#i just. feel like dreaming is the closest i’m ever going to get to being in the same space as him in a way that is. tangible

[ectoplasmer]

i miss my boyfriend (he’s in a completely different world than me)

[lale-txt]

❥ falling asleep besides you for the first time ↳ w/ Toji, Naoya, Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Higuruma, Sukuna & Choso

a/n: this came over me like a fever dream during another episode of insomnia. some of those drabbles are a little sad, i apologize. it's what you get with all those tragics characters. reader is gn!

word count: 1.4k

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 doesn’t even want to fall asleep; it’s not like he had a good night of rest ever since… well. He tells himself he’s just gonna close his eyes for a bit, stretched out on the couch next to you, his weary head in your lap. There’s still blood on his hands and on the side of his face, he’s gonna get cleaned up in just a bit, he mumbles, but the words come out heavy and drowsy, and your fingers are tangled in his hair now and your voice is this sweet whisper, baby, I love you anyway, and Toji–Toji just gives in. For the first time, sleep doesn’t come over him as a heavy veil, as if he’s drowning; for once it’s something peaceful, something quiet. Something he welcomes. Next to you, you with your fingers woven between his, you who loves even the broken parts of him, you with quiet love and reassurance that you’re still gonna be there when he wakes up again.

𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐀 hasn’t had another warm body next to him under the covers in a long time. He doesn’t realize how much he missed this until your body melts into his, one leg swung over his thighs, your arm sneaking around his waist and your head finding its spot in the crook of his neck. His cheek falls softly against your forehead when he pulls you closer, breathing in the scent of you that’s the closest to home he ever felt, pressing kisses on the crown of your head. It’s not just lust–oh, he wants to devour you, but there’ll be time in the morning–it’s the absence of loneliness and unspoken confessions. Higuruma can tell when he’s falling in love and in this moment he’s wading deep, deeper through his feelings for you, biting his tongue so they don’t spill out all over the pillows and into you. You already know anyway, and when the sun comes up again, you’ll lick them from the cave of his mouth like a prayer.

𝐍𝐀𝐎𝐘𝐀 can’t fall asleep, not on his wedding night, not when your mouth is whispering all those words he’s demanding from you. His cheek is pressed against your palm while he’s pinning you down, almost nuzzling into it like a touch-starved stray, golden eyes lingering on you. Say you’re mine. Again. Say who you belong to. Mine. Mine. All mine. He isn’t aware how pleading he sounds, how raspy his voice gets the more you obey, every time you sigh his name so softly into his open mouth. Naoya doesn’t care if you’re lying, as long as you wear your wedding band on your ring finger for everyone to see. You’re his to keep now, and if he could have it his way, you would be forbidden to leave this bed forever; he wasn’t aware just how much he had craved the presence of another being by his side at night, one who doesn’t leave once he had his share of pleasure. No, you’re his now, and before sleep eventually finds him, he’ll make sure to sink his teeth into you till his name rolls off your tongue like a lullaby. 

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 doesn’t let go of your hand; he’s afraid it’ll go cold if he allows himself to let his guard down even for one second. This isn’t how he had imagined spending the first night with you. Not under the fluorescent lights of the infirmary, not with your body wrapped in gauze and machinery monitoring your heart rate. It dawns on him as he’s sitting on your bedside–how attached he’s gotten to you, then: How he had almost lost you today. He squeezes your hand tighter and sighs, his weary head sinking down on the mattress. Your fingers twitch and find their way into his hair, combing through it weakly. As if they say, it’s okay, I’m alive, you’re not to blame. So please don’t leave and take all your love with you. And Nanami takes your hand once again and kisses your fingertips, pressing promises against your skin, promises of a future where you and him can just be, one where he can finally put all of these feelings down, down in your open and gentle palms for you to keep.

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 is clingy throughout the day, but even more so at night. He doesn’t like the eerie quiet that settles in once the sun has sunken, not when he can listen to your steady breathing next to him instead, so naturally he feels a rush of joy when you push your futons together for the first time. His heart is beating way too fast to find sleep now, his eyes taking in everything about your sleeping figure, from the way your chest rises and falls to how your nose scrunches slightly for a moment. Choso wants to know what you’re dreaming about, what colors your dreams are, and if he’s ever in them. He wants to engrave himself into your being, wants to keep you wrapped in his arms forever. His kisses feel light against your skin, careful not to wake you but enough to fill his desire. Choso loves you with his entire being, and sleep is merely an obstacle, cutting away from your time spent together–though he must admit, his eyes flutter shut quite easily in your embrace.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 realizes that his idea of ‘sweets in bed’ now has a double meaning, seeing you sprawled out in his sheets with candy wrapping paper clenched between your fist and more of it lying on the floor. Cute, he can’t help but murmur as he lays down next to you on his side, mustering you with an amused smile on his lips. When he told you to knock yourself out on the sweet souvenirs he brought, he didn’t assume you would take it that literally. His thumb brushes over the corner of your mouth, collecting some of the powdered sugar that’s still stuck there, and Gojo could swear he never tasted anything sweeter than this when he brings it to his tongue. He gently replaces the trash you hold onto in your sleep with his fingers, woven between yours, and pulls you close to him, his tall figure embracing you; and for the first time in a long time, Gojo feels a wave of calm wash over him, allowing him to exhale and sink into a dream almost as sweet as you.

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 doesn’t know why he keeps entertaining your antics. Sharing a bed, sleeping together side by side? How utterly foolish, but as to be expected from a mere human; they’ve always been like this, seeking comfort and warmth when they’re the most vulnerable. Of course a predator like Sukuna wouldn’t have to worry about sleeping safe and sound. Yet still; he can’t help but let his gaze linger on you, wrapped up in his embrace, four arms holding you in place on top of him. Everyone else would freeze in fear, but you? You snore quietly without a single worry in the world, knowing you have a king watching over you in your slumber. Sukuna huffs but still brushes a strand of hair out of your face. Maybe he’ll tell Uraume that you’re off the menu, for now. As long as you know your place–in his embrace, wearing his marks with pride, providing a sense of comfort Sukuna had never known before. Fool, he mutters and rests his chin on top of your head, not sure if those words were for him or you. 

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 doesn’t question when you knock on the door of his dorm room, asking for shelter after a particular nightmare. He hasn’t found any sleep yet anyway. When he lifts up the covers for you to slip under, he’s surprised that you don’t even hesitate to do so, wrapping yourself around his body as if it was molded for that only. Geto can tell that you’re trying not to tremble, but the nightmare still lingers. He knows it all too well. His fingers brush through your hair when he pulls you closer to his chest, as if this could prevent you from falling apart–though deep down he’s aware that he might be the one on the verge of breaking. You know it too, don’t you? Geto is tired, oh, so tired. The kind of tired sleep can’t fix, and he can’t help but wonder if this would also be the last time that you’re in his arms, clinging onto someone who is long gone; a version of him that he shed together with his dream of letting himself love you.

[covenofagatha]

Birthday Girl

On your 21st birthday, your friends drag you to a bar to get wasted when you decide it's a good idea to drunk-call Professor Agatha Harkness.

Word count: 3400+

Warnings: smut, fingering, oral, intoxication, mentions of underage drinking, teacher x student (legal)

“One, two, three!” Wanda chants and you and your friends tap your shot glasses on the bar counter and quickly down them. 

You gasp at the burn and they laugh at you. It’s your 21st birthday and your best friends Wanda, Rio, and Natasha had dragged you out to the closest bar to get you wasted. They had all already turned 21 the year before; you were the baby in the group. 

“Fuck, that’s disgusting,” you groan. 

“Another round, please!” Rio motions to the bartender. He sets down four more tequila shots and one is shoved into your hand. 

“Think you can get to 21?” Wanda jokes and the thought of 20 more shots makes you want to gag. 

“I might puke after this one,” you say and your friends laugh. You were never a partier in high school or college, always preferring to curl up on the couch and watch a movie. You’d only had some sips of alcohol a few times, but you had never been drunk. 

“You deserve this!” Nat shouts in your ear. “Harkness has been working you to the bone!” 

You shrug and wave your hand dismissively, suddenly uncomfortable. Agatha Harkness is your History of Witchcraft professor at Westview University. She’s known around campus for being cold to everyone and rarely giving out A’s. She expected nothing short of excellence and would not put up with excuses. Everyone was terrified of her. 

Everyone except for you. 

Something about the older woman captivated you. You were obsessed with meeting her standards, dreaming of the day she would look at you with pride. You poured over your books for her class, rereading every sentence you wrote thrice, just to try to impress her. It had taken your friends days of begging to convince you to come celebrate your birthday with them because you had a paper for Agatha’s class due in a week and you were already worried about it. 

“I don’t know how you’re surviving,” Wanda says. “I had her last semester and got a C in the class. Third highest grade. She’s the worst.” 

“She’s not that bad,” you defend, not quite sure why. Something about Agatha getting so much hate for pushing her students rubs you the wrong way. 

“Yeah she is,” Rio joins in. “I heard that she’s a real witch.”

You roll your eyes. “Can we please stop talking about her? I thought you guys brought me here to get away from school.��� You take the shot that’s still in your hand and it goes down smoother this time. 

“Yes, there we go!” Rio whoops. 

Two more shots later and your head has gone completely fuzzy. You feel as if you are floating on air and everything around you is happening in slow motion. You get off your stool and immediately stumble, Wanda catching you with her arms. 

“I think I’m a little drunk,” you tell her. She laughs like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard. 

“No shit, y/n, you don’t have to yell!” 

You didn’t even realize you had. “We should probably go back to the dorms!” You look around to see Nat chatting with some girl and Rio throwing darts at the board in the corner. 

“Not yet,” Wanda says, picking up her rum and coke. You’re not sure how she’s still drinking after she also did four tequila shots. “I’ll get you some water.” She signals to the bartender and you squeeze your eyes shut, willing your vision to go back to normal. 

When you open them, you see dark hair in the corner. Is that–? You shift so you can get a better look and feel sorely disappointed when you realize the person is not Agatha. Why are you disappointed? The thought echoes in your head for a second, and then is replaced by a sudden urge to see your professor. 

“Drink this,” Wanda orders, pressing a glass of ice water into your hand, but you’re too busy scrolling through your phone. You know she put her number on the syllabus somewhere and you are too far gone to think that this might be a bad idea. 

You feel a thrill run through you when you find it. You read the number over and over, like you’re afraid it’s going to change somehow. 

“I’ll be back,” you slur to Wanda and then step out the side door into the alley. You type the number into your phone and your finger hesitates over the call button. You know you shouldn’t. But fuck it. You press the button and lift the phone to your ear. 

It rings. And then rings again. You’re about to hang up to spare yourself the rejection when the call connects. 

“Hello?” It’s actually her. 

Your breath catches in your throat and you stand up straighter. “Professor Harkness?” 

“Y/n? Is that you?” 

“Yeah.” Shit, this was a bad idea. Even with your head still swimming, you know that. You can’t just hang up though. 

“Why are you calling me at 10:30 on a Saturday night?” 

“Um,” you say, trying to think of something. You’re definitely going to have to drop her class after this. You’ll never be able to face her ever again. “It’s my birthday?” You offer lamely. 

Agatha scoffs. “Happy birthday. Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, no, Professor, I just wanted – we’re at a bar – I thought you were – and just wanted to say hi,” you ramble, knowing you’re not making any sense, and you can almost hear her smirk through the phone. 

“Y/n, are you drunk right now?” Her voice perks up and it sounds like she’s finally interested. 

“No!” you protest. “Well, maybe a little. But I’m 21 now!” 

“What bar are you at?” 

“Jimmy’s.” It’s a local dive bar that is a popular place for Westview students to hang out at. 

“I’ll be there in ten. Wait out front.” There’s a click and then she’s gone. You stare at your phone, dumbfounded. Is Agatha coming to pick you up? Why?

You walk back into the bar and order a Dirty Shirley. The call had sobered you up a bit and if you had already drunk-called your professor, why not get even more hammered. Wanda comes back over to you and giggles when she sees the new drink in your hand. 

“Alright, time to party!” she exclaims. You pick up on the fact that she’s a little drunk as well. You stand up, vision blurring for a second. 

“I actually called an uber,” you lie, even through your hazy mind knowing that your professor coming to pick you up might sound strange to them.

Wanda pouts and then throws her arms around you. “Happy birthday,” she says into your ear and your arms tighten around her. 

“Thank you,” you breathe back. You’re close with Rio and Nat as well, but they don’t have the same bond you and Wanda do. You pull back and then go say goodbye to your other friends. 

The wind outside does very little to sober you up and you shiver from the coldness. You’re wearing a purple crop-top and a black mini-skirt, something Nat had found buried deep in your closet. You watch the time on your phone, heartbeat picking up as it gets closer to ten minutes since Agatha had hung up on you. 

And then right on the dot, a slick black Range Rover pulls into the parking lot, and you immediately know it’s her. The car stops right in front of you, the passenger window rolling down, and your breath catches. 

It’s Professor Harkness, clad in a maroon suit, wavy hair falling over her shoulders. 

“Do you need me to open the door for you, too, princess?” Agatha says, sarcasm dripping over the words, when you haven’t moved. You shake your head, partly to answer and partly to clear the fog. You settle into the seat, not missing the way Agatha’s eyes rake over your skimpily clothed body.

“You didn’t have to come get me,” you mutter, putting real effort into not slurring your words. 

She glances at you and sees you struggling with your seatbelt. She reaches over and you freeze at her close proximity. Her breath is hot against your cheek and her fingers brush your stomach as she takes the seat belt from your hand and buckles it for you. “Thought I would spare the other people you drunk-called,” she says. 

Embarrassment runs through you. “You were the only one,” you say meekly, picking at a scab on your hand. You dare to peek at her, only to find her smirking, one eyebrow quirked. 

“Oh?”

“I shouldn’t have called.” This time, it’s harder to keep your words from running together. “We were talking about you and then I thought I saw you and I just wanted to see you.” You need to stop talking, now. 

Agatha hums. “Did you, now?” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ears as she shifts the car into drive and you watch her fingers. 

“You’re really hot,” you blurt out and then clamp a hand over your mouth. Fuck. 

Instead of pulling over and making you get out, like you thought she would, Agatha simply reaches over and pats your leg. “And you’re really drunk, sweetheart.” 

The pet name makes you swoon inwardly. “Not that drunk,” you say unconvincingly. “I only had one…two…” You trail off, attempting to count the number of drinks on your fingers. Agatha stifles a chuckle. 

“Is this your first time drinking?” She asks, amused. 

“No, but it is my first time drinking this much,” you admit. “My friends dragged me out since it’s my birthday. I was going to work on the essay for your class.” 

“You were going to spend your 21st birthday doing school work?” 

“Your essay’s due in a week. I wanted to make sure I-it was good enough for you.” 

She notices your slip of tongue and her smirk sends heat down low in your stomach. “You’re always good for me. Your essays are some of the best I’ve ever read.” 

Your heart skips a beat and your face flushes. “I have a B in your class.” 

“You have an 88 in my class. That’s the highest I’ve had in years. Can’t make it too easy,” she says with a wink. 

“You could make it just a little easier,” you grumble, the alcohol clearly getting rid of any inhibitions. 

“You keep doing what you’re doing, sweetheart, and it’ll go up, I promise. I’m very impressed with the work you’ve been turning in.”

A hot flash runs through you. “Just wanna be your good girl.” And if it wasn’t clear how you feel about her now, it sure is. But she doesn’t look disgusted or creeped out, only intrigued. 

She finally stops the car and you peer out the window, expecting to see your dorm. You haven’t been paying attention to where she’s been driving at all, and you’re quite surprised to see you’ve arrived at a two-story house in a cute, suburban neighborhood. 

“This isn’t where I live,” you say dumbly. 

“No, it’s not,” she agrees, getting out of the car and walking over to help you. You stumble up the steps to the front door, Agatha’s tight grip on your shoulder keeping you upright. You can feel her fingers playing with the ends of your hair. 

She unlocks the front door just as a wave of nausea hits you. “Oh, god,” you say weakly, holding a hand in front of your mouth. Agatha doesn’t even seem phased; she leads you to a bathroom in the hall and leaves, only to re-enter with a glass of water moments later. You gulp it down and feel better. 

“You okay?” she asks softly, stroking your cheek, eyes tracing up and down your face. You’ve never seen this side of her and you really like it. 

“I think so. Thank you again,” you murmur and you realize that you’ve been staring at her mouth. 

“Anything for my favorite student.” 

And then, because you’re apparently determined to fuck everything up even more, you lean in and press your lips to hers. Agatha stands still for a second before you pull back, horrified with yourself. 

“Professor, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to–” 

She draws you back in for a longer kiss this time, tongue licking into your mouth. You let out a long moan and she breaks away. 

“You’re drunk,” she tells you again.

You clasp the lapels of her blazer. “I know. But I want you.” 

She softly pries your fingers off her suit and smiles. “You need to sleep. And then we can talk about this in the morning.” 

You pout and she runs her thumb over your bottom lip, slightly pulling it down. You suck her finger into your mouth, delighting in the way her eyes darken. She steps back.

“Let’s go. You can sleep in the guest room. I’ll find you some pajamas and toiletries.” Her hand on the small of your back guides you up the stairs and to the room on the right. The guest room is simple but cozy and you immediately go to the bed and flop onto it. “Don’t fall asleep yet,” Agatha warns and then leaves the room. 

She comes back in a few minutes, an old shirt and sweatpants in one hand and a toothbrush and toothpaste in the other. She pats your legs in an effort to get you up but you can barely move, suddenly weighed down by all the drinks. 

“Come on, hon,” Agatha says and helps you stand up. You don’t move as she works to take your shirt and skirt off, your cheeks and upper chest flushing red. You try to cover yourself and she smirks. 

“M’sorry,” you mumble. 

“Don’t be. I’m enjoying the view.” You stare at her longingly, silently begging her to fuck you right there and then, but she helps you step into the sweatpants and pull the shirt over your head. She watches you brush your teeth and moves the covers so you can get into bed. “Do you need anything else?” 

Your hand grabs hers. “Just you,” you try again hopefully, but she chuckles and wrenches free of your grip. 

“Good night, birthday girl,” she whispers and leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. And then she turns off the lights and leaves the room.

You fall asleep immediately. 

***

Sunlight streams through the blinds, waking you up. It takes you a minute to get your bearings and then the events of last night come back to you. 

The bar. Four shots of tequila and half a Dirty Shirley. Calling Agatha and her coming to pick you up and taking you to her house. Kissing her in the downstairs bathroom. Shit. 

You groan, head pounding. You see a container of Advil and a glass of water on the nightstand beside you. You take two Advil and drain the glass, heart warming at the thought of Agatha taking such good care of you. 

And then you remember that your relationship with her will forever be complicated by your actions. 

You solemnly brush your teeth and pull back on the clothes you wore to the bar last night, neatly folding Agatha’s pajamas and placing them on the bed. You hope she hasn’t woken up yet so you can sneak out without her having to tell you how inappropriate you behaved last night. 

No such luck. The second you get downstairs, Agatha perks up from where she’s typing on her laptop on the couch.

“Good morning, darling,” she purrs, shutting her computer. You gulp, taking her outfit in. She’s wearing a robe that ends mid-thigh and the neckline drops low. 

“Hey,” you say casually, trying to hide how much you’re internally freaking out. 

“Do you want something for breakfast? I can cook you something.” She stands up and walks to the kitchen and you follow like a lost puppy. You involuntarily lick your lips at the way her hips are swaying. 

“What are my options?” Your voice is raspy, still feeling hungover. She glances back at you and her eyes dart up and down your body. 

“I can make eggs. Bacon. I think I have pancake mix in the pantry. What would you like?” 

You’re a little confused that she hasn’t scolded you yet. And then you remember something else. She kissed you. 

You swallow hard. Whatever else you may have done last night that you can’t remember, she doesn’t hate you for it. She might even want you back. 

“Are you on the menu?” It comes out before you can even realize what you’re saying. 

Agatha freezes and turns around. You shift your weight nervously, but then you see her pupils blown out. Her eyes are so dark you can barely see any blue. “What?” She asks carefully.

“You kissed me last night,” you say, a little breathless. You have absolutely no idea where this confidence is coming from. “You wouldn’t do anything else cause I was drunk. But I’m not drunk now.” 

She steps toward you and roughly grasps your hair. She tilts your head back, exposing your neck just a tad. “No, you’re not.” She regards you for a second. “You know you’re not going to get extra credit for trying to sleep with your professor.” 

You laugh. “That’s not why I’m doing this.” 

She smirks. “Good.” And then she licks a hot stripe up your neck and bites down, sucking a mark on your skin. You gasp loudly and tangle your hands into her hair. 

“Professor,” you moan and you drag her into a filthy kiss. She backs you up until your thighs hit the table so she lifts you up onto it. Your legs wrap around her to pull her closer. Agatha pushes up your crop-top and kneads your breast, thumb stroking your nipple, never once breaking your kiss.

Her hand creeps under your skirt and cups your mound over your underwear. Your hips jump on their own at the stimulation. 

“Please,” you beg. Her lips curl into a smile. 

“What do you want?” Her fingers have pushed your underwear to the side and have started lazily stroking through your folds, spreading your wetness. 

“You,” is all you can say before she sinks a finger into your hole. 

“Like this?” She asks innocently, thrusting hard. 

“Yes,” you pant, quickly untying her robe so you can touch her. She’s completely naked underneath and you lean down so you can take a nipple into your mouth. 

“That’s perfect, baby,” she sighs, setting a relentless pace with her fingers after she slips another one in you. “Is this what you hoped would happen when you called me last night?”

“I’ve been hoping for this since the first day of the semester,” you answer, and she falters for a second, thrown off by your honesty. 

She pulls out of you and panic runs through you, terrified that you said the wrong thing. But she just pushes you down so your back is resting on the table and she pulls out one of the chairs from the table. 

“What are you–” Before you can finish your sentence, she leans forward and sucks your clit into her mouth. Your back arches off the table, hands rushing down to hold her in place. “Fuck, Professor!” 

She devours your pussy like she’s a starving woman, pulling all sorts of loud noises from you. 

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum,” you chant, hips grinding on her face, trying to get the last bit of stimulation you need to send you over the edge. She knows what you need and presses her fingers inside you, curling them just right and gives your clit a hard last lick. You cum harder than you ever have before, her name on your lips like a prayer. She helps you ride through the aftershocks and then trails kisses up your body until she can kiss your mouth. 

“How was that?” she asks after you pull away to catch your breath. 

“That was probably the best birthday present I’ve ever gotten,” you say, which cracks both of you up. “But I’m not finished.” 

Her eyebrow quirks up and she smirks. “Oh?” You stand up, putting your hands on her hips and flipping her around so she’s leaning against the table. 

You sink to your knees in front of you, not even bothering with a chair. You slowly push her robe up so it bunches at her waist. “Can I return the favor?” 

A glint appears in her eye and she fists one of her hands in your hair preemptively. “I’d like nothing more.” 

[luckykiwiii101]

SLEEPING MONSTROSITY

| | IF THIS DOESN’T WAKE YOU UP, NOTHING WILL | |

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

ཐི you might just live this life forever…ouch ཋྀ

And for you extra failure desensitised east siders -> CLICK ME!

Hey Upper East Siders.

Lately i’ve been thinking about how big of failure you are. And how you keep coming up with more stupid questions to ask bloggers because you can’t accept that life is just easy. I’d call you sleeping beauty, but unlike you, she actually woke up.

I want you to ask yourself how it feels knowing that even though you have all the power, you still don’t have the will to save yourself. Yet you think it’s all going to be okay. You still think you’re going to eventually manifest your dream life, and that this nightmare will come to an end.

Pardon my harsh words but that’s pathetic. Why? Because you told yourself the same thing months ago, and look where you are. You haven’t gotten anywhere. You may understand the law better but you haven’t done anything with it. And knowledge is useless when it’s held by…well, you. A lazy, hopeless, pathetic dreamer.

What actually makes you think that you’re going to be living your dream life by the time it hits 2027. You’re just staying still, and you’re going to continue to. You’re not on an escalator, you’re on a treadmill. Getting absolutely nowhere.

And as i’ve said before, leave those Pinterest boards on Pinterest. I can’t imagine how painful it must be to doom fully stare at something you know you’ll never give yourself. And save your dreams for nap time because that’s the closest you’ll ever get to seeing them.

The amount of people that have left this app, without their dream lives…and you’re just going to end up being another one of them. Another day you take to procrastinate turns into a week, then into a month, 6 months, a year, two years, five years…twenty.

“I’ll persist later!!!” Yes. Exactly. You’ll persist “later.” Later as in, next week? next month? next year? Seconds turn into minutes, minutes turn into hours, hours turn into days, days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months, months turn in to years, and years turn into decades, and decades turn into small little segments of your tragic little life, spent doing what? Trying? Procrastinating? Sulking? Or living the life of your dreams? Call it Russian roulette, but YOU’RE the one holding the gun to your head. Nowhere to run.

“I’ll try to enter the void state again tonight.” Yes. Exactly. You’ll TRY again. And you’ll try again the night after that, and the night after that, and the night after that. and so on…and so on…

But you know what’s the most shocking of all? The fact that you actually believe that everything is going to be okay. “I know i’ll win in the end.” Are you sure? Because you don’t win by staying the same. And that’s all you’ve been doing since forever.

You’re going to wake up tomorrow and make the same decision you’ve been making all your life. You’re going to deliberately and willingly choose to be someone you don’t want to be. As usual. Because that’s what’s comfortable to you. What can I say. You’re only human. And that’s all you’ll ever be.

But for someone like Blair Waldorf, failure is the end of the world. Because she’s uncomfortable with something she isn’t used to experiencing. But it’s only if she gets used to it, that she gets comfortable, and starts to let it in. And take over her. Sound familiar? Because it’s exactly what you’ve been doing to yourself. You’re so desensitised to failure that you read wake up calls in your sleep. Shrug them off, and move on. As if the words on this screen aren’t literally your reality.

If this doesn’t make your heart sink, i’m not sure what will. For some, the pain of knowing this might be too intense to ignore, for most of you, you’ll feel nothing. Your desensitisation to failure will be the death of you. What have you done to yourself…

Ouch!

- gossip girl

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GIRL | XOXO | GOSSIP GRL

[joeshiestyslover]

i miss you, i’m sorry- m. sturniolo

pairing: situationship!matt sturniolo x reader

summary: both you and matt have been miserable for the last week. matt (with the help of nick), realizes he made a mistake and is desperate to win you back.

warnings: language, angst, fluff, nick is a g

masterlist

lowercase intended

a/n: part two of i know it won’t work is finally here!! enjoy ��

empty. that’s how you’ve been feeling for the past week. you’ve lost all the motivation you once had. you can barely even get out of bed to take a shower or eat. you feel like complete shit.

you know that ending things with matt was the right thing to do, but why does it feel so wrong? matt has been texting and calling for the past few days, but you haven’t responded, knowing you have to stay strong and not run back to him.

the moment you met matt, you truly believed he was the one. you began to imagine the rest of your life with him, not being able to fathom him not being in it. you never thought, even in your wildest dreams, your relationship with matt would have ended the way it did. you love matt, more than anything in the world, but you can’t put yourself in that position again. matt doesn’t love you the way you love him, and you have to find a way to live with that.

you’re watching modern family in your bedroom when your phone rings next to you. you pick up the phone and see that it’s nick. you don’t want to let what happened with matt affect your relationship with chris and nick, but it’s so hard when they constantly remind you of him. nevertheless, you answer the call with a “hello?” “y/n! hey how are you doing?” nick was always the triplet you were closest with, even while you were with matt. he always checked up on you. “i’m fine.” you answer, but he doesn’t believe it. “you don’t have to lie to me babe. how are you really?” you can feel your eyes start to water. “i’m not okay nick.” you sniffle. “why doesn’t matt want me? i was so sure he did.” you can almost hear nick frown over the phone. “he’s a fucking idiot, y/n. he’s too dumb to see what’s right in front of him. what happened wasn’t your fault i promise.” he assures you. “i just really wanted it to work out.” you wipe your eyes to get rid of the tears, but they continue to fall. “i know hon, but you’ll be okay. you’re the strongest person i know. you’ll get through this.” you nod even though he can’t see you. “yeah you’re right.” “i always am.” you laugh a little at nick’s words. “if you ever need anything, you know you can call me right?” he asks. “yeah i know. thank you nick. for everything.” you respond. “of course y/n. i’ll call you later. i love you.” “i love you too nick.” you say before hanging up.

nick set his phone down on the couch before standing up and walking into matt’s room. he opens the door to see matt lying in bed, just staring at his phone. nick walks towards him and he can see matt looking at pictures of you and him. “matt.” nick begins. matt’s head shoots up before quickly shutting off his phone. “jesus can you knock?” matt snaps at him. “you’re such a dumbass, you know that right?” nick tells him. “what the hell is that supposed to mean?” matt questions. “i can’t believe you were the one that let her go, yet here you are sulking. you have no right to be sad. you fucked everything up with y/n!” nick began to raise his voice. matt doesn’t say anything and just looks down at his lap. “matt? hello? are you listening to me?” nick snaps his fingers to get his attention. “you don’t think i know that i fucked up?!” matt stands up from his bed. “i regret letting her walk out! i regret telling her that i didn’t want to be with her! i regret everything i said to her that day because none of it was true! i love her nick!” matt yells. nick just stands there, shocked at his confession. matt then sighs and sits back down, holding his head in his hands. “i miss her so much, man.” nick walks over and sits down next to him. “then go tell her that. don’t let her go until you let her know how you really feel because that girl is heartbroken because she thinks you don’t love her back.” matt looks up at him. “but what if she doesn’t want me back?” nick stares at matt with sympathy in his eyes. “trust me she will, and even if she doesn’t, at least you’ll know.” matt nods. “you’re right. i’m gonna go over there.” he stands up to change his clothes and grab his keys.

matt walks out the door and into his car. before matt goes to your apartment, he stops at the grocery store to get you your favorite flowers and candy. he pulls into your apartment complex and grabs the flowers and candy before running towards your apartment. once he arrives at your doorstep, he take a deep, shaky breath and knocks.

you’re in your kitchen making something to eat when you hear a knock at your door. you raise an eyebrow before walking over to open it. once you do, you see matt standing in front of you, holding your favorite flowers and candy. you immediately freeze, unsure of what to do or say. “y/n,” matt begins, “can i come in?” you stand to the side, letting matt inside. “umm these are for you.” he hands you the flowers and candy, and you walk over to your kitchen to set them on the counter. “what are you doing here, matt?” you ask in a somewhat cold tone. “i want to apologize for everything i said. i promise i meant none of it.” you just stare at him, saying nothing. “look, i know you probably don’t believe me. i wouldn’t either, but i do mean it when i say i really do want you. i was just scared. relationships honestly terrify me, and i guess i didn’t want to get hurt.” you sigh. “so you chose to hurt me instead?” “y/n, i promise that wasn’t my intention. you put me on the spot and i panicked. i know that we should have talked about it, but i decided to be an asshole and i am so, so sorry baby. i regret every cruel word that i said to you. just please-let me make this right.” matt begs. you think for a few seconds, still unsure if he actually means what he’s saying. “i don’t know matt. what you said hurt me. you hurt me. i trusted you and you threw that away. how can i be sure that you mean what you say? how can i trust you again?” you want to believe him so bad, but you can’t give into him just yet. “i promise i’m gonna do better. i’m gonna treat you the way you deserve. i’ll work every day to be the perfect boyfriend for you because i love you.” your eyes widen in shock. “you what?” you question him, thinking you heard him wrong. matt takes a step towards you. “i love you y/n. i love you so much it hurts. every time i look at you, i feel something i’ve never felt for anyone before.” he puts his hand on your cheeks, “i only want you, now and for the rest of my life. please, please give me this chance.” when he looks into your eyes, you can’t help but melt into his touch. your face softens. “oh matt,” you place your hands on his wrists, “i love you too.” he grins at your words. “really?” you roll your eyes playfully. “of course i do you fucking idiot.” you smile at him. “i’m just making sure because i-” he’s cut off by you pressing your lips against his. matt’s caught off guard, but melts into the kiss. his hands travel down to your waist and squeeze your hips lightly.

you pull away from the kiss and press your forehead against his. you let out a sigh of content. “what is it baby?” matt asks you. you smile and shake your head lightly, “i’m just happy.” he smiles as well before bringing his forehead away from yours. “y/n,” he begins, and you give him a look, silently telling him to go on, “can i be your boyfriend?” he asks, somewhat nervously. you grin, “yes matt you can be my boyfriend.” you look at him with love and affection in your eyes. matt lets out a breath, “okay good because that would have been really embarrassing if you said no.” “shut up.” you tell him before leaning up and kissing him once again, both of you smiling into the kiss.

[stchttp00]

Closest To You

Leah Williamson x Reader

Summary: Leah realizes how much she's in love with you.

Word Count: 562

“come back now please baby!” leah can hear you chuckle from the bathroom after her whining. she isn’t really sure why she feels so needy all of a sudden. you’ve both been intimate for hours now, but she still feels like she can’t get close enough. sometimes she feels like she wants to melt into you, it makes her feel a bit silly thinking like that. 

“i'm coming leah, i need to clean you up a bit before we go to sleep, we might wanna change sheets as we-” 

“no, no, there’s no need for that now. tomorrow.” you smile at her reluctance and leah just stares at your face, despite your whole body being on display. she’s not sure she’s ever felt like this before. 

she flinches a bit when you press the cold cloth against her inner thigh, she can hear you mumble a small ‘sorry’, but leah can still see a small grin on your face as you focus on cleaning her. 

leah sighs when she gets used to the feeling of you rubbing the small cold cloth against her inner thighs. she relaxes, but she always does that when you touch nowadays. 

“do you feel alright baby?” you ask her and leah feels warm again all of a sudden, the sweat that’s dried all over her body now feels like its evaporating. she shuts her eyes tiredly even though all she wants is to keep looking at you. 

“yeah, i’m just sore.” leah can feel your smile grow at her admission even though her eyes are shut, it makes her involuntary blush. 

“why’s that then?” leah opens her eyes and smacks at your hand, she flushes deeper, turning her head in embarrassment at your silly question. but she can’t help the sleepy grin that forms on her face. 

“you know why.” she says quietly, you take leah’s face in your hands and turn it back to make her look at you. leah just stares at you like she's in a dream, you just smile and peck her lips. “ i do know, it’s a secret only between us.”

when leah sees you turn to grab some clothes for you both she protests with a whine. she wants you both to be naked, because that’s the closest she can get to you. “baby, no clothes. please.” 

“alright, i’m not saying no to that.”  leah sees you just plummet into bed and it makes her giggle, she’s so giddy when you're around. everything you do makes her feel so dizzy. 

and when she feels you pull her into you, your naked bodies pressed together. your hand automatically landing in her hair, scratching her head. she realizes that she’s so in love with you. 

it’s hard to understand how she hasn’t come to that conclusion earlier. but the way you're breathing above her, the way the only thing she can smell is you, your heartbeat against her ear. everything just feels right. 

“i love you.” she just says it, because everything just feels so good, so warm. just so perfect. she feels you shift, your hand lifts from her head. suddenly you're grabbing her whole head and you pull her upwards making her look at you. you look so beautiful is all leah can think about. 

“i love you too, leah.” 

leah has never slept so well in someone else’s arms before.

[harrywavycurly]

I liked the new killer!H update! I love how protective he is but we clearly don’t like him threatening people so I’m wondering if we’ve ever seen him actually get into a fight before? 😅

Hiii babes!! So I just went ahead and wrote something for this because yes, you’ve for sure seen him fight before(if you can even call this a fight lol) I hope you enjoy!!💖

-find all things Killer!Harry here✨

CW: Minor violence (broken wrist and black eye), threats of violence, language and mentions of drinking/being drunk, a quick reminder Harry is a killer in this series but it’s not mentioned at all in this!

A/N: Enjoy this little blurb that shows you and Harry out at a bar back when you are just dating and you see how far Harry is ready to go to keep you safe, this gets very dramatic very quickly but also has fluff and also no I do not condone violence, keep your hands and feet to yourself! ✨

“Baby.” Harry gives your hip a little squeeze as he leans down so his lips are next to your ear, you just let out a hum as you bring your drink up to your lips to take a sip. “M’gonna go get another drink I’ll be right back.” He smiles when you lean back into him, the two of you tucked in the corner of the local bar near the pool tables. He has his back resting against the wall with one hand on your hip while his other arm is resting on top of a high top table with a now empty glass in his hand, you stand in front of him using both hands to hold your glass as you watch Mitch play some random man in a game of pool.

“M’kay” You half mumble with a smile on your face as you feel his hand on your hip slide down to your lower back and gently push you to take a few steps forward allowing him to move from behind you.

“Don’t wonder off please.” He gives you a look that if you weren’t a few drinks in would’ve made you weak in the knees because it’s a mixture of seriousness but also a hint of something else that you can’t really put your finger on but you know you like it.

“Won’t move d’nt worry.” You reassure him but he just shakes his head and lets out a chuckle at how your words come out a little jumbled. You watch as he reaches over and pushes some of your hair back behind your ear before he leans in and places a kiss to your cheek.

“Oh I always worry about you love.” He casually admits making your cheeks get warm, still not used to the way Harry has no issue with telling you things like that at any moment even in the middle of a semi crowded bar on a Saturday night. “I’ll be right back.” He gives you a smile before he grabs his empty glass off the table and turns to head towards the bar.

You have a smile on your face as you watch him walk away and you can’t help but giggle when he looks at you over his shoulder and shoots you a playful wink when he catches you already staring at him. You find it hard to believe that the tall British tattooed man that currently is leaning his forearms on the bar as he talks to the bartender who happens to be his friend Jeff, is your boyfriend and has held that title for almost eight months. He’s different from anyone you’ve dated from the way he dresses in mostly black but every now and again he will venture out and wear a funky patterned shirt with his nicely tailored trousers, to the way he carries himself with such confidence that he sometimes can come off a bit intimidating, but the big thing that sets him apart from just about anyone else is how he always just seems to know what you need without you having to ask and when you casually brought it up to him he just shrugged it off and said something like “I just pay attention love, that’s all” and you nearly cried.

“Hey there.” You jump as a deep voice brings you out of your thoughts about your dream boat of a boyfriend, and you feel yourself tense up when you turn and see a man standing a little too close. “I’m Jake.” You just nod and give him a tight lipped smile as you try to look around him for Mitch who would be the closest person that would be able to help get you out of the current situation, but Jake takes a step closer and rests his hand on the table next to where you’re standing so he can lean in and whisper in your ear. “You look too pretty to be here all alone.”

“Uhm th-thank you but m’not alone.” You inform him making him raise an eyebrow as he looks around before looking back at you with a smirk.

“Sure looks like it to me.” You feel your eyes go wide as you watch Jake’s hand that’s not resting on the table reach for your cheek as if he was going to brush some hair out of your face but before he can you see a very familiar ring clad hand grab his wrist.

“What the fu-” Before what feels like you can even blink you hear a harsh snap followed by a loud squeal and then Jake is on his knees trying to get his wrist free from Harry’s grasp.

“Did my girlfriend tell you she wanted your grubby hand on her?” Harry asks with a cold and hard tone, all Jake can do is shake his head but that isn’t good enough for Harry so he bends his hand back so the top of Jake’s hand is being pushed towards his forearm. “Sorry I can’t hear you mate what was that?” He asks over the whine like sound that slips out of Jake’s mouth due to the pain he’s currently in.

“N-no no! No she didn’t!” Jake shouts making Harry just make a disapproving tisking noise as he shakes his head.

“Figured as much.” With that you hear Jake let out a sigh of relief as Harry lets go of his wrist but only so he can use that hand to deliver a solid punch to the side of his face making Jake fall onto his back. “If I see you anywhere near my girl again a broken wrist and a black eye will be the least of your worries.” He threatens as he watches Jake roll over onto his stomach with a groan.

You don’t know how long the whole ordeal took but it felt like only a few seconds before you have a hand on your forearm leading you away from the man still trying to recover from the damage done to his wrist and the punch to his face. Harry is quick to take your drink out of your hands and place it on a table near the back of the bar next to a bottle of water you didn’t even notice was in his other hand the whole time he was dealing with Jake. You don’t know why but that makes your bottom lip start to tremble and your eyes to get watery. Harry immediately sees your face and assumes your emotions are due to the shock of just seeing something violent happen right in front of you.

“Oh sweetheart I’m sorry.” Harry gently cups your face in his hands as he rests his forehead against yours and lets out a deep sigh. “I’m so sorry baby please don’t be upset.” His voice is soft as he pulls away so he can place a kiss to your forehead.

“You got-” you motion towards the table with your glass and the water bottle on it making Harry raise an eyebrow as he looks from the water bottle and back to you. “me a water.” You mumble with a sniffle as you feel a few tears slips past your waterline, Harry just gives you a warm smile as his thumbs swipe away the tears as they slide down your cheeks.

“I knew you’d need one.” He explains while leaning down to place kisses to your cheeks, of course he knew you’d need one because he always knows what you need. You reach out and place your hands on his chest feeling the softness of his t shirt on your palms. “Are you upset with me?” You know you should at least be a little upset at how he acted, but for some reason all you can think about is the way it made you feel seeing how he didn’t even hesitate to stop Jake from putting his hands on you and how angry it made him to see him even try. You realize as you stand there with his hands on your face that Harry always makes you feel safe, like when he’s around nothing bad can happen.

“You broke his wrist?” You catch a slight smirk appear on his face but only for a moment before he rubs his lips together as his hands slide down from the sides of your face to your neck and then to your shoulders.

“I did.” He confirms making you just nod as you reach a hand up and brush some of his out of his face. “And I also probably gave him a busted eyebrow to go with his black eye.” He adds with no hint of remorse or regret in his voice.

“Because he tried to touch me?” You feel Harry’s hands begin to gently rub the tops of your shoulders making your muscles begin to relax under his soothing touches.

“I don’t like it when creeps get too close to you.” He begins to explain as he pulls you a little closer to him. “I’m always going to protect you from assholes like that but I am sorry you had to see that. I shouldn’t have acted like that in front of you.” He looks into your eyes and you just give him a small smile as you grip his shirt to pull him towards you for a quick kiss.

“I like that you want to protect me.” Harry smiles at your words as he rests his forehead against yours. “But no more fighting okay?” You ask as you pull away from him so you can give him the sternest look you can muster in your half drunken state.

“Okay baby. No more fighting.” He answers before he leans in and places his lips on yours for a kiss that has you forgetting all about the incident that took place a few minutes ago as Harry moves a hand from your shoulder and places it on the back of your neck so he can slide it up into your hair and pull you closer to him. When he finally pulls away you feel light headed with kiss swollen lips as you rest your head on his chest making him chuckle as he gently runs his hand up and down your arm. “I love you sweetheart.”

“I love you too Harry.”

[meazalykov]

wrong number

bayern munich frauen x reader

1/6, 2/6, 3/6, 4/6, 5/6, 6/6

"who are you, and why do you have my number?"

you've been preparing for this move for what feels like forever.

the idea of leaving your small hometown in virginia to live in munich is both exciting and terrifying. you’ve spent weeks packing your things, saying goodbyes, and trying to mentally prepare yourself for the massive change that’s about to happen. 

sure, you’ve dreamed about studying abroad for a long time. now that it’s here, the reality of it feels overwhelming.

you’re going to be thousands of miles away from home, from everything you’ve ever known. your family is supportive, and your friends have been hyping you up nonstop. yasmeen, your closest friend, has been particularly great about helping you stay grounded, always there to distract you from the “what ifs” when the anxiety gets a little too intense. 

today is one of those days.

the two of you had planned a mall trip—something normal and fun before the whirlwind of final packing and travel arrangements takes over. well, yasmeen says that you need a new closet for munich and you don’t disagree.

it feels good to be doing something so ordinary, especially when you know that soon enough, everything in your life is about to be not-so-ordinary. 

you’ve been to this mall a hundred times with yasmeen, today feels a little more special though. maybe it’s because you’re hyperaware that you won’t have moments like these once you’re in germany.

will you make friends in germany? what if germany turns out horribly? are the people nice? is there xenophobia you might experience due to yourself being american? these thoughts plagued the back of your mind. 

"you’re gonna miss me so much, you know that, right?" yasmeen teases as the two of you walk through the mall’s food court, eyeing the chick-fil-a counter but opting for chipotle instead.

you roll your eyes playfully, nudging her with your elbow with the arm that's carrying your aritzia bag. 

"i’ll miss your constant harassment, that’s for sure."

"constant harassment? i’m literally the best thing that ever happened to you!"

"okay, sure," you laugh. 

honestly, yasmeen has been a huge part of your life for the past few years. she was the first person you clicked with back in high school, and now it feels weird to think about going through the next few years without her by your side. 

you’re trying not to dwell on it, though. you’ll still have facetime, you tell yourself. 

after grabbing and eating your rice bowls, you both head toward the stores. it’s one of those days where everything feels easy—there’s no pressure to buy anything. you did though obviously.

at one point, yasmeen holds up a bright red kit with a smirk.

"ouu a bayern munich kittt. you should totally buy it, you will fit in with the munich community."

you tilt your head, laughing. 

"what is that? i don’t even watch soccer."

"woah! you better once you hit germany– i heard soccer to them is like how the nfl is to americans."

you shake your head but decide to try it on anyway. yasmeen snaps a photo and tells you that you look like you’re about to cheer for some random german soccer team. 

you don’t think much of it and put the jersey back, moving on to the next store.

as the day goes on, you feel a strange mix of contentment and anticipation. it’s nice being here, with your best friend, doing normal things, but there’s a part of you that’s itching to start this next chapter of your life. 

it’s like you’re stuck in this weird limbo between your old life and the new one that’s waiting for you on the other side of the world.

eventually, after several hours of shopping, you realize your phone had died. you don’t even remember when it happened. 

you’ve been so caught up in the moment with yasmeen that you didn’t notice the battery draining.

"ugh, my phone’s dead," you say, glancing at the blank screen.

yasmeen shrugs. 

"mine’s still good. if anything, i can call you an uber."

"nah, i’m good. i’ll just charge it when i get home."

you both grab shoes at birkenstock before say your goodbyes outside the mall. yasmeen gives you an extra tight hug. 

"don’t get caught up with your european friends and forgetting about me, okay?"

"never," you promise.

when you get home, you immediately plug your phone into the charger and head straight to the shower. 

the hot water feels good against your skin, washing away the stress of the day. you’ve got so much on your mind—packing, travel plans, what your life is going to look like in a few weeks—but right now, standing under the stream of water, you feel calm. 

you let your thoughts drift away and focus on the simple rhythm of the water hitting your shoulders.

when you finally get out of the shower, you feel refreshed, like maybe you can tackle all the things on your to-do list without getting overwhelmed.

when you grab your phone and take it off of your charger, you notice something strange. 

it’s blowing up with notifications. you squint at the screen, trying to make sense of what’s happening. 

there’s a new group chat, and it’s filled with numbers you don’t recognize.

confused, you open the messages. the chat is already deep into a conversation about something, but none of it makes sense to you.

+49 176 1234567: pernille you’re AMAZING wtf was that!!!!????? 

+49 171 7654321: arsenals defense during this match had nothing on you or syd holy shit

your brows furrow. arsenal? match? what are they talking about? you know absolutely nothing about this conversation. 

hell, you’re not even sure what country arsenal plays for. the confusion only grows as you scroll up to see more of the conversation.

you: hi?

almost immediately, your message is met with a flood of responses.

+49 171 7654321: giulia! finally! where have you been?

+49 178 1233567: we’ve been trying to reach all day, i know we had no training but are you okay?

your heart skips a beat. giulia? who the hell is giulia? you’ve definitely never gone by that name.

you: uh, i think you’ve got the wrong number. i’m not giulia.

for a moment, the chat goes silent. you stare at your phone, wondering if you should just leave the group.

before you can, a new message pops up.

+49 176 1234567: wait, what?

+49 171 7654321: did we add the wrong number again?

+49 171 11122222: sydney, you’re an idiot. you added the wrong number!

there’s a pause before a new number is added to the group.

+49 152 3334444: you guys finally added me.

you assume this is the real giulia. still, no one seems to be kicking you out of the chat, and before you know it, the conversation picks up again.

+49 176 1234567: giulia, you missed our whole debate about the arsenal match.

+49 171 7654321: yeah, and we were saying bayern needs to keep it up for juventus.

you stare at your phone, more confused than ever. arsenal, bayern… these are clearly soccer teams, but why are they talking to you? you don’t even watch soccer. eventually, you decide to chime in.

you: um?? i have no idea what any of you are talking about. 

this time, the chat explodes with messages.

+49 171 7654321: what?!

+49 176 1234567: how do you not know bayern munich?

+49 175 7778888: do you watch fusball? 

+49 171 1112222: okay, who are you?

+44 177 9900000: ok guys that makes me feel better about this not being a crazy fan.

+49 170 4479173: i agree with georgia 

you explain your situation—that you’re a 21-year-old college student from virginia, and you somehow got added to this group chat by mistake. 

you tell them about your upcoming move to munich for your study abroad program, hoping to clear up the confusion.

+49 152 3334444: wait… you’re moving to munich? like… munich, germany?

+49 171 7654321: that’s insane omg we all live in munich.

+44 171 9900000: wtffff 

+49 176 1234567: this is such a weird coincidence.

you blink at your screen. this is getting stranger by the second. what are the odds that you’d get added to a random group chat full of people who live in the exact city you’re about to move to?

+49 171 1112222: okay, but how do we know you’re not some creepy dude pretending to be a girl?

+49 172 4567389: LMAO LENA 

+57 170 9193831: wait… 

you roll your eyes at the suspicion but understand why they might be cautious. so, you send them your instagram handle to prove you’re real. 

you: ew, i am not some old dude. @ y/n.l/n is my insta, just me out for yourselves.

after a few minutes, messages start pouring in again.

+49 152 3334444: yep, she’s legit.

+49 176 1234567: okay, cool. she seems sweet.

+49 171 9718193: guys laura would love her photography skills

you: who’s laura

+49 171 9900000: someone from the german national team. she plays in frankfurt

+44 177 9900000: this is so cool idky why.. usually i’d be freaked out

a few new followers pop up on your instagram notifications, and you open the app to check. you almost drop your phone when you see that some of the accounts following you are verified. 

*sydneylohmann is now following you*

and another 

*georgiastanway is now following you* 

*tuvahansen is now following you* 

and more.. 

*leaschuller is now following you* 

*lenaoberdorf is now following you* 

*kathi.ng is now following you* 

*pharder10 is now following you*

*guzman013_ is now following you* 

*sarahzadrazil25 is now following you* 

now it seems like the whole team is catching on.. 

*buehlklara is now following you* 

*magdalenaeriksson26 is now following you* 

*magou_doucoure is now following you* 

*dahmannlinda is now following you* 

it's until you do a quick google search that you realize who they are.

they’re professional soccer players.

you sit there, staring at your phone, completely in shock. you’ve somehow stumbled into a group chat full of actual women’s soccer players. 

trying to play it cool, you decide to treat them like normal people.

after all, you don’t even know anything about soccer, so it’s not like you’re going to fan out over them.

you: so, what are your names? i want to save your numbers because all of the unsaved numbers are overwhelming haha 

they go around introducing themselves, and you quickly type their names into your phone, saving each number under the name they give you.

+49 152 3334444: i’m giulia

+49 171 7654321: sydney

+44 177 9900000: georgia s 

+49 179 7777777: lea 

+57 170 9193831: ana g. there’s two ana’s so i’d add the last name letter to tell the difference 💜

it’s surreal, somehow you find yourself chatting with them like they’re any other group of girls you’d meet in a random group chat. 

they even start to warm up to you after a few days, especially after you tell them more about your move to munich. 

a few of them offer to show you around the city once you get there.

georgia: honestly, munich’s great. you’re going to love it.

sydney: we can help you find all the best spots.

lena: i can definitely ☺️

lea: lena you just moved here from wolfsburg.. 

lena: lea shushhhh 🙄

pernille: ??? 

you smile at your phone, feeling a little less nervous about the move. it’s strange, but you’re actually starting to look forward to meeting these girls in person. 

sure, they’re professional soccer players, but they’re also just… normal people. and they seem to like you.

as the chat continues, you get the sense that they trust you. maybe it’s because of your instagram or the way you’ve been honest with them from the start, but whatever it is, they don’t seem to mind that you accidentally got added to their group. 

in fact, they seem to enjoy having you around.

klara: you seem chill. i know its been a week since you’ve been added but do you promise to keep our secrets safe? 

lena: ^

you: i promise. i like you guys! 

it’s not every day you accidentally make friends with a group of famous athletes, but somehow, that’s exactly what’s happened. 

as strange as it is, you’re kind of excited about it.

part two here

[mionemymind]

Chapter 4: Finding My Way To You

My Rival Series

Series Summary: The time where Y/n Y/l/n and Wanda Maximoff were academic rivals that fell for each other.

Chapter Summary: Wanda is determined to get Y/n back to Evergreen University, but how will she?

A/n: Apologies for the delay. I struggle a lot with writing filler sometimes until I get moments where I'm like "shit that would be cute to write". Hopefully y'all enjoy. (Gif Credits to @samaraweaving)

Warnings: Rivals to Lovers, Obvious Feelings, Stubborn Reader, Cursing

Word Count: 5.9k

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Summer Break 

“At what point does this obsession with Y/n turn from respect into love?” In their summer home, Wanda layed on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her hands fiddled with the green crystal around her neck, a constant reminder of the girl that clouded her dreams. 

“What makes you think that I’m thinking about her? I could be thinking about school.” Wanda didn’t have to look to know that Pietro was smirking. While he knew very little about what Wanda felt about Y/n, he did know the ruckus she’s causing to get Y/n back. And that was enough to leave a big impression on Pietro. 

“School doesn’t have you paralyzed in your room for three weeks. Not only that, you don’t have any summer courses this year.” Sitting down at the open desk chair, Pietro spun around as he aimlessly looked around Wanda’s room. “And last time I checked, no other person has your eye…well not in the way Y/n does.” 

Wanda grabbed the closest pillow, chucking it at Pietro. She hated how quick he could get under her nerves. It usually wouldn’t bother her, but then again, the topic is never really about Y/n. 

Wanda hardly ever spoke about Y/n at home or to any of her friends. Of course everyone of her college friends knew of Y/n, but they didn’t know. They didn’t know how badly Wanda thought of Y/n during freshman year of college. They didn’t know how much Wanda wanted to be friends with Y/n and that this stupid rivalry was the closest thing she could get. They didn’t know how much Y/n practically encourages her to be better, to be number one. They didn’t know - no one did. 

How could she even tell people? Hey, I have this weird rivalry with Y/n that keeps up every day and night. We’re not even friends though and I may secretly feel something about this. No matter how many times Wanda rehearsed it, talking about Y/n was just as challenging as all her honors classes, maybe even more. 

So while keeping it a secret did hurt, it was better this way. Because in some weird twisted way, Wanda loved that she was the only one that understood Y/n at this level, that no one else could understand Y/n like her, even if they tried. 

Regardless of how selfish it was, Wanda could not bear the idea of someone else challenging Y/n the same way she did. Because no matter how much she denied herself, Wanda’s thoughts revolve around Y/n. And God forbid, the idea of Y/n’s thought revolving around somebody else would kill her. 

‘Does she think about me?’ Wanda sat up, the bitter taste back in her mouth at the thought that maybe Y/n was into other people. ‘I’ve never heard her speak about anybody else before.’ But Wanda was smart. While Y/n may have never spoken directly to Wanda about crushes, she may secretly have one. ‘Oh God, does she have a partner?’

Before Wanda could panic about that, Pietro broke her out of her thoughts. “What are you going to do if Dad doesn’t give Y/n her scholarship back?” Pietro was never the type to get serious around his sister often. While he knew the time and place to fool around, this felt like uncharted territory. 

Of course Wanda had her fair share of partners in the past, a mix of boys and girls. But Y/n was different. Not in the way that Y/n captured Wanda’s mind, but in the way that Y/n was the only one mentioned by their father. No one else was ever worth being spoken by. So what made Y/n so different?

Wanda felt nervous under Pietro’s stare. This was the first time she ever really spoke about Y/n and the feeling in her chest was hard to ignore. The room felt hot, her anxiety was through the roof, and the answer was something she simply could not rush. 

“Would you think I’m overreacting if I said I would transfer?” Finally taking the courage to look at him, Pietro was stunned by Wanda’s answer. He, as well as any Maximoff, knew how important Evergreen University was for the family. Many generations of Maixmoffs have gone to Evergreen University. There is hardly a generation where you can’t pinpoint at least one Maximoff. 

So for Wanda to even entertain the idea of transferring meant the situation was bigger than he could ever imagine. 

“I think that…Y/n means something to you - clearly more than you care to let anyone know.” Rolling over to Wanda, Pietro offered a small smile. “And if her not going to Evergreen University affects you a lot, then I will personally try my best to help.” 

Pietro may not understand Wanda sometimes, but he certainly will always get her back. “Thanks Piet.” 

Getting up from his seat, he couldn’t help but comment, “Nice flannel.” 

Looking down, Wanda rolled her eyes, “You could just use your words and ask for it back.” 

Wanda took the flannel off. With her hand reached out, she tried giving it back to him. Confused by her comment, Pietro slowly grabbed the flannel and held it up. Quickly confirming his thoughts, he gently threw it back to Wanda. 

“That’s too small for me. Bummer that it’s not my size because I do like it.” Racking her brain, Wanda vividly remembered having it on when Pietro dragged her from the library one night. 

‘Was I the only one there?’ The night felt too far away to really remember, but the gut feeling she had couldn’t be ignored. ‘Who else would be there on a Saturday night?’ 

Pushing her thoughts away, Wanda dismissed Pietro, her thoughts still lingering on Y/n. 

“Can you tell me more about Y/n?” The siblings were eating breakfast outside prepared by the cook. Their parents were somewhere in town, enjoying company from school. 

“What do you want to know?” Pushing her plate away, Wanda overlooked the view from the backyard. A vast forest lay before them as well as acres of land, something that has been passed through many generations. 

“What makes her so important to you?” The question almost made Wanda scoff. It almost felt like a form of punishment having to fully confess to the world what she thought of Y/n. But the guilty feeling of denying what she felt about Y/n consumed her more. 

Why did she keep Y/n a secret from everybody? It’s not like Y/n was a bad person…but then again, why would Wanda want to share somebody like Y/n? Why would she share her?

“I…” There were multiple ways she could go about this. Wanda could downplay the whole thing hoping that Pietro would never ask again, but this was her brother. Pietro was a lot of things and stubborn was one of them.

Wanda sighed. Lying was going to get her nowhere, especially since Pietro vowed to help her out. “She drives me like no other.” Subconsciously, her hand goes back to her crystal, the one she rarely takes off. Not being able to see Y/n was torture and knowing next semester was still a major if caused even more pain. “It’s like finally finding the reason the world makes sense. I follow so many rules and orders from Mom and Dad that I hardly feel like I understand why things are the way they are. But with Y/n…” 

Looking at the sky filled with clouds, Wanda couldn’t help but try and feel like she was back at school. ‘Cause maybe she could somewhat feel like she was back with Y/n. 

“She makes me not hate the person Mom and Dad made me into. That being like this was a choice rather than something I was forced to do.” The pressure of being a Maximoff was tough, something only Pietro and some cousins knew. But at a very young age, more pressure was put on Wanda’s shoulders compared to Pietro’s. The two never really understood why but instead were forced to live with it. “She drives me to be better in ways that I would’ve never done on my own.” 

Looking back at Pietro, Wanda saw that he had this blank stare, like he wasn’t quite sure how to react. “She’s important because for the first time in my life…I quite like being smart. I like studying and going to class. I like being number one. I like me.” 

Quickly, her mind thinks back to the tournament and the awful letter written by Dean Holloway, and suddenly being number one was the last thing she wanted for herself. 

“She sounds remarkable.” Pietro finished his food, throwing Wanda a smile. 

Feeling herself blush from her confession, Wanda looked back down at the crystal. “Yeah…she is.” 

Sitting in his office, Eric Maximoff sat staring at the offer letter he had rewritten countless of times, the moment between him and his daughter replayed constantly as he made sure to perfect this offer.

Although he realized just how stubborn his daughter was, the threat that replayed in his mind was like no other. There was no tantrum, no screaming, and no begging. That was unlike any argument in the past. This ultimatum almost terrified him if it weren’t the power he held at Evergreen University. 

So while he may have hated the idea of bringing Y/n back, someone who could easily challenge Wanda’s place, he didn’t dare entertain the idea of her going to a different university. Something that would easily bring shame to the family.

The knock at his door brought him out of his thoughts. “Come in.” Slowly opening the door, Wanda entered timidly, unsure of the reason she was called. 

Beckoning her forward, he slipped the manila envelope towards the edge of the desk. Slowly, she took the envelope and grabbed the letter inside. 

“This will be mailed tomorrow first thing in the morning.” Wanda’s eyes widened at the words she was reading. Her mind reading faster than her eyes can go. 

Y/n Y/l/n,

On the behalf of Evergreen University, we would like to grant you your scholarship back in full. Much deliberation has been made on your behalf as we have realized the mistake that was made to revoke your scholarship. We do hope you take this letter as a sign of apology for this catastrophic mistake. 

Your scholarship will be found posted for your Fall Semester should you return back to Evergreen University. Please respond to this request on your attendance. We certainly hope to see you again. 

Eric Maximoff

President of Evergreen University 

Analyzing Wanda’s reaction, Eric could feel himself relax at the sight of Wanda’s smile. He didn’t have many close moments to his daughter, so this was certainly one that he wished to be on the right side of. 

“I will let you know when my staff receives word of her response.” This was more than what Wanda could have asked for. The feelings inside her could hardly be contained as she realized that her father explicitly wrote this letter and not Dean Holloway.

‘He cares.’ Looking back at Eric, Wanda didn’t want to wait all summer to know of Y/n’s response. Racking her mind, she spoke the first thing that came to mind.

“I want to see her.” Once again, there was that fire in her eyes. Something Eric had never seen before. “Let me be the one to deliver to her.” 

Freshman Year - Fall Semester 

“Hey Y/n!” A brunette sat by Y/n, someone that Wanda hardly remembered. Her overly enthusiastic attitude caught Wanda’s attention but the proximity between them held her focus. “Would you be able to tell me your address back home? Marketing majors are currently needing it to better research the upbring of our students and what possible trends we may be able to assume based on the data.”

Wanda rolled her eyes at the load of bullshit that came out of that girl’s mouth. Why in the hell would a class require that much personal information? Like full on government address? It was a trick. But what pissed Wanda off more was the fact that Y/n was willing to give out her information like this. 

And although Wanda was mad, she couldn’t help but also write down Y/n’s address, in case she were to ever use it in the future. 

Wanda’s hand clenched and unclenched right before the door. Doubt paralyzed her body like never before. Her feet hadn’t moved in five minutes and by now, the sun was making her skin blaze with how long she had been there. 

Wanda Maximoff was petrified. While everything in her life usually stressed her out, something about this was different. Never in her life has something affected her this much. So as she stood right outside the Y/l/n home, she couldn’t help but think of all the what if’s. 

What if Y/n doesn’t want to speak with her? What if she doesn’t even care to open the envelope and continue to go to her home university? What if this whole thing was the most stupid idea on Earth? 

So before she could run away, act like this never happened, she closed her eyes and knocked on the door. 

Waiting on anybody to open up the door was grueling, but as Wanda backed away from the patio, she took a good look at the exterior of the house. With white and gray paneling, the house appeared to be a country style home that was right at the coast. The waves from the beach were crashing so loud, it almost sounded like it was in Y/n’s backyard. 

The drive was almost an hour away from the airport, but thankfully a money hungry cab was willing to take her but double the rate. The last major thing that Wanda noted was just how peaceful the house seemed. It wasn’t a mansion but by no means was the house small. 

There was a disconnected garage near the house as well as the nice front garden. Hardly any neighbors around and by the looks of it, the greenery coming from the forest across the road was a sight to see. 

All of it felt so odd. ‘Did Y/n actually grow up in a place like this?’

And as if the Devil called for her, the door opened wide. Wanda’s name was called by the very person she missed the most.

“Maximoff?” Slowly turning around, Wanda could feel her heart beat out of her chest. The carry-on bag she was holding suddenly felt too heavy and all she could focus on was, ‘Y/n wears glasses?’

They were simple square tortoise shell frames, yet something about them felt so innocent, like a child telling their best friend their first ever crush in life. Feeling herself blush, Wanda cleared her throat, almost forgetting why she was there. 

“Hey.” Nothing more could come out as Wanda continued to look at Y/n, her white shirt and sky blue striped shorts were harder to ignore. The cherry on top was the slightly messy hair. If Wanda could some up this whole moment, it was that Evergreen University robbed her of seeing this Y/n. And by all means, she wanted compensation. “Can I come in?” 

Regardless of how confused Y/n appeared to be, she still let Wanda in her home. The brunette could tell that her rival had a lot of questions yet didn’t want to be rude about it. Before the conversation could continue, the loud sound of heels strutting forward caught their attention. 

“Honey! I didn’t know you had guests.” Out came an older woman in business casual dress. Her face felt youthful but her eyes showed a lot of wisdom in them. Like a fish out of water, Wanda almost felt confused at the immediate hug that she was pulled into. “I’m Maria, Y/n’s Mom. And who must you be?” 

Wanda almost fainted at how quick Maria’s eyes were to analyze her. Hoping she wasn’t too underdressed, Wanda responded with, “I’m Wanda Maximoff, Y/n’s classmate.” 

Maria’s smile slightly faltered as she took a longer look at the girl in front of her. Suddenly, everything made sense to the older woman as she looked back to Y/n, almost trying to confirm if this was the girl. And Y/n hadn’t needed to even say a word, as her mother took the silent look in her eyes as the confirmation she needed.

“Oh dear, it’s finally nice to put a face around a familiar name.” Wanda refused to look at Y/n as she continued to make eye contact with Maria. The newfound knowledge that Y/n actually speaks about her to her parents was more than she could take. “I’m glad you’re finally able to visit us.”

“I hope I’m not intruding.” Maria clicked her tongue and led Wanda deeper into the house where the kitchen was. 

While Maria focused on getting fresh lemonade from the fridge, Wanda gravitated towards the view from the kitchen. The large windows that practically covered a large chunk of the wall showcased the backyard and all of its beauty. 

Correct with her assumptions, the house was exactly on the coast. It overlooked a large part of the ocean as well as the land that curved with it. From what she could tell, there seemed to be a pathway that led down to a dock with two boats anchored to it. 

“Here’s some fresh lemonade. You must be so exhausted from the flight and the drive.” Maria looked over at Y/n with a disapproving look. “You should’ve picked her up. You know better than to let guests drive from there.” 

“Oh no - this was a surprise ma’am. Y/n had no idea I was coming at all.” Maria looked over at the bag that Wanda was still carrying, motion for Y/n to grab it. 

“I’m assuming you’ll be staying here?” Wanda couldn’t tell if she was already over welcoming her stay. Reading Y/n’s expression was hard as her rival grabbed the carry on from her hands.

“Well-”

“Please, it would be an honor to have you here. The closest hotel is more than thirty minutes away unless you’ve rented a closer airbnb?” Wanda remembered the rentals nearby that offered one night stay at their detached suites. Unfortunately, the starting price was $1000.00 each night. Although her family could afford it, it was unreasonable to ask them to pay for such things. “So what do you say?” 

Wanda looked at Maria, her eyes were practically pleading for Wanda to stay but as she looked back at Y/n, she couldn’t understand what was behind those brown eyes. ‘Did she want me to stay?’ 

But before she could overthink, the slight nod Y/n gave made her smile. “I guess I have a hotel to cancel.” 

Maria squealed in delight as she grabbed her phone from the counter. “Don’t worry about that dear. I know the owner and they will be able to cancel for me. Why don’t you go ahead and settle into the guest room beside Y/n’s. How long will you be staying with us?” 

Before she could respond, Y/n finally spoke, “Two weeks. She’s going to be keeping me company while you and father go to New York.” Wanda didn’t know how it was possible but somehow, Maria’s smile grew even bigger. “Let’s go.” 

Giving a small wave towards Maria, Wanda followed behind Y/n, looking at the various walls that were decorated with family pictures. Feeling overwhelmingly alarmed by the lack of reaction from Y/n, Wanda was thinking of ways to explain her attendance. 

Was it better to go with the ‘I really want you to come back to Evergreen University for my sake because I miss you’ or ‘the University made a mistake and wants you back. They simply asked me to deliver it to you’? Regardless, no explanation or lie felt satisfactory. 

“Welcome to your room.” The door was slowly pushed open by the light coming from the backyard touched the hallway. With its warm glow, the sky blue room felt more comforting. As Wanda slowly walked in and marveled at the size of it, Y/n dropped the bag off at the luggage rack beside the dresser. 

Touching the wall the shiplaps, Wanda grew impressed at how clean everything was. “There’s a private bathroom at that door with a connecting closet. Any spare linens and towels you will need are in there. Plus, if you don’t have enough hygienic products, the drawers under the sink should provide enough options for you.” 

Y/n clicked her tongue, thinking of any other rules she needed to inform Wanda. “Since it will be just you and I, you don’t have to worry too much about how you dress. Everything in the house is free for you to tour around besides my parent’s room and my father’s office.” 

Y/n walked to the other side of the room, opening the glass door that pushed out, allowing the whole room to be open to the backyard. “We don’t really have bugs over here so if you want to have a nice breeze, just open the door like this. But at night, just remember to lock it up for security purposes.”

Y/n pulled the door back along its place causing a slight click when everything returned to normal. “I know you must be tired so I’ll let you get situated. In like three hours, I’ll take you out for dinner. Is ramen and sushi fine with you?” 

Wanda blushed at Y/n’s stare. Sure, there were countless times they’ve looked each other in the eye, but something about this felt new. Like they weren’t rivals but simply friends. “Yeah, that’s fine with me.” 

“Perfect. Let me take care of some things before my parents leave for their trip.” Y/n grabbed the door handle.

“Wait - Y/n,” Y/n looked back to Wanda, “thank you.” With a small smile, the brown eyed door closed the door allowing Wanda to finally relax. 

“How am I supposed to tell Mom and Dad that you decided to take an impromptu vacation at Y/n’s? I mean, didn’t you just get Dad to accept her coming back?” Pietro groaned over the phone, feeling unbelievably stressed at the situation his sister put him in. 

“You’ll figure out a way because you owe me. You know I wouldn’t do such a thing like this at all.” Wanda got off the bed as she hung up the wet towel on the hook. She looked up at the clock noticing that she had around thirty minutes left before Y/n would come to get her. 

“That’s what makes me worry. This isn’t like you. Usually you hate spontaneous things, always preferring to know what’s going to happen in the next month with as much detail as possible.” Wanda grabbed the blow dryer under the sink, preparing to end the conversation with Pietro. His opinions echoed loudly in the room as Wanda stood trying to figure out why she hadn’t spoken up to correct Y/n earlier. 

“I don’t know why…but it’s like Y/n brings out a different side of me. It comes with so much uncertainty that it scares me.” Looking over herself in the mirror, Wanda could predict just about everything in her life. To when she’ll probably get married, receive a nobel prize, build her dream house, and start a family, everything was just so calculated. “Like what if I make a fool of myself?”

Pietro was silent for a second, knowing his words would have a deep impact on Wanda. With a sigh, he said, “Wands…I honestly do hope you make a fool of yourself. Because you’ll be one step closer to realizing that the unpredictable part of life is what makes the stress and worries so much more worth it.” 

There was a knock on the other side of the door. Pietro had covered the phone and yelled, “Coming!” 

“Look, I gotta go. I think Mom and Dad are wanting to get dinner outside. I’ll let them know about the change of plans. Just keep me updated, okay?” 

“I will. Bye Piet, I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

“I’m not getting in that thing.” Wanda stood outside the garage, the contraption that Y/n called a car by no means looked safe to even drive. 

“Maximoff, I promise it’s safe. Plus, it’s a small town meaning less likely for crashes and hardly a long driving time.” Y/n leaned up against the driver’s side. The cocky smile on her face made Wanda blush. 

“For God’s sake, it doesn’t have doors.” Wanda pointed out, hoping that Y/n would want to use the car beside it. 

“It’s a Jeep, Maximoff. That’s the whole point.” Y/n hopped in the car and put the key in the ignition. Soon, the roar of the engine and the bright lights came on. Rolling forward, Y/n stopped right beside Wanda. 

With her right arm behind the passenger seat, the messy beach curls in her hair, Wanda could’ve sworn that she was at the wrong place. Because where did the Y/n from Evergreen University go? The one that would stay in the library just as long as she did. The one that was just as focused on academics as she was. 

Because never would she have imagined that this would be the same Y/n. The one that feels like academics is just a side thing in her life. ‘Did our competition rob me of seeing the real you?’ 

“Please don’t make me drag you into this. I’ll even grab my motorcycle helmet-”

“You have a motorcycle?!” There Y/n goes again, with her ever loving cocky smile. Like she knew that Wanda was scared and was enjoying it. And if this is what Y/n looked like with a little bit of confidence, imagine what a lot would do. 

“Look, we can ride that on a different day. Now for the love of God Maximoff, please get in the car and let me take you out to eat.” 

Looking into those brown eyes, Wanda could only think one thing, ‘How could I ever deny her?’

So as much as she reluctantly wanted to get in, she took a deep breath and hopped inside. “If we crash, you owe me your life, Y/l/n.”  

True to Y/n’s word, the town was close. One minute, the curves of the roads were surrounded with a vast forest. The alpine smell constantly surrounded them. Feeling the wind through her hands, Wanda almost missed the second that the coast came back. 

“Maximoff, look.” The sun sprawled on their skin with its last minutes in the sky. It was as if the sun demanded to be looked at with its blend of colors. And as they go back through a row of trees that arched over the road, Wanda couldn’t help but be entranced by it all. 

And at the very last mile of the route, right at the opposite side was the coast. Capturing Wanda's attention, she didn’t dare to focus on how close the car was to the guard rail, only trusting the fact that Y/n would never crash. Instead, Wanda focused on how at this very moment, her and Y/n shared the same view and the same admiration for the role. And that was enterally hers. 

It wasn’t until Y/n pulled into the parking lot of the ramen and sushi place that she realized the ride was over. The coast was still perfectly in view and appeared to be around a 5-10 minute walk. If she wasn’t so hungry, Wanda would have almost asked to ditch the restaurant and just sit at the beach. 

So as they walked inside, the brunette simply hoped that on some other day, they could have that talk on the beach. But for now, the food sounded amazing. 

“Booth for two please.” Wanda stood close behind Y/n as the waitress looked at Wanda with almost a surprised look. 

“Follow me this way, Y/n.” The restaurant was small in size but was filled with a lot of character. On the main side of the restaurant was a large counter that had an up close view of the chef’s making the sushi. Right on the opposite side were small booths that could fit a family of four. However, that was all the space the restaurant had. 

Seated at the back left corner, the waitress walked away to get their complimentary entrees and water. “So, what do you think? I know it’s rather small but I promise, the food is absolutely amazing. My family knows the chef personally and he makes the best everytime.” 

“It seems like your family knows a lot of people. First the local hotel manager and now the head chef of this business.”  Wanda lightly joked as the shrimp tempura and miso soup was placed between them. 

“Are you two ready to order?” Grabbing her pen and pad, the waitress mainly looked at Y/n for approval. Although there was no inkling that the girl was interested in Y/n, the sour thoughts of it made Wanda slightly frown. 

“Hey Chelsea, can we actually get my usual and can you add the tonkotsu ramen?” Chelsea flashed a pretty smile as she collected the menus, knowing it was rather pointless to have even set them out. 

“Sure thing. We’ll have that right up for you.” Y/n smiled back as she focused back on Wanda. “Sorry about that. But yeah, my family is pretty connected with the town. I think how small the population is, everyone's parents had known each other from high school. And I guess it’s the same with me. Majority of the people I grew up with either stay or leave for a bigger city.” 

“What about you? Are you wanting to leave this place?” Y/n thought it over as she finally grabbed her own boul to pour some miso soup. 

“I’ve thought about it. Leave the town for a couple years. See what it’s like out there. But I know myself. I’ll probably end up coming back here.” Blowing on the spoon, Y/n took her first sip, enjoying the rich flavor of it. 

“Coming back to a place like this must be nice. While I do love my home, something about your little part of Earth has honestly got me jealous.” Y/n smirked, enjoying the fact that Wanda loved her hometown already. 

“Life out here feels a bit more simple. Don’t get me wrong though, I do like what Evergreen does bring me.” 

Placing her hand under her chin, Wanda leaned closer, wanting to hear more about Y/n’s thoughts. “What does Evergreen have that this place doesn’t?” 

Was it delusional to think that maybe Y/n would have said ‘you’ at that very moment? Was it so wrong to want that? Because Wanda couldn’t help but feel that way as she waited for Y/n’s answer. And maybe she would have been satisfied hearing anything if it weren’t for another interruption. 

“Here is your food. One sushi platter with a side of edamame for Y/n. And one tonkotsu ramen for you.” Sliding the hot food on the table, Wanda’s appetite suddenly grew large at the ramen in front of her. 

“If you need anything else, please let me know.” Not bothering to wait for the food to slightly cool, Wanda began eating, immediately enjoying Y/n’s choice of ramen.

“I know I should be concerned about how you found me,” with cheeks stuffed with sushi, Y/n covered her mouth as she spoke with her mouth full, “but I really don’t care. You have your ways considering you are a Maximoff.”

Swallowing the food, Y/n wiped her face almost full from all the sushi and ramen they had ordered. “But what I do care about is why you decided to come?” Y/n leaned forward as she stared directly into Wanda’s eyes. “It’s a pretty long flight. Not only that, I know you live around an hour or two from Evergreen. So you coming here was not some mere coincidence.” 

Sometimes Wanda hated how smart Y/n was and in this very moment, she absolutely despised it. If it weren’t for the somewhat dark atmosphere of the restaurant, Wanda was certain that Y/n would see how nervous she was.

Stuffing more noodles in her mouth, Wanda avoided looking at Y/n, unsure of how to bring up the manila envelope sitting in her room. ‘Would she be mad to find out that I didn’t come here originally to hang out?’

Leaning back in her seat, Y/n grabbed the last piece of her sushi. While pointing the food at Wanda, Y/n said, “Well, regardless of that…I do know that I want you to stay…especially since you’ve gone through the trouble of seeing me.” 

Growing up, Wanda hardly grew up with reassurance. Maybe it was because she didn’t really need reassurance. After all, her confidence in her calculated life was what gave her reassurance. So as she stared at the ceiling, unable to get over their conversation at the restaurant, Wanda realized that she craved reassurance. 

To be wanted by Y/n felt overwhelming in so many ways. But as her heart beated in rapid ways, she couldn’t help but keep the confession close to her mind and heart. To forever remember it. Because why did it feel so nice to be wanted? Why did something so casually stated have such an impact on her? 

Getting up from her bed, Wanda’s thoughts drifted to Y/n again, wondering if she over thought about things too. ‘Has she ever replayed moments of us in her head?’ 

Shaking her head, Wanda didn’t dare to go to that territory at this time. Already unable to sleep, she slowly opened the door and walked to the kitchen. Looking through the cabinets, she finally was able to find the glass cups. Taking one, she filled it with tap water as she stared at the ocean and the moon.

However, the glow from the firepit caught her eye. Feeling the need to see it closer, Wanda walked to the door and entered the backyard. The stone steps led to the middle of the backyard where the firepit was placed. But as Wanda purposely stepped on the grass, she couldn’t believe how soft it was. 

Trekking through the grass, Wanda could see Y/n’s outline sitting at one of the chairs. Once she was close enough, she spoke up and said, “Couldn’t sleep?”

Wanda sat at the free chair that was beside Y/n, enjoying the warmth that the firepit had provided. “A little bit. How about you? Missing home already?” 

The ocean was loud at night, but something about the way it was crashing up against the shore felt relaxing, almost lulling her to sleep. “My mind feels…busy. Can’t sleep with too many thoughts running around.” 

“I see…even when the summer is here, your mind stays thinking.” 

‘Yeah, but it hasn’t stopped thinking about you.’ Feeling too vulnerable to admit her own thoughts, Wand focused on the fire infront of her. 

Letting the silence surround them, the breeze from the ocean and the crackle from the fire pit comforted the two as they sat in their own thoughts. The sounds of nature almost made Wanda’s mind grow silent, like this was the medicine it needed. 

But silence could only go on for so long before Wanda grew curious. “I never knew you grew up in a place like this.”

“Well, you never really asked.” Wanda chuckled. This was the Y/n she knew. The one that was always quick witted. 

“Well, with a place like this, you must have grown up doing a water sport.” Wanda twisted her position to lay on her side, hoping to make eye contact with Y/n. 

“I didn’t do sports really growing up. They only offered the typical stuff like soccer and basketball. I was mainly interested in kayaking and water rafting from an early age.” Y/n looked over at Wanda and smiled. It was a nice feeling to just talk to each other without the constant bickering about school. “But in highschool, they offered a sailing team and I decided to join. Ever since then, it’s been a big hobby of mine.”

Pointing over at the boats, Y/n continued, “You see that sail boat right there? That one is mine.” Looking over at the dock, Wanda could easily see the all white sailboat.

“Jeez, she’s really pretty. And almost as huge as your ego.” Y/n scoffed at Wanda’s quick jab, but the smile on her face persisted. “Who taught you all of this though? Did you have a coach growing up?” There was a small twitch in Y/n’s smile that Wanda caught. Almost wanting to apologize, she waited for Y/n to speak. 

“My father taught me everything about the ocean. That’s actually part of what his business is in. So from fishing, boating, sailing, kayaking, he taught me.” There was a slight pause as Y/n looked out at the ocean, almost like she was missing the simpler times. But within a second, the smile was back on her face as she looked back at Wanda. 

“How come you didn’t major in something like this? It seems like it’s your calling compared to your double major of computer engineering and accounting.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders almost in a ‘it’s pretty obvious’ manner. 

“I do like my majors, but don’t ever mention to my father that I’m in accounting. He doesn’t really need to know that.” Wanda zipped her lips and threw the key away causing Y/n’s smile to further widen. “But I guess I wanted to keep this part of my life as a hobby…I see what it does to people when you suddenly turn a passion into a job…and it’s not the best.”

Sitting up from her seat, Y/n sat at the edge facing Wanda. “I want this part of me to be part of the reason that I need a well paying job. So that way I can support all the hobbies that come with loving the ocean. Because there’s one thing I truly love more than anything in the world and it’s being out there.” 

Reaching her hand out, Y/n got up with an excited look on her face. “Let me show you something.” 

Wanda ignored the feeling in her chest as she grabbed Y/n’s hand. She was led down further down the backyard and down the stairs and on to the dock, hand’s never breaking apart. 

Leading the way to her sailboat, Y/n helped Wanda climb up the ladder and onto the deck. “Meet my precious boat Halfway.” 

Wanda smiled in confusion of the name. “Halfway? Why that name?” The name was odd, but just like another secret, Wanda stashed it in her mind for safe keeping. 

“Stay a while and you’ll know. But you said you were unable to sleep, right?” Wanda nodded in agreement causing Y/n to go into the cabin. 

Following her inside, Wanda could barely see what was in the room with how dark it was. She did see Y/n turn on the heater as well as climb on the queen sized bed that was at the end of the room. Popping open the hatch, the light from the moon suddenly beamed into the cabin. 

“Welcome to the best sleep you’ll ever have.” Wanda had a ridiculous look on her face as she waited for Y/n to say this was a joke. But as her rival continued to smile, she knew it was serious. 

“Is this even safe?” Y/n groaned at Wanda’s apprehensiveness and pulled her closer to the bed. 

“We are currently docked so there’s no way for us to be pulled to sea. Plus, even if we were, I know how to get us back home.” Seeing Wanda’s relucantat face caused Y/n to get closer, to better plead her case. “But Maximoff you have to try it. Otherwise, you’ll always think that sleeping on land is the best thing when in fact, it’s not.” 

Wanda thought of multiple assumptions or facts as to why Y/n’s statement was in fact wrong. Getting the ‘best’ sleep was opinionated. Plus, the meer movement of the ocean would probably cause someone to get seasick during their sleep. Not only that, would bugs get in? 

The thoughts in her head spiral, but the more the moon shone into those brown eyes, she knew she couldn’t resist. 

So with a sigh, Wanda asked, “Can this fit even fit the both of us?”

“It can definitely fit the both of us. Plus, I’ll put a pillow in between incase I accidentally get too close at night.” 

Wanda started to blush again at the thought of cuddling Y/n. “If I wake up cranky, I’m blaming you Y/l/n.”

“And if I’m right, you’ll have to go kayaking with me.” Unable to back down from a deal, Wanda smirked, the same way she did back at Evergreen. 

“Deal.” 

Chapter 5

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[pahtoosh]

what's in a name

[image ID: a gif of steve and bucky smiling. /.end ID]

masterlist

18+

wc: 960 words

warnings: drama with a wasp, steve picks you up

a/n: shakespeare says names don't matter but in this case I say they do!!

pairing: stucky x gn!little!reader

summary: the first time you called Bucky "Baba" and Steve "Dada"

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ

It came out by accident. You found yourself dozing off in Bucky’s arms while watching a movie. The whole day, Steve and Bucky had been doting on you, making you feel safe enough to slip into littlespace. It was your first experience with slipping in front of them for a long period. You felt so light. The fuzziness of your mind had you lifting off your toes and into the arms of your protector. 

Steve had been called for a meeting, so it was just you and Bucky cuddling on the couch. 

Bucky shifted a bit to get more comfortable. He wasn’t planning on getting up, but you didn’t know that. You furrowed your brow and held onto him tighter. Your next words tumbled out of your mouth like marbles down a staircase. 

“Baba, don’t go.”

Your words were slurred. Your cheek was smushed against Bucky’s chest and your sleepiness stopped your mouth from properly forming the words. Bucky heard you perfectly, though. 

His heart skipped a beat. His mind raced. He didn’t want to wake you up though, so he just kissed the top of your head and soothed you by rubbing his hand over your back. 

“I’m not going anywhere, baby.” Baba’s not going anywhere.

When you woke up from your nap, you remembered your little slip-up. Your face grew hot with embarrassment. 

“Hey there, sunshine.” Bucky cooed. “Are you waking up?”

You nodded and then slowly removed yourself from his embrace, still clinging to his shirt with one hand. 

“Do you wanna get up?”

You nodded, then shook your head and nodded again. 

“Is something wrong? Did you have a bad dream?”

You shook your head.

“What’s got you all shy?”

“Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, I just wish I knew what was going on so I could help you,” Bucky said as he rubbed your back.

“I- I called you Baba.”

“That’s nothing to be shy about.”

You shook your head, still avoiding eye contact. 

“Can I tell you a secret?”

You nodded.

“I liked it.”

You peeked out from your hiding place against his chest, allowing your soft eyes to ask a wordless question.

“I love takin’ care of you, honey. And if you love it too, enough to give me a special name, my only business is to keep going. I’ll show you how much I like being called your Baba.”

Ever so gently, you leaned in to kiss the tip of his nose. You got comfortable in the crook of his neck before softly speaking. 

“Baba. My Baba.”

𓏲 ࣪₊♡

It was nearly dinner time when Steve returned. The three of you decided to hang out on the balcony while waiting for the food to be delivered. You sat on the outdoor rug, playing with toys while Steve and Bucky sat on the bench, chatting about their days and looking much like the love-struck Brooklyn boys from the past. Only now they had a precious little one whom their gaze often turned to. 

Your mind was utterly blank. Any train of thought drifted away as you lost yourself in the colorful blocks. You reached out to grab another piece when a large wasp landed in front of you. Startled, you pulled your hand back, accidentally knocking over the little tower you had worked so hard on. The wasp must’ve been startled too, as it began flying in frenzied circles by the fallen blocks. 

Your whimper caught the attention of the two super soldiers. Being the closest one to you, Steve leaped into action. He swiftly picked you up and carried you to the other side of the balcony. 

“It’s okay, baby. You’re okay. I’ve gotcha.” Steve did his best to soothe your trembling figure. He bounced you in his arms, holding you tight. 

You took in a shaky breath, trying to shake the fear from your thoughts. 

“Scared.”

“I know, honey. Let’s go inside, hm? Bucky’s picking up your toys for you.” Steve carried you through the sliding door, making sure no other little creatures were around as he pushed the glass aside.

He sat on the living room’s armchair with you. Steve ran his hands up and down your arms, making you feel safe. It was as if he was slowing down time just for you. You felt much calmer by the time Bucky came back inside. He gently set down your crate of toys before kneeling by the armchair. 

“You okay, pumpkin? I’m sorry that happened to ya.”

“I’m okay, thank you.”

Bucky breathed a small sigh of relief. “I gave that little punk a good talking to. No more stingers are coming around here to scare my baby, ya hear? I’ll have Tony set some nets up to be sure of it.”

You giggled, loving how his accent came out with a twinge of sass. 

“It’s okay. Dada saved me.” You punctuated your sentence with a kiss on Steve’s cheek. The blonde super soldier’s heart swelled to three times its size.

He failed miserably at keeping a dopey smile off his face. He didn’t want to scare you off by making it a big deal, though. Play it cool, Steve. Play it cool.

“I-is that me?” He coughed to clear his throat, “Am I your Dada?” 

You nodded proudly and pointed at Bucky. “And he’s my Baba.” 

The next few moments were a blur. Steve pulled Bucky onto the chair, making his partner shout before chuckling in surprise. Both of them simultaneously decided that you needed to be peppered with kisses. You decided to get them back by holding one of their faces still while you returned the favor. The three of you were a giggling mess, squished on the too-small chair: the perfect start to your precious little family.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

The TTPD Deep Dive (Part ?)

It’s no secret that I have a lot of Thoughts about The Tortured Poets Department and it has lived rent-free in my head since it came out earlier this year. I’m absolutely blown away by how underneath the chaos, it’s actually an exceptionally cohesive story and is probably the closest to a concept album Taylor has ever done.

There are so many themes that have stood out to me over the last five months, and there’s one in particular that I think not only drives the entire album, but ties into previous albums to help deepen understanding of it.

This is it, my fangirl magnum opus, my months of posts consolidated into one place. This is also my disclaimer that this is just my interpretation of the album, and my summary of the story it tells, and I don’t pretend to have any special insight or authority. I’m not saying I’m correct at all, do not take any of this as fact, it’s just what it sounds like to me, and these are my silly not-so-little thoughts about it.

(Under a cut because it’s way too long and involves discussion many may not care for or be sick of.)

Come one, come all, it's happening again (I'm thinking too hard about Taylor music)

The overarching theme in TTPD to me is: Grief. If you’re looking at TTPD as a story being told (instead of just as someone’s real life), the inciting incident of TTPD is loss, and the grief from that loss is what drives the narrator’s actions and the fallout, as well as unpacks those complicated feelings and how they apply to the her life in general. By the end of the standard album, it’s also about recovering from that pain, moving on from it and learning from it.

The loss specifically is the loss of the dream of having a family (with one’s partner). One thing that is abundantly clear both on the top line and under the surface in TTPD is how Taylor (as a person and as narrator) longed not only to for marriage but specifically parenthood, and the fear and then realization of losing that chance absolutely wrecked her— which is why the next lover’s (the conman's) wooing worked so well, because it preyed on that yearning. Yet that loss also dovetails into the grief of many things: of youth, of idealism, of relationships, of ideas, even of self, which causes almost a deconstruction of a belief system to piece one’s life back together by the end.

THE CONTEXT

TTPD weaves in the topics of marriage and motherhood both explicitly and in the subtext, in various forms and scenarios. The cheating husband in “Fortnight.” The wedding ring line in “TTPD” the song. “He saw forever so he smashed it up” in “My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys.” All of “So Long, London.” Running away with her wild boy in “But Daddy I Love Him,” fantasizing about weddings and joking about babies. The imaginary rings in “Fresh Out The Slammer.” The cheating husband (again) and the friends who smell like weed or “little babies” in “Florida!!!” “You and I go from one kiss to getting married,” “Talking rings and talking cradles,” and “our field of dreams engulfed in fire” in “loml.” (And arguably: “I wish I could un-recall how we almost had it all.”) “He said he’d love me all his life, but that life was too short,” in “I Can Do It With A Broken Heart.” They may not sound like much on their own, but they paint a picture about how the topics pervaded her thoughts and her writing, and in many cases express her desires, and her pain.

It’s something that goes back several albums when you pick up on context clues. You get the first hints on Reputation with “New Year’s Day,” and “you and me forevermore.” Then Lover is very forward with it: “Lover” is basically wedding vows, “Paper Rings” is very engagement-coded, “I Think He Knows” is cheeky but low-key “you better put a ring on it,” “It’s Nice To Have A Friend” has wedding/marriage imagery in the last verse. As a self-professed diaristic writer, it’s the type of stuff one presumably doesn’t put out there unless those conversations have already happened, and she was very excited about it at the time it was released.

Then the pandemic happens and folklore comes out, and while there is still happy love there (“invisible string”), there are also the first indications that something has happened to put a halt to whatever future she once dreamed of (“hoax,” “the lakes”) and that she’s trying to reassure herself and him that it can still happen even if she’s scared it might not (“peace”). Notably, as far as I can remember it’s the first time Taylor explicitly brings up the idea of family (with her partner) with “you know that I’d give you my wild, give you a child,” which stood out at the time because it’s so incredibly vulnerable, but it’s even more poignant when you really take in that the whole song is like a confession of her deepest worries, and this is her vowing to give him these things that she holds most sacred if he’ll let her. These are what she cherishes most dearly and wants to return in kind: her youth and commitment (my wild), the family she craves (a child), unconditional support (swing for the fences/sit in the trenches) and understanding/compassion (silence that only comes when two people know each other).

Evermore follows an even darker path, and suddenly the album explores relationships that end and grappling with loss. There are toxic relationships (“tolerate it”), dangerous marriages (“no body, no crime,” “ivy”), failing/broken relationships (“Coney Island,” “champagne problems,” “happiness,” “‘tis the damn season”), as well as grief (“Marjorie,” “evermore”). Even some of the happy songs have uncertainty in them: in “willow” she’s begging for him to take her lead, like she’s still trying to decipher him and ask him to commit; in “cowboy like me,” still a beautiful love song, she’s thinking, “this wasn’t supposed to work and we were supposed to bail on each other but we fell in love instead”; “evermore” is about the depths of severe depression (and more) with the love story being the one saving grace in her darkest hour. And it’s also notable that after all the “fiction” writing, shortly after this album she writes “Renegade” where she’s telling the subject: I’m ready to start the next phase of our life now, why aren’t you? Is it me you don’t want after all? It’s like there’s something telling her that this stall might not just be a stall.

Midnights is a jumble (in a good, but in hindsight, also sad way) with the “sleepless nights” concept, but it seems pretty clear now that the themes and events and relationships she was revisiting tied into a lot of what she was feeling in her present life. I wrote the cliff notes version awhile back, but she’s questioning so much of her life that’s reflected in past events and relationships. Am I actually always the problem? How did we lose sight of each other and what we had? We only seem to work when we block out everyone and everything else. Can we ever go back to when things were good? Why are you neglecting me? I once thought I was going to lose everything but you saved me in the nick of time, can that happen again? I chased my career, but did I give up my chance at having a family in the process? Nobody knows what I really suffer from behind closed doors and I’m all alone.

And so on, which in retrospect now that we have TTPD, is very much what she was grappling with in private while writing and releasing the album. The inspiration behind the songs may have been different events and muses, but regardless of their origins they all end up feeling too familiar, like she's seen this film before (ahem). We’re seeing her view of commitment change too, or rather how she writes about it: she’s not making the outright declarations of it like on Lover, or even the implied ones on folklore, nor is she talking of the dark side of it like evermore. For the most part it’s a return to the early days of some relationships, before things got hard, or the end of them when there was nothing left, and also pushing away the discussion of it altogether by the outside world. “Sweet Nothing” is a sweet slice of life, but even at that, it’s the peace of the home in conflict with the pressure of the outside world. Now that we have “You’re Losing Me,” which was written at the same time as the rest of the album, we can probably deduce that she was going back to the start because something happened that made her doubt the future.

THE SETUP

So much of Midnights directly ties into TTPD, and I said in the post I linked that it’s like Midnights is asking the questions that TTPD answers. But there’s one song in particular on Midnights that sticks out to me as being key in the broadest sense to understanding the state of mind that led to the events of TTPD, and that’s “Bigger Than The Whole Sky,” because the way it expresses grief is reflected in the theme of mourning a life built and the dreams along with it that are never realized in TTPD. There are several instances in TTPD that are basically variations of: “every single thing to come has turned into ashes,” and that’s what makes her snap, and leaves her vulnerable to someone who promises her those things when she’s bereaved at losing them in the first place. (In other words: “the deflation of our dreaming leaving me bereft and reeling.”) The song tells a story about how that loss of hope colours one’s entire mindset, and in some ways is a bridge to TTPD to understand what such a low point feels like.

I think that that grief, and most importantly losing hope for an imagined future in its wake, is fundamental to understanding TTPD on so many levels: both the decline with one partner that kept her hanging on then led her such a dark path, and why she fell for the conman's apparent bullshitting because it offered an express pass to what she was losing with her partner. And I also feel like it plays a part into the ruminating she’s doing all over Midnights, trying to make sense of where she finds herself when she’s writing the album, which directly leads to “You’re Losing Me.” Loss permeates so many of the stories on Midnights: of lovers, of innocence, of youth, of faith, of control, of life’s work, etc. “BTTWS” is just one of the ways in which it is expressed so fully, capturing that deep depression and subsequent extinction of faith in something that once felt assured and very much wanted. (Which is also mentioned in her writing process in the “Depression” playlist on Apple Music.)

If you understand why that feeling of loss in general across so many parts of life is so important to Midnights, then it illuminates so much about the “narrative” in TTPD too. If on Midnights she’s wrestling with the seeds of grief and loss (on multiple fronts), TTPD is her reckoning with it in its full form. “So Long, London” is the song that is the most explicit about it: How much sad did you think I had in me? How much tragedy? Just how low did you think I’d go before I’d have to go be free? You swore that you loved me, but where were the clues? I died on the altar waiting for the proof. It’s the sequel to “You’re Losing Me.” It’s, the air is thick with loss and indecision, I know my pain is such an imposition, I’m getting tired even for a phoenix, all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier, I’ve got nothing left to believe unless you’re choosing me, my heart won’t start anymore, but from the other side of the break.

This is highly speculative, but if you follow the thread about the topic and the relationship as told from Rep through TTPD, in broad strokes it goes: young love with a serious connection (Rep) -> growing up and making life plans (Lover) -> something happens that delays those plans or makes them grind to a halt (folklore) -> serious doubts arise and cause a loss of faith in their future (evermore) -> struggling with the loss of that future and trying to make sense of the problems in a last ditch attempt to save the relationship (Midnights) -> fallout from that grief after the blowup of the relationship (TTPD). Understanding that progression of events (through the music) explains not only the storytelling side of TTPD (e.g. the jump from the partner to the conman) but also how the experiences/muses blend in the music, and how the music that on the surface is about the short-term relationship is really driven by the destruction of the long-term one.

Following the music, it’s IMO implied that Taylor (the narrator) was holding out for marriage and family with her partner, for years, and it seems like it was at one point a shared dream until something happened to pump the brakes, and seemingly on her partner’s end. And extrapolating further, given how the sorrow expressed in former albums bleeds into TTPD, it sounds like a plan that had been concrete in some form before it had fallen apart, and losing something that once felt so tangible is what drives her in her grief to find any kind of respite from the pain. Which is why the situation with the conman becomes so appealing as the one with the partner splinters further and further.

(If everything you’ve once touched is sick with sadness and you don’t want to be sad anymore, what are you left to do?)

THE STORY

So (one part of) the story kind of sounds like this from the standard album: the relationship with her partner as well as his mental health slowly deteriorate and he withdraws emotionally (“London,” “Fresh Out The Slammer”) and physically (again, “London,” and “Guilty As Sin?”) and takes his resentment out on her (“London” and arguably “My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys” even though I don't want to get into muse speculation here). As she sinks deeper into her own depression as a result, the weight of the failing relationship starts feeling like a cage— or a noose (“London,” “Guilty”), but coming to terms with the loss of their life together and the future they’d dreamed of was killing her (again, “London,” but also “I Can Do It With A Broken Heart”).

Enter the conman who she reconnects with at the very point where this is coming to a head (knowing that IRL she reconnected with him around the time Midnights was being worked on) , and if you read between the lines, she confides some deeply personal things to him (“Down Bad” and “hostile takes overs”/“encounters closer and closer,” “Smallest Man” and the entire sleeper cell spy imagery which is one of my favourite things and I could write a whole essay about the meaning of it, “loml” and “A con man sells a fool a get-love-quick scheme”). Then after she’s confided these secrets to him, he insinuates himself back into her life (“Guilty,” “Down Bad,” “Smallest Man”) and sells her a dream that HE can give her all these things she hopes for (again, “Down Bad,” “Smallest Man,” “loml,” song “TTPD,” “Broken Heart”).

But the thing is, he only knows these are the things she wants because she’s revealed it to him, and presumably, told him that was what she was losing by staying with her partner. And instead of the normal response of, “that is really sad that your partner is not supporting you and you deserve to be treated better,” to a friend in growing distress, it seems like it was, “well I can give you all those things!!!! Right now!!!! Trust me!!!!” And worked on her until she believed it, and jumped at the chance at a precarious time in her life. And one thing I want to underscore is: Taylor has agency in the situation always, it’s not like she’s been kidnapped and brainwashed. (In fact, she implores on songs like “But Daddy” that SHE is in charge of her own choices, good or bad.) She chose to rekindle the friendship and then relationship, and she chose to eventually leave her long term relationship for another man, and she reiterates on the album that she owns this all. But it’s also: nothing exists in a vacuum, and she makes choices based on emotions and information she has at the time, which is why it gives so much whiplash.

THE ALBUM

When you look at it as, the situation with the conman only happens because of what happened with the partner first and that the appeal of the conman and the fantasy he sells her is a direct reaction to that, it makes the “swirliness” of the music make so much more sense. And for much of it, even many of the “conman” songs on the surface are really “partner” songs underneath.

Fortnight

A suburban gothic allegory about a broken marriage with a distant husband with a wandering eye, which makes the rekindled romance with the neighbor so appealing. She’s miserable caged in her stifling house because she’s been abandoned by her spouse, so the reappearance of this past love reignites the passion that’s dead at home.

TTPD

“So tell me, who else is gonna know me?” “I chose this cyclone with you.” I’m gonna kill myself if you ever leave. Everyone knows we’re crazy. She’s laying it out there that she’s already in a dangerous state of mind, and she’s actively putting herself in more danger by pursuing the conman. “At dinner you take my ring off my middle finger and put it on the one people put wedding rings on, and that’s the closest I’ve come to my heart exploding,” spells this whole thing out so clearly: whether it’s an actual event (likely) or a metaphor for the promise he makes to her, the reason why it makes her heart explode is because it’s the thing she’s been waiting for forever with no movement, and here this person comes in and slips it on her finger in an instant like it’s nothing. (And eventually, as we’ll come to know, it is absolutely nothing to him.) You mean it could have been this easy this whole time?! (Well, no. Not until a certain other suitor makes his appearance later.) It feels like she’s finally getting everything she wanted in the blink of an eye! How lucky! How convenient! What was that about the get-love-quick scheme you say? (Unsaid: the reason why this feels so urgent is because there’s a sense that time is running out in so many aspects of her life and not just the obvious. Which reappears later on.)

Down Bad

“Did you really beam me up in a cloud of sparkling dust just to do experiments on?” sets the scene for this euphoric experience in the moment that starts to feel violating once the dust settles (which is then followed up in “Smallest Man” and the spy mission on her). The bridge spells out how he weaselled his way into her life, preyed upon (intentionally or not) her emotional state, sold her a dream and then vanished, without the benefit of hindsight yet we see later in the album.

The alien abduction metaphor is pretty brilliant, because it shows both how she was desperate to escape the place she found herself in, and how much it screwed her brain to then be left stranded when the affair was over. “[I loved your] hostile takeovers, encounters closer and closer,” is so evocative because it details how the situation came to be: his overtures under the guise of friendship blurred lines until he made her an offer that she eventually couldn’t refuse (hostile takeovers) as he infiltrated her life more and more intimately. The sad thing is that the song has parallels to how her relationship with the partner started too in earlier albums, in that they ran away to live in their own bubble (or planet) only for him to metaphorically abandon her as the years went on. (Oven, meet microwave.)

My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys

Being continually emotionally broken down by a person who knows he’s hurting you but still acts the way he does. (The original voice memo version makes this even clearer and it’s rather heartbreaking.) “He saw forever so he smashed it up,” speaks to the loss of a future the person became scared of, and the original lyrics (“he saw forever so he blew it up”) somehow cut even deeper to me because it feels so much more intentional.

Also in the original version, “he was my best friend and that was the worst part,” also speaks not only to the loss of an entire partnership in the wake of this hurt, but also to the feelings of betrayal that the person you trust so deeply has the ability to hurt you in this way too, and how it’s a one-two punch of not only losing the relationship but also your closest confidant. (It’s like the sequel to “Renegade” and the missiles firing to me.) Again, there are shades of both/many situations in the song, pointing to an unfortunate pattern in some ways. The situation in “My Boy” is part of why she was so low, and why the “get love quick scheme” was so appealing later on. And it dovetails nicely into…

So Long, London

The most explicitly “partner” song that puts a coda on “You’re Losing Me,” and is Track 5 because it’s the emotional underpinning of how she got to where she was, and drives the events of the rest of the album. It spells everything out: He withdrew, she tried to fix it for both of them, eventually even that stopped working, he was oblivious to or minimized how badly she was suffering and his (in)actions couldn’t reassure her, he wouldn’t move forward on their future plans and stewed in his own struggles, she was spiralling out of control trying to hang on and ultimately felt like she was going to die if she didn’t leave.

But Daddy I Love Him

Like a direct reaction to “So Long, London” in that she breaks free from the death of one relationship and throws herself with reckless abandon to the next, fuck the haters. How dare you judge me, when the relationship you think I should have stayed in was killing me? (Dutiful daughter all the plans were laid. All you want is gray for me.) Fuck all of you, I’m going to choose whoever I want! (So what if I have a baby with HIM, huh?! I tried doing it the proper way and look where that got me so now we're back to square one) It’s again her imagining how wonderful and freeing this “wild boy” is going to be for her, and how wrong she’ll prove everyone. THIS TIME she definitely got it right. So what if she has to run away! So what if she scandalizes the whole town! They don’t know what she really wants or needs anyway! She’s the only one of her (hee-hee-hee) and she’s the only who gets to decides how this goes. (Because: she longs for control in a situation she’ll eventually realize she has little of it in, which we’ll find out is a recurring theme in her life.)

Fresh Out The Slammer

Also spells out what happened with the partner in the first verse and the pre-choruses, which is what makes the conman so appealing as the imagined jailbreak. The bitter loneliness vs. the sultry passion she builds up in her head as she awaits her release from prison is key to understanding the two sides of the story in the album. There’s this whole outlaw imagery (which is also carried through in “I Can Fix Him”), but it’s contrasted in the end with her and her reunited lover sitting on park swings like children with “imaginary rings” — because “Ain't no way I'm gonna screw up now that I know what's at stake.” What’s at stake is lasting love and the promises that come with it (marriage/family) that are precious and time-sensitive. The imaginary rings are both a nod to the youthful dreams of her and her new/old lover, but also has a double meaning to me because those promises aren’t built on anything together; they're made up, intangible. (They’re no more concrete than the plans that went up in smoke with the partner.) Like with most of the conman situation, it’s all a fantasy in her head that has yet to happen, and as we find out later in the album, reality ends up leaving much to be desired.

Florida!!!

Broadly speaking, it’s running away from your problems and wanting to disappear from your life. (But again: the life she’s disappearing from is the cheating husband she may or may not be feeding to the swamp-- another miserable marriage.) What kind of flies under the radar though is the “I don’t want to exist,” line, which points to her dire state of mind that led her to fleeing to that metaphorical timeshare down in Destin. In many ways about cheating death.

Guilty As Sin

Yes it’s the “masturbation song,” but again the nuance is that she’s left to pleasure herself because her partner has abandoned her emotionally and even physically, i.e. “my boredom’s bone deep.” To be blunt: they aren’t even intimate anymore, so she starts fantasizing about the guy she used to have chemistry with who’s reentered her life and is making moves on her. And realizing that she’s now finding release in another man (albeit imaginary) breaks her even as it reinvigorates her because she finally understands that the relationship she’s in is effectively dead. (“Am I allowed to cry?”)

Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me

This isn’t about relationships, but about society and its reaction to them in a general sense. But again, she’s left to stew in all this anger and hurt as she’s been abandoned at home, then abandoned by public opinion, and the public attack on her is part of the origin as well as the end of that story. The trauma inflicted upon her detailed in the song is the reason why she felt trapped in the first place, which led to the decisions she’s made and habits she’s leaned on ever since.

I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)

This is one of the few songs that is the most completely conman-coded, and shows when the delusion finally breaks at the end of the song. She spends the whole song being like, “no really, I alone can make him better! You’ll see! I know he’s gross, but he’s mine! It’ll be fine I swear! You don’t know anything! Uuuuuum hmm wait actually what the fuck—“

Loml

Oof. THE song. Again the surface reading is about the “conman” who comes in and sells her the lie, but the pain is because all the dreams she writes about are HER dreams and implied that they were the dreams she built with her partner that the conman sold back to her. I could do a deeper dive on this but most of the song is applicable to both relationships, which not only shows the “swirliness” of her writing, but also how they both ultimately did the same thing to her in different shades.

The bridge and the last chorus are kind of fundamental to understanding it all, and her ending it with “you’re the loss of my life” is about, among other things, how falling for this trap blew up the life she built and dreamed of for good. (I could talk about this one forever.) “You shit-talked me under the table, talking rings and talking cradles” to “Our field of dreams engulfed in fire” is a hell of a line and progression, and again, indicative of what the real driving force behind the whole album is. The shit-talking is because he took her dreams (of marriage and children) and hyped it back up to her tenfold whether in a moment of his own delusion or for more nefarious reasons — much like how the man prior kept promising these things but never followed through, which left her vulnerable to someone who appeared to offer them enthusiastically. The field of dreams isn’t just the one with the conman, it’s the one with the longterm relationship she’d built the dream with in the first place, because the conman’s actions are part of the reason the LTR went up in smoke. (Not the reason for the rift, but the consequence of the final break.) And THAT is why it’s the loss of her life, so completely.

When she says “I wish I could un-recall how we almost had it all,” IMO it’s not just the fake future that the conman lures her into, but also (and perhaps mainly) the once-real one she had with her partner and the loss of which that made her susceptible to falling for the con in the first place. There’s honestly so much between the lines in this song that covers every theme and speaks to the grief of seeing the life she imagined slip away, slowly by the first man then annihilated by the second.

I Can Do It With a Broken Heart

The juxtaposition of “He said he’d love me all his life, but that life was too short” and “He said he’d love me for all time, but that time was quite short” sums it up to me (and parallels “loml”), because they are two different situations, but they cut her just the same. In the first, “that life” IMO was the life they’d built with the dreams that went along with it and it was too short because he never followed through, and in the second, the “time” was quite short because it was the frenzy of the whirlwind romance that fizzled as quickly as it began. The life that was too short led to the time that was quite short.

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

This is definitely THE conman song. The rage, the shame, the violation, it’s all in there. But the key to it is the bridge and the espionage imagery woven through it. A honeypot scheme is when spies target a mark and seduce them to gain their trust and their privileged information for their homeland. So her likening him to a sleeper cell spy who set her up just to mine her deepest secrets and use them against her is a heavy, loaded statement. And implied: that valuable information she unknowingly held were her longings of marriage and family (the aforementioned shit-talking about rings and cradles she never got to have), and more importantly, those dreams preceded him reentering her life and then beginning his mission on her.

The insinuation then is: she confesses these are her deepest wishes which are now seemingly unattainable in her current situation (e.g. with her partner) -> he convinces her HE will give them to her and make the dreams she pines for come true -> she falls for him and blows up her life to make it happen -> he gets what he wants (thrill of the chase/sex/the idea of her/whatever his intent was) -> he abandons her when he gets what he wants, or rather it isn’t what he wants or can handle -> she’s left a) all alone b) with dreams unfulfilled c) with no answers d) feeling used at having her most sacred wishes used against her.

Again, the song is unquestionably about the way the conman absolutely destroyed her, but he was able to do that because there was this thing she wanted more than anything, that was dying in her previous relationship, that he was able to prey upon to seduce her, then discarded her and her dreams as soon as it was inconvenient for him while absolutely hollowing her inside out. (And again: the devastating thing is that this also applies to other relationships she’s written about, in different ways.)

The Alchemy

Not about either the partner or the conman directly, but it (loosely) touches on her finding herself after the whole oven-to-microwave experience and opening herself up to life and love again. #GoodForHer

Clara Bow

This isn’t about the romantic relationships on the surface, but it is about how damaging the entertainment industry and public life are on women, and how women are only valued for their beauty as commodities until they can be discarded and destroyed in the process. Which I think plays into the circumstances that led her to make the decisions that she did years ago, and why she makes the ones she does now. (But also, being valued for physical traits and appeal for the male gaze brings us to…)

The Manuscript

The “original sin” that kicks off all of this. Again, at first light this isn’t about the partner or the conman, but the person it is about is the reason why she has made all the decisions she has ever since in relationships (and that’s Mr. Plaid Shirt Days from “All Too Well”). The realization that her first serious adult relationship is what cemented these patterns, and this view of herself and her worthiness in relationships, is profoundly sad. An older man who valued her for being so mature for her age and implying that the mature activities ahem associated with that were the performance benchmarks in her ability to carry a relationship, only to leave her, was earth shattering. She placed her faith in this person, but then the way he treated her changed her view of love and of herself.

She took his innuendo about “pushing strollers” as a sign of potential commitment, whereas he ultimately meant it as foreplay, and she was too young and naive to know the difference. So not only did she learn from that that this man (and men) didn’t view commitment and family the way she did and that it was something to be toyed with, but she also learned that her value to them among other things was sex. Imagine being an idealistic 20 year old and your boyfriend ten years your senior tells you, “if the sex is anywhere near as good as our dates have been, we’re going to be making babies before you know it,” (e.g. this is relationship is serious) and then he dumps you: does that imply that the sex was not in fact that good? (E.g. that you’re not worthy after all?)

No, obviously from this side of life, it’s because he was a commitment-phobic playboy, even if he did love her, but she couldn’t have known that at 20 and instead internalized that shame. But, it did send her on a path of how she approached sex and love and relationships for over a decade afterwards. And her coming to the realization that that first act of (perhaps unintentional) manipulation is what informed her actions thereafter helped her break the pattern. Her worth to men is not just sex, she has value and her hopes and dreams have value, she doesn’t have to change into a different person to please anyone, because if that is what they want, they won’t ever want her anyway.

It’s been described here on Tumblr by people more eloquent and astute than I as a song that encapsulates the album as this: one did it slow (partner), one did it fast (conman), and one did it first (first love)— and that is haunting. After years of men minimizing her dreams and desires, if not outright using them against her, she’s finally at the point where she can let it all go and move on for good. (There’s a whole other tangent about consent and shame and manipulation, but that’s an entirely different kind of discussion. But it is so devastatingly contrasted with “you said if we had been closer in age maybe it would have been fine, and that made me want to die.”)

THE SUMMATION

This is just my interpretation of it, but in going through the standard album, it feels pretty clear how cohesive the album is about a story of love and loss and grief, then reckoning with what caused it all in the first place that set a person on this path. It’s a formative experience at a young age that was traumatic and led to certain coping mechanisms and a shaping of one’s self-perception, as well as the reaction to external pressures that try to dictate behaviours and influence how one feels one deserves out of love which makes it harder to know when one absolutely deserves more and better. And leaves one struggling to cope with loss when there isn’t anything else to hold onto. Then in light of one’s life blowing up, learning to find oneself in the aftermath all over again.

On another tangent that is somewhat related to the theme of loss, the way she writes about the two main muses on the standard album also ties into how the situations converged to create absolute carnage on her emotional and mental well-being. With one situation, she’s talking about a concrete life that crumbles under the weight of their struggles; with the other, the entire thing is a fantasy that she builds up in her head, and when it comes to fruition it falls far, far short.

If you look at the “microwave” (conman) relationship, you realize that almost everything she writes about it happens before it actually becomes reality, and it’s mostly her imagining how great it’ll be, but with few exceptions, when she writes about what actually occurred, it doesn’t even come close to living up to her expectations. “Fortnight” is an imagined future where she escapes to Florida and his touch finally starts her stalled engine (ahem). “TTPD” is perhaps the most positive retelling of their time together, but even that implies he was better off stoned and when he sobered up he succumbed to his demons all over again, and more importantly she conveys how she also is in extreme distress, barely concealed by the veneer of being infatuated with him. (E.g. saying to that she’ll kill herself if he ever leaves her — the implication is that she is absolutely serious about it when she “felt seen.”) And that the warning bells are going off in her head, but she feels like this person is the only one she can be with (because they’re equally fucked up and the chaos he brings into her life makes her feel alive when she felt so close to death).

“Down Bad” is the most explicit about being in love, but she’s also left completely confused and disoriented by him disappearing, wondering if any of it was real and the seeds of violation creep into her consciousness (“did you really beam me up in a cloud of sparkling dust just to do experiments on?” “Waking up in blood.”). “But Daddy” is her imagining she can tell everyone to fuck off for telling her what to do with her life. “Fresh Out The Slammer” is her fantasizing about this man while feeling trapped in her relationship — but never in the song is she actually reunited with him; she’s using him as the projection of all the things she’ll make right after being wronged by her partner. “Guilty As Sin?” Is very obviously about her fantasizing about sleeping with him, but again it’s such a minefield for her because it hasn’t happened yet; they’ve only just reconnected. “I Can Fix Him” is the only song other than “TTPD” that shows them actually together, and it’s the one where she keeps saying, essentially, “I know he’s gross but I can rehabilitate him into an upstanding person, trust me,” until the mic drop at the end of the song where it finally hits her that no, she can’t, because this is who he is, not the person she’s built him up to be.

“Loml” is when it all comes crashing down, and the song emphasizes everything he did and told her, e.g. that she’s the love of his life, but she doesn’t return the sentiment in the song about their time together. Because now that it’s past tense, she knows it wasn’t actually love. (And says as much in the album epilogue poem.) “Broken Heart” is her reeling in the aftermath, but again, it’s “he said,” not “I loved.” And then there’s “The Smallest Man,” where she eviscerates him: he also pursued an idea of her but didn’t care much for the real her in front of him (who else is gonna know me?), he love bombed her only to hurt her (crushing her dreams), he was constantly stoned (and not just in the funny munchies kind of way), and he wasn’t even a good lover (despite the fantasy she’d created before). That last point is especially striking because she spent albums singing about the importance of and pleasure in (sexual) intimacy in the relationship with her partner (sometimes to both their own detriment) and how it was at times the only way they could connect, but in this case, the idea she hyped up and acted on in her head about this lover never panned out in practice. She spells it out in the epilogue: it wasn’t a love affair, it was a mutual manic phase.

In contrast, there’s a lot more tangible action in the “oven” (partner) parts of the album, showing how hard she tried to make the relationship work in real life instead of just in her head. All of “So Long, London” is her detailing how she tried to break through to him and support him, even when he rejected it and pushed her away, thinking she could carry them both until they ultimately sank, but she did it because she “loved this place for so long.” (The place? Not just the city, but the home and perhaps most importantly, him.) In “Slammer” she stayed with him even as things disintegrated for “one hour of sunshine.” (E.g. holding onto the rarer good times even as they were fewer and further between, hoping things would eventually turn around.) And like in “London,” she held on despite people in her life pleading with her that it was hurting her. (Which is also echoed in “Slammer.”) In “Guilty” her boredom is “bone deep” because the passion that once drove their relationship (and papered over their problems) has finally gone out too, so there’s nothing left to hold onto, leading to her fantasizing about the new suitor, which makes her realize her relationship has passed the point of no return. “Loml” is about the conman on the surface, but the undercurrent of all the things she says about him is that he was co-opting the dreams that she was clinging onto for dear life in the previous relationship, which is why the con is so painful; the field of dreams he sets ablaze isn’t just the fake painting he sold to her, but the original artifact (her life with her partner) too.

All the physical and emotional labour she puts into the relationship with her partner ends up reflected in the fantasizing she does in the one with the conman, which is why it is so confusing in the moment and so lethal when he leaves her without any answers. She wants to get married and start a family with her partner which keeps getting stalled; the conman mock-proposes which makes her think he’s immediately serious (“TTPD,” “loml”). She feels caged by having to hide with her partner and shrink herself; the conman promises he’ll stand by her side publicly and let her shine (“Smallest Man”). She sinks into a deep depression in her loneliness as the relationship with her partner careens off a cliff; the conman convinces her they’re meant for each other in a them-against-the-world way (“Down Bad”). The intimacy (in all senses of the word) in her relationship with her partner fizzles; the conman stokes the fire by sending her secret messages and reigniting passion (“Guilty”). She spent years trying to help her partner to no avail; the conman makes her think she has the power to reform him (“loml”). She feels misunderstood by her partner; the conman acts like he’s the (only) one who truly gets her (“TTPD,” “loml”).

In short: there’s nothing that the conman does or says that isn’t a direct response to what her partner did first, and it’s even worse because the conman knew how much her partner’s actions hurt her and he used that privileged information to paint a picture of what he could give her, but in doing so in some ways aimed at her heart with even deadlier accuracy. (I’ve likened it to him borrowing someone else’s life for his own joyride, until he crashes the rental car and flees the scene.) It’s why in the aftermath, the difference in emotions are so different: she feels nothing but rage and violation towards the conman for getting in her head and using her, whereas her feelings towards her partner are more complicated. There’s anger (at her lost youth and being taken for granted), but there’s also sorrow (at their lost life and future), disappointment (that he never could step up the way he’d promised or she’d needed), even compassion (towards his struggles) and a tiny measure of appreciation (for the good times they did share).

When you look at the bigger picture, the story the album paints is just so painfully normal. You have two people (Taylor and her partner) who once loved each other deeply, and despite warning signs early on telling them they have fundamentally different needs and ways of living their lives they fight like hell to make it work (the epilogue) until those warning signs become grenades that destroy their home (“My Boy,” “London,” “Slammer,” arguably “loml”). Having already been through at least one rough patch/break/breakup that she felt almost destroyed her (harkening back to Midnights on “You’re Losing Me,” “The Great War” and “Hits Different”), the final and fatal downward spiral of the relationship (“YLM,” “London”) and the grief over losing that future sends her into a tailspin, just at the time where a flame from the past (the conman) reenters her life and tells her all the things she’s been longing to hear and feel (“TTPD,” “Down Bad,” “Guilty,” “loml”) and, crucially, missing from the relationship that was once her entire life.

So in her panic, she falls prey to the (empty) promises of the past lover (“loml,” “Smallest Man”) and decides he’s actually what will save her from the free fall, because the alternative (that she will end up in a situation she doesn’t think she can survive) is too painful to bear. When she finally acts on these circumstances (leaves her partner/runs to the conman), she snaps, acting on pure emotion and adrenaline (“But Daddy”), but before she knows it, the new lover abandons her, and she’s left to reckon with the fallout of the episode and process everything that has happened (“Down Bad,” “loml”) — with the conman, with her partner, with the choices made in her adult life personally and professionally which leads her back to the moment she feels set her down that road at the start.

The TL;DR of this unintentionally long essay is that the reason the conman affair was so serious was precisely because it was meant to fulfill the promise of what was her life with her partner. To me, a large part of the story is that she projected that life onto the conman (or he projected her life back to her for his own purposes) because she wasn’t ready to deal with that massive grief and the life raft he offered felt like the only alternative to an even darker end. Whether the conman actually believed what he told her, or he went along with it or encouraged it because it served his purpose, we’ll never know, just like we’ll never know the finer details of what went on (nor should we). But no matter what, the album is just an extreme deep dive into all the ways grief can consume us, and whether it’s a long, drawn-out death or a sudden, inexplicable one, it can turn a person’s life into such a trainwreck that they act in ways unfathomable to even them, let alone the people around them. It can also unleash repressed trauma and mental illness that can crater your sense of self. And when those situations are compounded? It makes for a nearly impossible type of breakdown to unpack. (Which is why you might need a 31 song album to process it.)

[eddiesvixen]

Just Like Paradise

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳, 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁, 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗶𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗽𝗶𝗰𝘀 (𝘀𝗵𝗶𝘁𝘁𝘆 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝘂𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆), 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼 𝗛𝗮𝘄𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗝𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗹𝗺 𝗻𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲, 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝟭𝟵𝟴𝟵

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗻𝘁: 𝟯.𝟳𝗸

the first chapter of Open ‘til Midnight

Friday mornings always start off simple for you. You wake up, get yourself clean and dressed up for work. Maybe have breakfast but if not, you usually pack some snacks to munch on behind the counter or go with Eddie to the diner near the store.

Eddie.

Your friend, best friend even. Since attending elementary school together, to summer concerts to working at Empire for 4 years now, you two are the closest friends. You look after each other, care for each other, dream of each other. Actually that might just be you.

The blaring horn of his van rings your ears as he approaches the curb.

“Sorry i’m late sweetheart.” He grins from the van, leaning over to open the door for you.

You sigh and climb into the passenger seat. “It’s fine. I like smelling like sweat during a long shift,” you remark sarcastically.

He groans and pulls off. “Wasn’t my fault, ozzy’s being a pain in my ass.”

“He scratch up another cd?”

“No, little shit keeps hiding my lanyard. Gonna have to make an entirely new one today.”

You laugh. “Oh, Hop’s gonna kill you. That’s like the third-”

“Third one this month?” He smirks, “He’ll have to catch me first.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re wearing a new perfume. Trying to impress someone?” He wiggles his brows suggestively, even more so teasingly.

“Can’t a girl just smell good?”

“Well yeah but you’re not fooling me. I remember when you wore that new skirt to impress that guy at the garage show in November, so.. spill.”

Damn you, Eddie. Why’s he so observant?

“Is it that blonde guy who buys all the Aerosmith? Because let me tell you, I’ve seen him pull at the doors too many times. They cleary say push.” He smiles.

“Aren’t you the guy who locked himself in the supply closet during a closing shift?”

He frowns, though there isn’t any real sadness behind it. “Sweetheart, that was one time. And how was I supposed to know that the lock was jammed.”

You giggle. “Yeah well don’t forget it tonight. Closing with you and Harrington just sounds like disaster waiting to happen.”

He smirks. “Give the guy some slack.”

“If he spent less time flirting with customers and more time pricing the cds we’d be alright.”

“And you don’t flirt with customers?” His smirk is accompanied by yet another raise of his brows.

“Shut it, Munson. Or I’ll make Hop put you on booth duty.”

Eddie cringes and shakes his head. “You’re so cruel.”

“And very hungry.”

He pulls into the parking lot of the diner. “Well we’ve got a solid 18 before the store opens so.. lets eat.”

~~~~

You’re full and grinning when you walk into the store with Eddie. You find yourself smiling everytime you walk into the store. On your worst days and nights, you’ve never been more grateful to work in a place like Empire, consistently surrounded by things and people you love.

When you walk into the back room you head into the employee restroom. Fixing your hair as you look into the mirror you do a smell check. Yeah.. the perfume is great. There’s no way you’d ever tell Eddie you wore it for his reaction alone.

Just like you wore these true religion jeans for his reaction. Curvy and dark wash, the bootcut flattering your curves. The cropped band tee on your body. You even did your makeup a little differently. A new lip combo you only miss he’d ruin.

You run your hands over your body. Feels good, looks good-

Knock, Knock.

“You better not be doing what I think you’re doing in there again.”

The voice is muffled by the door and still very amusing to hear. You open the door.

“Geez Harrington, what ever would I be doing in the restroom?”

His brows raise. “Oh, thought you were Munson.”

You smile, challenging him a bit. “What did you think Eddie was doing?”

“Nothing.” He shrugs but your mind isn’t gonna rest on the matter so he changes the topic quickly. “Listen, Hop said he wants to see you in his office anyways.”

“Me?” You don’t worry. It’s no secret that Jim loves all of his employees, his most reliable being you.

“Yeah. I’ll find Eddie next. Think it’s about our closing shift.”

He follows you as you walk towards Jim’s office. “Cool. I think Eddie just went to make a new ID.”

“Another?!” Steve laughs and shakes his head.

“Says ozzy hid it from him.”

“This guy and his cat. Okay, i’ll go get him.”

You nod and with that give a nice knock before walking into Jim’s office.

“Morning.” You grin.

He greets you by name. “Hey, how are you doing?”

“Good. Steve said you needed to see me?”

“Right, your closing shift. Listen, i’m gonna need to leave the store a bit early tonight.”

“Is everything alright?” He usually never leaves. He loves the place just as much as any of you.

“Everything’s fine. But just for tonight, I am leaving you in charge of the store.”

You smile. “Me? Are you sure?”

“I trust you.”

“You know, Chrissy’s coming in at 2 if you wanna ask her? Or maybe Robin?”

“You shying away from your opportunities?” He raises a brow.

“No! Just, sounds like a big responsibility is all. Plus I kinda stay in the metal section all day.”

“And that’s okay. I’m just telling you work freely today. Wherever you’re needed, just like me. Can you do that?”

“Of course.” You smile. “Won’t let you down.”

~~~~~~

By 1pm, the crowd of customers is chill, but growing per usual. Customers take up the listening booths, others reading vinyl covers and checking out the clearance section. Jonathan’s cleaning the booths, Steve organizes the pop section and doubling on another task, reading an article on the next Duran Duran album. Eddie’s across the store, talking to a customer. Some older guy who’s definitely judging how he’s dressed and he still does it with a smile.

“It’s just totally ridiculous.” Robin says eyeing down your expression.

You turn to face her. “What?”

“Oh nothing just, you know, watching my idiot friends who clearly want a piece of each other do absolutely nothing about it.”

“Robin for the millionth time. Friends. Platonic with a capital P. Those are literally your words.”

“Uh, yeah. Because im a lesbian and Steve’s a nut. That’s platonic. But two people who share beds, share drinks, share underwear-”

Your eyes widen. “Okay that was one time.”

She smiles. “Once during movie night, another after leaving the pool.”

“Okay well movie night I bled through mines so I had no choice. And as for the pool, my clothes were drenched Rob. What was he supposed to do, let me freeze my bare ass off?”

“Fine whatever. That still doesn’t mean you dont wanna bone each other.”

You cringe. “Bone? Please don’t tell me that’s what you and Vickey call it.”

“Well at least someone’s getting some.” She winks. “But seriously, are you not gonna talk to him about this?”

“No, Robin. Look at this place. Look at me and Eddie. That’s my best friend. I don’t need some little feelings getting in the way of that.”

“Getting in the way of what?” Eddie says from behind you.

“Geez Munson are you trying to give us a heart attack?”Robin rolls her eyes.

Eddie laughs. “Excuse me for doing my job.” He tucks some cds under the shelf and holds one behind his back.

“Whatcha got there, rockstar?” You raise a brow.

“Just a little surprise for my favorite metalist.”

Robin teasingly mouths the word favorite before she walks off with a stack of vinyls. You grin and focus back on the cd.

You gasp. “Holy shit.” You take the cd. “Skyscraper?! Where the hell did you even find this?”

The sold out pretty quickly when they hit the shelves. In all honesty who doesn’t love David Lee Roth.

“Under the shelf in the break room. Dropped my ID and he was hiding under the sofa.” He smirks, proud of the smile he caused on your face.

“Wow. Thanks Eddie.” You smile.

“No need for that. But how about we give him a spin for the speakers, give everyone a taste of last year?”

“Deal.”

Eddie pops the cd in, and plays it loud for the intercom of the store. From Knucklebones to Just like Paradise, you smile and dance a bit behind the counter as you scan in your cds. Leaving a small wave to Hopper as he exits the store at 2 and Chrissy walks in. Time for you to leave the counter and become manager.

~~~~~

You grabbed a clipboard and got to checking and making sure things were in place. Vinyls, check. Bathrooms, clean. Customers, attended to. When the clock strikes 5pm you decide to take a break.

In the back room, you sit on the sofa and take off your boots, letting your feet rest on the rug. The soft cotton of your socks nuzzling the scratchy fuzz of the rug beneath your feet. You look around the room. Pics of everyone on the walls. The rolling stones, heavy metal and well.. playboys on the coffee table. The staff lockers decorated for each employee. It’s comforting. A home away from home.

You put on your walkman and rest your eyes as Biff Byford sings.

Lady face the morning sun

the sunlight in your hair

Northern Lady, you’re the one

You’re so relaxed and enjoying the music that you don’t hear the door open. Eddie walks in and sits down a box of damages. He looks at you, enjoying seeing you so relaxed. He walks over and watched you for a bit. The rise and fall of your chest, the way your lashes kiss your skin. He gently nudged your knee with his and you open your eyes, smiling and removing your headphones.

“Hey, everything okay?”

He looks at the tape and gasps dramatically, clutching his chest like someone stabbed him.

“Listening to Saxon without me, sweetheart? I thought you cared about me.” He flops onto the sofa and falls out dramatically over your lap, failing to hide his grin you start to laugh.

“So dramatic!” You try to shove him off but he won’t go.

“I think i’m dying, sweetheart. Tell the others I love them.”

You frown a bit. “No love for me?”

He thinks for a bit rubbing his chin and you giggle and flip him off at the hesitation.

“Screw you.” You grin and shove him and stand, causing his mop of hair to flop onto the sofa with the rest of his body. He’s grateful of the angle he fell at, moving his hair from his eyes to see the sight of you bending over and digging through the box of damages. The way they shape your ass does plenty for him. He’s suddenly a huge fan of true religion.

“Someone stole a Wham cd?” You giggle and shake the empty cd case.

“That’s not even the worst part. Dig deeper and you’ll see that someone actually stole not one, not two, but three Cyndi Laupner tapes.” He stands and walks over to stand next to you.

“Wow. And they think we’re the criminals for listening to a little metal.”

Chrissy’s voice comes through the intercom. “Help needed in aisle 8.”

They always call for you or Eddie to attend to the metal section since you’re the only two who actually knows what a customer means when they ask about Metallica tapes with and without Dave Mustaine.

“I got this one sweetheart. You take this break, okay?”

You nod. “Thanks Eddie, I owe you.”

“No worries.” He grins and walks out.

As you look through the tapes you see one that warms your heart. A beatles tape with a red sticker on it, a pentagram drawn on the sticker.

When Eddie leaves stickers on different tapes, he wants you to hold them for him. And you know exactly why he chose the beatles tape. His mother loved their music. Eddie told you about how she would sing to him and let him dance on her toes. Elizabeth Munson was an angel, and she birthed the most sweetest boy who marks tapes now in her own remembrance.

It makes you think of your parents. How nice things were before your mother started cheating on your father with her coworkers. You remember how she’d tell you to play outside. “Go ride your bike!” That’s what you got told most summers while she’d have company over, only to come back later to hear your father angry and yelling about her infidelity.

“Is this what you want for our daughter?!”

“She wasn’t here!”

“And who was she with? She’s eight years old, she’s not blind!”

“Well i’m tired of your shit!”

“What shit?! My consistent work of two jobs to keep my family out of the street?!”

“You never make love to me anymore!”

For hours, they’d argue. Screaming and fussing. Glass breaking, cursing, your mother threatening to take you from your father, claiming youre both better off without him. When nights got really bad, you snuck out and stayed at Eddie’s.

He’d given you his bed and when you begged him not to leave, you swore you saw him tear up. Eddie never cries in front of anyone, but that night he knew you needed someone. Needed him. And as his mother’s tapes helped him when times were rough, it helped you too.

But all of these friends and lovers

There is no one compares with you

The beatles would sing and Eddie would rub your back as you cried, crying until your body goes slump and you fall asleep. You always swore to take care of each other, and even now looking at the tape, you remember it all and it somehow feels bittersweet. You showed each other what love is

~~~~~~

“Mm… marry Patrick Swayze, kiss George Michael, kill Nikki Sixx.”

You gasp at Chrissy’s obnoxious opinion.

“Are you kidding me? You’d kill Nikki Sixx?” You help her dust off the record player and move to the register together to count the cash from the day’s end.

“Well Patrick’s so hot,” she smiles. “And besises I can’t kill George Michael he’s like the heart of pop, next to Michael Jackson anyways.”

“You blow my mind.” You shake your head and she looks at the guys upstairs, cleaning out the listening booths. And you both zero in on Eddie with his walkman headset on.

“What do you think he’s listening to?” She looks at you.

Eddie’s not headbanging or dancing, which he would usually do if he were listening to metal, which means he isn’t. You have a hunch it’s the beatles tape, but that’s personal. Something Eddie confided in you about. So you shrug.

“Maybe some Journey? Or a Billy Idol tape. I did see him bring one up here earlier.”

She grins, tilting her head as she watches Eddie. “Journey, huh? That doesn’t seem very Eddie.”

You chuckle. “You’d be surprised. He’s got layers, like an onion.. or I guess those burgers he likes so much from Lucky’s. There’s always something unexpected hiding in that mane.”

She snorts at the metaphor and leans against the counter, her gaze drifting back to Eddie. “I wanna ask but then again I don’t. Feels like peeking into his diary.”

“Yeah,” you agree, lowering your voice as if Eddie might hear you. “He’s always so private about his walkman but just blasts his music in his van, it’s so silly.”

She studies you for a second, a slow smile forming across her face. “You know him better than anyone.”

You shrug, pretending not to care as much. You tske much pride in knowing so much about Eddie, but you shove those feelings down to avoid Chrissy causing a scene. “Yeah I guess. We’ve been through a lot together so I can’t help but look out for him.”

“Sure.” She says simply, smirking a bit as she starts to count change from the register. You want to ask her what’s so funny or to knock it off, same as you told Robin earlier.

Before you can respond, Eddie pulls off the headphones and looks down at you both. “What’re you whispering about down there?” he calls, his voice teasing but curious. He removes his headphones and ruffles his hair, not wanting to have a dent.

You smirk and call back, “Your deep, dark secrets. Hope you’re not listening to Careless Whisper up there.”

Eddie flips you off with a grin, and you catch the faintest hint of pink on his cheeks. His smile grows when you and Chrissy flip him off in return.

“I bet you’d love that princess.”

Steve comes up to the register. “Booths are all clean. Did the back room, I think we’re ready for closing.”

“Okay. I um.. I have to stay behind. Jim left me in charge and I’ve gotta count the cash and take it to the bank.”

“Okay.” Steve raises a brow. “You gonna be okay alone?”

“Yeah, i’m fine. It’s late and you’re opening tomorrow you should go.”

He nods and hugs you. Chrissy joins in and Eddie yells from upstairs. “Are you kidding me?!”

��Shut up.” You all say in unison. But you laugh when you hear his sneakers scruff down the stairs and the hug gets tighter as he joins in.

“Assholes. Every single one of you.”

“Dude don’t ruin it.” Steve says as he sighs.

When you all pull back Steve and Chrissy leave. You put on the same David Lee Roth cd from earlier. You start to dance around a bit, thinking you’re alone in the store. But then you hear singing and you turn around to see Eddie pretending to sing with the broom. You laugh.

“Seriously?”

“What you don’t like my moves?” Eddie shakes his hips, his chains on his jeans smacking the pole of the broom.

“Nerd.” You roll your eyes and grin taking the cash back into Jim’s office and Eddie follows.

“Look at assistant manager.” He smirks and sweeps a bit.

As you sit in the chair it does feel amazing. Eddie knows you’d love to be assistant manager here. This store is your everything. His everything.

“He didn’t say that.”

“But it feels like he will. You know you’re his favorite.” Eddie grins.

“Yeah well,” you place the cash into the cash pouch and start writing down the checks in the manager’s journal. “If he does, maybe it won’t be so different. I’d still be on the floor with you guys.

“We know.” He gives you a heart warming grin. “Maybe you wanna grab a bite? I was gonna get a pizza. Don’t have much lying around at home right now.”

You don’t answer him. You can’t. Not when your heart skips a beat, not when you place the cash pouch into the bottom left drawer and see the orange paper lying there. You lift it and read.

“Uh.. you okay?” He stops sweeping and grows concerned for you.

“It’s the store..” You shake your head and Eddie walks around the desk, taking the paper as he sees you biting your lip nervously. He gently grips your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you as he reads. You can his eyebrows sink more and more.

To Jim Hopper,

Empire Records is due to purchase for Nine Thousand Dollars by June 1, 1989. If you fail to meet the deadline, your contract of ownership will expire. I will more than happy to convert the store on behalf of the American Society of Language and Literature. A new environment for educational purposes and more family friendly activities aside from the provocative musical acts it promotes now.

Best of Luck, Larry Bassinger.

“Who the hell is Larry Bassinger?” Eddie squints as he tosses the paper onto the desk.

“I don’t know.” You look at Eddie. “But the first is just 8 days away.”

Eddie shakes his head. “Screw that, he’s full of shit. He can’t buy Empire, this is our store. It’s Jim’s store!”

“Eddie.” You shake your head and stand. “Calm down. We can’t let anyone know we saw this.. not yet.”

Eddie rakes a hand through his hair, his dark curls bouncing as he starts to pace the small office. “How the hell am I supposed to calm down? Some stranger is swooping in to take the one place in this town that doesn’t suck, and we’re just supposed to sit on this?”

You grab his arm, forcing him to stop. “We don’t know anything for sure, okay? This could be a scare tactic or… or even a mistake. But if we start running our mouths everyone else will start panicking too.“

Eddie picks up the paper from the desk again, his eyes scanning it one more time. “Eight days. We don’t have much time.”

“We’ll figure this out okay? But I need you to not lose your mind. Jim trusts us okay? We have to trust him too.”

“We can’t sit by and watch him face this alone either.”

“And we won’t.” You nod and look into Eddie’s eyes. That tinge of fear behind all of his anger. Empire’s home to all of you, and it scares him that he could be losing another important part of himself. It scares you even more, knowing this could hurt Eddie. How badly it’s hurting you. But you know that you have to be strong in the moment, so you take his hand.

“But tonight you rest. Let’s go eat like you said and we will figure this out tomorrow. Okay?”

He nods and relaxes, lacing his fingers with yours. You put the paper back in the drawer and you both close the store, driving off to get dinner. It’s a quiet ride. You can’t help but think about Empire. How your own paradise, your own home, could be going away for good.

It lingers in your mind while you’re eating, when Eddie drops you off, when you shower, when you lie in bed. It takes you ages to fall asleep but you do, in hopes that tomorrow, you’ll be able to figure out some way to save the store.

[beastofburdenxo]

Awakening: Hypothermia part 2

here it is, the much-awaited part 2! Emmett realizes what he did in his sleep, how will he fix this?

2.8k words. MINORS DNI tags: fingering, first time, p in v sex, unprotected sex, first orgasm(?) Praise, language

Emmett stirs in his sleep, his heart pounding. “Oh no, did I dream again?” he wonders to himself. Feeling the front of his pants, he has his answer. “Shit.” He turns back towards you, hoping he didn’t disturb you, putting his arms back around you. He notices you slightly shaking, you can’t possibly be cold. He's right by your side, then he notices that your pants are gone. Your panties are all bunched up, slightly damp in the back. “Oh god, what did I do? Did I hurt you?” He sits up in bed, pondering if he should flee when you turn towards him. “Emmett, you awake?” you mutter in the darkness feeling him move. He's speechless, hoping that he didn’t do what deep down he knows he did. Hoping that you are innocent and clueless to his inappropriate behavior. “Emmett, talk to me. I know happened.” Emmett feels like he’s about to be sick at your words, his worst nightmare coming true. You grab his shoulders, knowing he’s going to want to bolt. “I’m not mad Emmett, you were asleep, had no idea what you were doing.” His chest feels like it’s going to collapse in on itself. “Did I hurt you? Did I-”  

“No Emmett, you didn’t hurt me I’m fine.” you assure him, “Nothing big happened, you just moaned a little in my ear and...” You trailed off, suddenly embarrassed at what you were about to disclose to him. Emmett put his head in his hands, “And what? What else happened?” You clear your throat, how do you put this politely? “Umm, well, you kind of humped me a little. Held me tight to you and uhm,” you stuttered this last part, “Groped a bit, and you sorta, used me to get off.” Emmett made an angry sound, “Damn it, I'm so sorry. I understand if you can’t stand to be around me anymore. I'm an animal. Over here having wet dreams about my dead friend’s daughter. Rutting against you like a pig.” You shush his displeasure, “I don’t think any less of you Emmett, you can’t control what your body does when you're asleep.” Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “And besides I didn’t hate it. It's the closest a man has ever gotten to me.” Silence fills the room as Emmett digests this information. “What?” you feel his eyes on you, “You enjoyed it? Enjoyed pretty much being molested by a man twice your age?” Your face reddens in the dark. “It felt kind of good honestly, I didn’t want you to stop.” You curse yourself at letting this secret loose.  

“Well, I'm glad I stopped when I did. Hope you got your fill, because this will not happen again. I knew this whole thing was a bad idea.” He turns away, stoney and cold towards you. Silly little tears fill your eyes, you didn’t want Emmett to be upset. You should have kept your mouth shut. “Little girl doesn’t know what she’s saying,” Emmett thinks to himself, “She enjoyed it? The fuck? I used her and she liked it?” He rubs his eyes, “She enjoyed it because it’s all she’s ever had. You are all she’s ever had.” A small voice in the back of his head tells him, “Poor thing doesn’t know any better. Show her there is better to be had.” If he could shut the voice off, he would, “No, it’s wrong. She’s too young. I literally watched her grow up.” “And now she is grown,” the voice replies, “She is an adult Emmett, a poor sexually deprived and innocent woman. Listen, you made her cry.” In the silence he hears your sniffling. “Dammit, I didn’t want to upset her. How do I make this right?” He turns back towards you, nervous that you would blow up in his face. “Hey,” he whispers, “Don’t cry. I'm not mad at you. I'm mad at myself, you did nothing wrong.” His warm hand caresses your shoulder. “Look at me, please.” You refuse. “Come here, hey, come here, don’t cry.” His arms snake back around you. “Hey now, don’t cry sweetheart. I’m sorry I upset you.” 

He makes you turn towards him, his blue eyes dark with concern. “Let’s forget this ever happened, okay? I don’t like seeing you like this.” His thumbs wiping away your tears. “it’s over and done with, water under the bridge alright?” You finally meet his gaze, “I won’t be able to forget, and you won’t either. I don’t want to forget.” With shaking hands, you reach for his beard and try to pull him closer. “No, no, stop sweetie. You’re confused. You really don’t want to do this. Let's just go back to sleep, okay?” With a new determination in your eyes you reply, “You said my name in your sleep, I heard it. Deep down you want this as much as I do.” Your lips are now ghosting over Emmett’s, just waiting for one of you to make up for the distance. “Emmett,” you whisper against his lips, “It’s okay Emmett, please. I trust you. Emmett.” In an instant your lips finally meet, not knowing who finally broke resolve. His lips are soft and tender against yours, not trying anything further. Nice and gentle, like he’s second guessing himself. He holds your face, eyes studying you, like he’s looking for any sign of hesitation. “Are you sure? We can stop right here, no pressure at all.” You put your lips on him, back where they were as your answer. The kiss deepens, his grip on you tightens. You breathe each other in like you were the last source of oxygen. He moves down to your neck, sucking softly on your skin. “I can feel your pulse,” he chuckles, “Excited, are we?” you avert your gaze in embarrassment. “It’s alright sweetheart, mine is the same way. I've wanted this for so long, you have no idea.” Emmett whispers in your ear.  

You reach behind you to undo your bra, but Emmett stops you, “Let me.” In one fluid motion, his rough strong hand has the clasp undone, slowly pulling it off your body. Eye contact is not wavering the whole time, like he’s making sure you’re okay. Half of you is completely exposed to him now, your skin slightly pink with nerves. “You are so beautiful, you know that?” His words just deepen the flush. He bends down to explore this new exposed flesh; your hands automatically go to his hair. Like you're using his scalp to ground yourself, this is not some naughty thought or dream, this is real and now. Emmett takes his time, no need to rush this. His warm mouth finds your unguarded nipple, and you jolt in surprise. He looks up from his work, slight grin on his face, “You good? Not used to that are you?” You lightly slap him upside his head, “No I’m not, but it feels nice. Keep going Emmett.” You don’t have to tell him twice. While his mouth is on one nipple, his hand is working on the other. Eventually trading up. The familiar feeling of suspense returns, like when you were all defenseless against him rutting up against you. But this time, you knew there weren’t going to be any interruptions. You both are panting; he can feel your thighs clench around his waist from being wrapped around him. His hands go to your waistband of your pants. Looking up at you he asks, “Would you like these to come off?”  

Shakily with desire you respond, “Yes, please.” Emmett softly moans at that response, “So polite.” He removes your legs from around him stretching them out straight. With his electric blue eyes on yours, his hands grab your hips, “Up for me sweetheart.” You oblige him, raising your hips to get your pants off easier. He slowly pushes them down, panties with them, eye contact never wavering. “Breathe, it’s okay. You are doing so good.” Goosebumps hit your exposed skin as the fabric is slowly removed from your legs. Part of you wants to just yank them off in frustration at his extremely slow movements, but you don’t. Emmett wants to do this right, knowing your inexperience. Finally, after what feels like forever, you are completely naked in front of him. You want to curl up in a ball, not used to being naked in front of anyone, much less a man. Emmett slowly strokes your exposed legs, “Are you okay?” he asks you. You nod in response, but that’s not good enough for Emmett. He lies down next to you, hand going to your cheek. “Are you okay with this?” he asks again, “I need to hear that you are okay.” You softly grab his hand that is on your face and kiss it, “I’m okay Emmett, just feeling a little exposed right now. It's not fair that I'm the only naked one here.” He smiles at that, running his hand up your thigh, “This is all about you right now, we’ll get to me later.”  

A shaky breath leaves your lips as you realize just how high Emmett’s hand is on your leg. Creeping closer and closer to where you both want him to be. He kisses you deeply again, gently climbing on top of you, his knee between your legs. “Can I look at you baby?” Your eyes get big at knowing what he wants. “I won’t touch unless you let me. Can I see just how pretty my girl is?” You gulp, wanting to please him but still skittish. “Breathe Babygirl, let me see you.” Time stands still as Emmett waits for your answer, not daring to go forward without your consent, still rubbing your legs. Finally, you decide to let him look. “Okay,” you whisper, “Go ahead, I just hope it’s what you're expecting.” Emmett kisses both knees as he gently pulls them apart, exposing you fully to him. His normally crystal-clear eyes turn muddy with lust, “Oh my sweetheart, it’s what I expected and so much more. You are so stunning and..” he comes back up to your face, “And so very wet for me. Just how I want you to be. Perfect.” You turn away from his words, trying to hide your face with your hands. Emmett is not having that, taking your hands in his, “it’s true, don’t hide from me. Get used to me talking like this, because I will every day until you quit shying from it. So pink and dripping for me baby, so pretty and small. Can I touch you baby? I won’t enter I promise, just let me feel.”  

At his words, you feel your body respond even more. Not knowing that it’s possible to be this wet just from his explicit compliments. All you want is Emmett to touch you, anywhere and everywhere. You take his hand in yours, finally doing what you thought about earlier when he was asleep. His warm hand finally reaches its destination. Both of you moan as his fingers explore your warm folds. “There you are beautiful, is this okay?” His index finger finds your clit, slowly rubbing, eye contact never wavering. “Emmett yes.” you manage to choke out, pleasure building at his movements. “I’m okay with one finger if you want to.” He kisses your neck in response, “Are you sure? Don't let me hurt you.” Watching your pleasure ridden face, He slowly enters one digit inside you. You are so wet it doesn’t hurt, just feels unusual having something inside. “Oh baby, you are so tight.” Emmett groans, “So warm for me, you are doing so good at taking my fingers.” In and out his finger goes, watching you the whole time. Emmett loves that he is the one who makes you feel so good. “More,” you cry out, “Please add another finger.” Your request is driving Emmett crazy, “Only because you asked so nicely sweetheart. Tell me if it is too much.” 

Emmett feels like his dick is going to explode any minute as another finger goes inside you. You are doing so good for him, accepting the second digit without much protest. Your thighs begin to shake. “Breathe sweetheart, don’t forget to breathe. I know that feels so good, doesn’t it? Two fingers inside you while my thumb is rubbing that little clit of yours, yeah?” Your voice goes out on you wanting to answer him. That familiar feeling that you had when he had you pinned on your stomach slowly returns. You just hope and pray that it happens this time. “Oh yes, you are so close I can see it in your eyes. Come for me baby, let it go. I’ll take care of you this time. I got you.” Emmett raises you up and holds you close as you orgasm for the first time ever. You cry his name repeatedly into his shoulder, body limp and trembling in his arms as he takes you through it. “There it is, there you go. Yes, good job sweetheart.” he coos, silent tears of relief slide down your cheeks. You wipe them away before he notices, not to worry him. He gently puts you down on the bed again, inhaling your remaining whimpers and moans. One hand goes down to unbutton his pants, finally freeing himself. He sighs in relief. You look down and notice what’s happening as your high starts to fade. “Shhh, I was just uncomfortable is all. Nothing is happening without your say so.”  

“Can I touch you?” you ask him. Curious as to how he feels. “If you want to,” he answers, “But remember, this is about you.” You kiss him passionately as you reach down, fingertips lightly grazing his dick. You feel him twitch at that slight touch. “it’s okay, it does that sometimes. Your hand is so soft, sweetheart. You can grab, it doesn’t bite.” Emmett guides your hand around him. He's so thick you can barely get your hand around it. “Oh, this soft skin is going to be the death of me.” he moans as you slowly start to stroke him. “I don’t know how much more I can take; I want to be inside you so bad.” Between kisses, you stop stroking him and pull him back on top of you, “I want you too, Emmett.” He grabs his dick, sliding it between your folds, “Are you sure? This might still hurt even though I tried to stretch you.” Your eyes close at the feeling of your clit being touched again, “I know, it’s okay. Just go slow.” Emmett’s forehead touches yours, eye contact steady as he lines himself up to your entrance. “This can stop anytime you want it to. Don't lie there and let me hurt you.” You feel the head slowly entering you, as Emmett tries to distract you with kisses. At first you just feel really full, nothing too bad. And then it’s like he hit a wall, your body refusing him any further. You start to whimper in pain, “Shhh, it’s okay. I'm almost all the way in sweetheart. You are doing such a good job” His hand goes back to stroke your clit, “Easy there, that’s it, you can do it. Focus on the pleasure baby, not the pain. It'll go away soon.” And it does, your body responding to his touches, it lets him through. “Oh fuck,” he grunts, “There it is honey, I'm in. Oh, you feel so good. Are you okay?”  

You grab onto his shoulders at the massive intrusion. “Yeah, I'm alright. Just move please, it’s starting to hurt again.” With a deep kiss, he slowly starts to move. Your hands go back to his hair as he continues to talk to you, “Breathe, don’t hold it in. Oh, this is better than I could have ever imagined, you feel so good around me. Oh shit, so tight baby. Just for me huh?” Emmett gets a good rhythm going in and out at just the right speed, sending you to heaven again. “Yes, just for you Emmett,” you manage to squeak into his ear, “Just for you.” At hearing your confession, his hips start to move sloppy. “Oh sweetheart, I can’t last much longer. It's been so long. You just feel too damn good.” Your nails start to dig in his back at the pleasure. “it’s okay, come for me baby, come for me.” you moan. Emmett buries his face in your shoulder, your name coming out of his mouth like a chant. That familiar growl unleashes from his throat as he finally hits his peak, quickly pulling out of you and spilling on your thighs. “Oh yes, like that.” he mutters to no one in particular, “Look so good covered in me.” You shakily sit up and pull him into a kiss, leaning on him as you have no strength left. “Are you alright baby?” he asks. “I’m perfect,” you answer, “That couldn’t have possibly gone better.”  

With a tired chuckle Emmett responds, “Let’s just not wait for another freezing night to do that again, okay?”  

“Okay I'll give you 20 minutes.”

[xoxorealitygalore]

Grown Woman

Tama Tonga x Black OC

Summary: 30-year-old Tahiry has always been seen as a baby and underestimated by those around her. When tragedy strikes and her best friend passes away, Tahiry is suddenly thrust into the role of legal guardian for her young goddaughter, Harmony. As she navigates the challenges of motherhood and responsibility, Tahiry begins to transform into a woman of depth and resilience. Yet, it’s only Tama, who truly notices the changes in her.

I'm a grown woman (Yeah, I'm a grown woman)

I can do whatever I want (I can do whatever I want, hey)

I can be bad if I want (Mhm)

I can do wrong if I want (Mhm)

I can live fast if I want (Mhm)

I can go slow all night long (Mhm)

I'm a grown woman

tahirytravis ✓

1,325 Posts 6.6M Followers 110 Following

Tahiry Travis

Just being me 💓

Liked by trinity_fatu, uceyjucey, jonathanfatu, and 477,246 others

tahirytravis Dear Masika, it’s been two months since you left this earth, and not a day goes by that I don’t think about you. The world feels so different without your laughter, your light, your love. But in the midst of the grief, I find comfort knowing I get to help raise the beautiful little girl you brought into this world. She carries so much of you in her—your smile, your strength, your heart. I promise you, I’ll love her like my own, and I’ll make sure she grows up knowing just how special her mama was. I miss you more than words can say, but I’m here, Masika. I’ll keep going, for you, for her, and for all the memories we shared. Love you forever. ❤️

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Two months had passed since the heart-wrenching day Tahiry buried her best friend, Masika. The funeral was a blur—raw emotion, the sharp sting of loss, and the overwhelming sense that nothing would ever be the same. Masika had been her closest confidante, her partner in crime, the person who understood Tahiry like no one else.

The suddenness of her passing left a void that nothing seemed capable of filling. It wasn’t just the absence of a friend; it was the absence of a promise that had always been there—shared dreams, mutual support, the plans they had made for the future.

And now, in a cruel twist of fate, that future was no longer possible. But amidst the sorrow, another responsibility had fallen squarely on Tahiry’s shoulders—one she hadn’t been prepared for: she was now the legal guardian of Masika’s daughter, her Goddaughter, Harmony.

As she looked at the young girl—only three years old—Tahiry saw not just the innocence of a child, but the weight of the promise she had made to Masika. She had promised her best friend she would take care of Harmony, and now, more than ever, that promise felt like an anchor around her neck. It was a responsibility Tahiry never imagined she would bear alone.

The transition had been difficult. Raising a child was a monumental task, especially when the child was grieving the loss of her mother. Tahiry wasn’t prepared for the sleepless nights, the tantrums, or the endless questioning from Harmony about why her mommy wasn’t coming back. She wasn’t prepared for the emotional rollercoaster that being a mother brought.

But she was standing strong.

Her mind was full of the “what-ifs,” of course. What if she wasn’t doing this right? What if she failed Masika, failed Harmony? What if she wasn’t enough for the child who depended on her now? But every time doubt crept in, she reminded herself of Masika’s wish—that Harmony be surrounded by people who loved her, people who would step in and give her the stability she needed. Tahiry had to be strong for Harmony, not just for her friend, but for herself too. The stakes were too high to fail.

But there was one thing that grated on her nerves—her family’s constant concern. Particularly her older sister, Takecia. Takecia had always been the protective one, the one who saw Tahiry as the baby of the family, no matter how old she was. Nine years older, Takecia had grown up watching over her younger sister, and despite Tahiry being a grown woman now, a successful professional in her own right, Takecia still saw her as the child she once was. Tahiry was tired of being treated like a child. She had responsibilities now. She had a life to manage, a job to do, and a child to care for. Why couldn’t her family see that?

This resentment bubbled under the surface, but Tahiry did her best to keep her frustration hidden. There were days when she just wanted to scream, to tell her family to stop treating her like a kid, to let her make her own decisions. But it wasn’t just Takecia. Everyone in her family seemed to want to "look out" for her, questioning her every move, making her feel like she was too young, too inexperienced, and too incapable of handling the heavy weight she had suddenly been given. Even her brother-in-law’s brothers felt the need to step in. She was the baby of the family, and to them, that meant she was still the child who needed protection.

Tahiry walked into the arena with Harmony, trying to focus on the task at hand. Today, she wasn’t just Tahiry—the grieving Godmother. She was Tahiry, Director of Sports and Entertainment Relations for WWE. A powerful position that required focus, strength, and a sense of professionalism that sometimes felt impossible to maintain when the emotional weight of life at home followed her every step. But today, she had to push everything aside, at least for a little while, and focus on her job.

"Come on, Harmony," she said as they made their way into the bustling arena, the sound of staff talking and the excitement of the SmackDown Live show vibrating through the air. Harmony waved excitedly at the crew as they passed by, her little face lighting up with joy. Tahiry smiled at the sight. It was moments like these—moments when she saw Harmony so carefree—that made all the pain, all the struggles, feel a little lighter. She couldn’t let her down.

Tahiry worked for WWE, and her role as Director of Sports and Entertainment Relations was demanding, to say the least. She was tasked with a wide range of responsibilities, from supporting talent to managing relationships with sports publicists, talent agents, and professional athletes. Her job often had her on the road, coordinating events, scouting new talent, and overseeing logistics for various activations and campaigns. It was a high-energy, high-profile job that demanded her full attention, but it also allowed her to be surrounded by some of the most influential people in sports and entertainment.

Today, however, was about booking talent for upcoming football games—an appearance that would keep her busy for the next few hours.

As they walked through the arena, Tahiry’s phone buzzed with a notification. She glanced at it quickly—just another reminder of how quickly things moved in her world. But then she noticed someone familiar walking towards them: Jonathan, her brother-in-law’s brother. Tahiry couldn’t help but mentally roll her eyes. She knew what was coming. Jonathan was always hovering, always making sure she was "taken care of." He had a tendency to treat her like a little sister in need of constant supervision, and tonight was no exception.

“Hey, Tahiry,” Jonathan said, his easy smile stretching across his face. “Hey, Harmony,” he said, bending down to scoop the young girl into his arms.

Tahiry knew what was coming next before he even said it. "Come on, the fam has a private locker room tonight."

“We’re fine sitting in catering, Jon,” she replied, trying to assert her independence.

Jonathan, as usual, ignored her wishes. He started walking away with Harmony in his arms, fully expecting Tahiry to follow.

And she did.

It wasn’t a matter of needing him to babysit; it was just easier to go along with it than argue. The locker room was set up for a few of the WWE superstars and their families, a space where they could relax before the show. When they arrived, Trinity, Sefa, and Jacob were already there, chatting casually as they prepared for the evening. Trinity was the first to spot Harmony.

"Harmony!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up as she stood to take the young girl from Jonathan’s arms. Harmony smiled brightly and hugged Trinity, clearly happy to be around the people who had become like family to her since her mother’s passing.

Tahiry walked into the room, trying to shake off the lingering tension from the encounter with Jonathan. “Hey,” she greeted everyone, placing her bags down. "I’m going to leave my stuff here for now. Got a lot of work to do tonight.”

Before she could even get settled, Jacob called out to her. "Hold on now, you gotta let us know where you're going."

"Seriously?" Tahiry sighed, rolling her eyes. "I’ll be in the gorilla or catering, working."

"We’re just looking out for you," Sefa said, the protective tone in his voice making her grit her teeth.

Tahiry bit her tongue. She was so tired of hearing that. "I know, I know," she muttered, kissing Harmony’s cheek before walking out of the locker room, her laptop and phone in hand.

Outside, she bumped into Tama—her biggest distraction. Tama, or Alipate as he was known outside of WWE, was a professional wrestler with a presence that made heads turn. Tall, imposing, and impossibly handsome, he was also someone who had captured Tahiry’s heart from the moment she met him. Despite their undeniable chemistry, Tahiry never acted on her feelings. Her family was too protective, too quick to judge anyone who got close to her. And Tama—despite his obvious interest in her—respected that boundary, even if it meant burying his feelings.

"Hey, Tahiry," he said, a smile spreading across his face when he saw her. “You look so pretty, I like your hair like this.”

Tahiry smiled, her heart doing a little flip. He always knew how to make her feel special, even with just a simple compliment. She had the biggest crush on him—one that she knew was pointless, given their circumstances. But that didn’t make it any easier to ignore.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice softening. “I actually need to talk to you about going to an appearance.”

Tama groaned but smiled. “Let me guess, a football game?”

“Exactly,” Tahiry said with a laugh. “I know you don’t like public appearances, but it’s part of your job.”

Tama sighed. "I’ll only do it if you come with me."

Tahiry laughed, surprised at his sudden proposal. “If that’s the only way to get you to do it, then I’ll go with you.”

"You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he said, although there was a warmth in his voice that made her believe he was genuinely grateful for her accepting his offer.

“No, I want to go,” Tahiry said. “Let’s do it.”

Before she could turn to go, Tama asked, his voice quieter now, “How are you doing?”

Tahiry’s face tightened. Two months had passed, but the grief was still raw. Her best friend—her sister in everything but blood—was gone. How was she supposed to answer that question? How could she explain the constant ache, the feeling of being pulled in a thousand different directions?

Tama must have sensed her distress. He pulled her into a gentle hug, his strong arms offering comfort she hadn’t realized she needed. She buried her face in his chest, letting herself be vulnerable for a moment. “I just miss her so much,” she whispered, her voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

Tama didn’t say anything at first. He just rubbed the back of her head, offering the kind of tenderness that Tahiry hadn’t allowed herself to feel in weeks. "Some days I’m great, and others just hit me like a ton of bricks," she confessed.

“I know it’s hard,” Tama murmured softly.

They stayed like that for a few more minutes, the noise of the arena fading into the background. For once, Tahiry allowed herself to be cared for, to be held.

Eventually, she pulled away, embarrassed by her emotional outburst. “Sorry for crying all over you,” she said, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Tama gave her a gentle smile. "You don’t have to apologize for crying. You can cry all over me anytime," he said, the sincerity in his voice comforting her in a way she hadn’t expected.

Tahiry smiled through her tears and nodded. They parted ways, and Tahiry returned to the locker room. Harmony was sitting on the floor, brushing Trinity’s hair while they waited for the show to begin.

“Oh, you’re finally back,” Trinity said with a grin. “I need you to do my makeup.”

Tahiry sighed, dropping her things on the table before going to Trinity’s side. As she worked, Sefa and Jacob’s voices echoed in the background.

"Why were you hugging Tama?" Sefa asked, clearly too curious for his own good.

Tahiry ignored him at first, focusing on the delicate art of makeup. But Sefa didn’t let it go.

“You heard me,” he pressed.

She finally answered, her voice tired but firm. “He asked me how I was doing, and I broke down. That’s why we were hugging.”

“Are you okay?” Trinity asked, her voice soft with concern.

Tahiry paused, looking at Harmony, who had fallen quiet, staring at an old video of her and Masika dancing in the living room. Harmony whispered, “I miss mommy.”

Tahiry quickly wrapped her arms around the little girl. “I miss her too,” she whispered back, holding Harmony close as the weight of her grief settled back onto her shoulders.

The world moved on, but Tahiry felt suspended in time, torn between the life she was building for herself and the memories of the life that had been taken too soon.

Tahiry’s house was a place that once felt like her sanctuary, a private space where she could unwind after a long day, away from the noise and chaos of the world. But today, the quiet had been replaced by a steady hum of voices, laughter, and the clatter of pots and pans.

She stepped into the kitchen, a little annoyed, to find it already overtaken. Her sister, Takecia, was talking animatedly to her husband, Joshua, who was rummaging through the fridge as if it were his own. Her nephew, Jeyce, was lounging on the couch in the living room, engrossed in his game console, and her goddaughter, Harmony, just three years old, was playing in the corner of the room with her toys.

The house had become an extension of Takecia’s family, and at this moment, Tahiry wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

“You need to go grocery shopping,” Joshua said, his voice light but filled with the hint of authority as he reached for a jar of peanut butter. His tone suggested that this had become a routine request, one that Tahiry had come to dread.

Tahiry folded her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes, glancing at the half-empty shelves of her fridge. “I wouldn’t have to if you and everyone else didn’t come here damn near every day eating my shit up,” she retorted, her voice tinged with frustration.

Joshua just giggled at her, clearly amused by her irritation. He was used to it. “Instacart some groceries and I’ll pay for it,” he offered, flashing a grin over his shoulder.

Tahiry gave him a side-eye, not entirely trusting his offer. “Remember you said that,” she warned, her fingers already tapping on her phone as she pulled up the Instacart app. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the available options.

The tension was brief, but Takecia, always quick to stir the pot, couldn’t resist joining in. “So... what’s this I hear about Tama being a little extra friendly with you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow as she leaned against the counter. “You know he’s twelve years older than you.”

Tahiry’s immediate response was a simple roll of the eyes, her body stiffening in a defensive posture. “And?” she asked, a challenging edge to her voice.

Takecia pursed her lips and shook her head. “You don’t need to be getting involved with someone that old,” she said, her voice laced with concern, though it was clear she didn’t fully understand the dynamic.

Tahiry didn’t hesitate. “I can do whatever I want,” she shot back, clearly irritated by her sister’s unsolicited opinion.

Before Takecia could respond, Joshua piped in, trying to ease the tension, but also to reinforce Takecia’s concerns. “Nah, you can’t. I don’t want him trying to take advantage of you, Tahiry,” he said gently. “You’ve already got enough on your plate.”

Takecia nodded in agreement. “Exactly,” she added, her gaze softening. “You’re too young for him anyway.”

Tahiry’s expression hardened. “I’m thirty years old,” she said firmly, her voice steady. “I’m old enough to make my own choices, and if I want to deal with a man twelve years older than me, then I’ll do just that.”

“Yeah, but we’re just worried about you,” Joshua said, his tone still gentle but filled with concern. “You don’t need anyone adding more stress to your life.”

Tahiry shook her head, feeling the familiar weight of their protective instincts pressing down on her. She opened the Instacart app once more, but before she could ask Joshua for his credit card to pay for the groceries, she turned back to face them. “You guys are so hard-headed,” she muttered, trying to let the irritation roll off her shoulders.

Takecia let out an exasperated sigh, clearly fed up with the constant back-and-forth. “You never want to listen to me,” she said, her voice soft but full of frustration.

Tahiry’s laugh was bitter. “Because you think I’m still five years old and not a grown woman,” she snapped. “Why would I listen to you when you don’t listen to me?”

The conversation paused in the heavy silence that followed, and it was in that moment, just as Tahiry was about to relent and give Joshua the credit card details, that Harmony’s small, trembling voice broke through.

“I want mommy,” Harmony cried, her face scrunched up in distress, and her little body quivering as she ran toward Tahiry, her arms reaching out for comfort.

Tahiry instinctively crouched down, opening her arms to scoop the little girl into her embrace. “What’s wrong, baby girl?” she asked softly, brushing a tear from the child’s cheek.

“Mommy,” Harmony whimpered, her tiny voice breaking as the pain of her mother’s loss resurfaced. Tahiry’s heart twisted painfully as she held the child, knowing full well the profound grief that still gripped Harmony’s young heart.

Masika’s death had shattered the little girl’s world. Two months had passed, and still, Harmony couldn’t fully understand why her mother wasn’t there to tuck her into bed at night, or why she couldn’t feel her warm embrace. Tahiry had always been the one to step in, trying her best to offer the love and stability that Harmony desperately needed. But it wasn’t the same, not even close.

Tahiry kissed Harmony’s temple, trying to soothe the little girl’s aching soul, though her own heart ached just as much. She, too, was still in denial, clinging to the hope that Masika would walk through the door one day, telling them it was all some sort of cruel test. But Masika wouldn’t be walking through that door. The reality was a hard pill to swallow, and each day felt like an insurmountable challenge for everyone in the house, especially for Harmony.

Takecia watched the scene unfold with a deep, quiet sympathy. She understood the pain her younger sister was carrying, even if she didn’t fully know how to help her heal. Losing Masika had been a blow to them all, but for Harmony, it was like losing a piece of herself. Takecia’s gaze softened as she looked at the two women—her sister and her niece—clinging to each other in a bond that felt fragile, like a single thread holding them together.

Tahiry murmured to Harmony, trying to find some comfort in the words she had said to the child before, something that had helped her through difficult moments. “Remember what I said about missing mommy?” she asked gently.

Harmony nodded, wiping her tears. “She’s in my heart,” she whispered, her voice soft as if testing the words, still unsure of their meaning.

“That’s right,” Tahiry confirmed, nodding as she held Harmony even tighter. “She’s in your heart. Every time your heart beats, that’s a little part of her reminding you that she’s with you.”

Takecia couldn’t help it. The tears that had been welling up for weeks now finally broke free, spilling down her face as she witnessed the raw grief of her little sister. She sniffled and wiped her eyes, trying to stifle the sob that threatened to escape. Joshua, who had been standing silently by, moved to take his wife into his arms. He knew that, despite her tough exterior, Takecia’s heart was breaking for her sister, just as his was.

Jeyce wandered into the room, his face lit up with the energy of a typical 12-year-old boy. He noticed Harmony’s tear-streaked face immediately, and without hesitation, he reached for her, taking her gently into his arms. “Come on, Harmony,” he said softly. “I’ll let you play the game with me.”

Harmony sniffled, but the prospect of playing a video game with her older cousin was enough to pull her from her sorrow, at least temporarily. She nodded eagerly, wrapping her arms around Jeyce’s neck as he carefully carried her to the living room.

Tahiry watched them go, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. “He would make a great big brother,” she murmured, her tone light but filled with warmth. “Y’all should give him a little sibling.”

Joshua and Takecia both groaned in unison. “This factory is closed and out of business,” Takecia quipped, rolling her eyes dramatically.

Tahiry chuckled softly, her own grief momentarily pushed aside by the banter. She wiped the stray tears from her eyes, the warmth of the moment a brief respite from the emotional storm that raged within her.

Just as she thought the moment of calm would last, her phone lit up with a new message notification. She glanced down at the screen and saw a text from Tama. ‘Hey, how are you? I was wondering if I could pick you up for the game tomorrow.’ Her heart skipped a beat, and she couldn’t help but smile at the simplicity of his words.

Joshua noticed the smile creeping onto her face, and his brows furrowed in suspicion. “Who’s texting you?” he asked, his voice laced with an edge of protectiveness.

“Your daddy,” Tahiry answered quickly, not bothering to hide her amusement.

Joshua’s eyes narrowed. “That better not be who I think it is,” he warned, his voice taking on a more serious tone.

Tahiry’s smile only grew wider. “And if it is?” she asked, not bothering to back down.

Joshua leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ll call Joe and them so quick to jump his ass,” he muttered under his breath, his protective instincts kicking in as usual.

Tahiry laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Oh my gosh,” she sighed, shaking her head. “You’re such a drama king.”

But even as the playful exchange continued, something lingered in the back of her mind. Tama’s message had stirred something within her, something she hadn’t fully allowed herself to acknowledge until now. There was a part of her that was ready to open her heart to Tama, even if the path forward was complicated, and she wasn’t sure where it would lead.

But for now, she allowed herself a moment of peace, wrapped in the comfort of her family, as chaotic and imperfect as it was.

[friendlyghost07]

Concept: tommyinnit in Gotham like those Peter in Gotham fics (specifically C!Tommy)

Just think about it. First off, the way C!Tommy is written in fics is rly similar to Andrew Garfield’s spiderman if he was aloud to cuss a lot and be British. So already we know the dynamic would work.

Plus, if you go with C!Tommy and not content creator Tommyinnit, then this is someone who knows nothing about the modern world. In Peter in Gotham fics his culture shock is the diff between hero society mostly, and Danny is usually still in the same universe he just moves towns, but Tommy?

Bro doesn’t know what a vigilante is. He knows what a hero is, but would he know about vigilantes? He’s never lived in a world where that was a possibility, so he’s probably never heard the word before, so the bats are just a new concept to him entirely.

And that’s not even touching him learning about modern technology. The technology in the dsmp is so fucked, there’s nukes, but they still use bows and arrows? Plus, their comms are the closest thing to a phone he’s ever seen.

I’m just picturing him entering the library like Peter does at the beginning of every fic, but instead of hacking a computer and high tailing it out of there he lingers, because he has no idea what he’s doing. He just nearly got ran over by a car, but he doesn’t know what a car is, so it seems like a good starting point. He avoids the computers bc “wtf r those block things?” And ask Barbara where “the redstone section is”. (Tommy assumes anything tech is redstone powered) and Barbara is confused bc redstone is a fictional made up thing by Minecraft. And thru this failed interaction Tommy is directed towards the computers, and fails to use one properly for the next hr. Barbara watches in shock, and immediately messages the GC about a “potential clone/alien/escaped lab rat situation”.

He doesn’t think to get a form of ID bc he’s never needed one, or get a job. Everyone always built their own places and lived there in Minecraft. So taxes and economy and working for money is something new he’s learning.

Also his unique trauma just giving the bats a headache, like what do you mean you fought in a national war at 9??? You gen believed ur brother was gonna make u president at 14, then he blew up said nation in front of you??? Tf is a HYBRID? Tim also fucking loosing it at their cracked technology in the SMP.

If someone were to do this my one ask is you add Tommy being scared of ppl with masks on. It makes him tense when he can’t look at someone’s facial expressions to see if they’re mad (thank you c!dream). So red hood’s helmet, and Batman’s clow just fucks with him. At least hood has a domino mask underneath that makes Tommy feel better (not great, but better) but Batman will forever be untrusted until way later in the fic.

Tommy: I don’t have a good track record with brothers, or family in general.

Literally any of the batkids: neither do I.

queue bonding

[doiliedaze]

Thin Ice: part one

Hockey! Vi x reader

Warnings: none in this part

Genre: fluff, angst

A/N: okay!! so this is my attempt in starting a series about hockey Vi based on this dream I had months and the Sailor Song by Gigi Perez and Moments by MOIO okay so wish me luck!! also none of my fics are truly edited I just re-read them till I can’t and pray my grammar is good. Reader is kinda naive/one track minded and very insecure in this. I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT HOCKEY SO BARE WITH ME!!

2

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I’ve been skating since I was a little girl. It was the only place I could call home. Skating was the only place I was finally the smartest and brightest in the room since I was perceived otherwise academically…and I do lack a bit in the common sense area.

They say there’s a zone we enter when we’re aligning our energy with the activity we love. My alignment is when I soar through the air, or just don’t fall flat on my ass. I was heading to the rink when I was stopped.

“What are you doing here cupcake?”

When my eyes focus on her I was taken aback as I try to quickly study her. Why was my roommate here? “You know I practice here.” I state as I lace up.

She chuckled as she looks me up in down. I’m in a black bodysuit covered by a pink skirt and leg warmers over my matching pink skates, my coily hair put into a bun by a bow. “The practice is reserved for the hockey team. Did you not see the schedule posted outside?” She says with a small smile, I tilt my head “they changed the schedule?” Her smile flatters a bit and twitches as she points to the wall. I make an “o” shape with my mouth putting the pieces together. She pats my shoulders and skates away. In reparations of me fucking up I stay and watch.

Our college; Piltover university offers an array of extracurricular activities and in my three years of being here I’ve never known of this damn schedule changing!

Number 6, is an interesting player and my roommate. She brings an obvious aggression that the sport needs but she’s so swift and fast. I don’t know much about hockey but I do know she just scored so I might as well cheer for her right? Wrong! Getting stared at with the small but big enough snickers for me was enough to make me wanna to shrink and crawl into a hole and dissolve into a sunflower seed and sprout- well you get the point. This pushes me to attempt a swift exit.

When making my hurried exit she skates to the edge and whistles at me to get my attention. “Don’t leave, I appreciate having a personal cheerleader.” Her plump lips growing into a wolf-ish grin as she stares me down, always wanting a reaction. “Well I’m not a cheerleader I’m an ice skater! No disrespect to cheerleaders though I mean that takes a lot of courage, I know I could never-”

“It wasn’t a diss cupcake.” She stated before winking and skating away.

My face has never felt this hot before! Today is the day of utter shame and cruel unusual punishment. Now I have to figure out a new place to skate because I refuse to make the same mistake again…or read the time sheet next time who knows!

I make a routine out of avoiding the rink around 5-8 so I go during the wee hours of the morning. Kinda killing my sleeping schedule but hey pride am I right?

I don’t skate to be on a team, I prefer to be by myself and skate for me. It gets lonely sure but no one has ever supported me in doing this. All the slick comments of “oh why not be a majorette? On a step team? Why’d you stop stepping? You wanna be any race but black! Blah blah blah!” Don’t get me wrong those are beautiful activities in my culture but black girls can be everything and more at once. When I stepped it was fun and I could feel the unity but the feeling skating gave me made me feel like the most beautiful and the closest to my blackness. So when it came down to picking what I really wanted I chose skating, and been on my own since, because girls like me don’t belong here. Proving people wrong has been my biggest motivation, maybe I’m being a hard-ass but I don’t care; it feels good when I do it in the end.

This routine I was practicing was more than difficult…axels hate me and I hate axels but I’m trying to land a quadruple axel.

My mind relaxes as my chest thumps, today feels like the day…something I tell myself a lot. My momentum pushed as “Pearls” by Sade plays. I push off my left leg to project myself into the air. One…two…three…four-ish? My spin wasn’t complete and my landing was shaky, but I can try again. So I tried again and again! Frustrated I push myself, my skates cutting deep as I try to gain speed. Leaping into the air I spin one…two…three…four times! However I land flat on my ass. “Fuck!” I yell and I cover my face and I can’t control the wobble in my lip when I hear claps.

“And here I thought you were sneaking out to do something cool.” Vi states as she carefully glides over.

“I don’t need that right now.” I mutter, “company?” She lays on the ice with me.

Vi and I’s relationship is complicated. When we met in freshman year we hooked up then we ghosted each other. Sophomore year we both joined the literature club and gained a true friendship with a side of fucking whenever we’re both single. Now junior year I just feel distant with her.

She rubbed my cheek, “you don’t talk to me anymore.” I move from her touch…wishing I didn’t, I know reaching out is hard for her. “I’m sorry”

“Don’t be sorry do better” she stood up shoving her hands in her pockets. “C’mon we’re going out.” I know not to argue so I oblige.

“The library?” I scoff in a whisper, “we are English majors.” She nudges me with her shoulder and I nudge her back.

We find a cozy nook and read our respective books. The two of us haven’t hung out in so long. I didn’t realize how much I missed her. I take her book. “Hey!” She reaches over me. Her pale blue eyes stare into my dark brown eyes. A soft blush spreads over her freckled cheeks and her eyebrows soften. “I miss you” we both whisper then laugh. Vi moves from me and takes my hand.

I’ve never been the type of person to be comfortable around others, wanting to be apart of a team but with Vi…I want to try everything.

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A/N: im so excited to start this series!! I wanted to challenge myself and I hope you guys enjoy <3

(Dividers by @dollywons)