don’t tell him. “All this over a silly song?” You jest.

He sneers back at you, ignoring your tease. “Did you get jealous, sunshine? Is that what happened? Is that why you decided to be a little shit?”

“Jealous?” You scoff as he attacks your neck, your hands quickly undoing his belt before he shoves his pants down, his briefs following along with your panties. “Jealous of you, maybe. That girl was hot. Way outta your lea - oh shit.”

You always forget how deep he reaches inside you, how much the stretch is. He’s not soft about it, entering you in one swift thrust, your hips connecting. His hands are dimpling your bare thighs, hefting you up so your legs wrap around his waist, rings on his fingers no doubt making imprints. The door against your back starts rattling with every movement, but the music outside was too loud for anyone to hear it.

“Not so mouthy now, are we?” He snaps in time with his hips. He can feel you tightening around him, your fingers dragging down his chest, trying desperately to pull his shirt off.

“C’mon, Mouse. That's all you got?” You pant out, a little whine leaving your lips when he leaves you suddenly, dropping you to your feet. “Mickey! What-”

He cuts you off by pushing you against the counter, a shout leaving your lip when he takes you from behind, making you surge forwards, your head almost hitting the mirror, pelvis hitting your ass with every piston of his hips. His hand is tangled in your hair and he tugs, making your head snap up. “Look at you. So fucked out. I did that. I’m the best fuck you’ve ever had and we both know it.” He isn’t wrong. Your makeup’s a mess, your hair is wrapped around his fingers.

“You’re the one who keeps fucking me.” You argue back, your spine arching as he hits that perfect spot inside you. Over and over and over.

He growls, leaning forwards to fold over you, his lips by your ear. “And who keep being a fucking brat? Huh? Who keeps coming to my gigs, fucking up my weekend? Practically begging me to fuck you.”

You scowl at him in the mirror. “I don’t beg.”

The chuckle that leaves his lips makes you shiver and you whimper when he tugs your hair harder, the sting of your scalp mixing with the pleasure his cock was giving you.

“You will. You may get everything you want from everyone else, princess, but I’m in charge here. Don’t. You. Forget.” His words are punctuated with a hard thrust, making you lurch forwards, your thighs pressing harshly against the counter.

“Oh God…Mickey,” that familiar tightness in your stomach appears, your eye clenching shut as your toes curl. “I’m so close…”

“Open your goddamn eyes. Look who’s doing this to you. Who fucking owns this pussy? Huh?”

Your eyes snap open and meet his again, his breaths fanning across your face, rapidly becoming less steady. “You.”

“That’s right. You wanna cum, sunshine?” You nod vigorously. He takes your lobe between his teeth and tugs as he stills his hips, keeping himself inside you. “Then beg.”

And, just like the many times before, you do. You do because you don’t actually care about begging. You care about him ruining you. That’s what you want. And you always get what you want. Fuck your dignity. 

He starts up slowly again as you plead, stopping a couple more times when you feel yourself getting close. “Mickey! Please, for the love of God!” He’s never edged you this much. Not this intensely. And not in the bathroom at a club. Usually it’s just a quickie before you take him home or vice versa.

But you pissed him off tonight. More so than usual. It was a good night and then you came along. Took his job. Played that dumb song. So he needs to remind you. Put you in your place. “You may be spoiled by everyone else, princess, but I’m the only one who can give you what you really want.”

“God, you’re so annoying.” You grind out through your clenched teeth.

He just smirks. “That wasn’t a denial. Let go, Y/N. Make a mess of my cock. Watch yourself fall apart for me.”

You do as he says, watching your jaw go slack in a silent scream, your body tensing, your legs shaking, as he finally lets you have what you want. Body going slack against the counter, he keeps rutting into you until he groans, a string of profanities leaving his lips as he spills inside you.

The both of you stay there, with him folded on top of you, his forehead resting against the nape of your neck, his grip on your hair loosening.

“That was fun. A little different.” You hum as he gets up. He’s glaring at you as you straighten and fix yourself. “Good orgasm though, so thanks for that. But I gotta get back to work now.”

“You’re such a pain in my ass.” He mutters, tucking himself away and pulling his pants up.

“Kinky. Maybe next time.” You wink at him through the mirror and his jaw ticks. He’s so fucking tired of it. Of you. How you let him have that one bit of control and then your right back to controlling the room once you get what you want. There’s so many nights where he wonders if he should just stop giving it to you. But then he’s inside you and he can’t help himself.

He watches you touch yourself up, although you still look thoroughly fucked, but you don’t seem to mind. This is new. You going back to the gig you stole after sex. He wonders if that was the last time for tonight, or if you’d be leaving together later too.

“I fucking hate you.” He spits out as you open the door, wanting to get the last word in.

You just smirk the same way he did to you earlier. “Yeah…but you love fucking me. Later, Mouse.”

Just like always, you’re the last comment as you walk out nonchalantly, even though he could see the slight wobble in your steps, the door shutting behind you, leaving him alone.

You hate Mickey Henry. You loathe him. You wish you never met him. But you can’t get enough. No matter how many times you convince yourself you have him where you want him, you know you don’t. You’d let him do anything to you. But you can’t stop. Like him and his cigarettes. He’s your flaw. And no matter how bad he is for you, you’re addicted.

Mickey Henry hates you. He loathes you. He wishes he never met you. But he can’t get enough. No matter how many times he convinces himself he’s in control, he knows he’s not. He always gives you what you want at the end of the day. But he can’t stop. Like you and your alcohol. You’re his flaw. And no matter how bad it is for him, he’s addicted.

*****

*****

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Personal Taglist:

@happygoreading​ @bibliophilewednesday​ @breadqueen95​ @marvelettesassemble​ @w-wolfhxrd​ @the-larry-romance​ @abitofeverythinggg​

[stylistiquements]

Introduction : three older brothers

𐐪𐑂 Pairing : Sapnap x fem!reader {Playlist} 𐐪𐑂 Summary : When Sapnap learns the news, some questions are resurfacing.

𐐪𐑂 Word count : 1.1k

𐐪𐑂 Warning : none (for once lol)

Masterlist | Next

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

I’m coming to see you in Florida, your voice plays again and again like it’s some kind of song stuck in the back of Sapnap’s mind.

In the lull of the afternoon, a nest of merriment peaks in the crest of his chest and threatens to overflow, but honestly it’s more a promise than anything; bare feet stomping euphorically against the wooden floor without a hint of withhold and the humid air twirls around his fists as he punches a not so silent victory.

Fifteen years of friendship, two years of longing and four months until the world both crumbles and harmonizes again.

129 days until my best friend comes home, Sapnap processes ecstatic, acidic. Peonies hatch in the depth of his heart, where light shouldn’t reach but still does somehow.

The heel of his palm presses against the phone a little tighter, where your voice ringed high and low just minutes ago. He forgot to ask how long you were planning on staying with him and Dream. Somehow, he forgot how to think about anything else but the fact that, soon, late night texts and virtual calls are to be bad dream-ish flashes. But it’s so easy to put everything behind, so easy to dismiss when you’re about to appear in front of him, soft as a smile and real.

When the celebration falls breathless, Sapnap isn’t sure what to do with himself, throwing his body over the bed that bounces up and down and the movement is so swift he’s left tasting all fuzzy. He’s transported overseas, heart streaming over the sheets. They wrinkle and frame his body like a restless picture.

This could just be a dream, he reasons; he waited so long for you to say those words that, for all he knows, he might have been asleep all along. The threads of lights that escape the window fondle his hair and wash up two soft cheeks and, in an attempt to seal the wish, he closes his eyes and lets the sun flood the back of his eyelids.

What is printed there, between orange light and imaginary shapes, is an old memory that slowly unfolds; a brushed wound on your knee during one of those skateboarding afternoons.

Sapnap huffs. God, you used to love skateboarding so much it drove him crazy.

But it was, after all, his duty to carry you home. Like a princess, you said, eyes sparkling and smile so promising. He whined, complained the whole time about you being heavy, but it didn’t matter; what colored his skin was how important you gave him the opportunity to be. And the truth, although diluted, remains indelible to the passing time.

It’s funny, he recognizes, that the memory decided to collide with this very moment. Just as if a boiling impatience molded itself into a wave of memories. And when the nostalgia fades away, he imagines what it would be like if you were right in front of him; the shape of your eyes and the curve of your smile. Something old, something new, something blue, he thinks ironically, though it probably only makes sense to him.

“What the hell, Godzilla?” The door cracks open and welcomes a swirling breeze. Dream fakes the annoyance, but his tone betrays; boyish amusement. His silhouette intertwines with rays of lights and though his shadow elongates enough to hide Sapnap from the merciless sun of Florida, one glance at the man forces him to squint in order to not be completely blinded. Sapnap tunes into reality once again, heels sinking into the mattress.

“129 days,” he mumbles, willing to answer a question that hasn’t been freed yet, knowing it’s not too much of an answer yet everything he’s capable of for the moment given, still stuck into the ethereal.

“Cryptic,” Dream sighs. His scoff stops when he lies on the bed next to his friend, a small rattle falling out of his lips.

In the interlude, met by two green eyes and the chirping of the birds outside, he gives in, “I haven’t seen y/n in two years and now she’s coming back in 129 days.”

Dream’s head rises effortlessly, unimpressed, little birdie tells Sapnap he probably knew much before he did.

“Then why are you not as happy as you should be?”

“I’m not sure,” Sapnap shrugs. “I mean-- I am, but it’s weird. It’s like super long and super short at the same time.”

Dream’s hovering smile twitches slightly devious, slightly smirk-ish. “Maybe you’ll finally be able to tell her how you feel.”

Betrayal, he noticed the way his lashes flutter when your name is mentioned in a conversation, the way he secretly flusters every once in a while when the boundaries between what is and what could be are drawn too blurry. Sapnap’s eyebrows arch in a hypocritical confusion.

He gulps with a little bit of coyness, “It’s just not the right timing.”

“Things don’t always need to be complicated, you know.”

His jaw clenches in a sour agreement, but to be so desperately in love with his best friend, there is only room for difficulty.

It’s like magnets with the same polarity. Sometimes, too caught up by the pursuit of your own selves, sometimes kept apart by the fear of losing the most precious thing life has given the two of you. And if one second he thinks he could catch a glimpse of hope, too tangled with the force field to think, the next he never even dares to think about it.

“I’ve heard how you interact with each other, being all flirtie flirtie and stuff,” Dream notes high and daringly. The smirk blooms, Sapnap flinches.

“Right, as if. She also has three older brothers, you know? Kinda don’t want my ass to get beaten.”

“You’re being a giant baby.”

“You’re a giant baby,” Sapnap repeats to mock. “Shut up.”

And soon the air is filled with hands aiming to attack each other, weltering between a mound of sheets and choked out laughter. The introspection blows in the wind for a second before reappearing as easy.

Once Dream’s power has made its own point, Sapnap surrenders, “Fine. Oh my god, you’re so annoying. And if I tell her that I’m in love with her and she rejects me, what then?”

Heaving chests and remains of chuckle, the sun fades out for a moment to give them a rest.

“And if you tell her that you’re in love with her and she says ‘me too’, what then?”

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・　　 .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・

Taglist : @open-minded-chip-101 ; @itsoakaa

A/N : I'm so happy to finally post something again I feel like it's been years lol!! Hope you guys appreciated the intro. it's a bit shorter but once again its just the intro and if you're used to the length of the sorcerer's chapters then this is gonna defo be a lot shorter. Anyway lmk what you think!! I think I'm going to publish one part every sunday but can't really promise anything. Until next time (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)

[hrina]

Be Sweet, Pt. I

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M (minors dni!) WORD COUNT: 6k

hey everyone! here's part one of my new enemies-to-lovers series :) this fic will be five parts in total, but i'm only posting the first part on tumblr. you'll be able to read the rest of it on patreon if you wanna sign up!

as always, reblogs and feedback are very much appreciated. i love hearing your thoughts! enjoy.

~*~

August 27th, 2021

“Who’s opening tomorrow?”

Ella scrubs a wet rag across the table closest to the door. You cast a furtive glance up at her, flipping absentmindedly through the jumble of papers on the counter in front of you. Nick’s messy scrawl catches your eye, and you pause, reading the haphazard comment written at the bottom of the page.

Customer requested a very specific shade of pink trim. See back for details.

You flip the order, scoffing at the Pantone strip taped to the other side. The square labelled Quartz Pink has been singled out, encircled in bright red. Jesus fucking Christ.

“Alice and Olly, I think,” you say, shoving the form to the bottom of the pile.

“That’s good,” Ella grunts, returning the napkin holder and the sugar dispenser back to their spots on the table. “And you’ll swing by sometime during the afternoon?”

“Yeah,” you say, drumming your fingers over the papers. “I’m gonna help Olly in the back. You know how much he hates dealing with fondant.”

“How could I forget?” Ella rolls her eyes, smiling to herself. You grimace when she tosses the damp cloth in your direction. It lands on the counter with a loud splat! You nudge it away with your elbow, shaking your head.

“Gross.”

“You’re gross,” Ella says.

“I’m lovely,” you reply. She grins.

“Where’s Alex taking you tonight?” you ask, changing the subject. Her eyes light up instantly, and she clasps her hands together against her chest.

“It’s a surprise,” she says, giggling girlishly.

You groan. “I hate surprises.”

“It’s a good thing he’s not your boyfriend, then, isn’t it?” she retorts. You snicker, and she continues: “He told me we should stop off at home to change, though, so I’m guessing that wherever it is, there’s a dress code.”

“Ooh, fancy.”

“Right?” She twists her wrist, peeking at her watch. “He should have been here by now. It’s already a quarter past seven.”

“The hospital is just down the street,” you remind her, organising the mountain of orders into a neat stack. “Give him another five minutes.”

She nods. You spin on your heel and push through the door leading to the backroom of the bakery. The large space is split into two sections: on your right, there’s a wall of ovens, and a cluster of metal racks filled with pale, unprocessed dough. On your left, tables and counters lined with all sorts of decorating necessities—piping bags, spatulas, scrapers, turntables. You make your way toward the small cabinet perched against the nearest wall and pull out the top drawer, sliding the orders inside. Olly should have no trouble locating them tomorrow morning.

When you return to the front of the shop, Ella is locked in a passionate embrace with a gangly, dark-haired man. You recognise him immediately.

“Doctor Dao,” you call out, resting your elbows on the counter. “Did you at least wash your hands before putting them all over my best friend?”

Alex and Ella break apart swiftly, but he keeps one arm wrapped around her waist. “Hey, cookie,” he says, flashing you an apologetic grin. “Didn’t see you there.”

You arch one brow, lips curling into an amused smirk. “I’ll say.”

Only then do you catch sight of the other man lingering by the door, and your smile quickly morphs into an irritated frown. Harry is watching you with twinkling eyes, like he knows the effect his presence has on you. How could he not? You don’t try to hide your disdain, especially when it comes to him.

“Harry,” you say curtly, lifting your chin in stubborn acknowledgement.

He brings two fingers to his temple—a mock-salute. “Sweetheart.”

You clench your jaw. God, he makes your blood boil. Rather than responding, you turn back to Alex, who is now smoothing his palms over Ella’s silky brown hair. “You’re late,” you tell him. “You were supposed to be here when we closed.”

“Sorry, cookie,” Alex says, and he sounds like he means it. “My last surgery of the day had a few…complications.”

You purse your lips as the annoyance melts away. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” He nods, blowing out a heavy breath. He looks tired. “We figured it out.”

“That’s good.”

Alex directs his attention back to Ella, leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to the tip of her nose. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” she replies. “Just let me grab my bag.”

“Cool,” he says. “You don’t mind if we drop Harry off at his place, right? His car is fucked, apparently.”

Ella’s grey eyes widen. She peers over her boyfriend’s shoulder at Harry. “What happened?”

Harry waves away her concerns, chuckling quietly. He tugs on the collar of his blue scrubs, and you can’t stop your gaze from trailing across the plethora of tattoos inked into his arm. Your nose wrinkles at the sight. He looks ridiculous. What kind of doctor would agree to don such outrageous body art?

“He’s being dramatic,” Harry says, shooting Alex a pointed glare. “My car’s at the shop right now, but I’ll have it back by tomorrow evening at the latest.”

“Oh.” Ella relaxes. “Okay, that’s great. Babe—” She turns to Alex. “—when are our reservations?”

“Eight-thirty,” Alex says. “Plenty of time.”

“Awesome,” she chirps. She scurries around the counter and playfully bumps her hip against yours. “My purse is in the back. Give me one second.”

And then she’s gone.

You stare at Alex, fighting a clever smile. “Tonight’s the night, huh?” you murmur, quiet enough so that there’s no chance of Ella overhearing.

He beams, shouldering his knapsack and dragging his sweaty palms down the front of his shirt. His scrubs are a light purple, you note. The shade compliments his dark skin.

“Yeah,” he replies, gnawing anxiously on his bottom lip. “She’ll say yes, right?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. “Of course she will.”

Just then, Ella bursts through the door, her leather purse swinging wildly against her waist. “Alright!” She claps once, striding over to you and planting a wet, sloppy kiss onto your cheek. “I’m off.”

“Bye,” you say, wiping her saliva from your face with the back of your hand. “Have fun.”

Alex waves at you as she tugs him out of the bakery. “See you later, cookie.”

You wink. “See you.”

Harry is the last one to leave. He glances at you momentarily, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smug smile. The look makes you bristle. He’s absolutely infuriating.

“Got any leftover almond croissants?” he asks. Silent laughter taints every word.

You point to the exit. “Get out.”

He bows his chin in farewell, approaching the door. “Sweetheart.”

“Asshole,” you reply flatly. Now that your friends are out of earshot, you’re under no obligation to tolerate him. Sometimes, you find yourself actually craving his company, just so you can drop the pretence and really give him a piece of your mind. You’re a mature adult, and you won’t ruin a social gathering because of one presumptuous dickhead, but everyone has their limits. You don’t owe him shit.

Harry chuckles to himself, and you clench your fists at your sides. He shoots you one last maddening smirk before disappearing out the door. You rush forward, latching it swiftly and ensuring that the sign against the glass reads ‘CLOSED’. Once you’ve successfully locked up, you march into the back of the shop, plucking your own purse off one of the metal counters and tugging it over your shoulder. You shut the light and return to the front, scanning the clean tables, the empty display cases, the shades drawn over the windows. Shards of the sunset stream through the cracks in the blinds, casting orange stripes along the floor.

All clear, a voice in your head whispers, and you sigh.

Finally—you can go home.

August 28th, 2021

Quick, frantic knocking rouses you from your sleep. Blearily, you sit up on the mattress, knuckling at your puffy eyes. The hardwood floor is cold against the soles of your feet when you climb out of bed. You shiver.

The insistent clamour continues as you pad down the hallway. You tug at the hem of your worn, baggy t-shirt, concealing your midriff. Ella wastes no time after you open the front door, surging past the threshold and vaulting herself into your arms.

“He proposed!” she squeals as the two of you stagger backward. You freeze, remembering Alex’s plans from the day before. His apprehension, too—the way he wiped his clammy palms against his scrubs and anxiously dug his teeth into his bottom lip. Shock ebbs and flows through your veins for a fraction of a second, but then you’re sweeping Ella into a tight hug, rocking your bodies from side to side.

“Oh my God,” you say. Excitement festers beneath the murky exhaustion clouding your mind. “He did it.”

Ella steps back, brows knitting together in bewilderment. “You knew?” When you nod, she scoffs, aiming a half-hearted swat at your bicep. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“Why the fuck would I tell you?” you retort, rolling your eyes at the demand. “Come on. Let’s see it.”

A bright grin stretches across her lips, and she holds up her left hand, wiggling her fingers keenly. You spy the ring resting on the fourth digit: a simple platinum band topped with a large, clear diamond. Grey morning light bounces off the gemstone, and it winks at you as if it knows something that you don’t.

“Gorgeous,” you breathe, gripping Ella’s wrist to bring her hand closer. You scrutinize the ring carefully, smiling to yourself. “He’s got good taste.”

“Doesn’t he?” she gushes, beaming like an idiot. You beckon her into the kitchen, and she collapses onto one of the tall stools positioned in front of the marble island. A quick glance at the digital clock on the stove reveals that it’s only eight in the morning. You groan, rubbing gentle circles against your temples.

“I was hoping I’d get to sleep in today,” you say, lips curling into a wry smirk.

Ella shoots you a sheepish, apologetic smile, sliding her purse off her shoulder and placing it on the counter. “I’m sorry, cookie. I couldn’t wait.”

“I’m just kidding,” you tell her, floating around the room to prepare a pot of coffee. “So…how did he do it?”

She launches into a frenzied retelling of the night before. Alex brought her to the same restaurant they’d visited four years ago on their first date. They ordered their food and made conversation. Things proceeded as usual until the end of the meal, at which point Alex set his napkin down on the table and excused himself to the restroom. Two minutes later, the waiter arrived with the bill. Ella accepted it graciously, scanning the thin paper and pausing at the question scrawled at the very bottom of the slip. When she snapped her head up, searching for her boyfriend in the crowded dining area, she found him kneeling a few feet away from her chair, a small velvet box nestled securely in his steady hands.

“I started crying immediately,” she tells you, groaning at the memory. “I couldn’t keep it together. It was so embarrassing.”

You toss your head back and laugh. Despite the crimson blush staining her cheeks, she joins in. The coffeemaker beeps, signalling that the pot is ready. You fetch two mugs from the cupboard and fill them with dark liquid. Ella accepts her drink eagerly, blowing cool air across its surface. You grimace as she takes a tentative sip—you’ve never understood her penchant for unsweetened black coffee. Sugar and cream are a must.

“I’m so happy for you, El,” you tell her, stirring a small spoon around your mug. “You’re going to be the most beautiful bride.”

Her eyes grow damp. You snicker quietly, reaching across the island and swiping your thumb beneath her bottom lashes. She catches your hand and kisses your knuckles softly, clearing her throat.

“Will you—?” She releases a shuddering breath. “Will you be my maid of honour?”

You stiffen at her request. Her gaze rakes over your face, like she’s searching for any clue as to how you might respond. At last, your shoulders sag in relief, and an ecstatic smile splits across your cheeks.

“Of course,” you say, voice thick. Tears gather in your own eyes, but you blink them back furiously. “I would love nothing more.”

She sets her coffee down and skirts around the counter, yanking you into another bone-crushing hug. You grin as she presses a handful of sloppy kisses to the side of your head. Her elbow knocks against your abandoned mug, and a few drops of coffee spill down the side of the cup. You laugh at her enthusiasm, pulling back and sweeping your hands over her silky hair.

“It’s probably way too soon, but have you guys started discussing anything?” you ask, arching one eyebrow.

Ella flushes pink, averting her gaze. “Um…when we got home, there wasn’t really much of a discussion going on.”

You cackle, poking at her ribs. “Oh, he gave it to you good, didn’t he? It’s a miracle that you’re not limping right now.”

“Be quiet,” she yelps, stamping her eyes shut.

You lift your hands and shoot her a teasing smirk. “I’m not judging, okay? If anything, I’m living vicariously through your various sexual conquests. It’s been months since I last got any action.”

“Maybe that should change,” Ella says, folding her arms over her chest. “You and Harry could probably fuck out your frustrations. His dick is huge, apparently.”

You balk. “Ella!”

She shrugs, grey eyes widening comically. “What? Alex told me!”

You snort, but say nothing. She watches you cautiously, examining your features for any signs of acquiescence. Any indication that you might actually be considering her lewd suggestion. You almost gag.

“Why do you hate him so much, anyway?” Ella asks, flicking an invisible speck of lint off her shoulder. “You’re not still hung up on that fiasco with the almond croissant, are you?”

“I’m not doing this with you again,” you say, and she sighs.

“Okay, I’m sorry. But can you at least try to be civil while we plan the wedding? For my sake.”

After mulling over her words, you slouch in defeat. “Fine. But only for you,” you say, throwing a stern finger in her face.

She beams. “Thank you.” Something dirty flashes behind her pale eyes. “And if you do end up sleeping with him, I want all the details.”

You shove her gently and scoff. She laughs.

“Honestly,” you start, shaking your head, “it doesn’t matter how huge his dick is. I’d rather walk across hot coals than let somebody like him climb into my bed.”

“What makes you think it wouldn’t be the other way around?” Ella snickers. You glare at her, but she just steps back, raising her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, fine. Have it your way. But I’m expecting you to find someone in time for the big day. Don’t let your plus-one go to waste.”

You roll your eyes, thoroughly unconvinced. “Noted.”

September 2nd, 2021

“Olly!” you call, sticking your head into the backroom. “Ella and I are going on our lunch break, but Leyla will be here in, like, twenty minutes. You going to be okay by yourself until then?”

Olly doesn’t even bother looking over his shoulder, too busy piping little flowers along the sides of the rectangular cake laid out in front of him. He lifts one hand, waving away your concerns before running his palm over his short blue hair. He buzzed and dyed it just last week after claiming that he couldn’t stand how the long brown curls stuck to the nape of his neck. It took a few days to get used to the change, but now that the initial shock has faded, you have to admit that he looks great.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Olly says, putting the finishing touches on the cake. He sets his piping bag down and turns toward you, wiping his palms against his red apron. His left ear bears a swirl of shiny silver piercings. “I’ll be out in a second.”

“Thanks,” you say, flashing him a small smile. He returns it, and then you’re spinning on your heel and letting the door swing shut behind you.

You find Ella waiting outside the bakery. She urges you along, and you squawk at her impatience.

“What’s the rush?” you ask, falling into step with her as you both amble down the sidewalk. “We have forty-five minutes.”

“I don’t want Alex’s sandwich to get cold,” she explains, holding up the small paper bag clutched in her right hand. You snort.

The two of you make it to Ridgefield Hospital in record time, mostly because Ella grips your arm and gives it a forceful tug whenever you start lagging behind. You walk through the automatic doors, ignoring the row of ambulances parked outside. The secretaries sitting at the front desk shoot you a few distracted smiles—they’ve all grown accustomed to your frequent visits by now.

Ella babbles endlessly as you enter the elevator, pressing the button for the fifth floor and waiting as the metal doors slide shut.

“I want to ask Alice and Leyla to be part of the bridal party, but I’m scared the guys will feel bad if Alex doesn’t choose them as his groomsmen. Like, I think they’d understand, considering I work with the girls and we’re all pretty close, but I don’t know.” She nudges you with her elbow. “What do you think?”

“I think you should do whatever the fuck you want,” you tell her, shrugging. “It’s your wedding. And I don’t think Olly, Marcus, or Nick will mind if they’re not part of the bridal party. Olly doesn’t care about that stuff, and Marcus and Nick already have their hands full with their jobs at the bakery. Plus, they know Alex has his own friends—not just the ones he’s met through you.”

Ella nibbles on her bottom lip, her head bobbing in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right.”

You lay a placid hand on her shoulder. “You’re already overthinking this. You’ve only been engaged for a week. Enjoy it.”

She shoots you a grateful smile just as the elevator dings and the doors glide open, and the two of you step out onto the hospital’s paediatric floor. It’s a stark contrast to the other sections of the building. Instead of barren white walls, these ones are painted with all sorts of pretty, colourful decorations—flowers, rainbows, sunsets, animals. A massive sign in front of you denotes the different divisions on the floor and where to find them: the ICU, the operating rooms, the palliative unit, the psychiatry wing, and the oncology department. You and Ella turn right, making the familiar trek to Alex’s office.

“He should be on his lunch break, too,” she says. “Unless they paged him for another emergency surgery.”

You hum in response.

Sure enough, you find Alex at his desk, twirling a blue pen between his fingers as he pores over the stack of papers in front of him. Ella knocks gently against the open door, and his face lights up when he spies her standing in the threshold. He moves quickly, crossing the room in five long strides, and plants a searing kiss onto her lips. You look away, rocking awkwardly on the balls of your feet.

“Hey,” Alex murmurs after he and Ella break apart. That’s when he notices you behind her. “Hey, cookie.”

“Hey,” you reply. You toss your thumb over your shoulder. “I’m just going to—you know, the usual.”

He nods.

The last thing you see before you turn around is Ella holding up the brown paper bag, and Alex’s face splitting into a bright, easy smile.

You meander through the halls, trailing your fingers over the rich artwork covering the walls. The end of the corridor cleaves in two; you turn left and enter a large atrium. The ceiling is high and peppered with skylights. A small cafeteria sits off to the side, clusters of families chatting and laughing together as they eat. Children sprint around the space, their arms outstretched. Some of them are dressed in normal clothes—others don pale hospital gowns, their skinny legs bared for all to see. You wrench your attention away from them, fixing it instead on the far wall.

Slowly, you cross the room, surveying the vibrant handprints stamped against the plaster. There has to be hundreds of them, you think. They vary in size—some are so tiny you could cry. Colour becomes scarcer the higher you go—the youngest children are too short to reach those levels, obviously—but still. The sight takes your breath away. You visit this mural every time you find yourself at the hospital, and every time, you unearth a new detail that you hadn’t noticed before.

You walk along the length of the wall, dragging your fingertips across the dry, smooth paint. Purples and pinks and oranges and blues. Reds, greens, yellows, browns. Each handprint is a person—a pair of little feet that scuffled over this very floor, a blank story that had yet to unfold. Briefly, you wonder how many survived whatever illnesses plagued them, and how many succumbed to their conditions. The thought makes your throat grow tight with emotion, so you quickly shove it aside.

Ten minutes pass before you’re leaving the mural behind and heading back the way you came. You’ve just rounded the corner when a strong, solid body barrels into you. You grunt at the impact, smacking one palm against the wall to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you start, lifting your head to meet the stranger’s gaze. “I wasn’t paying—oh.”

Harry smirks, his green eyes glittering with mirth once he recognises you. You purse your lips, wishing the ground would just open up and swallow you whole.

“Harry,” you say, nodding stiffly.

He folds his arms over his chest. “Sweetheart.”

His brown hair is tousled, and his biceps strain against the white button-up adorning his torso. Black slacks cover his legs, and he’s wearing a pair of pristine leather shoes, ones that look like they might’ve cost a month’s worth of rent. Your teeth grate together noisily. The sound echoes in your ears.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asks, as though the two of you are old friends. You want to scoff—you’d rather stick your hand in an oven than make idle conversation with him.

“Visiting Alex,” you say tightly, stepping back. “Ella brought him lunch.”

At that, Harry straightens. “Ella’s here?”

“Yes.”

“I wish I’d run into her,” he murmurs, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger.

You throw him a scowl. “Asshole.”

Harry cocks one eyebrow, tilting his chin haughtily. “Forgive me if I prefer her company to yours. At least she doesn’t treat me like I’m some insufferable bastard.”

“Maybe if you stopped being such an insufferable bastard, I wouldn’t treat you like one,” you shoot back, planting your hands on your hips. You tense as Harry’s gaze rakes down your body—head to toe, like he’s sizing up an opponent. His nose wrinkles in disdain, and you fight the urge to deliver a sharp, backhanded slap across that pretty, perfect face.

Harry opens his mouth, and you brace yourself for whatever retort he has prepared. What comes out is nothing overtly nasty, but it is enough to make you want to shrink away and curl into yourself until you wink out of existence.

“You smell like yeast,” he says, and tosses in a derisive sniff just for the added effect.

You recoil as the words slam into you, blinking in shock.

Asshole. Rude, arrogant, condescending asshole.

“I own a bakery,” you grit out. Harry shrugs, but says nothing else. Your lips flap wordlessly as he pushes past you, his shoulder bumping against yours. You watch him go, massaging the tender spot on your arm with shaky fingers. Your eyes fall to his ass for only a moment before skittering away, and a hollow laugh catches in your throat.

What a fucking prick.

September 17th, 2021

“Attention, everyone!” Ella stands at the head of the table, clinking her fork delicately against her glass. “I wanted to make a little toast.”

The conversation around you tapers off into silence. You sit back in your chair, focussing on your best friend. She looks splendid in her pretty blue dress, her dark hair twisted into an elaborate knot at the nape of her neck. She peers around the room, chewing nervously on the inside of her cheek. When her gaze locks with yours, you grant her a tiny, encouraging nod.

She beams, her next words imbued with renewed enthusiasm. “I wanted to thank all of you for coming here tonight to celebrate our engagement with us.” She holds out her hand, and Alex presses a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “We’re so grateful to be sharing this milestone with such a wonderful group of people.”

You inspect the other guests gathered around the table. To your right sit Alice and Leyla, the first employees you hired when you were trying to get your business up off the ground. It’s odd seeing them like this—poised and elegant, looking nothing at all like they do during the long, arduous shifts at the bakery. Alice’s blond hair has been fashioned into an intricate braid, and Leyla’s brown eyes are lined with dark kohl and smoky eyeshadow. They clean up nice, you must admit.

Next to Leyla: Ella’s older sister, Hillary. They have the same piercing grey eyes, though Hillary’s hair is a shade lighter. You didn’t miss the sour expression that trundled across her face when you waltzed into Alex and Ella’s condo. She’s jealous, you think. Jealous that Ella chose you as her maid of honour instead of her. You’ve been ignoring her resentful glares for the better half of the night, letting her bitterness pass over you like a cloud. Whatever her problem is, it’s clear that the issue lies between her and her sister. You’re not getting in the middle of that.

It doesn’t help that she’s been fawning over Harry all evening. Upon witnessing her coquettish behaviour, you glanced at Ella, brows raised, but your best friend just rolled her eyes and yielded a helpless shrug of her shoulders. At least the attraction didn’t appear to be one-sided—that would have been humiliating, you think—because Harry gave as good as he got, chuckling sincerely and flirting right back. You had to suppress the urge to retch, and sent out a quiet prayer of gratitude when Ella and Alex sat them as far away from each other as possible at the beginning of the meal.

On the opposite side of the table: Alex’s groomsmen—Milo, Sasha, and Connor. You’ve been in their company a few times, mainly on birthdays and other special occasions. According to Alex, they all met when Milo accidentally vomited during their very first anatomy lesson at medical school. Milo insists that the putrid smell of the cadavers was simply too awful to bear, but everyone else claims that he just couldn’t stand the idea of being so close to a dead body. No matter the truth, the story always makes you giggle. The four of them have been good friends ever since.

The five of them, you remind yourself as your gaze settles on Harry, who is lounging in the chair directly across from you.

Harry—Alex’s best friend. Harry—Alex’s best man.

You wanted to rip your hair from your scalp when Ella broke the news. Several images flashed through your head all at once. You and Harry inching rigidly down the aisle, arms linked. You and Harry donning the same colours, your gown complimenting the spry flower pinned to the lapel of his suit. You and Harry flanking Ella and Alex while they recite their vows, glaring daggers at each other behind your friends’ backs. Even now, the mere thought of it has you biting down on an exasperated groan.

You don’t realise that you’ve zoned out until the faint quirk of Harry’s mouth catches your eye. You blink once to yank yourself from your daze, and clench your jaw when you find him staring at you with an amused look on his face. He places his elbows against the arms of the chair and clasps his hands together. Unmistakable smugness emanates from him, as if he somehow managed to crawl inside your mind and saw exactly what you were envisioning. Your nostrils flare, and you fix your attention back on Ella, who has reached the end of her speech.

“Cheers,” she says, holding up her glass. The champagne inside sloshes and fizzles temptingly. Would she allow you to chug the entire bottle, if you asked?

Everyone around the table mirrors her movements, raising their own drinks and touching them together lightly. Quiet, delicate clanking fills the room, and the friendly chatter resumes. You nudge Ella with your elbow, shooting her a proud smile. “That was great, El.”

She beams. “Thanks, cookie.” She then picks up her fork and motions to the plate in front of her, piled high with seasoned chicken and steaming, roasted vegetables. “Let’s eat.”

~*~

“Are you sure you’ve got him?” Alex asks Sasha, gesturing to the very inebriated Connor wobbling at his side.

Sasha wraps one arm around their friend, letting Connor rest his full weight against him. He bares two rows of perfect ivory teeth, flashing a wicked grin. “Yeah. Besides, I’ve been meaning to pay him back for the shit he pulled at the barbecue last month. There’s a Sharpie in my car.”

“You’re going to draw a dick on his face, aren’t you?” Alex muses.

“Obviously.”

With that, Alex bids them both farewell, shutting the door and heaving a dramatic sigh. Ella approaches him after a moment, hooking her chin over his shoulder and murmuring something indiscernible into his ear. He chuckles softly.

“Didn’t peg you as the voyeur type, sweetheart,” a low voice says from behind you.

You jump, whirling around and coming face-to-face with Harry. He’s got a green washcloth slung over his left shoulder—the shade brings out his eyes, a traitorous voice in your head whispers—and his arms are folded neatly across his chest. Your gaze falls to the collar of his black button-up, where he’s undone the first two discs, leaving his sternum exposed. Tendrils of ink peek out from beneath the dark material.

You frown and take a step back, putting distance between your bodies. “You’re such an asshole.”

“So I’ve heard.” His lips twitch, and he rolls up his sleeves. “Now, if you’re done ogling them like a lovestruck puppy, I could use some help in the kitchen.”

You grit your teeth, but follow him into the other room. Harry grabs the rag hanging over his shoulder and holds it out for you. You snatch it from his fingers without a word, and the two of you take up residence in front of the sink. Harry plunges his hands into the soapy water, rinsing the dishes thoroughly before passing them to you. You stand as far away from him as possible while you dry each plate, your movements stiff and choppy. This is not how you wanted to finish off the night, but Alex and Ella spent the entire day preparing the food, and it was delicious. The least you can do is spare them the hassle of tidying up.

The tense silence eats at you, until you feel like you might explode. Unable to bear it any longer, you hastily blurt, “Saw you getting pretty cozy with Hillary before dinner.”

Immediately, you want to kick yourself. Where the fuck did that come from?

Harry snorts, shrugging coolly. “We’ve hooked up a few times, but it’s nothing serious.” He shoots you a mischievous grin. “You jealous?”

“Of Hillary?” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Please. The woman’s standards are practically underground. Why else would she be interested in someone like you?”

Harry scowls, and hot satisfaction surges through your veins. Yes, the taunt was mean, but no, you don’t care. “You’re a real bitch sometimes, you know that?” he says.

You flash him a petty, insincere smile. “Only to you.”

He squeezes the yellow sponge nestled in his right hand, scrubbing it forcefully across a dirty plate. “Maybe you should find someone to hook up with. It might help get that stick out of your ass.”

“I have better things to do,” you sneer, narrowing your eyes.

“Better than sex?” He chokes on a derisive laugh.

“Yes.”

“Like what?”

“Like…things!” you snap, fingers curling into tight fists. “I run my own business, for God’s sake. And I’m going to make Ella’s wedding cake.” You announce the last part proudly, hauling your chin into the air.

Harry, however, looks unimpressed. He shakes his head, blowing out a heavy sigh. “Uh-oh.”

You pause. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs again, but you detect a hint of malice behind the action. “It’s just…I’ve seen the way you decorate cakes. Ella might be better off going elsewhere—you know, to an actual professional.”

Son of a—

“That’s rich, coming from you,” you say, motioning to the mismatched tattoos littered across his arm. “What would you know about professionalism? It looks like you let a preschooler doodle all over you.”

Harry bares his teeth in a feral grin. “Deflection. I’m not surprised.”

You bristle at his words. “Asshole.”

“You’ll need to get a bit more creative with the insults, sweetheart. I’m growing bored.”

“Is that so?” you say. “I think ‘asshole’ suits you just fine. Maybe you should have become a proctologist instead of a paediatrician.”

“At least I pursued something I was good at. I’m not sure if you can say the same.”

“You fucking—”

“Everything okay in here?” Ella asks, floating into the kitchen. You spin around to conceal your anger, placing your hands against the counter and inhaling deeply. You roll your shoulders back and slap an artificial smile onto your face before turning once more.

“Everything’s fine,” you say, and fake a yawn, covering your mouth with your palm. “I think I’m going to call it a night. I’m exhausted.”

Ella’s bottom lip juts out into a pout. Her red lipstick has faded, leaving only a stain of scarlet in its wake. On cue, Alex walks into the kitchen behind her, setting a steady hand on her hip and cocking his head to the side. “Hey. Everything okay in here?”

You nearly snort. Fucking soulmates.

“All good,” you tell him, nodding brusquely. “I’m just going to finish up with the dishes and head home.”

“Okay.” Alex presses a soft kiss to Ella’s temple, murmuring something about needing to get out of his stuffy clothes. You whirl, drying the last of the plates with frantic, shaky fingers. In your peripheral vision, you spy Harry watching you, but the stupid bastard must possess some scrap of self-preservation, because he keeps his mouth shut. You say nothing else as you whack the rag down onto the counter and stride out of the room.

You don’t miss Alex and Ella’s hushed whispers at the other end of the hall, but a little voice in your head tells you not to interrupt them. You halt at the front door, snatching your purse off one of the metal hooks mounted on the wall. You’re in the middle of putting on your shoes when you hear it:

“I was hoping we could arrange a truce, you know.”

You twist around, palm flying to your chest. Harry is standing a few feet away, his hands still wet with the water from the sink. He clasps them together and ducks his head, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think he was ashamed.

Something vile bubbles in the pit of your stomach. You gnaw on the flesh of your cheek, trying to reel your emotions back in. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of witnessing another outburst.

“Keep your fucking truce,” you spit, and wrench open the door. You shoot him one last withering look before stepping out of the condo and slamming it shut.

[deexchanel]

little girl in a box.

word count:

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x BlackFem!Reader

Warning: Swearing, mention of killing😬.

Summary: Bucky and Y/N comes home from their date to find a sweetheart in a box.

A/N: this haven't been my week so im using fanfiction to be a distraction.

Y/N and Bucky walked up the stairs to their apartment in Bucharest. They were holding hands, engaged in a conversation.

"I was thinking, what if I made shrimp alfredo?" Y/N asked as their hands sway back and forth. Bucky looked at her confused.

"What's alfredo?"

"Oh my god, you never had it before?"

"I mean in the army they boiled everything. It wasn't really lavish."

"Everything boiled sound so nasty."

"I know right but I managed. What's going to be in it?"

"Shrimp and pasta with Alfredo sauce. I think you're going to love it!"

"That's fine with me babe, as long as it isn't soup."

"Same." Y/N laughed letting go of his hand so she could unlock the door. Normally they would go through the window. But just for one night, they didn't want to be paranoid. Just to have one normal night.

Bucky stopped in his tracks staring at a medium size box that had big holes poked in it. "Y/N were you expecting something?"

"No." Y/N with hesitation getting worried that this might a setup. Bucky pulled her behind him protectively then proceeded to nudge open the box. The box top fell off and a pair of brown doe eyes stared back at them. Bucky hardened face expression soften as he saw a beautiful little girl in the box.

Whoever left this beautiful child in the box was a horrible person in general. The little girl sat up looking at the couple nervously. Bucky squat down so they could be eye level.

"Hi princess... I'm Bucky and that's my girlfriend Y/N. Would you like to tell me your name?" Bucky said softly then pointed at Y/N who waved giving a toothless smile. It was like Bucky's dad instincts kicked in as he felt the need to protect the little girl any way he could.

She shook her head as a way of saying she didn't want to talk. Her body was skinny seeming that she haven't ate in a couple of days. She looked no older then 4. Y/N squat down to help ease her nerves.

"How about we go in and get you something to eat?"

The little girl looked at Y/N scaredly and instantly held her arms out for Bucky. Y/N sigh knowing that whatever happened in this girl past, she was scared of women she didn't trust. Bucky picked her up gently not wanted to hurt her with his arm.

They walked into the apartment and Y/N quickly started to prepare dinner. Bucky sat on the bed while the little girl sat on the side of them. He tries to start conversation again with her.

"Can you tell me your name now?"

The little girl looked around before speaking softly,"Melanie.."

The pair looked at each otherin shock, he got her to talk. There wasn't any technology in the room so they best way to stay entertained was to have conversation.

"Well Melanie how old are you?" Bucky questioned.

"Five." She said but held up three fingers making Bucky smile in amusement. He helped her by raising up another finger.

"How old are you?"

Y/N giggled while fixing their bowls. Nobody have ever asked him that. Bucky laughed since its been a long time since someone asked him that.

"Well doll, I'm 106."

Melanie made a funny face turning her head to the side. Y/N came over with three bowls in her hands. Bucky grabbed the bowls passing one to Melanie, while holding the other ones as Y/N sat down so she wouldn't spill it.

"Can I eat all of it? I've been good all week." Melanie moved some of her hair from her face with a a sadden expression. Y/N felt so bad for her, this wasn't right.

"Baby you can eat all it. I can make more if you want some okay?"

"Okay." Melanie smiled digging in her food. Bucky and Y/N shared a look. He was angry that she went through horrible things at a young age.

After dinner, Bucky washed and put the dishes away while Y/N laid down on the mattress. Melanie kept picking her head up to see if Bucky was coming.

"He's coming honey, he's washing dishes."Y/N laughed softly realizing what she was doing. "You tired?"

Melanie shook her head, rubbing her eyes,"No."

"Yes you are. Come here?" Y/N asked nicely but Melanie poked out her lip. She was sitting in the middle of the mattress near Y/N's knees.

"Noo, I'm waiting on Bucky."

"Here I am princess." Bucky grunt getting on his knees behind her. Melanie looked happy as he picked her up, walking on his knees to get to this spot on the mattress. Y/N laid on her side, watching them in admiration. 

Melanie was very brave and didn't take long getting used to the couple. Food was a way to her heart so the trust came quickly. She was snuggled between Bucky and Y/N while they cuddled her enjoying their sleep.

-----------

2:48 a.m.

People smashing through the apartment windows starled them awoke. Before Bucky could reach for his gun, a man punched him in the face. Y/N quickly grabbed Melanie holding her into her chest then gets up grabbing the emergency bookbag.

The couple agreed that if this was to happen then find the best way out possible. They would find each other no matter how far away they was. Bucky did one on one combat with the man that broke in.

"GO Y/N!"

She nodded rushing to the door making sure to keep a good grip on Melanie. When she opened the door a man stood their with a gun pointed directly at her head. Melanie start to cry with all the commotion going on. Tears start to fall out of Y/N's eyes, thinking this was it.

"Go back in now or I won't hesitate putting one between your eyes." The man sneered putting the cold gun on her forehead. Y/N turned around going back into the apartment. Bucky closed his eyes trying not to lose it as he saw his family being held at gun point.  He was being held at gun point as well but he was hoping that his girls was able to get away.

"So Winter Soldier, you really thought you could get away." A man laughed turning on a light revealing his face. It was Rumlow holding Bucky at gun point and the man that held Y/N at gun point was Pierce. Bucky chest heaved up and down as he was getting angrier.

Melanie little face was turning red from how hard she was crying. Pierce rapidly pointed another gun in his other hand at Melanie's little forehead.

"NO!"Bucky jumped forward but Rumlow put the gun on his forehead making him stop. Pierce took the gun off safety pressing it harder on Melanie's forehead which makes Y/N sob harder.

"Shut the little brat up!"

"Melanie baby, stop... stop crying we're okay. Bucky's okay." Y/N lied hoping she was to stop crying. Melanie cries turns into sniffles looking at Y/N hopefully.

Y/N nod her head crying,"We're okay baby."

Bucky felt like he let his girls down. He was so angry that he wanted to kill both of them but he couldn't move. "I'll go back and do whatever. Just p-please leave my family out of this."

"That's what I wanted to hear! Cuff him!" Pierce exclaimed letting the guns drop from Y/N and Melanie. Y/N shook her head not wanting Bucky to leave and endure all the things they worked so hard for him to forget.

"Bucky no!”

"Shut it bitch!" Pierce snapped at her holding the gun to her head again making her jump. It was killing Bucky for not being able to help.

"I'm sorry Y/N. I love you." Bucky sigh putting his arms behind his back so Rumlow could cuff him. As Rumlow did, Redwing flew in dropping a disk on Pierce's forehead electrocuting him. Sending him unconscious.

Bucky ducked as Rumlow shot the gun towards him making the girls scream. Sam flew in the window taking out the extra gaurd that stood by the refrigerator. Bucky stood up swiftly so he could take out Rumlow.

He smirked aiming the gun towards the girls," I guess nobody's getting what they want." Rumlow shot the gun at the girls. Y/N used her body to shield Melanie. Bucky stared in horror as he tried to get to them but Steve's shield covered them from the bullets.

Bucky turned around angrily at Rumlow pulling out the secret gun that was in his  waist holster. With no hesitation, Bucky shoots him between the eyes. Rumlow body fell to the ground.

Y/N came from behind Steve's large frame. She walked over to Bucky and pulled him into a hug without crushing Melanie's little body. Bucky rubbed his hand through Y/N hair and kissed Melanie's forehead. They didn't have anything to say, they were just grateful to all be alive.

"I'm so sorry to ruin this moment guys but we need to go. Their supposed to be bringing in reinforcements any second." Steve said placing his shield on his back.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y. bring the jet back around." Sam pressed his finger on the com.

--------------------

On the jet, it was quiet but peaceful time for them to rejuvenate. Bucky couldn't sleep so he watched over his girls who were sleeping.

Melanie slept on his chest with his metal arm holding her up so her face could implant into his neck. Y/N was cuddled up with his arm wrapped around her. He kissed their foreheads every other second for his comfort.

"Thank you guys." Bucky said to Sam and Steve who were sitting in the in the front seats of quinjet.

"Just gald you guys are safe." Steve pat his hand on Bucky's shoulder.

"Plus we were able to kill two birds with one stone. Bonus but glad we could help."Sam said making Bucky smiled. He looked at his girls, very content with life.

------------

horrible writing.

I wrote this bout a year ago. I don't like it, but i just needed it as a distraction.

stay slutty my friends

[flowersbby]

Star Struck | Corpse Husband x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Swearing (If I’m missing any let me know please! :) )

a/n: You’re a model/ streamer in this one! :D I’m thinking about if I should turn this into a series or not? Lmk what you think. I hope you like it <3

It was a nice morning. The sun was shining through the tall windows that showed you a view of your balcony onto your bed, there was a slight breeze so it wasn’t too hot, and you could hear the birds chirping with the occasional honking due to LA traffic. The only reason you woke up was because the sun was shining right in your face. You groaned and put a pillow over your face. I really don’t want to get up right now. Just a few more minutes.. You thought and right as you were about to take the pillow off your face and turn over onto your other side so you could go back to sleep, your phone started ringing. “Ugh!” You groaned once again and reached for your phone that was on your nightstand. You looked at the caller ID and saw that it was your manager, Chris. You accepted the call and put the phone to your ear. “What do you want?” You asked in an annoyed and tired tone. You were definitely NOT a morning person. You hated mornings.

“Oh my God,” He said in a rushed tone, “Have you literally JUST woken up? You have a photoshoot in 2 hours! Makeup and wardrobe are waiting for you down here!” Your eyes widened. You completely forgot about it.

“I-I’ll be right there!” You told him and hung up. You sprang out of bed and almost ran to your walk in closet, your eyes scanning for a top that would match the black leather skirt you wanted to wear for the day. You decided on a black mesh body suit with a black crop top under it. All black today. like your soul. You quickly put on some black heels and brushed your hair, cringing at how the brush tugged on your hair when it reached a knot. You didn’t bother doing your makeup since your makeup team would take it off anyway. You fast walked to the door of your apartment, grabbed your purse off the hook, and opened your door to leave to your photoshoot.

                                                      🖤🖤🖤

After a lot of yelling from Chris for holding the makeup and wardrobe team up, you did your photoshoot and got to go home. When you got home, you took a mirror picture of your outfit and uploaded it to Instagram, putting the caption as “Fashionably Late 🖤💋”. You smiled at the influx of likes right as it posted. You were truly lucky to have your supporters, but you wanted one person in particular to see it. 

Corpse’s POV

I was casually playing Among Us with my friends while they streamed when I felt my phone vibrate slightly on my lap. I began to feel anxious to check my phone since I only have notifications on for one person but I didn’t want to take my eyes off the screen since I was following Jack, who I was sus of. Right when him and I entered electrical, he broke my neck. I felt relieved though since I got to finally look at (y/n)’s post.

My eyes widened when I saw the picture of her outfit. She looked good. Very good. I double tapped on it and immediately went to the comment section out of curiosity of what other people were saying. I looked at all the comments saying how pretty she was and smiled, but the comments made by creepy people made my blood boil. I wish I could just reply to them and say “That’s my girl. Stop.” but we both agreed to keep our relationship out of the public eye and I was truly fine with that. I just wish I could protect her from the creeps out there. 

I wasn’t even paying attention to the game until I suddenly saw “Victory” appear on my screen. “Let’s goooo!” I said into the mic. Everyone else was celebrating as well.

“Hey!” Rae exclaimed, “Let’s get (y/n) in here, she just got home.” My heart skipped a beat and I smiled.

“Yes!” I said a little too excited. Everyone else didn’t notice it though and agreed with me. I quickly texted her out of excitement.

Your POV

After receiving an invite from Rae and booting up your computer, as well as getting everything prepared to stream, you got a text from Corpse. You quickly grabbed your phone to respond back to whatever he said.

My Love 😊💖💖

im so excited to hear your voice

i’ve missed you

<3

You blushed at his messages. You thought about what to text back for a minute until you figured out what to say.

You

I have so much to tell you from today

I missed you so much bb

ft later?

You set your phone back on your desk and loaded up Among Us, joining the discord call while you wait. You were greeted by everyone as you joined.

“(Y/n)! Good noon!” Greeted Rae. You smiled as everyone in the call erupted in hello’s.

“Hey, (y/n).” Corpse said after everyone else had their chance to greet you.

Your stomach did backflips from him just saying your name. “Hi~” You said in a sing songy voice and started streaming. “How are all you guys doing?” You asked as your picked up your water from your desk and started drinking.

“Good now that you’re here..” Corpse muttered. You choked on your water and erupted in coughing, taken aback from what he said. Good thing your were muted.

“Corpse?!” Yelled Poki.

“What did you say?!” Also yelled Felix. The rest were just erupting in Aw’s.

“U-uh,” Corpse stuttered, “I meant that because (y/n) is such a good imposter and I’ve been a little off my game today so I’m hoping we get imposter together so I have some content for a video.” Good cover up.. You thought as your coughing got under control. I think he forgot to mute himself. 

“Yeah!” You exclaimed, “We got this my dude!” You took a glance at chat and saw everyone going crazy. Half of them were typing in all caps asking for someone to clip that moment, and half were shipping you and corpse.

“I can only play one game anyway,” Corpse said, “I have stuff to do.” You frowned at what he said. You haven’t gotten to talk with him all day because of how rushed you were this morning and now you won’t have time to talk with him now because of how different your schedules are. Even though you two loved each other a lot you have had your arguments about this with him. You hate that he lives two hours from you or else this wouldn’t be an issue. You would be over at his house everyday if he lived in LA. You hated long distance.

You had a great time playing with your friends, but when Corpse left you got a little gloomy. He wasn’t answering your texts either. You sighed and changed into his hoody he left in your closet when he visited last and put on some grey pajama shorts. You tied your hair into a messy bun so it wouldn’t get in your way for the rest of the night even though you were just going to watch Netflix in your bed and eat chips. After grabbing your snacks, you walked to your bedroom and opened the glass door to the balcony in your room, turned your LED lights to (f/c), got comfortable in your bed, and turned on your favorite show on your TV.

You were scrolling through Instagram as you heard a knock at your door. A scared feeling washed over you and you paused what you were doing. It was like you were frozen in time and if you made one sudden movement everything would come crashing down. They knocked again. You were scared that some crazed fan found your address to your apartment. Cautiously, you walked to your door and looked through the peek hole. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach and a wide grin appeared on your face as you saw who it was. You quickly unlocked your door and opened it. You wasted no time and grabbed Corpse’s face and kissed him with so much passion you didn’t want to stop. He lifted you up and held your thighs in his hands, walking into your apartment and shutting the door with his foot. “I’ve missed you so much baby.” He breathed as he kept kissing you.

You pulled away from the heated session and Corpse carefully placed you on your feet. You hugged him. “I missed you too.” You said and didn’t want to let go. Corpse placed a kiss on your head as he hugged you and rubbed your back. You realized something and pulled away from the hug. “Where’s your stuff?” Noticing he didn’t have a suitcase.

He looked at you with a blank expression. “Fuuuckk....” He groaned. “I forgot it.” 

You looked at him confused. “How do you forget your stuff. It’s a two hour drive here!” You laughed.

He scratched the back of his neck embarrassed. “I really missed you and I was excited to surprise you,” He explained. “I didn’t want to get here late and have you asleep so I didn’t even think about packing.”

You smiled. “Well, at least you have a ton of clothes here you’ve left.” 

He smirked, looking at his hoodie on your body. “Yeah, I see that.”

You smirked back at him, turned around, and began to walk back into your bedroom, wanting him to follow you. Corpse quickly swept you off your feet and put you over his shoulder, plopping you on the bed as he got on top of you. He looked into your eyes. “I’m tired.” He muttered.

“Let’s cuddle then, baby.” You smile. He smiles back at you tiredly as he moves off you to be the big spoon, pulling you against him by wrapping his arm around your waist. You felt happy in that moment. You finally got to be with the only man who loves you for you physically, instead of two hours away. You both fell asleep, taking in this moment.

[ackerfics]

the parent trap — levi ackerman (iv)

— levi ackerman x female reader (modern au | the parent trap au)

— warnings: angst??? and feels, i think

— summary: after assuming that everything was starting to shift further away from the plan, the people in the ackerman estate found out the identity of the boy mirroring the twin they know so well.

— word count: 8.6k (i know, i had to do it bc it's been so long)

— author's notes: finally, after weeks of not touching this series, i finally updated it. this part is centered around the reveal in levi's side of things. to those who watched the movie, you know things will go down from here. happy reading everyone !!

part one | part two | part three | masterlist

The news that was dropped on Altair last night stole away every ounce of sleep from him.

At first, he felt like everything collapsed on his shoulders. His mum is getting married? In what universe? There wasn’t even a decent man in a five-meter radius around his mother, well, except for her employees at the bridal shop. Nonetheless, all of the men trying to court her were turned down in an instant but why was she getting married to an idiot when he was away from home? The number of times he ran his hand through his hair and wishing everything was perfect can’t be counted on his fingers. First, it was that Cindy woman and now, an unknown man wooing you with serenades and God knows what in London has added himself in the list of pesky outliers. There shouldn’t be outliers in the first place. Throughout the night, Altair made his mind busy by making adjustments in their plan, eyes fixed on the ceiling in concentration.

The next thing he knew, daybreak dripped on his eyelids, peeking through the spaces between his curtains. Altair sat up on his bed and rubbed his eyes free of sleep crust before turning to his alarm clock on the nightstand. A red 9:34 glared at him, telling him he overslept. The boy huffed and plopped himself back on the plush mattress, his pillows swallowing him whole as he tried to give himself more hours of sleep. His five-minute doze was interrupted with a knock on his door. It took everything in him not to shout ‘five more minutes' so he decided to might as well wake himself up by walking to the door and answering the person on the other side.

Petra’s face beamed at him and Altair had to narrow his eyes because Petra’s smile was too bright for his own good. It was like looking too long at the sunrise.

“Good morning, Al!” the redhead greeted him.

“Morning, Petra,” Altair replied, rubbing his eyes again. “I’m sorry I overslept.”

Petra waved him off. “It’s fine. I expected it yesterday since you just came home from camp. You must be so tired. Why don’t you go take a bath and change and come downstairs for some breakfast? I’m sure this will wake you up — I cooked your favorites.” The boy nodded at her suggestion. She tried teasing him by calling his name again, Altair turning around to acknowledge his nanny with a raised eyebrow. “You know, I’d probably oversleep, too, if I were up in the middle of the night making mysterious phone calls from my bathroom. It’s pretty quiet in here at midnight so I think that pretty much exposed you.”

Altair froze at Petra’s inquiring tone, blinking his speechlessness. In an instant, he doesn’t feel sleepy anymore. He scratched his undercut. “Uhm, it was a friend from camp. He just wanted to talk to me, that’s all.”

The redhead hummed as she crossed her arms. “Ooh-kay. Well, your breakfast will be waiting on the kitchen counter!” She shouted while making her way downstairs.

“Okay!” Altair yelled back.

He opened his closet and took out a blue flannel, a white undershirt, and a pair of jeans. Without wasting any more time, Altair got himself ready by taking a bath just as Petra suggested and made himself presentable once he reached the kitchen. His hair was still wet, a towel wrapped around his shoulders when he inhaled the savory smell of breakfast on the first floor. As Altair sat on the high counter stool, Petra turned around from cutting up fruits and placed too many plates in front of the boy with a smile. He couldn’t control the twitch in his eyebrows as he stared at his breakfast. Is his twin really eating this much food every morning? He realized he might be coming off as rude since he was only staring at the number of bacon slices on his plate so Altair took a bite of bacon and let the sound of knives against the cutting board flit through his ears.

“Petra?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I have a cup of rose tea?”

Petra stopped cutting the mangos and stared at Altair, who was immersed in doing small bites of his breakfast. The redhead stared for a moment and assessed the way Altair picked up his fork and knife — it was the same way a certain someone did back in college when Levi’s friend group and lover ate meals together. Now that Petra remembered it; when you gave birth to the twins, she mentioned how one of them inherited the shape of your eyes. It could be a trick of the light but Altair’s eyes were softer in the edges instead of the sharpness Levi adorned, the boy’s eyelashes slightly fuller than usual.

“Petra?”

The said woman jumped at the mention of her name, with Altair’s face scrunched up in worry at her lack of response. She cleared her throat while transferring the mangos in a small bowl, sliding it towards Altair. “Yeah?”

The silver-eyed boy rose an eyebrow. “Are you alright? You look like you were in a trance there.”

“I’m fine.” Petra washed her hands before wiping them dry with a clean towel. Her gaze went from the boy’s expectant stare to his unfinished breakfast. This was weird. Altair usually never leaves any leftovers on his plate, it was what Levi taught him since he could eat on his own. Pushing this matter at the back of her mind, she smiled. “You’re not going to finish that, Al?”

Altair looked down on his half-eaten scrambled eggs, bacon slices, and still full pasta salad. He only had a couple of bites from the last dish and wished he could eat more but the two slices of bacon and scrambled eggs made him full in an instant. His stomach couldn’t handle too much in an early hour. He needed the tea to wash all this down. “No, I’m not, I think I’m full,” he answered, patting his stomach with a grin. He hoped Petra wouldn’t notice that his appetite wasn’t like his twin. That idiot (his twin, never Petra) appeared small like him but the buffoon has a vacuum inside his torso, always hungry at the wee hours of the day. If this was roast beef, this was a different story. “Must be because I’m tired from the trip. I don’t feel like eating and moving around too much.”

Petra nodded in understanding, preparing the rose tea the boy requested. She was waiting for the water to boil as she glanced at Levi’s pride and joy. “So why rose tea?”

“Pardon?”

Pardon? With a suppressed chuckle, Petra turned around with an incredulous expression on her face. “Camp made you prim and proper, huh? So why rose tea, champ?”

“Because I thought it would be nice to try the flower teas instead of the fruit-flavored ones this time. I know Dad has been experimenting with flowers for the next blends.”

Petra hummed, letting the tea steep for a few minutes. The scent of roses immediately wafted across the kitchen, making the two sigh in contentment. Petra wasn’t one for tea but smelling the pink drink made her want to try one. She presented the cup of rose tea to the black-haired boy, who was leaning forward to finally have his drink, his silver eyes sparkling at the small petals floating on top of his tea. Petra knew she was watching Altair closely but all her doubts flew out the window when she witnessed the boy hold the teacup the same way Levi does. Maybe she was looking into this too much. She shook her head and took away the leftovers, placing them in containers.

She missed the way Altair blew out a sigh of relief, a small half-smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

Altair stood up from his seat, patting his lap from imaginary dust and placing the towel from his shoulders to the back of the counter stool. He took a long sip of his tea before grinning widely at his nanny. “Thank you so much for breakfast, Petra!”

“No problem, kiddo. Oh, and your Dad wants to talk to you about something. He’s in his office.”

“Okay!”

The black-haired boy walked past the archway leading to the living room, where the glass double doors to the patio were located. Snuggling on the floor and chewing on his toy was Levi’s golden retriever, Captain. Altair flinched when he saw the dog shift their head in his direction. A series of barks came out of the pet, making the boy hurry for the handles of the double doors. His heart was pounding when he couldn’t get the doors to open, pulling on them as Captain was now standing up to give him another round of barks. It caught the attention of Petra and the woman instantly shot to the living room but not before shouting something that made Altair’s ears turn red of embarrassment.

“Push, Al.” Petra was now wrapping her arms around the dog, eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

Altair stopped for a moment, twisting the handles of the double doors and pushing them just as Petra said. He turned around with a sheepish smile, chuckling nervously because this mistake might have lost him the plan. “Must have slipped my mind.” He had never gotten out of a house that quickly in his entire life.

Only when he stepped foot on the patio that he could breathe normally. Altair kicked a pebble on the pathway, hands snug inside his pockets, as he thought about what his father will tell him. He followed the pathway until he was met with a slope, a building looking the main estate was sitting on top of the small hill overlooking the plantation. With a bundle of nerves swirling in his stomach, Altair took a deep breath and trekked the hill. The higher he got, hectares of a variety of tea trees greeted his vision, mimicking the sea with its vastness. It was the first time he saw something so wide and before he knew it, questions started entering his mind.

If the Ackerman family held so much money, why did his grandparents make his mum go back to London? Why did they take away the only person who made her feel loved in every sort of way possible? She could’ve been happy here. Everything is so soothing and secure.

The sound of people talking snapped him back to reality. Altair shook his head and continued his small walk towards the building. It looked like there was more activity in here than he imagined. People were sorting out the tea leaves they harvested and others were manning a machine meant for grounding the leaves. It was so busy that he didn’t realize he stopped in front of the huge window showing all of the employees trying to keep Levi’s business booming.

A person rounding the building noticed his gawking and smiled a little. They clutched the flowers they picked for the new blends Levi was experimenting on and went to the black-haired boy. “Al, welcome home. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here yesterday to welcome you back.”

The silver-eyed boy turned around to the young woman sharing his features — the same jet-black hair, pale complexion, and shade of silver for the eyes (though hers were more on the bluish side of the spectrum). He tried recalling the family members his brother told him to remember. There was a woman with the same appearance in one of the pictures. She was hugging the Altair she knows, their smiles shining through the piece of shiny paper. She was the older cousin his twin was telling so many stories about since she was the only one closer to his age around the household. The Altair standing in front of her right now smiled, muttering her name, “Mikasa.”

Mikasa returned the smile with her own, sitting on her heels to meet the boy’s eyes. “How was camp?”

“My opponent in a fencing competition pushed me in the washing area of our pavilion.”

Mikasa winced, ruffling the boy’s hair gently. “Why did they do that?”

Altair shrugged, feeling proud of himself for doing that to his twin despite being guilty to this day. “Guess he was better than me at fencing. He has a teacher specifically for that sport back in their hometown.”

“Oh, wow. If you want someone to practice fencing with, I’ll gladly help you.” The young woman tilted her head with a smile. “That is if you want to go back to that camp next summer. I’ll even learn the rules for you.”

The older of the two had so many records in her portfolio. Altair recalled that his brother was gushing about how Mikasa was a part of the track and field team the entirety of her stay in college. She was also a part of a volleyball club when she was in high school. This young woman has everything in her belt and it would be so good if Altair practiced fencing with her. However, he also realized that Mikasa probably had her hands full with academic and familial responsibilities. “But you have your final year in college, though, and you’re so busy in the plantation.”

Mikasa once again tousled Altair’s hair, chuckling under her breath. “Anything for my baby cousin so don’t worry about it.” She looked down at the pile of flowers in her arms. She handed a single red lily flower to Altair. “Here, to brighten up your day.” Mikasa stood up and waved at Altair. “I’m testing these flowers out with some berries, kiddo. I’ll be in the kitchen by the sorting room with Annie. If we can get the right combination, we’ll let you try some. Your dad is in his office waiting for you.” With that, Mikasa turned around but not before ruffling Altair’s hair again.

Altair nodded at nobody in particular and entered the building with a slight skip in his steps. The office was situated on the second floor of the manor-like establishment. The color palette of red and olive green was still observed in the interior but the large, open balcony let in enough light to illuminate the second floor. There was a railing surrounding the middle space of the entire floor, perfect for looking down and observing the bustling life inside the house. Altair’s destination, however, was the door to the left side of the second floor down a painting-covered hallway. He tentatively knocked on the door with his father’s name pinned on it. Altair faintly heard someone call inside the room and opened the door to peek his head in.

Levi was behind his desk, phone close to his ear. “Yes, Erwin. I thought you will be visiting because of Altair today. I see. No problem. You can visit the plantation anytime.” He glanced at the opened door, seeing Altair meekly staring at him. He smiled a little before telling Erwin, “Al’s here. Yeah. The stocks are fine and the new blends are coming out great. Sure, I’ll send you some. Bye.” The silver-eyed man sighed as he placed his phone on the desk. “You can come in, Al. Usually, you just barge in here and wait for me on the couch.” Levi hummed, eyes softening at the sight of his son grinning in front of him.

Altair chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “I thought it was an important call.”

“It was just Eyebrows.”

“Whatever you say, Dad.”

The boy sat on the couch, eyes inconspicuously roaming around the office. He heard the sound of a chair scraping against the floor and Altair looked up to find his dad preparing a cup of tea in the kitchenette installed in the room. He looked away from Levi and shifted his attention to the framed photographs on the desk. Everything wasn’t facing him but there was one frame positioned to face the person behind the desk. Altair craned his neck to get a glimpse of the picture, his eyes going back and forth between the frame and his dad, who was waiting for the tea to steep. With his body draping over the couch and neck stretching as far as he could (the position was starting to hurt), Altair saw that it was a picture of you, his mum. The silver-eyed boy gasped because it was you in a wedding dress.

“Blimey.”

“Al?”

Altair dropped the position with a huff. He straightened himself to face a confused Levi, a tray of two teacups filled with raspberry tea held by his hands. “Thought I could just, you know,” he nervously chuckled, “get a good stretch after oversleeping. So what’s up, Dad?”

Levi hummed, placing the tray on the low table. He sat beside Altair, body facing the little boy as he surveyed the innocent smile plastered on his son as he sipped on his cup of tea, the two of them mirroring how they held their cups. Maybe it was because Al went away for summer camp in the last eight weeks or maybe he was just missing you and your presence in his life, but Levi felt his heart clench at how fast his little boy was growing. The summer camp must be a blessing in disguise because his boy came home with newfound manners and the whole time he was away, he thought hard enough to make a decision he won’t come to regret. Eight weeks was a long time, things are bound to change. So Levi cleared his throat and readied himself in spilling his carefully thought-out plans to his son.

“There’s something really important I want to talk to you about, Al,” Levi started, putting this teacup back on the low table.

“That’s funny because there’s something really important that I want to talk to you about.”

“Yeah? Well, you go first, kiddo.”

Altair shook his head rapidly, gulping down his tea first. “No, you first, Dad.”

“Hmm.” The black-haired man carefully formulated the words in his mind. The first order of business was to cut off any people who would dare hurt his son. Yesterday was just the catalyst in his ongoing debate with Petra all summer to get rid of the publicist leeching off of him. From the look on Altair’s face while he was wading in the pool, Levi figured that Cynthia said something to him that might have shaken his mind. He leveled his gaze with Altair’s and told him, “Okay, I want to talk to you about Cynthia, the hired publicist for the teahouse and plantation.”

The boy turned his body so that he was seeing his father eye to eye. “And I wanted to talk to you about Mom.” Altair furrowed his eyebrows in distaste. “Oh, so Cynthia’s her name. What about Cynthia?”

Levi blinked in surprise. He knew Altair was a smart kid but he didn’t expect him to pick up on things so fast. There was no one in the estate that he shared his current sentiments. Petra was known to be a person not careful enough to keep a secret hidden from Altair and Erwin will most likely tease Levi throughout the day if he revealed his plans. Not to mention that Mikasa will probably indulge his kid in spilling every embarrassing thing about him so that makes his niece out of the list of people worthy enough to be told a secret.

With a calm voice, he regarded his little him with a flat expression. “What about your mom?”

Altair groaned in exasperation. “Dad, I’m almost twelve. I’m at a point in my life to ask about the whereabouts of my mom. You can’t expect me to believe the stork story all my life!”

A slow inhale and a look at the ceiling was all Levi needed to compose himself. “You know what, that is a story for later. But first, we’re going to talk about the publicist. Did she say anything to you? Anything that might have hurt you in any way yesterday?”

One pair of gray eyes looked away from the other to examine the invisible dust gathering on top of the coffee table. Altair wanted to tell Levi that Cynthia was trying to exploit him, trying to wound him in her trap and to make him fall in love with her. But the way that his father was insisting on the topic of Cynthia instead of you didn’t sit right with him at all. To Altair, it looked like Levi was desperate to clean the woman’s name and to make him build a relationship with her when the time comes that she’ll be carrying the Ackerman name. He mentally apologized to his other half across the ocean for not having the strength to continue the plan. Because as he glanced at Levi, the man’s concern apparent on the glint of his eyes, Altair wanted his father to be happy — to love someone without any pain that spanned for more than a decade.

“No, she didn’t say anything to me. She just told me how happy she is to be on the plantation.”

As much as he was scared to be a father when his boys were born, Levi always knew if his son was lying after years of raising Altair alone (with the help of Petra but the nanny will always give him the credit). Right now, however, he couldn’t tell if Al was lying or not. “Al, are you telling me the truth? If not—“

The door burst open, bringing with it an overly dramatic woman. “Levi? Are you here, sweetie?”

Eld followed after Cynthia, his face betraying his aggravation at the woman. “Don’t just enter Levi’s office without permission, Ma’am!”

Cynthia scoffed, insulted at the term. “'Ma’am’?! I’m not that old, employee.”

The blonde man bristled. He tried puffing his chest to remind the publicist that he has more authority than just a last-minute accommodation in the staff, but he stopped when he saw Levi starting to stand up from the couch. He had never seen his boss express anger in his years of being Levi’s secretary, however, the apparent look on the onyx-haired man will probably drive Cynthia more than six feet under the surface. Eld dismissed Cynthia with a roll of his eyes, focusing on the annoyed man walking towards them with terrifying footsteps. “Levi, she just went inside the building. Believe me, we were trying to prevent her from getting her head cut off by you but she wouldn’t listen!” The blonde glared at the woman who was gasping dramatically, manicured hand pressed on her chest. “Levi, you have to believe me. Mikasa even had to—“

“I understand, Eld.” Levi’s voice was uncharacteristically icy. Sure, he was known for being blunt and dismissive at times but that was the man's nature in forming social relationships. The employees were used to him being that way. Right now, though, his glare could have frozen Cynthia in place. “What is this, Miss Maryland? I thought I told you to leave a message to my secretary if you want to have an appointment with me. But I remember telling you that I’m not free this day.”

Cynthia pouted. “But I also told you that I wanted to have lunch with you! Is your job more important than me? Or are you just using that as an excuse to not make time for me?”

Eld looked scandalized at the woman’s reaction while Altair was wincing at the sound of Cynthia’s whine.

Levi was praying for his ears as well, pinching the bridge of his nose to calm himself down. He looked at Altair at the corners of his eyes. “I don’t recall you being on my priority list, Miss Maryland, and I have plans with Al today anyway. Horseback riding.”

“You’re lying!” The woman turned to Altair. “Is this true, Al, darling?”

The boy quickly took note of the hint of desperation from his father’s eyes so he smiled. “Yeah, I’ll be riding Nox since I miss my horse while I was at camp.”

“You heard my kid,” Levi drawled. “Now get out. You’re invading my privacy — sounds fitting for your job.”

Cynthia’s face scrunched in disgust, turning around abruptly, her hair hitting Eld in the face. The blonde man sputtered before incredulously staring at the retreating publicist. There wouldn’t be any need for Mikasa to restrain her if needed since she knew the way out. Eld turned back to Levi and Altair, his face showing how guilty he was. “Levi, I’m really sorry. If I’d known she’ll barge in here like this.”

“No, it’s fine. Thank you, Eld.”

“Alright.” Eld trailed off, shifting his attention from Levi to Altair. He waved at Levi’s son before pointing at the door behind. “Have a great afternoon, you two.”

Levi nodded at his friend, sitting on the couch with a sigh when the door closed. He had to get rid of that publicist, she was starting to become a headache. Levi then felt a small weight on his shoulder. Turning his head to the side, a head of onyx hair greeted his vision. With a small smile, he lifted his arm and wrapped it around Altair, letting him snuggle into his side some more. The two of them cherished the silence as if the room was their haven, away from pesky publicists and the bustling activity a floor below.

Speeding through the plantation felt liberating for Altair. He wanted to raise his arms in the air as they zoomed by the small tea trees but that would mean having Levi being suspicious of him. At first, Altair thought that the predicament with Captain would be the same with Nox but the black beauty of a horse nuzzled his palm affectionately as if he was the real owner. Of course, it couldn’t happen without the help of the sugar cubes laid out on his palm. Now, he was laughing as he raced with his dad, their destination was the hill on the other side of the plantation. It looked like Levi was winning but Altair tried to spur Nox faster. A blur of black reached their landmark, a tree with a swing on it, and Altair whooped at the top of his lungs.

“I won!”

“You always win,” Levi told him, a loving stare directed at his son.

Altair turned his horse to meet Levi’s stare. “I do?”

A confused frown painted the silver-eyed man’s lips.

At that, Altair brightened immediately, realizing his mistake. “I do! Just slipped my mind again. I can’t seem to stop forgetting things. That’s so weird.”

Levi guided his horse to walk towards Altair’s. “Yeah, so weird,” he murmured until he was beside his son. They stared at the plantation with varying expressions. The boy looked so mesmerized at how the sun touched every single tree while Levi blankly surveyed the rows of what brought him to this moment. It was once upon a time when he brought you here during spring break in junior year at college, telling you his dreams of starting a tea plantation. You looked radiant against the sunset, the rays creating a halo that Levi wanted to preserve forever. Altair’s laugh when he won has the same smile as yours when you manage to outrun him in a race. Levi couldn’t help but think of a life with you and the twins here in the plantation and estate, the two boys growing up with each other and with both parents unlike now. The four of you wouldn’t experience the pain brought by the separation. But reality struck him hard when Altair breathed out an expelling sigh, eyes soft around the corners like yours.

“So, Al, do you think we’re lonely?”

The said boy looked at his dad, who was wistfully looking at the plantation like it was hurting him. “I don’t think so.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Altair’s grip on the reins tightened. “Why are you asking this, Dad?”

Levi took a deep breath. “Believe it or not, Al, but I feel lonely every night. The moon and the stars must be tired of my internal monologues to them, all wishing to have a normal night with our complete family. But with Maryland here, there seems to be someone at the back of my head telling me to make a move. You know what, Al, I want—“

“Race you back to the ranch, Dad!”

“What—wait, Al! Hey, slow down, kiddo!”

Tears were starting to blur Altair’s vision as he rode around the plantation. No, the plan wasn’t going to work. His twin brother was a liar when he said he had an amazing and genius plan. Everything was starting to burn in flames and Altair had no choice but to watch it fester until only ashes remain. When he reached the stables, he tied the reins to the post with hurried yet precise knots. And Altair ran and ran. Up the slope leading to the manor, past the building where the workers were happily interacting with another until he felt himself bumping into someone. He brushed off a concerned Mikasa shouting at him to slow down. Minutes later, Levi passed by the fretting young woman, the latter asking if Altair was alright. But the onyx-haired boy finally reached the safe confines of their manor, passing by the opened double doors. He started pacing around the living room.

Altair buried his hands in his hair, his accent coming out as he rambled. “This isn’t going the way he expected it to. Bonkers, this is a mess! I’m just a kid and I couldn’t handle everything at once. Now, Mum’s getting married to a person I don’t know and Dad is tying the knot with Cindy—Cassandra—whatever!” He leaned on the back of an armchair, body slumping on the plush cushion. “And I don’t even know Dad as much as he does. How am I supposed to fix this?”

“What are you trying to fix?” Petra suddenly appeared in the armchair. (She was there all along but she figured that by keeping quiet, she will learn more about why Altair acted strangely since he came home.) The redhead stood up, arms crossed on her chest. “Do you want to share something with the class, Al?”

Altair jumped back, placing a hand on top of his pounding heart. “You gave me a fright, Petra.”

Petra leaned back with an expression of disbelief. “What? Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to talk to me about? If you’re scared of your dad finding out your secrets right now, you can always tell me.” Altair remained silent as he stared wide-eyed at the nanny and housekeeper. “Care to explain to me why Captain doesn’t like you anymore when he has been with you since you were a toddler? Or how you can’t open the doors properly? Even your appetite change this morning. I have so many questions, Al, and it all stemmed from when you came home. Do you know something we don’t?”

The boy shrugged. That didn’t seem to alleviate the suspiciousness he carried. “I just changed over the summer, that’s all.”

Petra slowly took a step forward and tilted her head down to meet Altair’s eyes. “I’m starting to think you were raised …” She shook her head to dispel the thought and turned around to make herself busy in the kitchen. “That’s impossible. Never mind. I must be needing sleep from all these theories.”

“I am raised by who, Petra?”

She waved her hand to dismiss the question. “Forget it, Al. I’m not supposed to talk to you about this anyway.”

“Like I’m raised by [Name] [Last Name]? Like I’m the other half of one pair of twins?”

The redhead tensed at the question, her smile frozen in place. She managed to blink herself outside of her stupor, slowly regarding the onyx-haired boy, who was gradually turning into an image of you. Those eyes, though sharing Levi’s stormy irises, were reminiscent of your kind ones — always appearing as soft as they can be despite the intensity of a present glare. Petra was at a loss for words and she had to clear her throat a couple of times to find her voice. “How do you know her full name? How do you know that you have a twin, Al? How do you know about—?”

“About Caelum?” The boy pursed his lips, forcing himself to smile. He dropped the act because there was no use continuing their charade any further. Besides, this is Petra, the most loyal person from what he could observe during a full day in the Ackerman estate. She reminded him of Oluo, the way they stuck to each parent almost every day. His British accent came out when he said the next words, “That’s because I am Caelum.”

If this wasn’t a serious situation, Caelum would’ve laughed at Petra’s reaction.

“Altair?!”

Levi looked around when he stepped foot on the patio. However, he was surprised at the peculiar scenario welcoming him in the living room — it was as if Petra was looking at his son for the first time in years. The redhead had both hands covering her mouth, tears prickling her eyes, and an expression showing disbelief. He rose an eyebrow in incredulity because nobody paid him any attention. With measured footsteps, Levi placed a hand on his son’s shoulders, making the boy jump a few inches in the air.

“Hey, buddy,” his voice was so soft since his boy looked shaken up just as much as Petra, “why did you take off on me like that? I told you I wanted to talk to you about something.” His son looked up at him with wide eyes so Levi expectantly glanced at Petra. The woman was still silent with that constipated look on her face. “Petra, do you need to take a shit? Why are you looking at Al like that?”

Caelum was breathing heavily, eyes pleading with Petra to let him tell Levi the truth.

With a subtle nod, Petra wiped her eyes and turned to Levi, who had his face scrunched in perplexity. “Like what? I’m not looking at him in a special way.” She shrugged but with one look at the bright-eyed boy beside her friend, her voice started to falter. “I’m looking at him like I’ve looked at him for eleven years. Since the day he came home from the hospital, all wrapped up and squirming for contact with his parents.” Petra looked like she could cry any minute. (Levi was staring at her like she had grown a second head. He was ready to give her a day-off.) “Seven pounds, five ounces, 21 inches long. This is how I look at him.”

Caelum felt himself smile as Petra gestured at him.

“Can I hug him?”

Levi blinked and stayed silent for a second. He lifted his hand from his son’s shoulder and stepped back since Petra wrapped the boy in a tight hug. He felt the back of an armchair behind him, leaning against it with a sigh. “Everybody’s so weird.”

As the woman continued hugging Caelum, she exclaimed, “Oh, he’s so beautiful and he’s grown so much.” The boy nuzzled his head on the crook of his nanny’s neck, a large smile painted on his face.

For once in his life, Levi wanted to sleep the day off. Maybe everything might go back to normal.

Petra pulled away from the hug, wiping her eyes with her sleeves. She pointed at Caelum while trying to control her voice from shaking. “I’m going to make you something special to eat. What do you feel like eating? Anything? You know what?” She waved her hand once she reached the entrance of the kitchen. “I’ll just whip up something from everything we’ve got, okay?” With a last nod and an apologetic smile directed at Levi, Petra went to the kitchen whilst wiping her tears, leaving behind the two Ackermans’.

Now that heartfelt moment ended, Levi knew he had to tell his son what’s weighing on his mind for the past years. All it took were eight weeks for him to steel himself in making a choice he won’t come to regret. If only he had done this when you gave him your back, a baby looking like him snug in your arms and reaching out to a father he won’t come to have. If only he had chased you to London, fighting for your love in front of your parents, promising a life filled with enough luxury for your newfound family. If only he had the strength back then, none of this would’ve happened. So Levi gently directed his son to the couches, sitting in front of the boy on the low table. Their gazes matched each other and it looked like Levi was staring at his younger self.

“We have to talk.” The onyx-haired man’s voice was so soft, matching his visage that was contorted in slight wariness and expectation.

Caelum nodded. “Okay. Shoot, Dad.”

Levi nodded back. “I’ve been thinking about this since you were a toddler and this summer was the only time I could focus on debating with myself on it.” He took a deep breath, his heart thundering in his chest, and his cheeks burning. “Al, I want to get back together with your mom.”

The whole world stopped. Caelum stopped breathing for a few seconds. There was a lack of emotions inside him at first, him just staring like an idiot at Levi. Suddenly, he felt like jumping but that would look suspicious so Caelum abruptly stood up in front of his dad, tingles traveling in every fiber of his body.

“Al?” Levi asked, confused at the constipated look on his little boy.

Bright gray eyes stared back at Levi, Caelum’s grin erasing every doubt in his father’s body. “This is perfect, Dad!”

“It is?” The onyx-haired man trailed off before perking up a little, a small grin tugging his mouth upwards. “Yeah, it is. I decided that I will do everything right this time and have our family back again.” He looked down wistfully on the floor, fingers wringing with each other. He murmured under his breath, “I wonder how Caelum’s doing right now. Will he like me? I’m not exactly awarded with the best father of the year title.”

On the other hand, Caelum heard it and he couldn’t help but grin knowingly. He erased that on his face when Levi looked up at him. “So, Dad, what are you going to do about Cindy?”

“What about the publicist?”

Caelum sat back down, leaning forward to enunciate his next words. “Well, it’s quite obvious that she’s so enamored by you.”

Levi scoffed a disdainful laugh. “Why would she? I’m not interested in her in some way. I don’t even like women her age.”

“That’s the thing, Dad. I heard from her yesterday that you’re planning on telling me something. I figured it would involve her since she suggested it. It might be a different thing than what you told me right now.”

“Oh, that. I decided, with the help of Petra and the other workers, that you will be the face of the tea shop. Since I am not too comfortable with the idea of having my pictures posted on every branch, a majority vote prompted you to do the job. But Mikasa suggested that we also do that by putting you in the new label design. It doesn’t have to have your face on it, just your silhouette. I think Isabelle will do that well enough.”

“So,” Caelum prolonged the word, “you’re not engaged to her, right?”

Levi looked ready to barf his lunch. “What? Where the hell did you get that idea?”

A sheepish smile prevented the laugh that was bubbling in Caelum’s chest. “I tend to overthink at times, Dad.”

The silver-eyed man sighed, running his hand through his hair. “You get that from me.”

“I asked you that because yesterday, she told me you proposed to her because you wanted me to have a mother figure. She even told me you dated because you liked her at first sight. She mentioned that you went horseback riding in the sunset like a typical chick flick pairing and there you confessed that you felt lonely because Mom left you. Oh, I mustn’t forget how you reciprocated her feelings under a moonlit night. Hey, Dad, where are you going? Dad?”

“Don’t mind me, Al, I’m killing a bitch this afternoon and it’s best if you stay put while I do that.”

“Dad?!”

Cynthia Maryland is a fucking menace to society.

It has been so long since Levi met a person who just by talking, brain cells are diminishing at every word they utter. The first one who made him feel this way was a genius, however, they were too much for his social battery. They always hung off of him at times during college all because they were your childhood friend, who followed you to America to make you feel like you had someone in a foreign country back then. That was seen as endearing but this time, it’s fucking irritating. Levi didn’t even have to control himself from showing how much he wanted this meeting to be over.

“Miss Maryland, can you please listen to me for one second?” Levi spat out, the stress coming to him in a migraine.

“I am listening, doll, and I guess those plans with Altair didn’t happen because you have me in your office — doors closed and just the two of us,” Cynthia spoke in a sultry voice that didn’t have any effect on the man slumped on his chair. “I will do anything for you, Mr. Ackerman.”

“Thank God for that.”

Cynthia was over the stars at that statement.

“Because I believe it’s time for your job as my shop’s publicist to be terminated. So I suggest getting out of here.”

“What?!” The brunette all but shrieked.

At the commotion, a knock resonated in the room. “Levi, is everything all right in there?” Mikasa asked. “Do you need me to restrain her?”

“No need, Mikasa,” Levi answered, not looking away from the distressed woman squawking in front of him. “Hey, Maryland, what are you whining about? Didn’t you hear what I just said? You’re fired. What are you still doing here?”

“Pray tell, why are you firing me?! You need me!”

Levi rose an eyebrow. “Why would I need you when I have capable people working on the plantation right now? It was a mistake hiring you. Eld was actually the one who wanted to have a publicist for the tea shops and if my secretary said it would be beneficial to the business, I will always say yes. But I guess he hired the wrong person. As for the question of why I fired you, let’s just say, you were spewing things that weren’t even true. And of all people, you said those things to my son. What are you trying to gain from telling him we’re fucking engaged? Money? My last name?”

The brunette remained silent, angry tears dripping on her cheeks.

“Let me tell you this, Miss Maryland, you’re not worth those things. So if you don’t want me to get fucking angry at you, get the fuck out.”

While the whole debacle with Cynthia was happening in Levi’s office, Caelum was in the kitchen rolling a pin over a chunk of dough. The silver-eyed boy was helping Petra with the afternoon snacks, something that the nanny suggested since Caelum looked bored out of his mind, staring into the high ceiling of the living room while lying on the long couch. Only half an hour passed since Levi stormed into his office, demanding Eld to contact ‘that hysterical fucking woman’, and only two batches of apple turnovers were ready for the oven. There were a lot of workers on the plantation, all of them having big appetites, so Caelum and Petra had a lot of work to do.

Caelum just finished his story of meeting Altair for the first time and his shoulders felt so light after spilling everything out.

Petra pensively gave Caelum a wistful glance. “I’m happy that you two found each other.”

The boy looked up at the redhead. An air of earnest gratitude exuded from her, the idea of two twins reuniting was worth being happy about. Petra wasn’t the only one thanking the moon and stars for granting a request, Caelum felt like his world expanded because of that summer camp. “I am happy, too. I got to meet you, Mikasa, and the workers. I want this stay to last longer than a day but Al and I will eventually go back to our rightful homes.”

“Why are you being sad, kiddo? Didn’t Levi tell you that he’s planning on courting your mom again?”

“That’s the thing,” Caelum mumbled. The dough became too thin to wrap around apple fillings at the force he was pressing down on the rolling pin. He sighed, starting over again. “Mum is engaged to someone in London. I can’t even do anything about it.”

Petra hummed casually. “But Altair can.” Beside her, Caelum once again shifted his attention from the dough to her side profile, making her smile. “One thing I know about Al through the years is that he will do everything to make his plan a success. That brother of yours is a stubborn kid but he’s determined to fulfill his goal, which so happens to be what Levi’s planning, too.” She placed the knife on the cutting board, leaving the apples unattended, and faced Caelum with a half-smile. “How about this, you want to make this a success?”

Caelum nodded.

“Then tell your dad who you really are.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “No!” He looked down, cursing himself for raising his voice at Petra. “I mean, he’ll be mad for sure.”

The redhead chuckled before pointing a ladle at Caelum. “That’s where you’re wrong. Levi was always praying every night to have a glimpse of his other son across the sea. Now that you’re here, you’ll be giving him the happiness he always wanted for eleven years. He deserves to hug you, knowing who you are.”

This is how Caelum found himself standing in front of Levi’s bedroom. It was inevitable anyway — his dad finding out his real identity. Letting out a sigh, Caelum twisted the doorknob with clammy hands, opening the door to the image of Levi reading a book on his bed. The boy smiled when Levi looked up at the sound of the door opening.

Levi took off his reading glasses and smiled. “Hey, kiddo, come in.” He lifted his covers as an invitation for the tentative boy. When Caelum got on the bed, Levi placed his book on the nightstand along with his glasses. For a moment, he only looked at his son with soft eyes as Caelum adjusted the duvet to cover his lap. He pulled him close with an arm around the boy’s shoulders, letting Caelum relax against him. “Did you have a nightmare?” Levi felt his son shake his head. “Is something bothering you?” At the silence, Levi looked down on Caelum's onyx hair. He kissed the side of the boy’s head. “I hope you will feel better once we spend the rest of the day tomorrow.”

“I can’t, Dad, I’m sorry.” It was a low murmur that Levi had to crane his head to hear. “I have to go somewhere tomorrow.”

“And where will this somewhere be? Is Mikasa going with you? Or did Petra invite you to go get the groceries?”

The silver-eyed boy squirmed out of Levi’s hold, burying himself in the think blankets.

“Al? Are you feeling unwell? Kiddo?” Levi tried tickling his son’s sides but was only met with muffled laughs. “Al.”

A British accent enveloped the words Caelum uttered next, “That’s where I’m going! I have to go see Altair.”

“And where might Altair be?”

A pause. “In London.” Levi froze. “With his mum, [Name] [Last Name].”

It was as if cold water surrounded Levi, dunking him in a fever dream. It was too good to be true. Of all the surprises he received for the day, this is by far the most responsible for taking away his voice and steady breathing. He couldn’t think properly at the revelation. So this was the reason why Petra looked like she saw the boy for the first time because she did, after eleven years. His heartbeat echoed through his chest, making a duet with his clattering mind. Levi didn’t know what to do. Should he embrace the son he never got to hug in almost twelve years or should he stay quiet and let the night go on, pretending that this was a dream? His eyes started to burn with unshed tears as he carefully lifted the edge of the duvet off the small figure lying beside him. There was no way this was happening. But as he finally got a glimpse of his son staring up at him, eye shape boring some similarities to yours, Levi let out a shaky breath.

“Caelum?”

Caelum sat up. “Yes, Dad?”

Levi’s vision became blurry, arms instantly wrapping around Caelum. He hugged him tightly, worried that this might be a trick of his loneliness, that this was Altair pretending to be his twin to make him happy. But no. He knew Altair like the back of his hand and if he hugged him like this, the little brat would whine at the long physical contact. This was Caelum, hands gentle like yours as they patted his back. He didn’t know he was crying until Caelum rubbed rhythmic circles on his back to calm him down.

“Al and I met at camp and we decided to switch places.” His breath hitched, nuzzling his head on Levi’s chest. “Dad, I’ve dreamt my whole life of finally meeting you. Seeing you waiting at the airport nearly made me cry because you were exactly like Mum’s vague stories. And Al wanted to meet Mum as well so we sort of made the switch impulsively.”

Levi pulled away, a smile present on his face. “Who exactly made this plan?”

“Never in my life would I suggest switching places with my twin. I told Al this is an idiotic plan yet here we are.”

Levi snorted a laugh. “Of course it’s Al’s idea.”

“But Dad …”

“Hmm?” The man waited patiently for his little heaven to speak up.

“I hope you’re not raging at the moment because I love you so much and I just hope that one day, you will love me as me — not as a mirror image of Al.”

Levi pulled Caelum again in a hug, kissing the boy on the crown of his head. “Did you know I was the one who named you?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Since your mom named Altair after a star, I thought it would be best if you were named after the realm the star is situated. You’re my little heaven, Cae, and nothing can change that. I’ve loved you your whole life. Stop being a mopey little brat — I meant that term in the most endearing way possible because your mother was the original one, she was my pain in the ass — and give your dad another hug.”

Caelum felt like he forgot something, choosing this moment to never mention you being engaged to someone and instead chose to let his dad’s warm hugs lull him to sleep.

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