#i actually can't believe that i'm finally working on the last chapter of this

[aihoshiino]

chapter 166 thoughts

As of chapter 166, Oshi no Ko has finished a roughly four-and-a-half year run started back in 2020. While there's some speculation about an epilogue or some extra content in volume 16 when it drops, this is where the main story ends. And you know what that means!!!

OSHI NO KO HAS OFFICIALLY ENDED WITHOUT ADDRESSING OR ACKNOWLEDGING THE FACT THAT RUBY KISSED HER BROTHER IN CHAPTER 143

please understand that this is FUCKING BOGUS

I'll probably do a longer post on this subject specifically, but my main critique of 143 when the chapter dropped was that while I liked the individual beats in it and I was really glad to see Akasaka finally addressing this tension bubbling underneath Aqua and Ruby's relationship, the immediate swerve away from showing us the aftermath of that kiss felt to me like an admission that the story was going to needlessly draw this out even more. Now that the story has ended and we can see that moment had literally no impact on the plot or even the character dynamics, I'd like to revise that statement - it feels like an admission of compromise. It feels like crumbs thrown to AquRuby fans to tempt them to keep reading and to stir up the waters of the ship wars, so people would keep reading and stay invested in the manga right to the very end. But most of all, it feels deeply disrespectful to both Aqua and Ruby as characters. Rather than exploring their feelings and giving both of them interiority and complexity in relation to incest or even just fucking acknowledging that the kiss had happened and letting their dynamic evolve, the series just memory holes the entire event and asks that you do too. Rather than letting Ruby have any development whatsoever as pertains to that relationship or, god forbid, let a female character move on romantically from the male lead, the series ends with her feelings so up in the air that I literally could not tell you what she thinks of Aqua by the time he dies.

ANYWAY… FINAL CHAPTER. BREATHES OUT VERY HARD.

I really can't believe it's taken us until the final chapter to actually deal with Ruby's grief over Aqua lol. We got a snippet of it last chapter but it was so brief that it really just felt like a tease. I also just think it's kind of bizarre that we're spending this little time on Ruby having feelings about Aqua's death to the extent that I have no idea how or when she found out about it.

It's also kind of hard to feel particularly strongly about Ruby's grief when the chapter doesn't really bother to explore it all that much. It's just a montage of Ruby quite literally Screaming, Crying and Throwing Up while Akane dispassionately narrates it all. The art also doesn't really help in terms of connecting with the emotions at play - I usually really like Mengo's expression work and the way she depicts extreme emotions but this all just felt like of… I don't know how else to put it. Goofy??? Is that an insane thing to say about Ruby grieving her brother???

Idk, something about both the panelling and just the extreme on-the-noseness of Ruby, again, literally Screaming, Crying Throwing Up while she's wearing a Burning cosplay Just In Case You, The Audience, Didn't Get It only for her to abruptly be done crying with no exploration or insight as to what's going on in her head that allows her to move forward.

Honestly, this is kind of the issue with everyone in the cast. The resolution is just sort of "Aqua died and we were sad about it but then we stopped being sad". I know what the story is trying to go for here - it's trying to express that even when you're in pain, life goes on and so you have to find a way to go on with it. But the result is that we spend all this time oogling at their pain without spending equivalent or even meaningful time on their recovery process.

It feels both excessive and undercooked at the same time and I'm left with the same icky, voyeuristic feeling I got from Aqua's funeral last chapter. This should be the point in the story at which we empathize with Ruby the most, but she remains a frustratingly distant figure right to the final pages. Part of this is an unfortunate consequence of Akane's narration directing these final chapters meaning that we're hearing about Ruby from an outsider's perspective and thus don't really see what's going on in her head… but if I can be frank, this has been an issue of Aka's with Ruby in particular basically nonstop since chapter 123.

As others & myself have noted, despite the absolutely catastrophic downward spiral Ruby is in at that point, Aqua revealing himself as Gorou basically flips it all off like a switch. There's some mild lipservice paid to the idea that Ruby is just using her dependency on Gorou to prop herself up and it's pointed out that the issues that contributed to her breakdown haven't actually been resolved - but none of these issues are ever even acknowledged again, let alone resolved. So, functionally, that reveal does fix all Ruby's problems in the space of a single chapter and the result is, again, that we spend multiple chapters gourging on depictions of Ruby's absolute rock bottom only for her to ping back to normal like a lightswitch. As such, the depictions of her pain feel less like explorations of Ruby's interiority and more like voyeuristic oogling at Ruby's misery and trauma and the effect is that the resolution to it all is both unsatisfying and a little gross. The result is that it feels like Akasaka is just indulgently mining the imagery of cute girls suffering because it causes simple thoughts neuron activation but doesn't respect these girls enough as characters to build them back up.

It doesn't help that this is basically the in-universe excuse for Ruby's career further skyrocketing. Instead of Ruby becoming a star on her own merits as the story keeps insisting she was supposed to, she's artificially buoyed by the public's morbid fascination with her tragedy. If I was feeling charitable towards the story right now, I would say this is an avenue of intentional critique but… well, I don't feel super charitable about the story right now lol

I WILL say that the one part of this chapter I did just uncomplicatedly like was the beat of Mem trying to suspend activities (presumably in the wake of her grief for Aqua) only for Kana to basically immediately explode into her room and help her get back on her feet. It's a beat that would've been much more effective if we'd, you know, seen it, but I otherwise enjoyed it and I thought it was sweet.

But. pbbbbtttt. I guess I can't talk around it any longer… let's get into the Dome concert.

To start things off on the immediately worst note possible, Akane describes Ruby performing at the Dome as being 'everyone's dream', including Aqua's. I'm reminded once again of the strange turn the story took in insisting that um, actually, performing at the Dome was totes Ai's dream all along (even though she literally didn't give a shit even a week before she was due to perform there herself) so Ruby performing there is fulfilling that dream for her!!! and I can't help but wonder if this abrupt shift in focus is an attempt to make readers forget what Ai's actual dream was - to see her beloved children grow up happy and healthy. Hell, it wasn't even really Aqua's dream, until the story suddenly had to try and convince us that his entire purpose for existence was to kill himself so Ruby could be an idol for slightly longer than she would've otherwise. The only people whose dreams she's textually fulfilling are Ichigo and Miyako and Ruby herself, but…

Honestly, is this really Ruby's dream anymore?

Who is Hoshino Ruby? What does she want? Why does she want it? These should be the very least of what we can concretely say about not only a protagonist but a character who has become a central figure of the entire story as Ruby has, but with the way Oshi no Ko has warped and distorted her, I find myself increasingly unsure of what the story wants her to be or how I should answer those questions.What does Ruby feel about Aqua? Was she still in love with him? Had she moved on, romantically? Was she still waiting for a response to her confession? Did she finally realize it was probably kind of shitty to respond to her brother going "lowkey wanna kms" by sticking her tongue down his throat? I Guess We'll Never Know.

This extends to whatever the fuck Ruby's relationship with idols and being an idol is. Almost the entirety of Ruby's time in the story has been spent reiterating over and over that Ruby cannot just be an idol who imitates Ai and that to truly shine, she needs to step out of her mom's shadow and shine in her own way. Ruby even literally tells Kana in no uncertain terms in 137 - "I'll be a star in my own way. I won't be like Mama."

While this has always been the text of the story, as I've pointed out before, the actual art with which Ruby's idolhood depicts her basically just as Ai 2.0. It relies so heavily on mining the imagery of Ai's charisma and personality as an idol and using them as the measure of Ruby's success as an idol that Ruby essentially has no visual or conceptual identity of her own as an idol. She's just Ai, But Arbitrarily Better, For Reasons The Narrative Fails To Actually Establish But Hopes That You Just Accept Anyway. This was always kind of annoying, but now that friction seems to have been resolved by… just making her Ai 2.0, But Arbitrarily Better (etc, etc) in the text as well. The fact that we're given no further insight as to Ruby's feelings and continue to just have Akane Explain Ruby's Character Arc to the camera also doesn't help.

All this combines to make the Dome concert and the final few pages feel exceptionally cold in a way I really don't think was intended by Akasaka. Yes, that splash page was nice and flashy but… I just felt nothing. I have no idea if or why Ruby cares about this. And even though the Dome concert has been hyped up through the entire story as the peak of Ruby's achievements as an idol, I feel no sense of accomplishment in her finally being there - not just because her journey to it was basically sneezed at us across two panels, but because it just feels hollow as a victory lap for Ruby. Again, she feels so distant and abstracted as a character that I can't bring myself to feel very strongly about her good or bad.

I think the perfect encapsulation of this are the final four pages of the story. Ruby's words here are very clearly intended to be a callback to Ai's words to Gorou in chapter one but as @all-of-her-light pointed out in our initial discussions of the chapter, Ruby very much does not have an equivalent to Ai's conclusion that she nevertheless wants and values the opportunity to find personal happiness and fulfillment outside of being an idol. Are we supposed to believe that simply being an idol is all that Ruby needs to achieve a similar degree of happiness and fulfillment? Is there no more to her than that?

I've seen a lot of people interpret this ending as exceptionally bleak and, as usual, gleefully predicting Ruby's immanent suicide because her beloved oniichansensei isn't around but this is indulging in, if you'll allow me to be frank, some pretty transparently ship-motivated flanderization. Despite what certain sections of the fandom would like to believe, Aqua and Ruby's lives, past and current, have never revolved around each other to the exclusion of every other relationship in their life. Ruby has a massive support network of people who love and care for her and actively want her to get back on her feet. I can one hundred percent believe that she does not need Aqua in her life to be happy and content.

The issue is that we don't see enough of Ruby to understand that ourselves. Again, she has become such a distant figure with so little insight into what she's thinking and why that this ending is basically a Rorschach test in which you can interpret basically whatever the hell you want or assume because we have so little canon basis to support or debunk our assumptions.

and yes. don't think i didn't see them. it IS both grimly hilarious and weirdly tonally appropriate for this ending that ruby has a bunch of oshi goods of ai and aqua including their fucking autographs set up to say goodbye to every day.

AND…… WE'RE DONE!!! THAT'S OSHI NO KO, BABY!!!! well, technically, there's going to be a 20 page extra chapter in volume 16 but I don't see it being big or substantive enough to meaningfully change my feelings about the ending so… I guess we're leaving it here. Damn. Feels crazy to be done with it.

I'll probably do a bigger post down the line about my thoughts on the ending as a whole but in terms of just How This Chapter Made Me feel, I guess the word is just… meh! It's definitely not an ending I like and I think the execution is sloppy and rushed but I also just don't really have the energy to feel angry about it. Maybe that's sad in its own way but tbh… I still really love Oshi no Ko! I still find it engaging and I find the characters I enjoy rewarding to talk about. I like the artistry of the anime adaptation. I don't blame anybody else for being so turned off by this ending that they're done with the series but for me, I like what I like about OnK too much that this ending could retroactively ruin it for me. Whatever else happens with the OnK franchise, whatever directions the anime and live-action take, this will always be the series that gave me Ai and the Hoshino family and. look at me. look at what she's done to my brain. could I really ask for anything more than that?

That being said, I'm definitely not done with discussing the series! I have fics to write (including a VERY exciting large scale project lined up with some friends), my Ai analysis post to finish and I also want to do a re-read of the series and finish my anime rewatch. I'll be here to discuss Oshi no Ko as long as I have things to say about it and as long as you guys will have me! Despite how the series ended, I've had a genuinely wonderful experience in the fandom and I really don't want to let go of the little community we've built together just because the series is done. I'm Ai's fan for all eternity!!!

[gia-d]

Back in October last year, I started reading This is an Adjuration by @not-freyja.

By the time I had made it to chapter 5, I had already started typesetting this story as I read because I knew this would be one of those stories that I needed to have on my shelf.

When I finally caught up to the story at chapter 31, I begged the author to let me bind this when it was finished.

Nearly a year later, and what is probably the most important bind of my life is finally finished. Check out these glamour shots, and if you want to hear more about the actual binding process and about how this fic actually changed my life, see below.

So funny story, before I get into the technical side of this bind, but this fic actually changed my life. Not as in I was greatly emotionally moved by the story, though don't get me wrong I absolutely was, but genuinely this fic introduced me to some of the best people I have ever had to privilege of knowing (Hello Class, you know who you are 🩷), and also, it introduced me to Freyja, the incredibly talented author, who, as I type this, is curled up in bed next to me fast asleep after flying half way around the world to go on a two week long date with me.

Moral of the story folks is comment on the fics you like. You might accidentally meet the love of your life on, and I can't believe I'm saying this, AO3.

Anyways, about the bind!

This bind was a challenge from day 1. I had to do the typeset for this 300k word fic 4 times, and had to split it across 2 volumes. This was the longest fic I have ever attempted to bind, and it was so thick I couldn't get it in the paper trimmer.

To make this book as durable as possible, I attempted a few techniques. I secured it with 3 tapes, I made an Oxford hollow, I rounded the spine, I made a slipcase and I used 2.3mm boards where normally I use 1.8mm.

The slipcase is covered with embossed faux leather, buckram and plain ribbon, and lined with gold satin fabric. I've never made a slipcase before so this was an experience.

The books are covered with an emerald green silk finish bookcloth which really gave the books the luxury they deserved. I foiled custom end papers as well as every chapter title page using heat reactive transfer foil on toner ink (never again I am never doing that again omg it took days). Huge thank you to @la-sera for letting me use her artwork which helped inspire this fic!

The grey flashback chapters I had to use HTV for the border decoration and I'm very happy with how that turned out because it was so easy and straight forward, unfortunately it just wasn't viable for the whole book.

It feels weird to finally have these books done. They have my blood, sweat, tears and my heart poured into them, and I've been working on them for so long that it's odd to actually have them finished. I'm so proud of this bind, and feel like I've grown so much as a fanbinder by making these.

Anyways, if anyone has any questions about the process, please don't hesitate to ask!

(and if you are an Linked Universe fan and haven't read Adjuration yet, this is your sign!)

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 7: It's Not A Date

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Soft Ben/ Soldier Boy.

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), sexism, swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

A/N: This chapter is just a little bit smaller than the others and it's a little bit of a filler, but I promise that it is preparing for the coming angst!

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

“I can’t believe you let him around those children. What were you thinking?” Annie asks wielding a curling iron like a sword. "He's a terrible influence!"

It was t-minus one hour and thirty minutes before the party started and Annie was doing your hair and makeup for the mission. Butcher decided that Ben and you would infiltrate and see if you could find anything suspicious inside, while Butcher, Frenchie, and Mm watched the streets outside the building.

Your chair was turned away from the scuffed vanity in Hughie's bedroom at the apartment the team shared. Why he had that you weren't sure, but you figured it must be for Annie. Her makeup bag, hair spray, gel, cream, curler, flat iron, and other paraphernalia was littering the soft butter colored top. There were more things sitting there than you knew the names of.

Annie had always been better at things like that than you. She'd done your hair and makeup for every high school dance and date you went on, so you'd agreed to let her do your hair and makeup for the mission. Not to mention you trusted her not to make you look too over the top or absolutely ridiculous.

As soon as she had gotten you into Hughie's bedroom she had practically pounced on you, demanding to know everything about the past few days that you had spent living in the apartment with Ben. You'd foolishly told her that you'd had to babysit the Wilson's children last night and she was horrified that you let them anywhere near him.

Granted you also would have had the same reaction if someone had told you that they had let Soldier Boy around little children.

But he wasn't terrible to them. You think to yourself. He was actually kind of sweet. It was the first time that you'd ever associate that word with Ben, but you believed that it was true. You remember how he sat with Marty at the kitchen table and allowed her to make a friendship bracelet for him. A bracelet, that he hadn't thrown away, despite what he'd told you after she gave it to him. You'd found it on the sink in the bathroom this morning when you got up, given a place of honor in the ceramic jewelry dish you used for your bracelets.

After Ben had gone out on his "date" you'd cleaned up, made your last cup of noodle, and then went to bed hoping to forget exactly what Ben was doing. The problem was that you were disappointed and you had no idea why. You'd tossed and turned thinking about Ben and the time you'd spent together watching the kids, until finally falling into an unsatisfying slumber.

Ben had sauntered through the front door at 3 am smelling like perfume and sweat, his hair tousled and standing up like someone had ran their fingers through it, while you were drinking a calming herbal tea from your favorite mug at the kitchen table in a post-nightmare haze. You'd had them your whole life following the accident that took the lives of your parents and was thankful that one hadn't hit when Ben was home. You didn't want to explain to him why you had woken up screaming and gasping for air just as you’d done since you were twelve years old.

When you'd first moved in to the apartment and you'd had the nightmare, Mike had banged against your front door, shouting for you to answer. He'd thought that someone was trying to kill you in the middle of the night, but you'd explained to him that you had nightmares and that you were okay.

The next time it happened, Mike's mother had left a large basket of herbal tea and homemade muffins outside the door of your apartment. Even though the muffins were almost inedible, it was incredibly sweet. You might not have wanted to date Mike, but he and his mother were some of the sweetest people you'd ever met.

When he saw you up, Ben had made a comment about you waiting up for him and stated that he was ready to go again if that's what you wanted, but you'd only waved your hand and rolled your eyes while taking another sip from the mug. You weren’t in the mood, not when you could still feel the chill of sweat against your skin and hear the sound of metal on concrete from the dream. He had sat at the table across from you and asked why you were still awake, you'd lied and told him that you couldn't sleep. You knew that he knew you were lying, but he only shrugged and went to take a shower while you finished your tea and fled to your bedroom to avoid him coming out in a towel again.

"He wouldn't leave. What was I supposed to do? Make him walk the plank?" You respond as Annie inserts the warm curling iron into your hair.

"He's just so-" She tugs your hair back as she curls it.

"It wasn't as bad as you think.” You consider thinking about how he let Martha make him a friendship bracelet and how he had held Joshua and made Joshua laugh. "He was actually kind of nice to Marty and to Josh.”

"Nice? Are you crazy! The guy's got a nuclear reactor in his chest and an uncontrollable temper. Why do you think it would be okay for him to be around children?”

"He didn't get angry or lose control. And I can't believe you're chastising me about this, the other day you were all for Ben and me sleeping together!"

"That wouldn't involve children." She takes another piece of your hair, gently wrapping it around the curling iron.

"Yeah, but it would still be him close to another human being-"

“He seems to be perfectly in control when he has sex. Or else there would be a string of destroyed apartments all over manhattan.”

"I can't believe you." You huff.

"So?"

"So what?"

"Have you guys kissed again?" She asks.

"I shouldn't have told you that." You grumble under your breath. "And can you keep your voice down? Ben can hear you."

He was in his old bedroom getting ready for the mission. The bedroom was exactly next to Annie and Hughie's bedroom, and you were sure that he was listening to Annie and you talk.

Because he can't keep his big nose out of anything. You think. Or rather can't keep his perfectly structured nose out of other people's business.

"I'm sure he has better things to do than listen to the two of us talk." Annie responds, but she begins to blast the ABBA gold album from her Bluetooth speaker, filling the room with the sound of 'Our Last Summer' "Come on-"

"Come on what?" You open one of your eyes to glare at her. "I told you it wasn't going to happen again."

"Why not?"

"You know why not. Ben is- Ben. And I don't want to waste my time with someone who's not interested in having a relationship." You shut your eye again to avoid her gaze.

"It's not a waste of time if he looks like that-" She trails off, inserting the curling iron one more time.

"I will agree that Ben is good-looking, but that's all he is. He doesn't care about other people, he only cares about himself and what feels good." You say it, but for the first time since you'd met Ben you weren't sure if it was true. Not after he spent his entire day yesterday helping you with the kids and not after he had bought you that bookshelf.

He cared enough to get that for you. A little voice whispers. But why? You wonder again. Why would he care about something as little as a bookshelf?

"You're making that face again." Annie says. "Did something happen?"

"No. I mean- he-" You sigh to yourself. "He keeps confusing me."

"How?"

"Well the other day he bought me a bookshelf."

"What? Why?"

"Because he said that stack of books in my bedroom was annoying him." You roll your eyes behind your eyelids.

"Why was he in your bedroom?" Annie's smirk is audible and you feel your cheeks heat.

"Shut up. He needed some clothes and I had some from the last time Darren stayed with me-"

Annie audibly groans when you mention your brother's name. They didn't get along. She thought that he was manipulative and that he used you. But you didn't see it. He was your brother, your blood, the only family you had left beside your grandmother and Annie.

"Please tell me he's not coming by soon. If he does I will be busy doing anything else."

"I don't know why the two of you can't just get along-" You sigh.

"Because he's the worst." Annie states loudly, dropping the curling iron and bringing the mascara brush up to your eyes.

"Can we please not have this conversation again?"

"Fine. Close." Annie holds up the mascara brush to your eyes. "Did you at least join one of those online dating apps or try to go on a date?"

"It’s been 3 days since we last talked about this-“ You feel the gentle stroke of the brush against your eyelashes.

“So?”

“No I haven’t.”

"Y/n-"

"I know, I know. I mean Jake did try to ask me out the other day but-"

"He WHAT?" Annie squeals, awkwardness about your brother forgotten. "Next time lead with that! Did you go out with him? Did you guys talk all night long?" Annie is hoping from foot to foot now, practically dancing to the music still blasting from the speaker on the dresser.

"I said no." You open your eyes to look at your friend.

"WHAT! Why?" She looks like you kicked a puppy. "He's so perfect for you! He likes plants and he's funny and he's got a great sense of humor, plus he's gorgeous and he's interested in you-"

"First he wanted to do something today and I knew Butcher had plans for me. Second, I didn't know he was asking me out, Ben told me he was." You close your eyes again so Annie can continue to do your makeup.

"Wait, Ben was there when he asked you out?" 

"We went to IKEA to get a couch for the apartment and Jake showed up and asked me out." You explain.

"You took Ben to IKEA?"

"He'd never gone there before, can you believe that?" It made you smile as you remembered how surprised he had been when you went inside. You’d had fun with him, walking around, testing out the couches, it almost felt… normal. And you kind of got the impression that Ben had a good time too. It was kind of cute when he did everyday things, when you saw him in normal settings and he was just a little bit awkward because he still couldn't figure out how to act in another time period.

"Yes I can, he's a million years old. Let's circle back to you saying no to the PERFECT man."

"He's not a million." You defend Ben. "And Jake's not perfect." You frown to yourself, thinking about the fact that Jake wasn't a supe. It wasn't something that you had cared about before, but ever since Ben brought up the idea of you "snapping Jake in half" it scared you.

Because what if I did? What if I hurt him? You didn’t know how Ben had sex so often with people who weren't supes. Maybe he just doesn't care if he does. Or maybe he’s done it so much that he’s able to control himself.

"What do you mean? I thought you liked him?"

"I mean I do. He's kind and he understands me and he loves plants as much as I do, but-" You shrug, feeling Annie begin to apply eyeliner. "I don't want to make things complicated. I mean we work together, he’s my boss. What if it doesn’t work out? Then I’d have to quit and I like my job.”

“I mean that’s kind of hot-“

“Hot in what? A sexual harassment kind of way?”

“No. It’s not harassment if it’s two consenting adults.”

“I’m still not sure that it’s a good idea.” You mutter more to yourself. But this time your mind didn’t go to Jake and you having a relationship even though he was your boss, instead it goes right to Ben. You can't help but slip into the fantasy of dating Ben, of you and him trying something new-

You shake off the image. He doesn’t want a relationship, doesn’t think that’s important. The thought is almost like a mantra, trying to convince yourself to push past Ben’s charm and good looks, but this time it makes you consider something else. Maybe he doesn’t think it’s important now, but maybe he used to think it was before Countess.

You’d heard the stories, seen the newspaper articles and clips of film of Ben and her together, remembered what Hughie said that Ben had wanted a family with her that Ben had told her that he loved her. That meant at some point in Ben’s life he had loved someone else, cared for them, wanted to be more than just fuck buddies.

Maybe he's just afraid to fall again, because he's not sure someone else will be there to catch him. Maybe Ben doesn't want to admit that he cares for anyone else because he's afraid that they'll push him away or stab him in the back the way that Countess did. And maybe he hides it all underneath the macho attitude.

Ben is strong. He told me that he didn't need anyone else. You press your lips together in a tight line. But I think he does.

You hated that she’d hurt him. You hated that she’d pushed him away, told him she never loved him, and stabbed him in the back. You couldn’t imagine doing that to someone, telling them that you loved them, and manipulating them with the promise of love. It almost made you nauseous to consider it. It made you want to travel back in time to the moment she stabbed him in the back and shove a bouquet of sunflowers up where the sun don't shine.

You pause on the thought. You weren't a terribly violent person, but if someone ever hurt your friends your anger was legendary, practically divine. You'd never thought that you'd want to do something for Ben, but you were realizing more and more that Ben was becoming your friend. You weren't sure how you felt about that.

“Alright what if he wasn’t your boss.” Annie gently brushes eyeshadow over your eyelids. “Then would you go out with him?”

“But he is my boss.”

“Use your imagination.”

The song has ended and there’s an awkward pause between the end of it and the slow beginning of the next one.

“I mean yes?” You shrug. “I can see myself with him. He’s the kind of person I’d want to date. He cares about other people, he remembers what kind of coffee I like, he actually contributes to the conversation, he makes me laugh, he actually gets my jokes, he’s nice to sit with, he doesn’t get under my skin-“ As you list each of those things you couldn't stop your mind from comparing Jake to Ben. You didn't know when Ben became the level by which you judged other men, but it had happened sometime in the past few days and you didn't know what it meant.

But Ben did remember what kind of coffee I like and he does contribute to conversations, well, he contributes with a disgusting comment… The thought trails off when you remember the small conversations that you'd had with Ben that weren't sexual in nature, when the two of you watched the movie on the couch and talked briefly about your parents, when Ben asked you how your day was the other day back at the apartment, and when the two of you talked on the couch while the children slept between the two of you. In those moments you had seen another side of Ben, the side that he seemed to hide away from everyone else, but not from you, not all the time.

Plus Ben is kind of funny sometimes, disgusting but funny. Doesn’t understand my jokes. And yes he gets under my skin but sometimes it’s kind of exciting and nice to have that happen. With Jake sometimes he’s just too happy or too eager to agree with me.

"Hmm." Annie considers. "How did Ben react when Jake asked you out?”

You don’t answer immediately. “Normal.”

"You hesitated"

"No I didn’t."

"Yes you did! He reacted didn’t he?!” Annie pokes you with her finger

"No he didn’t.” You lie.

“He did! Holy shit he was jealous wasn’t he?”

"No he wasn’t.” You swat her hand away. "He was just opinioned."

He sure looked jealous. You think to yourself remembering the way he glared at Jake from the other side of the room. The memory of the way his eyes darkened when he told you exactly why he wasn't jealous and exactly what he would do to you to make you forget all about Jake sends an involuntary shiver down your spine.

"Yeah. Opinionated over why you shouldn't go out with Jake because Ben wants you all to himself." Annie crows.

"Shut-"

"But it doesn't matter. Because Ben's going to have a heart attack when he sees you wearing this." Annie steps back from you. "My work here is done. Try to make it to the mission without ripping each other's clothes off."

"We are not going to-"

Annie spins your chair back to the mirror and your next words dry up.

Your hair is perfectly curled back from your face, the lipstick is a dark shade of crimson that makes your lips look fuller and more plump, the eye make up is dark and dusky making the color of your eyes pop against the darkness in a mysterious alluring way that seems almost hypnotic, and your face is shaded and contoured so well that you look dangerous and sexy.

"I'll take the silence as a 'Thank you Annie! You're so beautiful and talented and you're the best friend I've ever had!'" She laughs, standing back behind you with her arms crossed over her chest.

"I mean all of that is true, but-" You stand up from the chair to get a better look. "You've really outdone yourself."

"Well thank you. Had to. It's your first date with Ben." She makes goo-goo eyes and you try to punch her in the shoulder, but she dodges it.

"Shut up. It's not." You look down at the dress that Butcher picked out for you to wear. "I love you, but I hate Butcher."

The dress was a red scrap of fabric that clung to your curves, but left very little to the imagination. It was completely backless with an exaggerated wrinkle that fell just over the top of your ass. The front was sinched at the back of your neck secured only by a small piece of fabric that you were afraid would break at any moment and fell open in a "v" that stopped just under the swell of your breasts. There was a large prominent slit that cut up the left side of the floor length gown that stopped just shy of the top of your thigh. Annie had cinched a black choker around your neck to match the black pair of stilettos you wore

Personally, you though that the stilettos were overkill, you had no idea how the hell you were going to run after the supe if you saw him, let alone fight him.

"You look so hot." Annie says pleased. "You really should wear that all the time babe. I'd take you out to dinner just to show you off."

"You're the worst." You groan.

"I love you too honey." She winks. "Now come on. Butcher and the others are waiting for us." She turns off the speaker and walks out the door of the bedroom, but you linger there, looking at yourself in the mirror one more time.

You'd never worn anything remotely like this before, but even you had to admit, you looked good.

“Come on Poppet. You can’t hide in there forever.” Butcher chuckles from the living room.

He’s having too much fun with this. You huff to yourself finally leaving the bedroom to make your grand entrance, grabbing the black bejeweled clutch as you do.

Butcher, Frenchie, Annie, and Hughie are waiting outside the door while Kimiko sits on the couch scribbling away.

Hughie's mouth drops open,  Butcher gives an approving shrug, and Frenchie lets out a breath.

"You look beautiful." Frenchie takes your hand and gives you an appreciative twirl.

"Shut up." Your cheeks redden.

Hughie is still looking speechless at you. "I told you." Annie states elbowing him with a proud smile.

“You look-“ Hughie stutters.

“Good enough to eat.” Ben finishes, appearing in the hallway to your right. His hand traces the curve of your hip, thumb ghosting over your bare back.

“Just because I’m dressed like a hooker, doesn’t mean my brain’s not working.”  You slap his hand away ignoring the warm feeling that remains where he touched you. You could feel your heart beat begin to pick up in your chest.

“Baby I love your brain-“ Ben smiles, eyes tracing your figure. “But I’ll be damned if I don’t love your body more.”

You felt your cheeks turn the same shade as your dress with his compliment before you can stop them. It was difficult to pretend that you didn't feel any attraction for him, not when he looked so good.

He had trimmed his beard and brushed back his dark hair, so you could see his emerald colored eyes gleaming. He was wearing a black suit with a white button up shirt, but chose not to wear a black tie, instead unbuttoning the top few buttons to give just a hint of his muscular chest beneath.

Why does he have to look so good all the damn time?

“Shut up.” You grumble turning back to Butcher. “So are you happy? I dressed up, my IQ dropped a billion points.”

“Ecstatic poppet.” Butcher grins taking a sip from the cup of tea in his hand. “Now remember anything happens, you detain the supe, no killing."

“He’s talking to you.” You elbow Ben.

Ben shrugs. “I won't apologize for doing my job."

You sigh again and walk towards where Kimiko is writing in one of her workbooks on the couch. 

"You look hot." She signs at you.

It had been difficult to learn the sign language she used, but you liked to think that you had a handle on it so you could understand simple conversations. When things got too confusing she would use her phone.

"I know. I was mad at Butcher at first for picking this dress, but I kind of like it." You sign back. "Don’t tell Butcher I said that."

She crosses her fingers over her heart. "Soldier Boy is looking at you."

"He’s always looking at me. I'm glad I can't read minds. I don’t want to know what he’s thinking."

Kimiko snorts, raising her hand to sign "I think the look on his face says it all."

You half turn and look at where Ben is again, he’s not talking to Butcher like you thought he was, he’s staring at you, pupils dilated, eyes darkening in a way that makes your heart feel like it's beating so hard it'll explode out of your ribcage.

No. No. Keep it together. Heart of a warrior.

"You two have fun!" Annie smirks widely, taking a picture of Ben and you like you're going to prom and you know she's going to send the photo to taunt you with it later.

“Shall we?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Ladies first.” Ben smirks.

 You roll your eyes at him as you walk to the front door of the apartment. “Don’t pretend to be a gentleman Gramps. We both know you just want to look at my ass.”

“I’ll never get tired of looking Doll, especially not when you’re wearing something like that.”

A/N: I know this chapter is a little bit of a filler, but I wanted to give Annie and the reader some time together, aka. Annie telling the reader to do the one thing that we ALL know she should do. 😂

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307 @libby99hb

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

@roger-that-cap @megara0224 @miskwaadesiwag @rainyeggvoidpurse

@soldiergrimes @tiffsbagels @podiumackles

@ifyouwerethemoon @ririshkin @peachhiz @fitxgrld @sukunassfinger

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @ej13928 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @modiddys-blog

@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies @fireskyy

@n-o-p-e-never @nesnejwritings @am0rem @tpwkcalli @momggn

@fitxgrld @whimsicalcherry

[mxstellatayte]

okay this is so vague but a something for lewis based off the song pretty please by dutch melrose ?

I LOVE DUTCH MELROSE OMG I ABSOLUTELY CAN. also this one is dedicated my simply simply lovely bestie and horny ride-or-die (not like that) pookie @vivi-81 who has recently converted to being a lewis hoe <3 love you bestie

this fic is multiple chapters because i couldn't help myself! writing this dynamic is really really fun and i'm going to do my best to finish the fic by 15 september, but here is a teaser of the first chapter and the release schedule/masterlist!

this fic spans literal years. prepare yourselves yall because you're in for a WILD ride lol

teaser (this post): 4 september chapter 1: 8 september (🌻/🥀) chapter 2: 22 september (🌻/🪷) chapter 3: 8 november (🌻/🪷)

teaser below the cut!

the conversation continues easily as the two of you finish your breakfast, then, as you begin to prepare yourself to stand and leave, he stops you. "actually, there's one last thing i wanted to do before we went on camera."

your head tilts in confusion as you set your signature lipstick back in your bag, a deep red balm that you've used since you started working at vogue. it's become your trademark product, and almost everyone in the office knows exactly which one you use. "do i need to be worried, lewis?"

"no, not at all! it's this," he says, and your eyebrows rise in complete and utter shock when he pulls out a small box wrapped in white paper and a crimson bow wrapped around it all. "i wanted to get you a gift as a way of saying thank you for all the curveball questions you've thrown at me this year." your hands shake as you take the box from him, and you already know exactly which brand it is. cartier. sure, you've written pieces about their timeless looks and elegant aesthetics, and owning a piece of their jewelry has always been a dream of yours, but it's always been just that: a dream.

"lewis, i can't accept this. i- i'm honestly at a loss for words. seriously, no." you can't help but flush at how he's looking at you, those annoyingly beautiful eyes of his and the stupidly perfect crow's feet that only show up when he really smiles- when he smiles the way he is now. gods, amelia was right. you really are down bad for the driver.

"please, just open it up. if you don't like it, i'll take it back and you can choose something you prefer." he nudges the box towards you once more, and the crisp wax seal that sits on top of the paper is incredibly enticing.

"are you serious?" a part of you wants to think that this is some sick joke, that there's cameras on you and it's all going up on one of those prank channels on youtube. a much, much bigger part of you believes lewis, though. that is the part of you that takes the box between your shaking hands, carefully pops open the wax seal, nimbly unties the beautiful ribbon, and gently unfolds the pure white paper. when you finally open the box, you gasp, tears threatening to well in your eyes. "lewis..."

"do you like it?" his voice sounds anxious and hopeful, and you can't help but realize how much thought he'd put into this gift. when you'd invited him into your office to review some photos that were to go into an article in the next vogue issue a few months prior, he'd seen the vision board on your wall and asked about it. bashfully, you had explained to him that it was a silly idea you had when you graduated from uni with your friends- each of you made one, cutting and pasting photos from pinterest, magazines, newspapers, and anything you could find, assembling your dreams in a mishmash of colors and ideas. one of your dreams on the board had been to own this exact necklace- the cartier juste un clou necklace in white gold. the fourteen diamonds set in the precious metal glitter back at you, and you can't help but smile.

"i love it, lewis. thank you so much." he visibly relaxes, his shoulders loosening and the crease between his eyebrows disappearing.

"i'm glad. here, turn around. let me put it on you?" you happily oblige, lifting your hair out of the way after you stand so that he can fasten the delicate clasp over your spine.

it's safe to say that both his and your fans noticed the necklace hanging between your collarbones, sitting just below the star necklace you wear daily on top of your dark grey high-collared shirt. you try your best not to look at the comments on the videos of your interviews, but amelia had shown you one that day after the unedited interview went up online.

"are they dating or something? i can't get over how lewis looks at her."

taglist: @pear-1206 @vivi-81

join my taglist here!

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— You can kiss my ass, cowboy!

pairings: leah williamson x reader!monkey

summary: monkey's continuing her adventures in nashville with leah and her family, and of course she's her usual chaotic self throughout.

pt. 8 of chaos fc. ↪ read the rest here: chaos fc masterlist

thank you to @alotofpockets for help with this chapter with the aesthetic photos & shizzle.

ps. brace yourself folks, this is quite a long one.

"Shut that alarm up!" You grumble, your peaceful slumber being interrupted by the annoying sound of the blondes' alarm clock blaring right through from the other side of the wall in the adjoined room - You wish that you were trusted to have your own room, far away from Malfoy and that stupid alarm of hers.

But apparently that isn't the case...

"Leeeah!" You shout aloud in annoyance, before attempting to block out the noise by shoving a pillow over your face.

Did it work? Nope.

"Oh and good mornin' to you too, Monkey," Leah teases, peering her head into your hotel room to find you curled up on the bed with the pillow shoved over your head.

"Just shut it off already!" You exclaim in protest.

The blonde chuckles and fiddles with her phone, finally turning off the blaring sound, "That better?" She jokes, moving to sit on the edge of your bed, "You're never a morning person are we, eh?"

You remove the pillow and scowl at her, "What'd you think?"

"Come on cranky," Leah pats at your leg which is covered up with the duvet, "The alarm  was set for a reason anyways, it's time to get up." She adds in a cheerful tone of voice.

"Too early for your cheeriness," You grumble, trying to keep hold of the duvet before the blonde has a chance to rip it away from you.

"You're so dramatic sometimes," Leah remarks as she attempts to rip the duvet covers away from you like the meanie that she is.

Whining in defiance, you scowl at the blonde again, "I'm not dramatic! You're the insane one for waking me up this early!" You exclaim, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep.

Sure when you're awake you're a menace, but you actually love your sleep a lot and its' precious.

"For somebody who had a fair amount of sleep last night, you're still exceptionally grumpy, eh?" The blonde continues to tease you.

"I can't help bein' tired, I'm a teenager. It's what we do-- Wait, how'd I get back?" It finally dawns on you that your in the hotel room, however, you don't remember much of how you get here at all.

"Took you long enough to realise that one," Leah quips in, shaking her head in amusement, "You crashed out at the festival, so I ended up carrying you back here." She explains.

Your eyes widen in disbelief, "What? No you didn't!" You refuse to believe that you fell asleep on the floor of a crowded place.

"I did, you were completely out of it after the sugar crash from eating all of the churros that I told you not to eat," Leah remarks, pursing her lips, "So I had no choice but let you sleep on me until we came back here." She adds.

"They were too good to not eat them, Le!" You insist, holding your head in your hands to hide your initial embarrassment when you remember its' not just you and Leah, but also her family too.

"Yeah, well that's what you get when you eat so many of them at once,"  The blonde still continues to tease you for her own joy, "I have photos for proof if you want to see them?" She offers.

"Oh my God, no!" You're quick to deny seeing evidence of your state of sleep the previous night, "You didn't post them on Instagram, did you?" You can't help but ask, already dreading the answer.

"What do you think?" The blonde has a shit eating grin plastered on her face, "That's going straight in my Instagram photo dump."

"You wouldn't dare!" You narrow your eyes at her, although you know pretty well, she most definitely would.

Leah continues to smirk proud of herself as she shrugs her shoulders, "You know you actually looked like well, not such a menace like usual with your face buried in my neck while you snored-- Whoa, hey!" She shrieks, dodging the pillow that you just so happen to have thrown in her direction.

"Your so annoyin' sometimes," You grumble in annoyance, slowly moving to get out of bed with very little effort that you have, "So mean, Malfoy." You add quietly, barely loud enough to hear.

Leah snorts in amusement, "Really? Speak for yourself, Monkey. Speak for yourself," She states as she takes a minute to realise what you said, "Oi. What have I told you about calling me that!" She states, firmly.

"I know, I'm a menace to society, yada, yada, yada! Kim spent the whole ride back from that open training session in Melbourne lecturing me about it," You murmur, rolling your eyes, "The bus ride was so long back to the hotel!" Walking off to grab your clothes out of your suitcase, you leave the blonde standing there in disbelief at your usual antics.

"Can we eat yet? I'm starvin' marvin!" You complain, being sat at one the tables in the diner that you're currently waiting on Leahs' family to join the pair of you.

You're not very patient most of the time, but you can't help that.

"Just be patient and wait a bit longer," Leah gives you one of her usual pointed looks that your more than familiar with.

You can't help but huff impatiently, "It's bad enough to drag me out of bed at the crack of dawn and now you're making me wait to eat-- Neglect. Complete neglect!" You shout loudly, catching the attention of a few people, who look at you in concern.

Leah's eyes widen in horror as she laughs slightly, "Shes' fine, shes' fine, honestly, shes' just being dramatic," She reassures them the best she can before she turns back you and swats the back of your head, "Oi, don't shout that out loud in here. What is wrong with you?" She scolds, trying to hide her overall embarrassment.

"I'm hungry," You whine, ducking down in your seat.

"We're waiting for my grandma and cousin. Can you be patient enough to wait ten minutes before making a scene?" The blonde questions, completely mortified how you'd just acted.

You groan dramatically, "You're killin' me here, Le! I'm completely wasting away!"

"So dramatic," Leah murmurs, rolling her eyes, "Honestly, even Buddy doesn't make this much of a fuss sometimes." She remarks, referring back to her 3 year old and your favourite little buddy.

You wish that she could have joined you on the trip, it would have been fun. However, shes' spent the week on holiday in Greece with Jordan.

You decide to make the most of your time by attempting to stack the salt and pepper shakers on top of each other to try and make a make-shift tower, finding other little bits to add to it.

Leah could've said something but she was just grateful enough you weren't shouting the house down and causing a scene in the cafe.

"Sorry, we're late," Leahs' cousin, Jordan, calls over to you both as two older women enter the cafe.

"Finally!" You exclaim being miss dramatic over here.

Leahs' face blushes red slightly, "Yeah, sorry about her. Someones' impatient to wait long enough to eat." She remarks, poking fun at you.

"I'm hank marvin' I can't help it!" You whine in protest, while in the process you end up knocking over your newly built tower, "Awh, shucks!" You mumble, scrunching your face up slightly.

"Ah, I see," Leahs' grandma, Berny, chuckles and moves to take a seat at the table, "Did you sleep well, love?" She wonders, turning her attention to you.

"You definitely were conked out on the floor last night," Jordan chips in.

This time it's you who faintly blushes, "Ehm, yeah. I er, I didn't realise I passed out the way that I did." You admit, awkwardly scratching the back of your neck.

"Shall we order?" Leah chimes in, sensing your shyness with her family.

It might come as a surprise to some people, but you were, at times, incredibly shy.

Especially when it comes to blondie's family.

You didn't know why, but you tried to always be respectful and not be a complete menace around them.

Of course you have known them all for a while, having moved in with Leah when you first joined the team at 16 and you'd found a way to slot yourself into her home and family, but it still didn't mean you weren't shy around them.

It's only this holiday that you've really started to come out of your shell around them, both of them having seen what happened the previous night.

"I want pancakes!" You perk up at the mention of food, "A whole stack of 'em with bacon and tons of syrup!"

"That's not healthy, Monkey," Leah grimaces at your choice of breakfast.

"So? I'm on my holiday, innit!" You flash the blonde an innocent smile, "What Thanos doesn't know, won't hurt him." You remark, shrugging your shoulders.

The blonde tuts at your choice of breakfast, "You're not having that much sugar, regardless of being on holiday or not," She quotes, using her fingers as air quotes to mock you, "You can have a few pancakes or none."

You can't help but feel annoyed about Leah putting her foot down on this one and of course you protest about it, "It's not even that much sugar. What's the big deal?" You question, huffing slightly.

"The big deal is that its' enough sugar for you to be bouncing off the walls and we don't need a repeat of last night, do we?" Leah remarks knowingly.

Awh, shucks...

"Mean Malfoy," You murmur in disagreement, slumping back into your seat and pouting at the blonde.

"I heard that," Leah states, still not much a fan of her newfound nickname.

"Good you were meant too," Sticking your tongue out at her because you can't help but be a complete menace sometimes.

Leah tuts and shakes her head, "Sometimes I forgot who the toddler is."

"I think Buddy's more well behaved, isn't she?" Leah's grandma chimes in.

"Probably right there," Jordan chuckles in agreement.

You continue to pout in your seat at the older women's comments, "That's rude."

"But true," Leah states, blunt as ever.

"I don't like being ganged up on like this, this isn't fair!" You huff in protest about it all 3 older women saying what did, "I think for this I deserve to get all the pancakes that I want!" You insist.

Leah snorts slightly and shakes her head, "Ha, nice try but the answers still no, so pick again."

"Damn it. I really thought I had it then!" You grumble, slumping your shoulders in protest, thinking that you will be able to get away with that one.

"I'm free as a bird!" You exclaim, walking out of the cafe with a newfound love for american style pancakes and chocolate flavoured milkshakes that you had luck with getting Leah to cave in eventually.

"What?" Jordan asks, puzzled with your carefree spirit to run wild.

This is definitely a side in you that nobody in Leah's family ever usually sees, unless sugar is involved.

Also one of the reasons why you don't have it too much.

Leah exhales a sigh and shakes her head, "This is normal, don't worry-- Monkey, careful near the road!" She shouts aloud, yanking a hold of your arm when she catches you wandering way too close to it with the cars zooming past at the speed they did.

"Awh, I just wanted to see if I can balance on the curb like I do back home!" You insist, being caught out as you try an improvised balancing act to keep your brain distracted for a bit.

It seems to have done the trick, until blondie yanked you away from it.

"You're about to get yourself run over by that distraction," Leah clicks her tongue disapprovingly, "Come on, we're heading this way." She gestured in the direction of where the road led to a strip of shops.

You're not at all keen to follow that direction until you set your eyes on your version of heaven.

"Oh my God," Your eyes widen in amazement, her mouth dropping in shock and excitement, "I'm in heaven!" You exclaim.

A lego shop, your perfect version of heaven!

"You're what now?" Leahs' cousin questions, confused and more so concerned for your sanity.

Leahs' family look bewildered while Leah is more used to this type of conversation with you.

"Oh boy, she's seen it," Leah remarks jokingly, shaking her head.

"I'm in lego heaven!"  You repeat the sentence, "OH MY GOD, LOOK AT THAT! WOW, ITS' SO COOL! A GIGANTIC FREAKIN' LEGO COWBOY!" You shout aloud to nobody in particular, too much excitement to care about any concerned looks whatsoever.

You don't waste any time yanking your arm out of the blondes' grasp and run directly towards it, wanting to see it better up closer.

"Oh great we got a runner," Jordan jokes, watching as you run off.

Berny chuckles in amusement, "Shouldn't you go and chase after her, love?" She questions.

"Nah, she'll be fine, wait actually, yeah... I'll be back," Leah speaks aloud in realisation, quickly chasing after you before you end up causing more trouble, "Monkey, come 'ere, now!"

"Oh she's definitely got her hands full with that kid alone," Jordan remarks, laughing as her cousin runs after you.

"I agree," Berny replies.

"Monkey? C'mere!" Leah catches up to you, looking slightly annoyed but you couldn't care less when you are in lego heaven, "You need to stop wandering off so much!"

"Look, Le, look! There's a lego cowboy!" You squeal in excitement, jumping up and down on the spot, "I want one, I want one! Can I pleeeease get one?" You all but plead, wanting your own lego cowboy.

Sure you're technically an adult but you don't handle money well at all, so you had your bank card held captive by Malfoy, something about your lego habits being out of control... but who can blame you when they're so cool to build?

Leah can't help but chuckle in amusement, "I don't think you really need one of them, do you?" She wonders.

You gasp at the blonde in fake horror, "Are you serious? I need one. We haveeeee to get this, it would be so sick," You insist excitedly, "Buddy would love this as well!" Knowing that your favourite little buddy would indeed love this as much as you do, you hope Leah caves at that.

Hearing the mention of the 3 year old, Leahs' more lenient to listen to your pleading, "Fine, alright. We'll get it." She agrees.

"For real?That's awesome!" You're incredibly excited now as you all but drag the blonde inside the lego store, your eyes widening in complete awe, "Can we get this one as well?" You ask, motioning to another lego set.

"I think just one is fine for now," Leah shakes her head in disagreement.

You can't help but pout then, "But you know Buddy would love it as well, not just me!"

"Really? Using my kid as a way to get things," Leah quirks her eyebrow and continues to shake her head while you continue to give her your best puppy dog eyes, "Oh you know that doesn't work on me now... Alright fine, we'll get that one as well, but that's it!"

"Yay!" You jump for joy and pick up the second lego set, the excitement was unbearable to be able to build it.

"Oh my God, this is the best day ever!" Walking along the road near to the venue of the festival, you come across a fluffy cow in the field, "Oh my God, Derek. Is that you!?"

"Off she goes again," Leahs' grandma remarks, shaking her head, "That kid sure is a whirlwind." She adds.

Leah pinches the bridge of her nose and shakes her head, "Monkey, where are you goin' now?"

"Look! I found Derek-- How'd he get here from Scotland? That's so far!" Your eyes widen in confusion, "Look, Le! It's Derek, the fluffy cow!" You point over to the field where there's a cow that is the exact replica of the one that you saw in Scotland.

"Oh... She's not serious, is she?" Jordan looks at her cousin for clarification.

"I fear she might be," Leah admits, biting her bottom lip.

Jordan can't help but laugh, "Are you sure you don't think its' wise to get her tested, for you know, obvious reasons?"

"I'm not crazy, I'm just quirky!" You shout aloud before dashing to the field to where the fluffy cow is, "Hi, Derek. Quick this is the perfect photo opportunity-- Ay Malfoy, can you take mine and Dereks' photo?"

"Malfoy," Jordan snickers in amusement.

"My names not-- Fine," Leah begrudgingly snaps the photo of you with your new favourite animal, somehow accepting her new nickname.

"It's nice to meet you bud, thanks for the photo!" You grin and pat the cows' fur gently, "Le, wouldn't it be so cool if we could get a fluffy cow as a pet?"

"NO!" Leahs' quick to disagree, "We don't have a house big enough for a fluffy cow, don't get any ideas!"

"But we could though!" You insist, trying to find a reasonable solution to have your own fluffy cow.

"No! Come on, lets' go before you get any more crazy ideas!" Leah is grabbing hold of your upper bicep and all but dragging you in the direction of where you were previously heading to the venue.

"My ideas aren't crazy, I'm just havin' a good time," You huff in protest and reluctantly follow after them to walk to the venue for the second day of the festival.

"Come on menace," Leah remarks.

You grin excitedly still in awe of seeing the cow, "I still can't believe that Derek's here! I am shook!" You exclaim.

"You know he's not... Ah, never mind," Leah shakes her head, giving up on the explanation, not sure if you'd understand it right now, "Think you can stay awake this time round?" She jokes.

"Shut up," You blush red at the mention of your antics the previous night, continuing to follow them until you saw something else that looks pretty cool in your opinion, "Wow, that looks awesome! I wanna go on it! I wanna go on it!"

The 3 older women look in the direction of what's caught your attention and all laugh in amusement.

"Think you stay on long enough without falling off it?" Jordan challenges.

You scoff in agreement, "Please, I'd be a pro!" You're more than up for the challenge, already heading in the direction of the mechanical bull.

"Don't sound too confident about that one," Leah stifles her laughter before she reaches into her pocket to take the money out and pay for the ride, "Try not to fall off, menace." She jokes.

"Yeehaw' lets' go!" You exclaim, rushing towards it and hopping on,  the bull starts up in a slow motion as it starts to fasten the pace, "Woohoo! This is great, I love this-- YO NASHVILLE!! YEEHAW MUTHA FUCKER!"

Leah's way too busy filming this to even be bothered to scold you about your use of colourful language, this is pure entertainment at its finest.

"She's' really enjoying herself on that thing isn't she," Leah's grandma comments as she beams a wide smile, happy that your able to be carefree as you want, however she is certainly surprised about the words that come out of your mouth.

Leah's cousin is cracking up in laughter, "I'm surprised she hasn't fallen off it yet. You know she's definitely going to try and get you to buy one of these things now, eh?" She jokes with the blonde.

Snorting in amusement, Leah shakes her head as she saves the video for later and pockets her phone in her pocket, "She can try all she likes, where on earth would I have room to fit one of those in the house?" She wonders.

"I'm sure she'd try and fit it in her bedroom if you let her," Jordan remarks, shrugging her shoulders as she continues to watch you have an absolute blast on the mechanical bull.

"That was... That was awesome!" You exclaim, stuttering your words as you try to get your breath back after being thrown around, "We have to get one of them!"

"Told you," Jordan states, looking at Leah knowingly.

Leah chuckles and slings her arm around your shoulder, "We are definitely not getting one of them," She states, letting you have a few minutes to catch your breath again before you continue to yap about something else.

"I don't think it would be safe or practical in a house," Leah's grandma chuckles.

"But it would be so cool, wouldn't it? You know Buddy would love that!" You insist, knowing its' the blonde weak spot to mention the little 'un.

"Oh no, you're not doing that again. There's no chance I am letting Buddy near one of these things at all any time soon," The blonde states, firmly much to your own disappointment.

"It would be so fun though, wouldn't it?" You try and give a convincing speech to get your own way, but judging from the look from the older blonde, you're having a hard time with that, "Guess I'll just have to get one when I get my own place."

Leah snickers and shakes her head, "You're definitely way off that happening any time soon at all, Monkey." She tells you.

"Really? I think it would work out pretty well," You insist, shrugging your shoulders, "It's okay to admit that you'd miss me though, I get it." You joke, knowing secretly that the blonde will definitely miss you too much when you move out, even if she doesn't openly say it.

"I wouldn't miss you," Leah remarks as you all walk into the venue of the festival, "Besides, I'm not letting you out of my sight when you think that takeout meals, sweets and energy drinks are an acceptable diet-- Oh you think I didn't know about them ones, huh?"

"I thought you were banned from energy drinks?" Jordan asks, knowing that you don't react well with them.

"She is supposed to be, but someone sneaks them when they think we don't know about it," The blonde remarks, looking at you.

"He, I'm a menace," You smirk at the both of them, "I can't survive without sugar sometimes!" You declare, you love sugary drinks and you can't get enough of them.

However, some people, i.e. responsible adults, think differently about them, so sometimes you have to get creative to get a hold of them.

Leah clicks her tongue disapprovingly, "We seriously need to talk about your caffeine addiction before it gets out of hand, Monkey."

"I think you might be past that point love," Berny chimes in, amused at the conversation.

Leah exhales a sigh and nods her head slowly in agreement, "I fear you might be right there, grandma. Our Monkey's habit of caffeine certainly is concerning." She states.

"Yo, this music is my passion!" You exclaim loudly over the volume of the noise, enjoying yourself being in your element once again, "Nashville's a total vibe!" You shout, even louder if that's even possible.

"If this is her without so much sugar then I hate to see what she's like with it," Jordan remarks, leaning in close to Leah so she could hear her over the music.

"Carnage, complete and utter carnage," Leah states, wincing at the flashback of the last time you had a ridiculous amount of sugar.

This is tame for you.

"I fuckin' love being in Nashville!" You scream at the top of your lungs, standing on a chair and swinging your cowboy hat around in the air.

"Hey! Language!" The responsible adult, ie, captain of the fun police chides you, because it's' just so typical of her, "Get down before you end up breaking your leg!" She adds.

"Geesh, calm down there, Captain America!" You roll your eyes, but begrudgingly get down off the chair to save the defender having a cardiac arrest right there and then.

The blonde clicks her tongue, "You're such a menace sometimes, Monkey!" Completely caught off guard when she watches you pull a pair of glow in the dark glasses out of your back pocket, "Wha-- Where on earth did you get a pair of them from?" She questions, bewildered.

You smirk and slide the pair of glasses on, "What, you mean you don't carry a pair of these at the ready?" You gasp in shock horror.

"You really are something else sometimes, Monkey," Leah remarks, shaking her head.

"I'm impressed," Jordan chips in.

"They suit you love," Berny pipes in.

"Thank you," You grin at the older women before you turn to look at Leah, "See? I'm totally rockin' them! Wanna pair, they come with two!" You offer the spare pair to the blonde.

"Oh no, I think only you can pull off a look with a pair of them glow in the dark glasses and cowboy hat," Leah states, amused with your usual antics and doesn't miss the opportunity to snap a picture for the memories.

"I gotta take a video of this and send it to Kyra," You state, sliding your phone out of your pocket to pull up the camera app, "You know, I wish she could be here to experience this!"

"I'm glad, I don't think I could handle the pair of you together," The blonde tells you honestly.

You can't help but smirk confidently, "Only because she calls you Lord Farquaad far too much for you to handle!"

"Lord Farquaad?" Berny questions, confused.

"That's certainly creative," Jordan chimes in as she tries and fails to stifle her laughter.

Leah groans and shakes her head, "I don't know what it is with you pair and coming up with these nicknames." She mutters in disbelief.

"Oh, we made code names for everyone!" You exclaim, remembering all of the time it took you and Kyra to come up with them all, "We called Katie leprechaun cos' she's Irish, innit?"

"I'm sure she loved that," Leah deadpans, trying to figure out what went on inside your head sometimes.

"Smile, Le," Taking the perfect opportunity of Leah pulling her usual frowning face, you snap a picture and upload it to your Instagram right there and then, "I got the perfect shot, Instagram approved."

"Don't you even dare post that, Monkey!" The blonde states, firmly.

"Eh, its' too late for that," You flash her an innocent smile and pocket your phone again and start to dance to the beat of song that you recognise.

"Hey sweetheart, you're lookin' like a fine thing," A man attempts to horribly flirt with you and gets a bit closer to you, "Wanna have a dance and maybe even a kiss?" He offers.

You scrunch your face up in disgust, "Ha, no. I tell you what you can kiss though," You state as you near his face, "You can kiss my ass, cowboy!"

"Well if the offers there," The man smirks in agreement.

"Ew," You murmur, not understanding why he wasn't going away.

"Whoa, hey, no, no," Leah shakes her head in disagreement and moves to stand up, trying to square up to the man, "Back off, mate. Shes' too young for you!" She states, not having none of it.

The man holds his hands up in mock surrender, "Geez, alright, no need to be so protective," He jokes as he backs off in the other direction.

"You can't say these sorts of things, that man literally took it like that!" Leah shakes her head in disbelief, "You should know that men don't always think with their heads!"

You huff in disagreement, "I had it handled though, you didn't need to intervene. I was totally gonna wind him up about it!"

"Menace," Leah mutters to herself.

"I'm thirsty, I'm gonna go and get a drink," You declare, going to move in the direction of a bar.

"Hold on, I'm comin' with you. I don't trust you alone with what just happened," The blonde's quick to say, following after you before you can wander off once again.

"Are you sure I can't have a beer?" You try your luck with this once again, maybe hoping the blonde has changed her mind.

"That depends if you want to sit in jail for the night," Leah remarks as the two of you wait to be served by the bartender, "Hi, can I get 2 vodka cokes, 1 gin and tonic and a coke as well, please?" She asks.

"Comin' up," The bartender nods and gets to work pouring the drinks one by one.

"Oh, no ice or oranges!" You interject, holding your finger up in the bartenders direction.

Leah snickers, "Do you mean lemon or lime, instead?"

"Whatever," You murmur and shrug your shoulders.

With the drinks passed over to you both, you start walking back to Leah's family as something on the ground catches your attention all of a sudden.

"Er, what's that?" You move closer to inspect it, reaching out to try and poke it out of curiosity.

Leah's eyes widen in horror as she's quick to swat your hand away from it before you can reach it, "Ew, no. Don't touch that!" She states, firmly.

"Why?" You cock your head in confusion as you inspect it closer and the realisation suddenly hits, "Oh-- Ew, ew, that's gross! Oh my God, I almost touched that! Why... Why's it on the floor-- Why did you nearly let me touch it?" You screech in disgust, having a complete meltdown over it, earning a few odd looks.

"That's why I swatted your hand away before you did, Monkey," Leah exhales a sigh and shakes her head, "You should know better than to touch things on the floor, anyways." She adds, expecting you to have some sort of common sense.

You pout at her words, "I was curious. I didn't realise it was a condom!" You whine in disgust, trying to move away from it now, "I'm innocent, I don't know about them things!"

Leah laugh in amusement, "Well, at least you know for next time," She remarks, pulling you in the direction of where her family members are, "Here you go." She hands the drinks to them and sits back down in her seat.

"I just almost touched a freakin' condom," You murmur in horror still, feeling traumatized about the experience.

"What?" Jordan blinks in confusion.

"It was right there on the floor, like ew, why would anyone leave such a thing like that on the floor?" Your close to having a complete breakdown over this, "That is totally disgusting! Absolute filth! Wha... Why would somebody-- I just don't understand it!" You exclaim.

Berny and Jordan can't help but laugh, while Leahs' holding her head in her hands feeling somewhat embarrassed for you making a scene like you did in typical you style.

"Oh dear," Leah's grandma states, amusedly.

"Calm down, Monkey," The blonde tries to calm you down, but your not having none of it as you continue to wave your arms about in the air and still have a complete meltdown over it.

"No, no! It's not right, its' horribleeee! What if... What if I actually touched it? I could have... I could have picked up anything at all!" You screech in horror, displeased about the whole thing.

"Monkey, relax. It's fine, you didn't touch it," Leah states, trying to stifle her laughter as she has to admit watching you freak out in this way is funny, and it proves that you really are innocent with some things after all.

You huff and slump down in your chair, not liking being mocked fun off as the beat for a familiar song kicks in, "Hey this song's great-- Yo, Le, have you sung this to Lia at all?" You joke, you can't help but want to mess with the blonde.

The speculation from fans is always wild about Leah being with Lia, of course you know they're just the best of friends, but you're a little shit and you can't help but want to stir trouble even more.

"Monkey!" The blondes' glare is enough to make you crack up laughing even more, "Enough of that!" She states, annoyed.

"You know I just can't help it sometimes," You reply trying to feign your innocence, "Are you sure there's nothing more serious going on there? I'll give the fans the inside scoop-- Agh! No, get off meeee!" You can't help but screech loudly as the blonde is quick to pull you into a headlock and press her hand over your mouth to shut you up before you continue to talk.

Yep, definitely worth being a menace sometimes.

monkeymenace_ just posted.

liked by leahwilliamsonn and 18,023 others.

monkeymenace_ adventures in nashville with malfoy and co, my dreams came true in more ways than one!

from getting to pet derek the fluffy cow, finding the best lego store and riding a bull, and that's without even talking about the music. it's been a blast!

nashville, you have my heart! 🤠❤️

leahwilliamsonn: glad you have had the best time, monkey! 🐒❤️

bethmead_: ha, that denim jacket is perfect for you! ↪ leahwilliamsonn: i thought the same when i brought it her

kyracooneyx: missin' you, eagle 1 😢🦅 ↪ monkeymenace_: missin' you too, eagle 2 😭💔🦅🦅

© scribblesofagoonerr

[crazyunsexycool]

My Little Love

Chapter 39

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x enhanced!reader

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: fluff city baby!!!!

A/N: This is just a filler chapter. It's just the week leading up to Sugar and Bucky's wedding. I really hope you enjoy it. I'm so excited for the next chapter which is the actual wedding. Can't wait to share it soon...

Series Masterlist

Henry was holding up a hair tie for you to take. He’d asked for you to do his hair half up and half down. This time though he asked if he could have a small braid behind his ear. 

“Just like uncle Thor.” He said excitedly and you couldn’t deny him the request. 

“There you go bubs.” You say once you tie the end of the braid. 

“Thanks mama.” 

“You’re welcome. Now go change your shirt, you and your dad are leaving in a few minutes.” 

“Ok.” 

You smile as you watch Henry run out of your en suite. There were just a few days left until the wedding and you were working on the final details. Today you’d have your final fitting for your dress along with Lottie and your bridesmaids. Bucky was off with Henry and his groomsmens for their own fitting. After that you had a get together with the guests that were flying in for the wedding.

You apply the last bit of your makeup and walk out to your bedroom. 

“C’mon sweet Angel let’s get your hair done.” 

“Kay.” Lottie slides off your bed and walks into your bathroom. 

You sit her on the counter and smile at her through the mirror. “How should we do your hair today?” 

“Can habe it wike Bubba?”

“You want your hair half up?”

“Yeah, an a big bow.”

“That’s a good choice, baby.” You grab a comb and start to run it through her hair to remove any knots. 

“Here are my favorite girls.” Bucky walks into the bathroom already dressed and ready to go. “Are you ready to try on your dress again, Doll?” 

“Yeah. Is so pwetty daddy.” 

“Well I can’t wait to see it when you get back.”

“No! You no see my dwess.” Lottie meets Bucky’s eyes through the mirror. She’s horrified at his statement.

“Why can’t I see your dress?”

“It’s bad wuck. Mama tell him.” 

“Sweet Angel, it’s bad luck if daddy sees my dress before the wedding. It’s ok if he sees yours.”

“Mama is bad wuck. No want bad wuck when we get mawwied.” 

Bucky chuckles and kisses Lottie’s cheek. “Doll you’re not getting married. Mama and I are getting married.”

Lottie giggles but shrugs. “You no see it.”

“Fine, I won’t see the dress. I’ll see you later Sugar.”

“Love you.” You murmur before giving Bucky a quick kiss. 

Bucky walks out and leaves you to finish Lottie’s hair.

“Alright my Sweet Angel, your hair is done. Let's go get your shoes so that we can leave.”

“Kay, mama. Am so ‘cited.”

“Me too. I’m so excited.” You smile and follow Charlotte out to her room.

“Welcome back bride to be.” The shop owner greets you as you walk in. “Mimosas ladies? And just orange juice for the little one.” 

“Thank you.” You smile while taking your drink and move further into the shop. 

“Oh, it seems like we are one bridesmaid short. Will she be in soon?” 

Your shoulders slump just a little as you look between Wanda and Nat. “No, I don’t believe she’ll be in today.”

“No worries, her dress already fits her perfectly.” The owner smiles. “Who wants to go first?”

“Me pwease.” 

“Flower girl it is then.”

“Come on Lots of Love, I’ll help you.” Nat holds out her hand and Lottie takes it. Together they head to the dressing room. 

You and Wanda talk and giggle while you wait. 

“Here comes the flower girl.” 

You hear the quick little steps of Charlotte running back to the main area of the shop. She looks perfect in the dress you’d picked out for her. The dress was a beautiful champagne color. It had a big tulle skirt with lace details and a small train. You and Wanda coo and clap as Lottie turns for you. 

“How does the dress feel, sweet Angel? Is it too big or too tight?” 

“No mama,” Lottie shakes her head while looking down. “It’s good.” 

“Perfect.” The shop owner says. “Now the bridesmaids.” 

Wanda and Nat head back to the changing rooms, coming back in their own floor length dresses. They were form fitting but comfortable. Each of them is in a different shade of blue to go with the colors of the wedding. 

“I’ve already hung up your dress.” The owner says as she takes you back to the dressing rooms. “The small alterations were completed so it should fit like a glove. I’ll be right back to help you into your dress.” 

“Thank you.” You smile at the older woman. 

In the dressing room you find your dress and a robe. You get out of your clothes and put on the robe knowing you’ll need help anyways. A smile appears on your face as you look at the dress you chose. You hope Bucky likes it as much as you do. Although you know he’d marry you even if you wore a paper bag. After everything the two of you had gone through and endured together, your happily ever after was within reach and you were thrilled. 

A soft knock pulls you out of your thoughts. The door opens after you murmur ‘come in’. When you turn you’re surprised to find Sofia there. Her expression was unsure and worried. 

“Hey.” She says quietly.

“You came.” 

“It’s your wedding, of course I’m here.” Sofia replies but she seems uncomfortable, especially when you don’t respond. “Unless you don’t want me here.”

“No! No, don’t go. Of course I want you here. I just thought that after…” you trail off not wanting to bring up Lorraine. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have to apologize.” 

“I do. Please let me. I’m sorry I never spoke up about what she did to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t a good sister to you when all you wanted was a relationship. I’m sorry I reacted the way I did when you told us everything that happened to you. You didn’t deserve to go through that. And then you were so strong to go and face her on your own just to keep us safe.” Sofia was crying now as she apologized and you were quick to bring her into a hug.

“It was a lot of information and I know it was scary to know what she wanted to do to you. I’m not mad or anything because of how you reacted. I was just scared you’d hate me because of how she died.” 

Sofia pulled away and shook her head. “I couldn’t hate you. You were only trying to protect us. And dad was right, she had it coming.” 

You wipe away her tears before giving her another hug. 

“I just want to be here to support you on your big day. If you’ll still have me as a bridesmaid that is.” 

“Of course. Now help me get my dress on.” 

Guests had already arrived at the restaurant that had been booked. Nat and Wanda lead the way towards the section reserved for the welcome party for the guests that had flown in for the wedding. Before you get to the back though you spot Luke and Joshua waiting to the side. They had the same expression Sofia had when she opened the dressing room door. You send Lottie to go find Bucky while you take a moment to talk to your brothers. They both apologize and say something similar to what Sofia had said. Luke apologizes more for being, in his words, a bad big brother. But you’re too happy now to hold a grudge. So you forgive them. A few tears are shed and hugs are shared and you laugh when you hear Charlotte from across the room.

“Daddy, mama’s cwying.” She says with concern. 

Bucky hurries only to find you smiling at your siblings. Luke extends his hand first. 

“Thank you for saving Y/N.” Luke says as Bucky shakes his hand.

“I’ll do it as many times as I have to.” 

“We’re sorry for reacting the way we did.” Joshua adds. “You did the right thing.” 

Bucky nods as he pulls you into his side. “I picked up your suit today. It’s in the car.” He tells Joshua, Bucky’s indirect way of asking if he still wants to be a groomsman. 

“I’ll make sure to grab it on our way out.” 

With the tension and uncertainty of not knowing if your siblings would show up to your wedding or now out of the way, you all head back to where the rest of the guests are. 

You greet Scott and Hope. Clint’s family and Sarah with her boys. Some of Bucky’s nieces and nephews as well as their families. They were all here to celebrate your special day. 

“Koye hi.” You hear Charlotte say so you and Bucky turn to see the general of the Dora Milaje walking in. 

“Shuri, you’re here!” Henry says excitedly. 

“Of course I am.” She says as she and Henry do their special handshake.

You and Bucky excuse yourself with his family and head towards your newest guests. 

“Queen Ramonda, you made it. Thank you so much for being here.” You say once you’re close enough. 

“I wouldn’t miss this wedding for anything in this world. It might be the only one I get to witness.” She says with a smile and small joking jab at her son. 

“Mother.”

“I’m just joking. A little.” 

“T’Challa, thank you for being here.” Bucky says as they greet each other. “It means a lot that you could all make it.” 

“Like mother said, we wouldn’t miss this for the world. We are very happy for your union and are honored to be part of the celebration.” 

“Now, come and tell me everything about this wedding.” She says.  “You look absolutely glowing. Happiness suits you.” Ramonda takes your hand and leads you away.

“Remember all the times you told me this would never happen for you?” T’Challa asks Bucky as they walk back to where the rest of the guests are. 

“I do. You know I sit back to watch my kids playing and running around or watch Y/N doing anything in our home and it doesn’t feel real.” 

T’Challa places a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Well it is and you deserve to have the life you dreamt of. I am very happy for both of you.” 

“Thank you, T’Challa. You have no idea how happy I am that you all could come.” 

“We are more than happy to be here. Although my mother has already started to make comments about me not being married yet.”

Bucky laughs. “I’ll try to get her off your back.”

“I’ll hold you to that.” 

“What are you doing?” You walk into your room to find Bucky packing a small bag with your things. 

“It was supposed to be a surprise.” Bucky stops what he’s doing to look at you. 

“What kind of surprise? Are you kicking me out?” 

Bucky rolls his eyes but lets you slide your arms around his neck while his hands rest on your hips. You tilt your head back and smile at him. 

“Why can’t I just surprise you and that’s it? You always have to know everything.” 

“Well what if you’re not packing the right things?” 

“I am. I have a list of what you’ll need. I’m taking care of the kids for the rest of the day so you don’t have to worry.” Bucky says before giving you a kiss. Just as he pulls back the bell rings. “You’ll need this. Now go, I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

You’re intrigued so you hurry down the stairs. From the last step you can hear Henry greeting Duckie.You say her name softly and she looks up, giving you an awkward smile. 

“Don’t ask questions, let's just go.” 

You say goodbye to the kids and then get in the car. “Are you really not going to tell me anything?” 

“Nope.” 

About 45 minutes later you arrive at one of the best hotels in the city. You’re still confused as to why you’re there until you see Wanda, Nat, Sofia, Molly, Pepper, Laura and Sarah in the lobby waiting for you. Nat takes your bag and hands it off to someone while Wanda loops her arm with yours and pulls you towards an entrance that says spa. 

“A spa day?”

“Yes, your lovely fiance wanted to make sure that you were relaxed on the week of your wedding.” Wanda says with a smile.

“And it's also a great way to start your bachelorette party.” Nat adds as she walks next to Wanda. 

“No way. I don’t need a bachelorette party.”

“Yes way. I don’t have to worry about kids, we get a spa day. We are celebrating you.” Laura pipes up and you can see the other women in the group nodding in agreement. 

“Ok, ok. But nothing too crazy.” 

****

The club was packed but you were in the vip section. You were surprised to see that Duckie hadn’t left, instead she sat with Sarah in a corner deep in conversation. Some were partying way more than others, like Sofia. 

After the spa day you had all gone upstairs to a penthouse Pepper booked and you got ready for the evening. You, of course, wore a white mini dress with a sash that said bride to be on it. It had been Sofia’s idea to go dancing. Now she was in the middle of the dance floor having the time of her life. 

“Let’s go dance.” Nat nudges you towards the dance floor. “You can’t say no, it’s your bachelorette party.” 

Wanda takes your hand and pulls you in the direction of your sister. Sofia cheers when she sees you. She takes your hand and pulls you closer so that you can dance together. For the next few songs you dance along with your sister and your closest friends. You get to celebrate the fact that you’ll be marrying the love of your life in just a few short days. The love of your life that you hadn’t seen all day but you are immediately aware of his presence the moment he steps into the club. 

With a twist and sway of your hip you turn until you make eye contact. Bodies move around you to the beat but you keep your eyes on Bucky. He looks so good in his all black outfit and his hair pulled back into a low man bun. You send him a wink and continue to move around hoping that he’d join you on the dance floor. 

“You wanna guess the color of my underwear.” The song changes and you start mouthing the lyrics to him. “You wanna know what I got going on down there.” 

You can see Bucky laugh and shake his head as Steve hands him a drink. His eyes never leave yours though. 

“Is it pretty in pink or all see through?” You wink at him before you decide to turn and sway your hips a little more. 

You feel him coming closer to you and you smile to yourself. Bucky moves through the crowd effortlessly. His hands land on your hips and he pulls you back towards himself. 

“Hi Baby.” You greet him over your shoulders. 

“Hi Sugar.” 

“Having fun?” 

“I am now that I get to see you.” Bucky murmurs into your ear. He moves to the beat of the song. 

“Did you ditch your bachelor party?” 

“No, they’re here.” Bucky nods up to the VIP section and you can see Steve and Sam as well as some of the other guys. “I just missed you.” Bucky says as he turns you around. 

“Aw baby, I missed you too.” 

The two of you sway to the music, you kiss and just enjoy each other’s company. Trapped in your little bubble, uncaring of anyone or anything other than each other. After a while Bucky leads you back to the VIP section. You each get champagne as your friends celebrate your upcoming nuptials. 

“We are going to be so late if we don’t leave right now.” You say in a rush as you finish putting on earrings. 

“Sugar relax. It’s ok if we’re late to our own rehearsal by like five minutes.” 

You raise one eyebrow at him. “The kids aren’t even in the car. We have to go now or we’ll be more than five minutes late.” 

“Ok, I will get the kids settled in the car and we will wait for you.” Bucky says before calling the kids and ushering them out. 

You smooth a hand down your white dress as you do another once over in the mirror. Satisfied with your look you grab your purse and head to the car.

****

“Ok, so usually we have the best man and groom walk in first. But in this case we will have the officiant and the groom walk in together.” Olivia, your wedding planner, stated as she ushered Steve and Bucky down the aisle. “Then we will have Sofia and Joshua, followed by Wanda and Clint. Finally we will have Natasha and Sam.” 

You stood at the back watching as your friends and siblings did as they were told. Bucky stood at the front smiling at you the whole time. 

“Ok, then we will have the ring bearer, that’s you sweetie.” Olivia tells Henry. “All you have to do is carry the rings down the aisle and you can stand right next to Sam.” 

“Ok.”

Henry did it well enough although you worried that he’d be nervous on the actual day of the wedding. Bucky had assured you that they were working on it but he was still your baby and you didn’t want him to be uncomfortable.

“Up next is our precious flower girl.” Olivia smiles at Lottie, who is eager to take her turn. “Now, do you remember what you have to do?”

“Yeah, I throw the flowuhs to make it pretty fo mama.” 

“That’s right. Go on and practice.” Olivia gives Lottie an empty basket so she can practice. Then she turns to you and Eddie. “Alright now it’s your turn. On the day of, the music will change and then you can go.”

Your dad offers you his arm and you take it. He escorts you down the makeshift aisle. You get butterflies as you look up at Bucky waiting for you. He has a beaming smile as he takes your hand. 

“This is where I would start the ceremony.” Steve says, standing proud in front of you and Bucky. 

“Are you ready? This is more important than any mission.” You ask him. 

“Please, of course I’m ready. It’s going to be great. I think I could make this a side gig. Imagine getting Captain America to officiate your wedding.”

“Well we don’t want Captain America, we want our friend Steve to officiate, punk.” Bucky smiles softly at his best friend. “Can you handle that before you start your new job?”

“I guess.” 

“Steven.” You glare at him playfully. 

“Fine I will be the best officiant you’ve ever seen.” 

You wrap your arms around Steve’s midsection. “Thank you. It really means a lot that it’s you up here.” 

Steve hugs you back with a smile. “I’m really glad it’s me too.” 

“Alright, after the ceremony and the kiss we will have the newlyweds walk down the aisle first.” Olivia cuts in, you and Bucky walk back down the aisle first. “Then the ring bearer will escort the flower girl, beautiful. Followed by the rest of the wedding party. This is perfect. Everyone, remember where you go on the big day and things will go smoothly.”

“Thank you Olivia, we wouldn’t have been able to do this in such a short time without you.” 

“It’s what I’m here for.” She smiles. “Now go, I believe you have a reservation.” 

****

The private room was already full with your closest friends and family members. Mostly the wedding party, their families and the rest of the team. There was nothing but love and happiness in the air as you and Bucky went around the room checking in with all your guests. 

“Everyone.” Bucky tapped the side of his champagne glass with his left hand. Once everyone was looking in his direction he cleared his throat. “Y/N and I just wanted to thank you all for being here with us.” 

“I don’t think we have the words to express how much it means to us that we get to share this with you.” You add as you look around to all the smiling faces.  

“Especially considering most of you realized we were in love before we did.” 

“It was about time you put us out of our misery.” Sam jokes. 

“Shut up, Sam.” 

The others chuckle. 

“Anyways, there’s no one else we would want here more than you.” You raise your drink. “Here is to you, our family.” 

The people around you cheer as you and Bucky sit and enjoy the company of your friends and family. This is the last day that you would be his fiancée. From the next day on you would be husband and wife. Partners in life and you couldn’t wait to see what was in store for you. You were more than ready to start this new chapter and sharing every up and down life would throw in your direction. 

Bucky looks at you with nothing but pure love and adoration. You share a moment with him amongst your loved ones. This is where you’re meant to be, by his side. 

You couldn’t wait to be his wife. 

Ch. 40

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[shiro-s2e2-erukinzu]

Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 93... You have been warned...! 👌

[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!

IT HAPPENED...! IT FINALLY HAPPENED!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! AHHHHHHHHHHH!! 😵

Honestly, words cannot describe how crazy this chapter was, but we're gonna talk about it anyway...!! 👀 LET'S GO!!! 😆

The chapter begins with everyone checking how well they did on finals, and Anya did a whole lot better than last time...!! 😆

I AM SO PROUD OF HER!!! 👏😄

Anya went from 213th to 168th place!! 🎉 Let's hope that Anya continues to improve in the future...!! 😊👍

Then, we finally got to see how well she did in Classical Language and...:

She got second place...!

But, she will still receive a Stella for it!! 👏😆Then, we find out that she got 24 points in math, which is just below the cut off point... Which means...:

So, not only did Anya get a Stella, she ALSO received A TONITRUS BOLT!!? 😵😂🤣😌

GODDAMNIT ANYA!! 😂 That means the score is still tied, but now it's 5 and 5 until she either becomes an Imperial Scholar or gets expelled...!! 😌

Then, we got probably my new favorite Loid expression...:

🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂🤣😂 I'M SO SORRY LOID!!🤣

This poor man can't catch a break, but at he's quite proud of Anya for doing well on the test...!! 😊

After that, we cut to Authens praising Anya as well, but Sigmund says something that intrigues me...:

"...One day you'll experience the frustration of realizing that hard work is not always rewarded..."

Hmm... What could this mean...? Personally, if Sigmund does have something to do with the experiments that were conducted on Anya, then this could be his way of saying that not many know of his scientific experiments... But, that's just a guess at this point and I could very well just be reading too much into this single sentence... 🤔

Moving on, before Anya goes to bed that night Loid asks her a question...:

I was surprised that Twilight asked this!! 😲 But his question turned out to be for naught because Anya doesn't really remember... 😔 So, Twilight just tells her to forget about what he asked and now I'm wondering if this will lead Twilight finding out the truth about Anya's past and that she's a telepath... 🤔

Well anyway, we cut to Anya and Damian receiving Stellas for doing well on the test, and then it's the middle school students turn... AND GUESS WHO SHOWS UP...?! 👀

DEMETRIUS MOTHER F---ING DESMOND!!!😵

AFTER ALL THIS TIME, HE HAS FINALLY APPEARED...!! 👀

I can't believe that I was ACTUALLY RIGHT that he was gonna look more like his dad...! (Check out this post where I drew what I thought he might look like!! 👍)

But to continue, Demetrius is also as strange as his mother and father... ESPECIALLY BECAUSE OF THIS...!!:

After finally getting to meet him and seeing that Anya can't read his mind, my original theory that he might be working with his father, just got thrown out the window...!! Because now, I think that Demetrius has been experimented on... 😥 I hope that I'm wrong, but I just don't know this point...

AND THINK THAT'S ENOUGH ABOUT THIS CHAPTER FOR TODAY!

Today's chapter was excellent, but now that Demetrius has finally shown up, my mind is going crazy about what this ALL MEANS!😫

Anyway, I think I'll stop for today and possibly regroup with myself to figure out WHAT IS WRONG WITH THE DESMONDS!! (Except for Damain, who is the only normal one there..! 🥲) So until the next Mission or if I try attempt to figure out what is up with the Desmonds; take care, be safe out there and be kind to one another...!! Later!! 👍

[formulauno98]

Yacht Girl Summer - Chapter Eight / Wednesday/Thursday - George Russell x Reader, Toto Wolff x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Angst!!! This one is mildly spicy, 18+ only. This is going to be a slow burn and if you're uncomfortable with the idea of two-timing don't read this.

Author’s Notes: Disclaimer, purely fiction. No use of Y/N and minimal descriptions because I want everyone/anyone to be able to enjoy this.

WEDNESDAY EVENING CONTINUED

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” said George, his tone angrier than you’d ever heard as he strode towards you, “I fucking knew something was going on. The way you kept looking at each other.”

Having taken several steps back from Toto you were speechless. This was your nightmare come to life. “George…” you started, slowly edging towards him despite feeling the anger pulsating off of him, his face growing redder by the second.

“Don’t even,” he said, breathing heavily, putting a hand out as if to say he didn’t want you coming any nearer.

“George…” started Toto, “George… please let us explain.”

“Toto. No offence but this is between my girlfriend and I. I know you are my boss but please can you leave us?” said George, his tone cool.

Toto hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting between you and George. Finally, he nodded and stepped back. "I'll give you two some space," he said, glancing at you with an expression that was hard to read, part regret, part concern. He left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

George turned to face you, his eyes blazing, "What the fuck?" he demanded, his voice breaking as he added, "I trusted you. I love you."

Tears welled up in your eyes. "George, I'm so sorry, I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. It was a mistake, a horrible mistake."

"A mistake?" he repeated, his voice rising. "How am I supposed to believe that you kissed him by mistake? That looked pretty cosy to me.” he gestured wildly,  “And what do you mean any of this? How long has this been going on?"

Deciding to come semi-clean, you explained, “When we went to the club in Porto Cervo, we kissed. We were outside and it just sort of happened… I told you that night but you were so drunk you woke up and didn’t remember. " you said, your voice cracking. "I didn’t know how to tell you again and I swear, it was just a stupid drunk mistake."

"What the actual fuck? How come I don’t remember this? I think I would have remembered that." George shook his head in disbelief. "I can’t believe you. And Toto as well, I looked up to him. Fuck him."

You reached out to him, but he stepped back once more, his expression pained, "Please, it wasn’t Toto’s fault. Let's talk, we can work through it."

"Work through it?" He let out a bitter laugh. "There's nothing to work through. You've ruined everything we had. Why would I want to be with someone who goes around kissing other men, my boss, behind my back? Fuck, I don’t even want to work for Toto anymore. Do you have any idea how fucked this is?"

Just as he was launching into another tirade, the cabin door creaked open slightly and Marion poked her head in. “Everything okay in here?” she asked cautiously, clearly having heard the shouting.

“Just peachy,” George replied sarcastically. “No offence but can you please leave us alone?”

“Sure, we’ll be out on deck if you need us.” Marion glanced at you with concern before retreating again, closing the door behind her.

The room fell silent, the weight of your actions hanging heavy in the air. George looked at you one last time, his eyes welling up but his jaw tight. "I need some time to think," he said finally. "To be honest, I can't even look at you right now."

He turned sharply and walked out of the cabin, leaving you standing there aghast. You sank onto the bed, tears streaming down your face. How had everything gone so awry? It was all your fault and George didn’t even know the half of it. If he was this furious at just a few kisses, how angry would he be if you told him the entire truth, that you’d slept with Toto?

Throughout your relationship, you had loved George but deep down you knew he wasn’t the one. You had good times together but something never felt quite right and you knew that you’d always play second fiddle to his career. Too many times you’d felt sidelined, cast aside for his next career move. Toto had caught your eye at a vulnerable moment and you’d lost all sense of right and wrong, caught up in a frenzy for a man who you’d never even looked twice at before your trip.

As you sat there sobbing, replaying the events of the last few days in your mind, you wished you could turn back time. Your mind briefly wandered to Toto, wondering whether George had gone to talk to him. You’d never seen your boyfriend so angry and you hoped he would not say something rash in the heat of the moment. Toto was his boss after all, and his job was one he’d worked hard his entire life to secure. 

You knew you couldn't stay in the cabin forever so taking a deep breath, you stood up, wiped away your tears with the back of your hand and prepared to face whatever came next. Whether or not George would forgive you, you at least had to own up to your mistakes and try to make amends.

– – – 

You stepped out of the cabin, making your way along the quiet corridor and outside, the night air cool against your skin. The deck was quiet apart from the sounds of the sea filling the silence. No one else was in sight and you hoped that the rest of the group were not fully aware of the drama that had unfolded. Marion had clocked the shouting but you hoped she believed it just to be between you and George. As you made your way to the lounge area, you spotted George standing alone, leaning on the railing, staring out at the horizon.

You approached him cautiously, your heart pounding in your chest. "George," you said softly, "Can we talk?"

He turned to look at you, his expression unreadable. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, finally, he spoke. "I don't know if I can forgive you," he said quietly. "But yeah sure, I’ll listen."

You nodded, tears welling up again. "Thank you," you whispered, grateful for the chance to at least try and make things right. "I'm so sorry, George. It’s not you, it’s me.”

George rolled his eyes, “Oh yeah that old one?”

Shaking your head you moved closer to George, turning to face him, “Look, I know you’re pissed. And I get it. It’s totally my fault. But I’ve been struggling for a while. Our lives revolve entirely around your work, I feel like it never lets up. We were supposed to be in South Africa and instead, we’re here, with your work colleagues yet again. You ignore me and honestly, anyone would have turned my head. It just happened to be Toto. He spoke to me like I’m an actual person...”

George's gaze softened slightly, though the pain in his eyes was still evident. "I’ll take that. But you could have said something, I never would want you to feel like that. It doesn’t excuse things but I get it. I just don’t get Toto though? Of all people you had to go for my boss, do you know what a mind fuck that is? I’m supposed to respect him and quite honestly I have lost that. You know the worst part? I thought I was going crazy, seeing you making googly eyes at him, dancing, making bets with him. But glad to know I was right.”

"I know," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I honestly can’t explain. I swear i never thought of him like that. Fuck, I didn’t even want to come on this trip, remember?”

“That I believe.” muttered George, “Although you should know, I spoke to him after I walked out.”

Your eyes widened, wondering what the two men had discussed, “Did he apologise?”

“Kind of.” George said, his eyes welling up once more, “He also told me what happened last night.”

Aghast you didn’t know what to say. You hadn’t expected Toto to confess that you’d slept together. Knowing George as you did, you knew there was no coming back from this. “I’m so sorry George,” you said, trembling. “I got carried away.”

“I’m sure you did,” he said, refusing to look you in the eye. “I’m sorry but it’s too much. I might have forgiven a kiss but knowing his wrinkly old hands have been all over you, knowing that he’s fucked you, quite frankly it turns my stomach. I’ve seen him in action in the garage that time and now I can’t get the mental picture of him doing that to you out of my head.”

Dropping your head you didn’t know how to respond. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry does not cut it.” he said curtly, “Look we’re off the boat tomorrow morning. Until then I just want to sleep, but nowhere near you.”

Taken aback by his steely demeanour, you countered, “Maybe we can talk more tomorrow? Come back inside, I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“No.” said George firmly, “I’m done. You can go and sleep with Toto again. I’ll sleep out here. Goodnight.”

With that, he turned back towards the stairs to the sun deck, angrily grabbing a throw pillow and blanket, taking two stairs at a time before turning back, “Enjoy his wrinkly old cock, hope he can’t get it up.”

Floored by George’s parting zinger, you burst into tears for what felt like the millionth time. Knowing it was useless to follow him, you made your way back inside.

– – – 

Once inside, the yacht felt eerily quiet, the hum of conversations and laughter replaced by a heavy, oppressive silence. Reaching the lounge area, you sank into one of the plush armchairs, staring blankly at the dark expanse of the sea visible through the large windows. You tried to clear your mind, but the events of the evening replayed relentlessly.

Suddenly, the door to the lounge creaked open, revealing a tired-looking Toto. He paused for a moment when he saw you, then closed the door behind him quietly. He walked over and sat down across from you, his expression unreadable.

"Did you speak with George?" he asked softly, breaking the silence.

You nodded your head, unable to meet his gaze. "Yep. He says we are done and honestly, I don't blame him."

Toto sighed deeply, rubbing his temples as if trying to alleviate a headache. "I'm sorry. I never meant for things to get this complicated. I got carried away. ”

"It's not your fault," you replied, your voice trembling. "I made my own choices."

Toto looked at you, his eyes filled with regret. "What happens now?"

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "I don't know. George is furious and I can't see him forgiving me anytime soon. As for us... I think it's best if we keep our distance. This was a mistake and we both know it."

He shook his head slowly, the weight of your words sinking in. "I don’t see it that way, I rarely feel this way about anybody."

Your eyes met his once more, he seemed sincere but Cara’s warning swam around in your head. Was he a playboy, just messing with your head?

“Can you give me some time?” you asked, your voice cracking with emotion.

“Of course,” he said, reaching across and taking your hand in his, squeezing lightly, “Good things are worth the wait. ”

Silence fell between you again, the tension in the room almost palpable. Finally, Toto dropped your hand and stood up, his expression weary. "Look it’s late, I’m going to head to bed. I don’t want to sound forward but if you don’t want to be alone you can come with me?”

Gulping you replied, “I’m not sure if now is the time. But thank you.”

“Understood,” he said, crossing the space between you, enveloping you in a warm embrace. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he murmured gently “Try and get some sleep, you know where I am if you need me.”

You nodded, watching as he left the room, his footsteps echoing down the corridor. Alone once more, you sat there for a while longer, lost in thought. Eventually, exhaustion overcame you, and you made your way back to your cabin, your bed cold and lonely. You lay down, staring at the ceiling, sleep eluding you as you contemplated the mess you'd made of your relationship with George.

THURSDAY MORNING

The next morning, the yacht was still save for the distant sounds of the crew preparing for departure, checking the boat one more time. You lay in bed for a few moments longer, gathering the strength to face the day and most importantly face George. You dreaded breakfast but knew you had to make an effort one last time. 

– – – 

Having gotten dressed and finished packing your bags, you stepped out of your cabin. In horrid timing, George was making his way along the corridor, his eyes hollow. He huffed as he brushed past you, ignoring your morning greeting and abruptly slamming your cabin door behind him.

Sighing, you decided it was safest to leave him to his own devices. He was mostly a gentle-natured guy but you knew he had a temper and for the first time you found yourself on the other end of it. It was understandable given your actions but it still stung.

Making your way to the breakfast table you were relieved to find that your fellow guests were yet to arrive. Settling down alone, you helped yourself to a croissant and some fruit, contemplating the morning ahead as you tried your best to eat and quell your nerves.

“Morning my darling,” came a kind voice from behind you. It was Cara.

“Morning,” you replied, raising a half-hearted smile as you turned to greet her. “Sleep well?”

“So well thank you,” she said, taking the seat beside you, before dropping her voice, “How are you? Marion told us she interrupted you and George having a lover’s tiff last night.”

Unsure of how to respond, you stuttered, “Ugh… yeah, we had a bit of an argument. It’s okay though, just cabin fever. Literally.”

Cara raised her eyebrow, “And nothing to do with our tall dark and handsome Austrian friend?”

Taken aback by her ability to see through you, you kept your voice hushed as you replied, “No, just George, but it’s okay, honestly don’t worry.”

Looking unconvinced, fortunately, Cara was somewhat distracted as your fellow guests emerged one by one until the only ones missing were Toto and George. Conspicuous in their absence, she turned and asked, “Where has George gotten to?”

Fortunately, you didn’t have to answer as he suddenly appeared from inside, Toto not far behind him. Their expressions were steely and you knew they must have been talking again.

“Good morning everyone,” said Toto smoothly, taking his seat at the head of the table beside you, George settling at the other end, staunchly continuing to ignore your very existence.

"Morning," George muttered curtly, grabbing a slice of toast without looking at anyone. The atmosphere around the table shifted uncomfortably, everyone picking up on the tension. You forced a smile, trying to maintain a semblance of normality.

"So," began Cara brightly, clearly attempting to break the uncomfortable tension, "What are everyone's plans after we dock?"

John, ever the optimist, chimed in first. "I've got a flight to the UK. Back to the grind, you know."

Marion nodded in agreement. "And I'll be heading back to London. Lots to catch up on at the office."

"I’m heading back to the UK too," George replied tersely, his eyes fixed on his plate.

"Oh, that sounds nice," Cara said, her tone a bit too enthusiastic. "And you?" she directed her gaze towards you and Toto.

Toto cleared his throat, glancing at you briefly. "I’ll be staying in Monaco. Busy week ahead."

"I’m heading back to the UK too," you added, your voice sounding strained even to your own ears. "Work, you know."

The rest of breakfast passed in strained silence, punctuated only by the clinking of cutlery and forced attempts at small talk. George kept to himself, barely acknowledging anyone's presence, while Toto made an effort to engage in polite conversation and thank the group for joining him for the week. You couldn’t shake the feeling of being on the edge of a precipice, everything in your life poised to either fall apart or somehow come together.

After breakfast, the group gathered their belongings and prepared to disembark. Having already packed, you found yourself standing on the deck, staring out at the horizon, the yacht gently swaying. The trip was ending and you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what came next.

Lost in your thoughts, Toto caught you off guard as he grabbed your arm gently. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice low and concerned.

You nodded, though your eyes told a different story. “I’ll manage,” you replied quietly, pulling your arm free. “I need to talk to George one last time before we leave.”

Toto nodded understandingly. “If you need anything, I’m here,” he said, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before walking away.

With a deep breath, you headed back to your cabin. George was inside, sitting on the edge of the bed, his bags packed and ready to go. He didn’t look up as you entered, his gaze fixed on the floor.

“George, please,” you began, your voice trembling. “Can we talk?”

He sighed heavily, finally meeting your eyes. “What more is there to talk about? You made your choice.”

“I made a mistake,” you pleaded. “I know I hurt you and I’m so sorry. But can’t we at least try to work things out? We’ve been through so much together.”

George shook his head, his expression one of resigned sadness. “I can’t. Not after this. Every time I look at you, I’ll be reminded of what happened. And Toto... he’s my boss. How am I supposed to go back to work after this?”

Tears streamed down your face as you realized the depth of the damage you’d caused. “I never wanted to hurt you,” you whispered. “I love you, George.”

He stood up, grabbing his bags. “I loved you too. But it’s over. I can’t do this anymore.”

With that, he walked past you and out of the cabin, leaving you standing there, heartbroken and alone.

– – – 

The rest of the morning passed in a blur. You managed to gather your things and make your way to the dock without breaking down completely. The group had said their goodbyes, the atmosphere noticeably more subdued than when the trip began. Friendly as ever, Cara and Marion had promised to keep in touch but you knew that ending things with George would mean you would likely never see them again.

Having pre-arranged your transfers you were stuck in the awkward situation of sharing a car to the airport and a flight with George. You hoped that you could perhaps change seats and not have to endure the ninety-minute flight in tense silence.

Bidding goodbye to Toto, all too aware of George’s eyes on the two of you, you tried your best to appear no more than friendly. Kissing him on the cheek as you thanked him one more time for his hospitality as he whispered for only you to hear, “I will drop you a message.”

Nodding fractionally, you turned away to board the small launch that would take you back to the mainland, catching sight of George saying goodbye to Toto, their conversation appearing civil but strained. He glanced your way for a brief moment, his expression unreadable, before turning back to his boss. 

– – – 

The drive back to the airport was quiet, the mood sombre. George sat across from you, as far away as possible, staring out the window. As the glittering blue seaside scenery whizzed past you tried your best to remain stoic. It was only a twenty-minute car journey, you could make it through this.

Having spent the journey ignoring you, George finally turned to you as you made your way into the departures lounge at Nice Airport. "I guess this is it," he said, his voice flat. "I’ll send someone to get my things from your apartment."

"George, please," you began, tears welling up again.

"No," he cut you off, his eyes cold. "It's over. Goodbye."

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[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Chapter 105.5 Thoughts: Control, Manipulation and Partnership

Or, how Chuuya is actually the most qualified character to land a victory over Dostoevsky.

I just want to preface this with: I think Chuuya has woken from the brainwashing. We can't see his eyes, he's holding his hat again, and look at the progression of his face and expression from the last few chapters with him (these are in order btw from left to right).

I'm not completely sure how he did this, but I chalk a lot of it up to sheer stubborn determination on Chuuya's part, mostly because it's funny and he was clearly fighting back before Dazai's speech. However, I find it likely the speech did contain some kind of code - others have pointed out how "Goodbye!" might be a reference to the original author's last unfinished book and we know skk's codenames for things generally are based off their real counterparts' works so, maybe he'd already broken out of it, maybe there was something in there that gave him the final push - who knows at this point honestly? Either way, it means Chuuya had the capacity to break out of the vampire curse on his own and that's incredibly funny to me for many reasons but mostly:

Fyodor: "Bold of you to assume Chuuya's ability can't overcome flooding."

Dazai: "Bold of you to assume Chuuya's personality can't overcome brainwashing."

But really, this highlights something interesting here, both in what Chuuya's role is ultimately intended to be in this arc, and in the way Fyodor and Dazai manipulate and value others in very different ways.

I've said it before but it bears repeating: we already know that Fyodor is an excellent long-term planner, while Dazai is effectively able to counter him because Dazai shifts into thinking like his opponent. They're foil characters for a reason; they're both highly intelligent, manipulative, and willing to play the long game for the sake of winning against their opponent.

Thing is, I also stand by the idea that personality-wise, they're not similar at all - and that has serious implications for the people they are connected with. The build-up to the prison escape arc really highlights this. Some examples:

Chapter 46: Fyodor believes that all people are sinful and foolish and that his goal is to remove sin. Dazai believes that all people are sinful and foolish but asks what's so wrong with that.

Chapter 64: They decide to have a "super-happy chit-chat" about their problems. Dazai's solution to Fyodor's issue with his lazy subordinates is to get them to think lazing around is a bad thing so they will put in effort of their own. Fyodor's solution to Dazai being unable to woo the waitress is to isolate her from her job, house and family so that she can only rely on Dazai.

Chapter 77: Fyodor believes god is perfection and harmony, and thus that the people capable of change are the superior ones with most control. Dazai believes god is the accidental and illogical and believes it is the ordinary people who fight and live in that uncertainty who create the greatest change.

So, what's happening here? Fyodor's manipulation is shown to be very exacting and direct. He leaves no room for error and regards people on a hierarchy - God above all, himself as a servant of God's will, and the sinful and foolish humans he has little regard for. Dazai's manipulation involves manipulation of the situation, and is often indirect. It involves people coming to the conclusion he intends for them to on their own. And from his later dialogue with Sigma, we see he doesn't regard the world in that same kind of hierarchy.

Now, look at the way Fyodor picks an item and Dazai picks a person when starting the game. Look at the way Fyodor refers to Chuuya respectfully but brainwashes him entirely and mocks Dazai for not being worthy of "using" his ability. Look at the way Dazai is a complete ass to Chuuya but ultimately lets him make his own choices (begging people to take note of that moment in Stormbringer where Dazai cuts himself off to correct his referring to Corruption as Arahabaki's true power to Chuuya's true power).

So, the actual strength Dazai has over Dostoevsky then, is not really his strength at all, it's the strength of others and their choice and willpower to act in the way they believe is best. It's the only means of getting a leg up on Dostoevsky, otherwise they will continue to go around and around in circles forever.

And Chuuya is the best candidate for finally throwing Fyodor off his game.

Firstly, let's just establish something: no matter how mad he is at Dazai, he's not going to side with Fyodor, not willingly. Fyodor threatened the Mafia in the Cannibalism arc by attacking Mori, first of all. I doubt he's forgiven him for that. Secondly, Fyodor embodies everything Chuuya can't stand about Dazai, at the very least, younger Dazai - the manipulation, the lack of consideration and connection with others, the callousness and lack of regard for life.

Well, perhaps he's not quite as irritating. +1 point for Dostoevsky I guess?

But lastly, it is more advantageous for Chuuya at this point to help fight against Fyodor, especially since most of the Mafia has been vampirized by his organization. Helping the Agency stop the terrorist plot will help the Mafia by extension by undoing that. And we know from Stormbringer that no matter how much Chuuya is personally hurt, he considers taking out the threat to his people a higher priority. Always.

(You could make the argument that he was told whatever Teruko told Atsushi and decided to join, but not only do I find this wildly out of character, but if that was the case then there would've been no reason to brainwash him.)

That said, I don't think this was preemptive "Dazai's master plan #3057", and in fact, I stand by the idea that Dazai had no idea Chuuya was going to be in the prison. It is very, very important to me that for the rest of this arc, no matter what Chuuya does, that his actions are his own. Not Fyodor's, not Dazai's, but his. And not just because I hate that he's being controlled right now and that freedom of choice has always been important for Chuuya.

But because it makes narrative sense.

The vampires are a bit silly, yes, but they represent the way Fyodor and Fukuchi think - humanity will commit atrocities. They cannot be trusted to make their own decisions. They want to make a world that is free by... mind-controlling people so their plans work without a hitch. In short, they choose, on behalf of others, to sacrifice human autonomy for peace. So, if we are going to turn this arc around, we need to have characters breaking out of that control and thinking for themselves, in spite of the uncertainty of the outcome.

We already see this with Atsushi in the last chapter! He finally takes initiative and makes that choice to leave the room when he doesn't exactly know what the right thing to do is. And this is also why I don't think Teruko is wholly convinced by the DoA either - she lets him go. She gives him the freedom to choose what he does with that information.

Another one of the focus characters here is Sigma. Sigma is a guy who has no past, whose humanity is questioned, who keeps being used by organizations for his valuable ability, who has no home but desperately wants one... oh wait. Remind you of anyone's younger self? This could go one of two ways: Chuuya fails to assert his autonomy, leaving Sigma to learn from that failure, or, Chuuya succeeds in asserting his autonomy, leaving Sigma to learn from his success.

I think it, by necessity, has to be the latter. Sigma's at a tipping point right now, and I think seeing someone try to assert their freedom only to fail would damage him greatly. And I think it's a waste of Chuuya's character honestly.

Chuuya needs to assert his autonomy in this arc. Not just for thematic reasons but because I can think of no one else who can effectively break the "super-genius stalemate".

I keep hearing "Dazai knows Chuuya" in response to Fyodor calling their bond shallow, and that is absolutely true! But Chuuya also knows Dazai. Incredibly well. Odasaku knew Dazai's soul, but Chuuya knows Dazai's mind, knows his strategies and ways of thinking without even needing words. What's more, Chuuya has thrown off Dazai before and done what he didn't expect him to.

Which is nifty, because Dazai and Fyodor think a lot alike. Chuuya is in a unique position to thwart Dostoevsky because he may actually be able to predict him to a degree. Chuuya can absolutely land a victory against him, and it's excellent because it would be completely unexpected to Fyodor, who apparently thinks Chuuya's strength lies only in what his ability has to offer and not much else.

But listen. This also can't be skk's plan. I need Chuuya to sideline both of them. Both for the sweet, sweet catharsis of putting those two idiot geniuses in their places and also because I need Dazai to have screwed up. He wasn't wrong about people making their own choices in uncertainty. People need to assert their autonomy to create change. Dazai can't be wrong in this regard.

But with going ahead with the trap to drown Fyodor despite also having to drown Chuuya when he promised not to let him get killed... this needs to have been a mistake, otherwise the value of Dazai's emotional speech to him is diminished.

I want Dazai to try to laugh it off. I want him to say he always knew Chuuya would escape and then for Chuuya to deck him because "no, the fuck you didn't".

I really think Dazai hoped Chuuya would make it. Do remember that Chuuya was one of the first reasons young Dazai decided to try giving life a chance. The fact that he flashbacked to all his key memories with Chuuya says a lot. But his survival was no guarantee and it seemed very unlikely.

So, Chuuya is faced with the fact that Dazai nearly sacrificed him to kill Dostoevsky and save his new Agency friends.

And I hope he finally gets mad. I hope he finally expresses hurt on his own behalf for once. I hope they are forced to break their status quo that they have carefully maintained by not talking about anything ever. I hope they are pushed to uncomfortable places and that it is Chuuya who finally spurs this development.

Let Chuuya break the stalemate between Dazai and Dostoevsky. Let him shatter the status quo that him and Dazai have kept going for year after year.

Autonomous action in the face of uncertainty is necessary for change.

[emersonfreepress]

help i'm alive

So! Long time, no see. 2023 was a whole goddamn lot lol

I don't have a demo update to share yet, but that's because I had to scrap nearly everything I managed to write during a very, very, very bad stint of writer's block last year. I hadn't even realized it had been a block like that until I went over my work so far last month and realized it was bad -- like, trust me; a slog to read that didn't even sound like me. It's been extremely frustrating but I've finally broken free of that and it's been easy and actually fun to write again for the first time in actual years. I just hate giving updates that have no actual news in them. And I really had nothing to share other than: I deleted thousands of words and feel so much better now 😅

Anyway, little about my demo plans have changed: I'm still putting out the Chapter 3 demos in Choicescript/on Dashingdon and then will be going dark to move things over to Twine. Where I am in the process right now is... feeling like 35% done with the overhauled version of this chapter and 50% done for the next demo update.

As far as asks, I'm... not really sure what to do?? I believe I've read them all (I love you guys), but so much time has passed since getting most of them that I'm not sure if it's, like... still pertinent??? To go back and answer them?? I suppose some of them like character asks could be, but all the nice messages of support -- that feels weird since I've practically ghosted this blog since August! Idk. Y'all tell me what to do with 'em and I'll do it. Maybe I should make a poll.

Uh... that's really all there is to say regarding the game! I've added some personal stuff after the cut, but if you're done here: Thanks for reading and sticking around. It means the world, for real.

So what has occupied my time all this time? Doctor, therapy, money, and friends. And improv! But especially the first two. There was a lot of non-writing related stuff fucking up my ability to focus and write, so hopefully with my mind and body both feeling a lot better, I can get back to being present and active with the game. I didn't realize how physically unwell I was until last year and it's been like... life-long issues I've been treating. It turns out it's not normal to feel exhausted enough to sleep at any given time, at all times, for your whole life! wow!!

I also uninstalled Tumblr from my phone back in February, so you could say I'm sort of generally focused on offline life. (And what an interesting coincidence that my writer's block dissipated shortly after that...) I also just moved!! The last two weekends have been so expensive and stressful -_- But I can't even compare the old place to the new. We're basically paying the same price for idek how much more space. The cats are so happy; which means the house humans get to be happy.

My schedule is finally freed up from constant medical shit (there was a 3-month stretch this winter with multiple doctor appointments literally every fucking week 🙃🙃🙃). My mental health is doing a lot better -- literally incomparably better compared to where I was this time last year. There's live comedy now (which I dabble in, to be clear lol), but I've finally found myself able to like... balance it all. The physical and creative energy that goes into it all, anyway. The lovely thing about improv is that you kinda just show up and do your thing -- it doesn't cut into my writing time so much as it costs energy. Unless I end up in this comedy debate show thing next month, which I am very excited to give up writing time for

So like... Life is life-ing and I'm just vibing. Or something? I'll be around.

Thank you all again so much for your interest, support, patience, and readership <3

[sarawritesfics]

₊⊹ his favourite engineer | CL16

✧.* summary ; can the monegasque ferrari driver fix the shy workaholic?

✧.* authors note ; my first ever fic! vvvv excited about how this ones turned out - *written in the third person*

Chapter One

It was silent in the Ferrari garage. Apart from the slight clicking of keys in the office sector.

She was the only person in the building, the bright screen illuminating her light skin and and emerald green eyes as her slim fingers clicked rapidly against the keyboard on the desk in front of her.

Olivia took great pride in her work. Not only was she an engineer for the Ferrari F1 team, but she was one of their best. And she solemnly believed that it was because she worked as often as she possibly could.

She would spend as much of her time as she could working on bits that needed finishing or making adjustments and tweaking things. She was all too aware that by working 24/7, her private life barely existed.

Work, drink coffee, work, maybe sleep, repeat.

But she sort of liked it that way. She was a very timid girl growing up and she carried that shyness into her adulthood. But enjoying being alone most of the time didn't mean that she wouldn't like to find a hobby that she actually enjoyed. (but she very much struggled with that as she was always too tired)

Olivia was at peace when she was at work. It was her happy place. Mainly because she didn't have any hobbies and therefore was utterly bored when she wasn't working.

But she was ambitious, and she adored the fact that it seemed impossible for her to get burnt out or for her excellent work ethic to ever slow down.

She never failed to lose track of time.

"I won't be as late out tonight!" she'd tell her colleagues when they left the building at a reasonable 5pm.

But of course, that never happened.

It was 8am when she arrived to the garage that morning. A Thursday, in the humid Canada. But now she'd lost track of time as per. And the clock she hadn't bothered to check read 1am.

As well as failing to notice the clock, she also failed to notice the whole other person whom had entered the office. It wasn't until she heard a voice behind her that she paused her work for a moment.

"Isn't It too late for you to be working?"

She recognised that deep french accented tone.

It was Charles Leclerc, one of the two Ferrari drivers. Her and him had never really crossed paths, but they had spoken once or twice at team meetings and to her, he seemed pretty alright. To him, she was beautiful.

Olivia carefully spun around in her chair as she glanced at the clock, finally noting the late time.

"Guess I lost track of time," she sighed.

Charles chuckled and shook his head lightly as he moved to lean against the wall next to her, "As always," he crossed his arms over his chest, "You know, It's late. You should be back at your hotel by now. You should've been back ages ago."

"I just need to finish a few things." she replied to him as she fiddled with her hands in her lap.

He rolled his eyes, "It can wait, you know." he said as a small smile grew on his face.

"But what If It can't?" she replied quietly. She always was paranoid that If she decided to skip out on even the smallest of tasks, she would come in the next day and the team would need it desperately.

He dropped his voice a tad lower in slight concern, "You need to take care of yourself at some point. When's the last time you slept?"

Olivia stayed quiet as she had taken a pen off the desk and was fidgeting with the lid.

Charles was silent for a few moments, studying her face before he spoke again, "Seriously? Don't you think It's time for you to call It a night? You must be exhausted."

"I have my coffee to keep me going." she reassured the man in front of her as she softly gestured towards the cup of, now lukewarm, coffee on her desk behind her.

He laughed softly and and reached his hand out, carefully taking the cup from her desk and holding it tight. "Aaaand I'm cutting your caffeine sources for the night. How many have you had?"

"More than three."

Charles' eyes widened slightly in disbelief, a hint of concern crossing his face at the same time, "In total today or just tonight?" he questioned.

"Just tonight. Since everyone else left, and that was around five ish." Olivia replied, looking back down at her fidgeting hands. Unable to meet his gaze.

"You're telling me you've drunk more than three cups of coffee tonight alone? Olivia that's insane! Are you trying to develop a caffeine dependency or something?" He replied, concerned for her well-being more than ever at this point.

"No, I'm staying awake. That's what I'm doing." She said In her usual shy manner, although she was confused as to why he cared so much.

"By pumping yourself full of caffeine? Seriously, do you think that's healthy?" Charles asked her in a gentle yet concerned tone.

Olivia sighed lightly before moving her gaze up to meet his, "Look, I know It's not the healthiest thing ever, alright? But I need to get this work done so If you could please leave me be."

He huffed faintly at her persistence and delusion, "You always put your work above yourself. When was the last time you had a decent night's sleep?" he questioned, crossing his arms again after he put the coffee cup on the desk beside hers.

"Last night, now go." Olivia said quickly as she spun back around in her chair to continue working.

Charles wasn't buying it for a second and knew she was just trying to get him to leave quicker, "Last night? You expect me to believe that? The bags under your eyes tell a different story." He stated, not moving from his spot despite her request.

Olivia ignored him and continued to work, tapping away at the keys in front of her. She couldn't understand why he cared so much. She was just an engineer. Right..?

He let out another huff, annoyed that she wasn't listening to him. He pushed himself up from leaning on the wall beside her and stepped closer, gently grabbing her arm, "Hey, I'm serious. This needs to stop. You're going to work yourself into exhaustion."

"I'm not doing such a thing." She replied without looking up from her computer screen as she typed in all sorts of information and formulas.

"That's exactly what you're doing. You're a workaholic, and it's not healthy," Charles replied firmly, not letting go of her arm, "You're going to burn yourself out if you keep going like this."

She sighed, why was he so persistent? "You aren't even supposed to be in this sector of the garage. Drivers aren't supposed to see engineer workings until they're official plans."

"Right now, that's the least of my concerns," his tone was gentle but firm, "Listen, I care about you. You're constantly working, barely sleeping or eating, it's not healthy."

Olivia's tone was surprised and tinged with slight disbelief, "Why do you care about me? I'm just one of the engineers. I'm no different to the rest."

Charles rolled his eyes, slightly frustrated by her dismissive tone, but his tone remained gentle, "Come on, stop acting like you're just some random employee. You're an engineer, sure, but you're also an important person. We wouldn't have achieved even half of our successes if it weren't for your work."

"Exactly, that's why I'm working now." She replied calmly as she continued to type things into her computer with her free hands, despite his hand being on her arm.

A third huff left his mouth, fed up with her stubbornness. "No, that's not what I meant and you know it. You're working yourself to the bone and it's not sustainable." She turned to look up at him, making his arm drop back to his side. "You need to take a break. You are not a robot, you have limits." He added.

Olivia sighed faintly and after a few moments of consideration she realised this was not a battle worth fighting during her current level of weariness. "Fine. I'll go back to the hotel."

Charles was pleased that she had finally agreed to leave for the night, but his concern didn't diminish. "Thank you. At least that's a start."

1.4k words CHAPTER TWO

ooooh!! what do we thinkkkk??? i'm so happy with how this first chapter has turned out. so excited to see what you guys think!<3

feedback and constructive criticism welcome!

navigation

[redroomreflections]

Hotel California | Track 3: Metal Voices

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Natasha Romanoff, frontwoman of the punk rock band Velvet Rebellion, falls hard for a woman she believes is too good for her. Their intense relationship unfolds in the chaotic world of rock 'n' roll, where they struggle to balance fame, personal demons, and their undeniable passion for each other.

W/c: 5.8k

Chapter 3/12

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Note: I can't tell if y'all are rocking with this one or not but Imma keep uploading.

Themes: love, fame, sex, drugs

You lay soundly asleep, nestled in your warm cocoon of blankets, the soft comfort of slumber wrapping around you like a cozy embrace. Your fatigue from a long week had finally caught up with you, and your dreams were painted with peaceful serenity.

But then, as if summoned by a mischievous fairy, you felt tiny hands tapping your arm. The gentle, persistent taps grew stronger until they became an undeniable summons from the waking world. Reluctantly, you stirred, your eyelids heavy with the remnants of sleep.

As you blinked yourself into awareness, you found yourself face to face with Isabella who was looking down at you in annoyance. You mumbled groggily, "Too early, Isabella, go back to bed."

Isabella, not one to give in easily, shook her head. "Mama, it's not early. It's noon! I’m going to be late for Lenny’s skate party!"

You blinked in disbelief at the time, grabbed your phone from the nightstand to find the truth, and then threw yourself back into the pillows with a groan." Noon already?” You rubbed a hand over your face. 

Isabella's tone turned stern as she scolded, "Sleeping in until noon is unacceptable, Mama. You promised you'd help me get ready for the party."

You couldn't help but smile at your daughter's seriousness, and you felt a rush of gratitude for having such a responsible child. You glanced at the nightstand and saw a glass of water and aspirin neatly arranged, a thoughtful gesture from Isabella.

You reached for the water and aspirin, whispering your thanks, and then turned to Isabella with a mischievous grin. "You know, being a mom is hard work. Sometimes, moms need a little extra sleep to keep up with their super responsible daughters."

Isabella rolled her eyes, giving you a playful but loving look of disbelief. "It’s hard being the boss.” She shook her head. She crawled into bed beside you and leaned into your side. Her cheek pressed against yours. It was often she practically wanted to live in your skin. 

The feeling was mutual.

"You can be the boss later, sweetheart. But right now, can you just let Mama get her bearings and drink this water?"

Isabella sighed. "I bet North West doesn't have to deal with this."

You chuckled, kissing Isabella's hair. "No, I'm sure she doesn't. But you know what? I'd trade a hundred Kardashian daughters for my one."

Isabella's lips curled into a pleased smile and she snuggled deeper into your side.

"Grandma told me a lot of things last night," She began.

"Like what? You were supposed to be sleeping when I left you," You downed your water and aspirin.

"She let me watch Wendy Williams reruns," She smirked.

"I don't believe it," You narrowed your eyes. "Did you steal her phone?"

"Maybe," She shrugged. "Anyway, I saw you when you were a kid. Well, a teenager I guess. Before you had me. Wendy kept saying how getting pregnant was a disaster and how everything was going to change and that you were throwing your career away."

You sighed, "Sweetheart..." Setting your cup of water down. You certainly didn't think you would be talking about this. “I wouldn’t even call it a career.” 

"I'm not offended, actually," Isabella stopped you. "I kind of think it's true. You don't sing much anymore. Only to me and in the shower."

"Do you want me to sing more?" You asked, slightly concerned.

"I just don't understand why you're not a star." Isabella sat up. "You could be bigger than Beyonce'."

"Well, I couldn't sing onstage when you were growing inside my belly," You chuckled, running your hands over her hair. "Also, bigger than Beyonce is a stretch but I'm glad you're as delusional as me."

"And you stopped after you had me, didn't you?" She looked at you with big curious eyes. "You didn't even try?"

"No," You answered, not really wanting to discuss your past.

"Why?" She tilted her head. "You're really good, Mama. Grandad could definitely get some things set up for you. Or I know. Natasha from the band. You two are dating now right?"

You shook your head. "We're just friends, Isabella. It's not like that. We're not serious. Plus, she has her own thing going on right now."

"Well, then why not do something with the band?" She suggested, clearly not taking no for an answer.

"I don't feel comfortable about that, Isabella," You said. "I have you to think about. I like my life right now as it is. I like my job."

"But I've got to have a rockstar mother, Mama!" Isabella threw herself back into the pillows. "It's embarrassing enough that my best friend's mother is a pop princess, but now my own mother isn't even a musician?"

"Well, my cushy job provided you with this house and all of your gymnastics gear, musician or not," You poked at her. "I'm going to tell my mom we need to put passcodes on every single electronic in the house. You get too many ideas."

"It's true," Isabella pouted.

"Isabella, if you love me, you'll accept that I'm not a performer. I'm a boring, everyday working mom. That's the only thing that's true about what Wendy said."

Isabella sat up. "But Mama, don't you ever feel like there's a part of you missing?"

You thought for a moment. "No. I'm perfectly complete. I have the best daughter I could ever ask for."

"You haven't been with anyone in years," She pointed out. "Your cookies are going to be all dried up."

"Do you even have any idea what that means?" You raised a brow. God, you weren’t ready for that talk yet. 

"No, I heard Aunt Monica say it," She said innocently.

"That woman has so many issues," You said, shaking your head. "Now, do you want to keep talking about my life or do you want to go and live yours and go to the skate party?"

"Okay," She said, getting up and stretching. "Just think about it, Mama."

"I will," You lied. "Now go get dressed and we'll get your hair done."

"Thanks, Mama." She kissed your cheek before leaving the room.

You took a deep breath, your mind swimming with the thoughts of the past. You couldn't deny that sometimes, there were moments where you missed it all. Then you remember that you're content. You enjoy your schedule. You like being home every day in time for dinner with Isabella.

Her question was valid. You hadn't been in a committed relationship since Sam, her father. That entire breakup had ruined you, even if you did end it on amicable terms. The thought of being with anyone else wasn't exactly appealing. You liked to focus on your daughter and work. Though that kiss with Natasha last night was something. It's a spur-of-the-moment thing if you will. A great end to the night. She's a rockstar. No way she had time for you.

But if she did, would you let her?

You shook the thoughts away and got up, getting ready for the day.

********************

“I’ll have bacon, eggs, and a side of toast,” Steve ordered from the cafe waitress. Across from him, Natasha stirred her coffee absentmindedly, staring out of the diner window. 

“Had a good night?” Steve asked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned back in his chair. 

Natasha smirked memories of her kiss with you flashing in her mind. “Yeah, you could say that. You?”

Steve chuckled. “Nothing too wild. I just crashed after the party. Where did you duck off to?”

Natasha took a sip of her coffee before answering, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Y/n and I decided to go and talk. We ended up at a little restaurant a few blocks down," She shrugged nonchalantly.

"Mhm," Steve hummed, unconvinced. "Just talked?"

"Just talked," Natasha rolled her eyes. "Why do you guys all think I'm some sort of womanizer?"

"Because you are," Steve laughed, and Natasha couldn't help but laugh along with him.

"Yeah, okay, fair point," She conceded. "But we did just talk. I like her. She's cool,"

Steve raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile on his face. "I can tell. Do you think it's going to be something? So soon after Carol?"

"Who knows," Natasha shrugged. "But it was nice to feel that connection again."

Steve nodded a small smile on his lips. "That's good. You deserve someone who makes you feel like that,"

Natasha's expression softened her usual mask of bravado. "She's Nick Fury's daughter. You know the music mogul dude."

"Wow, she's way out of your league then," Steve chuckled.

"Shut up," Natasha laughed, kicking him playfully under the table.

"Maybe you could slide her dad one of our tapes," He suggested.

"No, it's not like that," Natasha shook her head. "I'm not trying to get with her for that. I like her."

"I know, Nat," Steve said. "But you can't blame me for trying."

"You're an idiot, Rogers," Natasha laughed.

"A lovable one, though," Steve grinned, his eyes twinkling. “Speaking of management.” 

Natasha sighed, already anticipating the conversation. “The label thing again?”

Steve nodded, pausing only for the waitress to set down their finished meals. “Tony’s been pushing for it. He thinks it’s our ticket to the big leagues. And Wanda’s on board too. But it’s more than that, Nat. We need better management. The gigs, the travel, it’s all starting to take a toll.”

Natasha leaned back, running a hand through her hair. “I get that, but signing with a label? We’ll lose control, Steve. They’ll want to shape us, change our sound. We’ve always been about doing things our way.”

“I know,” Steve said gently. “But think about the opportunities. Better venues, more exposure. We could reach so many more people.”

Natasha frowned, the conflict evident in her eyes. “It’s just... I’m not sure I want to deal with all that corporate bullshit. I want our music to stay pure, you know?”

Steve nodded, giving her an encouraging smile. “I understand. But we don't have to decide anything right away. Just think about it, okay? For the band."

Natasha took a bite of her eggs, chewing thoughtfully. "Okay, I'll think about it," She said finally.

The two continued their breakfast in comfortable silence, both lost in their own thoughts.

Natasha took a long swig of her coffee. "I know you're right, and I don't want to lose the band over my stubbornness. I'll think about it, but for now, we've got a gig to prepare for. Are you in?"

Steve smiled and extended his fist, which Natasha bumped with her own. "Always."

As the day passed, Natasha couldn't shake the thought of her kiss with you. She knew it was silly, but she couldn't help the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach whenever she thought about you. 

*********

You stood by the edge of the rink, watching Isabella glide across the wooden floor with Lenny. The kids were laughing, carefree and happy. You smiled, feeling a warmth in your chest as you watched the friends bond over their time together.

Isabella looked up, waving excitedly at you.

"Look, Mama! Lenny and I are gonna skate backward!" She exclaimed, and you held a thumbs up in response. "I've watched so many Tiktoks about this."

"Go get 'em, kiddo," You chuckled.

Isabella stood before you, holding her hands out to keep her balance, as she used the muscles in her legs to push her backward. She looked so cute and you snapped a photo.

"Look at my baby, all grown up and skating," You smiled, watching her.

"That's my favorite grandbaby," Your mother came up behind you, and you wrapped your arm around her shoulders.

"Your only grandbaby," You reminded her. She waved you off with a laugh. "I'm glad you could make it here with us. How's dad?"

"Busy," Your mother said. "As always."

"Where in the world is he now? Bali?" You asked. "I tried calling him this morning but his phone went straight to voicemail. " Having a music mogul father had its ups and downs. His being unavailable when you wanted to talk randomly was one of them.

"He's in London," She informed you. "He's setting something up for some young girl from the X-Factor. He's also in talks about a possible Broadway production."

"Ah, so he's not tired yet," You sighed. "I told that man he needs to sit down. Come and enjoy being a grandparent." You shook your head fondly.

"You know your father. He's not going to stop until he's six feet under."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," You laughed, glancing over at her. "Oh, before I forget. Isabella saw some things last night."

"Oh?"

"On the internet," You clarified.

"Oh," She frowned. "I fell asleep shortly after you left."

"Yeah, apparently, Isabella saw some clips of my past and was asking me questions," You said, rubbing the back of your neck. "She seems to have this fantasy of me becoming a famous singer."

"Well, I don't blame her," Your mother shrugs. "Girl knows her stuff. Gets that from Nick."

"You still miss him," You stated, observing her.

"Of course, I do," She smiled softly. "Your father's been great, but he's not him."

"Yeah," You nodded. "You know you could catch an airplane to him. London's not that far away."

"Oh, he's so busy and-"

"Mom, seriously, go see him," You looked at her.

"You have a point," She conceded. "But what about you and Isabella? Plus, I hate long flights. "

"We'll be fine, " You assure her. "Besides, I think Dad would love an overseas booty call from his wife."

"Y/N!"

"What? It's true!"

Your mother shakes her head, a smile playing on her lips.

"You are just as bad as your father."

"You still love him, right?" You asked, wanting to know if it was just nostalgia or actual love. Your parents had a complicated relationship. No there was never any grounds for divorce. It was always this thing where they were solely dedicated to each other and then somehow business got in the way. She's a dance instructor and owner of one of the best dance schools in the Los Angeles area rivaling Debbie Allen's Dance Academy.

"Of course, I do," Your mother said, her face lighting up at the mere mention of your dad. "We are just so busy. It was easy to put our marriage aside."

"At least you have a marriage to put to the side," You shrugged, leaning against the railing.

"Is this about that Natasha girl?"

"What how do you know about her?" You asked incredulously.

"Isabella told me this morning at breakfast," She shrugged.

"How long was I asleep?" You frown.

"Long enough for me and my granddaughter to have a nice, long chat."

"About?" You asked.

"Everything," She said. "Including your dating life. She's right you know."

"How?" You asked, turning to her.

"You deserve someone, Y/N," She said, reaching out and holding your hand.

"I have Isabella," You remind her.

"I'm not saying you don't," She replied. "But there are things a partner does that a 9-year-old can't give you."

"Oh, gross, mom," You pulled a face.

"Not sex, Y/N," She smacked your arm. "Affection. Companionship. Someone to share the good and the bad with."

"I had that with Sam and look where that got me?" You subtly pointed to Isabella.

"You were younger with Sam," She raises a brow. "Both of you were just teens."

"Yeah and I had to give everything up for my daughter," You sighed.

"But look at her," Your mother squeezed your hand. "She's amazing."

"She is," You said, looking at her. "This thing with Natasha isn't even a thing. We kissed one time and that was it. We've barely known each other for a month. We've talked even less."

"Well, it seems like Isabella wants to change that."

"She wants to change a lot of things," You chuckle. "Mom, when I'm ready to get back in the saddle you will be the first to know. Right now I'm just enjoying my freedom. I only got divorced four years ago."

"I understand," Your mother nodded.

"Good," You said.

"Mama! Did you see my new trick?!" Isabella's voice rang throughout the skating rink as she skated towards you. She bumped into the railing with a thud before looking up at you.

"I sure did, Bella!" You cheered, helping her off the floor. "You and Lenny have been practicing."

"Well, she's better than me, but I'll get there." She said.

"You'll get there," You assured her.

"Do you think the gift I got Lenny is cool?" Isabella asked suddenly.

"Well, I hope so, you were the one that picked it out," You said, ruffling her hair.

"Okay, if you're sure," Isabella nodded. "Can I eat ice cream at this party?"

"Wait a minute," You tried to hide your grin. "I thought you were vegan. What happened to save the animals?" Isabella had been vegan for all of a month before today. What you had to give it to her was impressive.

"Saving the animals is still my passion," Isabella agreed. "But I have come to terms with the fact that I am a growing girl."

"Are you sure that's it?" You raised a brow.

"Okay, okay," Isabella rolled her eyes. "It's because Lenny is eating ice cream and she said it's really good and I want to try it."

"I thought so," You smirked.

"Will you please let me, Mama, please?" She gave you her signature pout.

"We'll see," You said.

"Yes!"

"If Lenny can have some then so can you," You compromised.

"Denying the girl sugar?" Your mother chimed in. "I knew raising you in LA was a bad idea."

"I've never denied her sugar," You shook your head. "I did fine being raised in LA. Wrong kid remember." You said referring to your brother and sister.

"I suppose you did," She said.

"Isabella, let's go find Lenny and give her the gift."

"Okay!" She said, taking your hand and dragging you off.

The party was still in full swing by the time you had tapped out. You opted to allow Isabella to continue on with the festivities while you sat alone in a booth. You hadn't truly checked your phone all day so you thought this was an appropriate time. Opening Instagram, you can briefly see the onslaught of new comments and followers on your dashboard. You decided to click on the post and instantly groaned. There on TMZ's feed was you, sitting dangerously close to Natasha in Heatwave last night as she whispered into your ear. Then another of you leaving the club. You had thought taking the back exit was a smart move.

The caption read: Lead Singer of Punk Rock band bags Hollywood Royalty. New relationship brewing? Check out these hot pictures as the couple cozies up to each other at Heatwave LA.

You rolled your eyes and clicked the home button, seeing that you had a few missed calls and a text from Monica.

Monica: Hey, babe. Are you alive?

You: Yes, just exhausted. 

Monica: Good. I have an update on your situation.

You: Situation? What's up?

Monica: Well, the photos from last night are out.

You: I can see that.

Monica: And to my surprise, I didn't get a phone call or message from you with the details. Am I not your best friend?

You sighed at Monica's dramatics before pressing the call button under her name. The Facetime ringing doesn't last for a second before she's picked up the phone.

"You're an asshole," Is the first thing she says.

"Good to see you too," You rolled your eyes. "Is it really that serious?"

"Yes!" She said. "This is a big deal."

"What do you mean?" You frowned.

"Well, first, it's Natasha fucking Romanoff."

"Yeah and?"

"She's a rockstar."

"I've gathered that," You deadpanned.

"Okay, I mean, have you seen her social media? It's insane. She has like 30 million followers and they're all thirst traps."

"What?"

"I'm just saying," Monica threw her hands up in defense.

You shuffle between screens with a swipe of your thumb, tapping frantically into the search bar, until Natasha's profile comes into view. Her bio reads: 'Lover, not a fighter'.

Your heart skips a beat at the sight of her latest post. The picture is of her lying in bed, the sheets barely covering her bare breasts with a black songbook next to her. Okay, it's a thirst trap but a tasteful one. You continue down her feed to investigate. Most of her photos are similar. Some include her bandmates, and others include her posing with fans. She does seem to be very active.

"So you can see why I'm surprised you haven't mentioned anything," Monica continues.

"Nope," You reply. "She seems fine. Those pictures will blow over and people will find something else to talk about."

"I'm not done, Y/N."

"Oh, shit," You cringed. "There's more?"

"Yes," She nods. "Your name is trending on Twitter."

"My name hasn't trended on Twitter since..." You try to think.

"That time you were drunk and tweeted that Beyonce' was going to be your new girlfriend and you were going to steal her from Jay-Z."

"That was a dark time," You sighed. "Possible though. I have confidence in myself."

"Sure," Monica laughs. "Anyway, I have screenshots of a few things people are saying."

"Go ahead," You gesture with your hand. You cringe. You tap to follow Natasha's profile. Knowing this probably won't abate the rumors at all.

"Well, this one," Monica begins.

You’re not really listening as you get a notification that Natasha followed you back.

"Is interesting."

@Blackwidowfanpage: Who is this girl? She looks like a basic bitch. #Blackwidowdeservesbetter

"Ouch," You cringed.

"You see my point?" Monica says. "And another reads..."

@heatwaveslut1: Whoever this chick is, I hope she's prepared to take care of Widow's children. I'll help her out.

"Widow's children?" You questioned. "What's with the widow nickname?"

"Well, it's pretty clear she's a Spider fan," Monica snickered. "I'm guessing it's her little nickname."

"She doesn't seem like a spider kind of girl," You said.

"Besides the point," Monica huffed. "Her fangirlies are rabid. They probably eat people alive."

"I'm sure I can handle people on the internet," You roll your eyes. "It's what I do for a living. Nothing is going on between us. Yet or at all."

"Yet," Monica emphasized. "Look, you haven't been with anyone in so long. Take the chance."

"I don't know," You bite your lip. "Dating someone with status isn't my thing. Especially someone so new."

"Just keep your options open," She suggested.

"Okay, okay, I will."

"So, did you guys...ya know?"

"No, we didn't you know," You shook your head. "I'm not that easy."

"Right," Monica smirked. "And how did it feel?"

"Good," You sighed. "Great even. We only kissed."

"Kissed or made out?"

"What's the difference?"

"Oh, honey," Monica sighed. "There is a huge difference. How did it really feel?"

"Uh," You tried to think back to the moment. "Soft, warm. I liked it."

"I bet you did."

"Shut up," You laughed.

"Look, I have to go, but just know I'm rooting for you," She winked. "I almost want those sexy red locks for myself."

"Okay," You shook your head. "Go get them. I'll see you at work."

"Bye."

The call disconnects and you sigh, looking at your home screen once again. You decide it's now or never. You navigate to Natasha's name on the screen. You are instantly met with her face, and you can tell she's caught off guard.

"Hey," You said.

"Uh, hey, hi, hello," She replied.

"Are you busy?" You ask, not wanting to interrupt.

"Not at all," She shakes her head. "I just got home from rehearsals. We have a gig coming up soon in New York."

"Oh, exciting," You nodded. "How is the music writing going?"

"Well, I'm actually in the middle of something right now," She said.

"Oh, sorry, I'll leave you to"

"Wait," Natasha interrupted. "Would you mind talking to me while I write?"

"Yeah, I would like that," You nod. Natasha props up her phone against a pile of pillows, stretching to grab her guitar. It's then you see the casual, yet sexy outfit she changed into. You shouldn't be so turned on by something so simple.

"Are you ready?" She asks, bringing your attention back to the task at hand.

"Of course," You nodded, turning your phone onto its side. "Lay it on me."

Natasha strums her guitar for a moment, playing a few chords.

"That sounds beautiful," You say when she's done.

"Still needs some work," She grins. "So, are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?"

"Uh, the kiss?" You questioned, rubbing the back of your neck.

"Yup," Natasha nods, leaning forward to adjust her camera. Your eyes follow the strap or her tanktop as it falls off of her shoulder exposing more of her smooth skin. Natasha doesn’t bother adjusting it though you don’t know if it’s for her benefit or yours. 

"Well, what's there to talk about?"

"How it felt," She replied.

"Well, how did it feel for you?"

"Pretty great," She smiled. "But, I asked you first."

"Natasha," You said, rolling your eyes.

"Y/N," She mimics.

"Okay, okay, fine," You huffed. "I guess, I had fun. It was nice."

"Not just a kiss?"

"I wouldn't call it that."

"Okay, good," She smiled. "Because I wouldn't want you to think I was using you. That's not my intention at all."

"I'm glad to hear that," You said. "What are your intentions?"

"I'm not really sure," She replied.

"I don't blame you. Neither am I."

"That's why I like you, Y/N," Natasha's lips curved up in a smile. "You're honest and straightforward. Not lost in the superstardom of it all."

"Oh, no, I'm lost," You waved your hand around. "I just hide it well."

"You can't hide from me," She teased.

"Oh, yeah," You raised a brow. "I don't think I want to."

"I don't want you to," She admitted. "I know this isn't the most ideal way to start things but it's kind of exciting. Don't you think?"

"Very," You nod. "Though I think we had a pretty organic meeting. A nightmare sweet sixteen doesn't scream love story to you?"

"Oh, it does," She assured you. "But I'm not so sure I would've met you if that wasn't the case."

"We could have," You shrugged.

"I think I would've been too afraid to approach a stranger," She replied.

"You? Afraid? You don't seem to have a nervous bone in your body?"

"Everyone has something they're afraid of," She said.

"Like the ocean?"

"The ocean," She confirmed. "And flying."

"Flying?"

"It's a whole thing," She sighed. "So, are you going to let me see you again? Or are we keeping things virtual?"

"Uh, well, I would love to see you again," You said. "But I have Isabella this week. Between her extracurriculars and my work."

"I completely understand," Natasha assured you.

"I want to see you," You said definitively. "I can move a few things around."

"Well, don't put yourself out," Natasha shook her head. "You can take your time."

"How about next weekend?"

"Next weekend sounds perfect," Natasha smiled. "I have a gig Friday night but we can hang out after."

"Sounds great," You grinned.

"Perfect," Natasha replied. "Well, I've been sitting here for a while. My legs are killing me."

"Sorry, I've kept you," You shook your head.

"I'm not complaining," She replied.

"I'm sure," You laughed. You both hold the phone, simply sitting in silence, as you figure out what you want to say next. It's then you're reminded where you are when Isabella comes rolling over to you. She presses herself into the booth and forces herself into the camera.

"Who is that? Is it Dad?" She asks.

"Isabella!" You exclaimed. "This is not your dad."

"Oh, I see who it is now," Isabella grins cheekily. You notice from the corner of your eye the way Natasha fixes her top. "Hi, Natasha. I’m Isabella Marie, the first daughter."

"Hi," Natasha smiles.”Nice to meet you, Isabella.”

"How are you doing?" Isabella asked, making herself comfortable next to you.

"Doing well, how are you?"

"Good," She replied. "What are you guys talking about?" She snatches the phone from your hands to talk with the woman. Not that you had a chance to stop her. You don't know how you feel introducing Isabella to her so soon. Especially when you haven't defined what this is.

"Uh," Natasha paused. "I was getting ready to ask your Mom on a date. A real one."

"A date," Isabella's face lit up.

"A real one," You added.

"You better," Isabella replied.

"Is that a yes?" Natasha asked.

"It's a yes," Isabella confirmed.

"I think I should be the one to say that right?" You argued. Though technically you both had already confirmed it before Isabella had even stepped over to you.

"You're right," Natasha chuckled.

"Anyways, Natasha, let's talk about the new album," Isabella interrupted.

"I didn't know you listened to Velvet Rebellion?" You look at her skeptically.

"Duh, they're so good. I love them," She replies.

"You do?" Natasha says.

"Yeah, of course. You're my favorite band. I listen to you all the time." She compliments. "My dad kind of likes you too. He thinks you're hot."

"Isabella!" You scold.

"He does," She insisted.

"Thanks," Natasha laughs. "Well, to answer your sort of question, the album is coming along. I'm hoping we'll be done in the next few months. We've been working day in and day out to get some things together."

"Do you guys play any other songs?"

"Yeah, we do. A few covers here and there. We're planning on having a cover song on the new album."

"I think you should do a Taylor Swift song," Isabella suggests.

"Taylor Swift, huh?"

"Yes, her songs are good."

"They are," Natasha agreed. "She has a couple of really great ones."

"You guys should cover 'All too well'."

"Why that song in particular?" Natasha asked.

"Because Mom loves that song," Isabella looked to you. "It's the saddest song she listens to on repeat."

"Oh, does she?"

"It's on my playlist but I wouldn't say it's in my top ten." You answer.

"You totally listen to it all the time," Isabella rolls her eyes. "Anytime she gets sad."

"Well, i hope she doesn't get sad often,"

"I'm not sad," You say.

"She doesn't like to talk about her feelings. She's emotionally unavailable."

"Isabella," You scolded. "Natasha doesn't need to know all of this."

"I just think that if you guys are going to be the Hollywood IT couple you should know these things about each other," She replied.

"IT couple, huh," Natasha chuckled.

"Yes," Isabella nodded. "You guys would be perfect for each other. Mom has had the worst luck with men."

"I can't deny that," You cringe.

"You've had boyfriends?" Natasha asked.

"Just a couple," You shook your head.

"And they're the worst," Isabella continued. "One guy didn't even like kids. We kicked him to the curb so fast. Do you like kids, Natasha?"

"I do," Natasha nodded.

"Do you have any kids?"

"No, no kids," She answered.

"That's good," Isabella said. "Are you looking to have kids?"

"Isabella," You say. "Natasha isn't looking to have kids anytime soon."

"I can answer for myself," Natasha insisted. "No, I'm not."

"Okay, good, because I'm the only kid my mom needs," She replied.

"But one day I may want kids," Natasha answers softly.

"Oh, wow," Isabella is shocked. "I guess I'd be fine with a little sister. Then we could be like Noah and Miley Cyrus. Plus, I think Mama would look cute pregnant."

"Why are you so sure I would be the one to get pregnant?" You ask.

"Because you'd be the most fit for the job," Isabella answered. "Mommy, are you and Natasha dating?"

"We're..."

"We're going to be dating," Natasha interrupts.

"If I'm going to be tag-teamed by the both of you..." You shake your head. You tap Isabella's arm with a warning and take the phone back. "I'm sure Natasha has things to do."

"I'm in no rush," Natasha assures you.

"You're too sweet," You grin. "I'm not going to keep you from your things."

"Okay," Natasha relents. "Bye, Isabella. It was nice talking to you."

"Bye," Isabella waves to the camera. "Make sure you tell Bucky that I really like his tattoos. Also his new haircut is going to be great for the new album cover."

"I'll pass on the message," Natasha assured her.

"I'll see you later," You say, bringing the phone closer. "And thanks for the chat."

"Anytime, doll," She smiled. "Bye."

The video feed cuts out and you sigh, dropping your head to the table.

"What just happened?" You ask.

"You talked to her," Isabella replies.

"And then we were ambushed by a nine-year-old," You said.

"I think I did a great job," Isabella praised. "We know what her intentions are and we know that she likes kids."

"I mean, I guess that's true," You said. "Though I already knew both of those things."

"Did you? Really?"

"I can speak for myself, Isabella."

"I guess," Isabella shrugged.

"Now, come on, let's say bye to Lenny and find Nana. I still have to make dinner for you."

"Alright," Isabella sighed. "Can I stay up late?"

"Not tonight," You replied.

"Oh, come on, Mom," Isabella begged.

"Nope," You said.

When Isabella is in bed and you're tucked into your covers, you scroll through your Instagram feed. Natasha's videos and tagged photos have popped up. Your curiosity continues to get the best of you and instead of going to sleep you decide to be a cyber stalker. In a good way though. You find a picture that you find particularly endearing. It's a difference in the thirst traps. She's sitting with Wanda, on a picnic blanket, in a park. The picture is black and white but you could still somehow see the shade of her red hair.

TheRealRomanoff: Picnic dates are my favorite. 25,000 Likes. 500 comments.

You decide to check the comments. Her fans are loyal.

_@TheRealRomanoff: What's your favorite thing to do on a picnic date?

_@jenx007: Are you and Wanda dating right now?

@widowbaby97: You look beautiful today Nat.

_@BlackWidow: You have a lovely smile, Romanoff!

@blackwidow666: I'd love to go on a picnic date with you.

You read through a few more before opening the text box to add your own. You comment "Cute." before pressing send.

Almost instantly, you receive a message from Natasha.

TheRealRomanoff: Cute? That's all you got for me?

@OFFICIALY/N:  Well, it is cute. 

TheRealRomanoff: Interesting.

@OfficialY/N: Interesting good or bad?

@TheRealRomanoff: Good, good. Perfectly good. For the record, you're cute too.

You toss your phone to the side. It's been a while since you've had this many butterflies. You want this to be something. 

---> next part

[dronebiscuitbat]

Give me a Reason: Chapter 19 - "Best Freind"

N: U sure ur okay?

Uzi sighed as she crashed into her mattress, body feeling sore and head full of cotton balls. Tessa had just pulled out of the driveway and N was already texting her.

She wasn't sure when they'd actually become friends, maybe somewhere between ghost hunting and getting kicked in the gut she'd somehow made that connection. But she was absolutely not used to someone being this worried.

He'd incessantly asked what had happened for her to get so injured. And she'd incessantly deflected, either saying that it was nothing serious- which was bullshit, it hurt like hell. Or, at the cost of her ego- she lied and said it was an accident.

She just wasn't sure how he'd react to the truth, he'd probably be even more worried then, knowing that someone did this to her on purpose.

Or… he'd laugh at her. Because she was weak, because she'd put herself in a vulnerable position and then couldn't take a little pain an-

N: You can talk to me.

N: No pressure.

N: Just worried about you :(

The new messages stopped that train of thought. No. He wouldn't laugh. Even her chronic cynicism couldn't convince her of that.

Finally, instead of staring at his messages, she responded.

Uzi: Promise you won't say anything? Or laugh.

N: Promise

She sighed, here goes nothing…

Uzi: I got kicked in the stomach, u know how I seemed upset that I knew someone in my math class? It was them.

The reply actually took a minute to come back.

And that was because N had all of air knocked out of him at that reply. She'd been hit? Purposefully? And hard enough to give her a serious injury? Why? She was so nice! And cool!

N: Who?

Uzi: Lizzy, she's a teachers aid now, but she was in my class last year.

Uzi: It's not the first time she's thrown a punch, just caught me off gaurd this time.

Once again, N was floored, a teachers aid!?

N: I'd never laugh at you. But you should report her, she shouldn't be working with students if she thinks that's okay.

Uzi huffed through her nose, a half-laugh that was drenched in a depressing kind of acceptance.

Uzi: It's not like they'd believe me. I'm not exactly a model student.

She sat her phone down and shucked off her jacket and beanie, hissing as her side throbbed dully. This had been such a day…

Her hand instinctually reached for her stash drawer before she even realized, and in another, she was looking at it's false bottom.

As tempting as it was- and it was very tempting. Drug mixing wasn't smart even if one of them was just an over-the-counter pain reliever, and adding a bad trip on an already shitty day didn't sound fun.

So instead she wrapped herself in the biggest, comfiest shirt she could find and grabbed her laptop, maybe she could distract herself with YouTube.

N: What do you mean by that?

Oh right, she'd never mentioned the fact she'd been held back to him, whoops.

Uzi: I was held back a year. I'm 19.

N: Oh wow! You're older then me!

N: Still it can't have been that bad. Failing a class isn't a reason to not belive you.

Uzi smirked, fingers clicking on the keys of her laptop as she tried to find something to watch- settling on an analysis video of one of the shows she was watching.

Uzi: I was high in class and a teacher called the campus police.

It took nearly twenty minutes for him to respond to that.

N:Sorry, got home and had to get up to my room.

N:You were WHAT?!

N: That's a crime!

Uzi: And so is trespassing on JCJenson private property to ghost hunt.

N blushed, now laying on his bed in a grey pajama shirt and pants with dogs printed on them, he held his phone close to his face as he grumbled, she had him there, but that hadn't really felt like a crime at the time…

N: I think you're a bad influence.

N: Also you're deflecting, drugs are bad! And unhealthy!

Uzi rolled her eyes at that, he wasn't the first person to tell her that. But you know what was worse? Dealing with herself unmedicated, without her stash, her head just got fuzzier and fuzzier, and before she knew it… she'd be having a full mental meltdown at the slightest provocation. Which she hated, she never felt like herself during those…

Uzi: Probably. But you see why they won't believe me over miss perfect.

N: Yeah okay, now I'm gonna be worried tho. I don't want you being hurt.

She smiled at that, this boy was so endlessly empathetic, and thankfully, her unloading some not-so-great facts about herself didn't seem to put him off either.

Uzi: Ew, don't worry over me. That's gay.

And yet she couldn't help but make a joke over it.

N: ???

N: how?

N: how does my worry make me gay?

Uzi: It's not manly.

Uzi: Empathy is a girly emotion.

She was snickering to herself, she didn't actually believe that of course, but she could almost see his reaction to it. That stupid, confused and amused smile that he wore when she made a particularly dumb joke.

N: Guess I'm gay then.

N: Cause I'm always going to worry. You're my freind.

N:Best Freind?

Her heart fluttered full of butterflies at that. Is that what he wanted? From her? She was so convinced he'd find someone else to hang out with but here he was, asking to continue this…

Whatever this was.

Uzi: Always knew I'd end up with a gay best freind.

Uzi: u can't borrow my makeup.

N: Awww, but it would look so good on me!

Uzi thought about that for a moment, imagining N with dark eyeshadow, lipstick, and black nails, and she about choked, she wasn't sure if it was funny or weirdly attractive.

Uzi: Dude that mental image.

Uzi: It's so cursed, I about choked.

N: Blursed

N: It's Blessed and Cursed

The conversation continued, the fuzz in her head slowly dissipating even without the assistance of her stash, and it continued late into the night… up until she heard Khan pull onto the driveway at 2am.

Uzi: Oh god, it's 2am. We need to sleep.

N: I didn't realize! We're gonna be zombies…

Uzi: More of a zombie u mean?

N: Yeh. U still in pain? Are u going to sleep ohay?

N: Okay* oof, sleepy fingers.

Even while about to pass out. He was still worried…

Uzi: I'm okay, pain isn't bad. U need sleep N

N: Ok, text you tmmrow, Uzi. Goodnight.

Uzi: Night N.

[genericpuff]

Hi! I came here from your "lore olympus biggest whiff" blog about the finale... I've never read LO but I was always interested in it. However, after reading a few paragraphs of that blog (I didn't read all of it because I didn't want to get too many spoilers), it doesn't seem worth it. Would you recommend it up to a certain chapter? If yes, until which chapter should I read?

Honestly, if you want to read LO, I absolutely highly recommend reading the whole thing, or at least trying to. Not just to give context to the things we're all talking about in these communities, but also because it's about to go behind the Daily Pass wall on August 29th and it'll become even more inconvenient to do so.

I'm personally still a huge sucker for the first season myself because it just has that magic that LO used to have that a lot of us fell in love with in the first place; it still has its flaws, it's definitely the worst of the "Persephone looks like a toddler" era, but the characters feel a lot more real and a lot of the best, most iconic panels from the series come from S1. The first half of S2 also isn't awful, though the art does start to get a bit rough around the edges. It wasn't until the last half of S2 that I personally started to go , "Wait, I don't think Rachel knows what she's doing." That said, I didn't become a full-blown critic of the series until the S2 finale, which is where I firmly believe the comic should have ended (that is, if Rachel had structured the story better to allow for the S2 finale to be the overall series finale).

But you should read as much of it as you can anyways. Even if you can't get through a certain part of the story and decide to DNF, that's fine, but I personally don't want to be the one deciding for folks what they should be reading or how much. I also definitely don't want people forming their opinion of a work like LO entirely through my criticisms of it - the best way for you to form your own opinion, regardless of whether or not it aligns with my own, is to simply read it yourself. I know where I started to lose interest in the series, but you might not feel the same way when you read it yourself. It's definitely happened in the past that people have gone to read LO to "see what all the fuss is about" only to wind up loving it haha and that's great, honestly, I don't want anyone to wind up missing out on something they might like just because of my own opinions about it :' )

Honestly it seems daunting but you can easily read all of LO between today and the 29th, a lot of the earlier S1 episodes are relatively short and the actual pacing of the comic itself throughout the second and third season makes for a very quick reading experience, text bubbles usually aren't too wordy so depending on how fast of a reader you are, you can usually blitz through each episode within 2-3 minutes (that said, I'm also a bit of a faster reader so your reading time may vary). Plus the episode count on the app is also thrown off by several episodes that are purely dedicated to Q&A's, hiatus notices, etc. So it's about a 12-18 hour reading experience give or take, which sounds like a lot, but if you're able to read several chunks of episodes at a time in bursts, it can be done by the time it goes behind DP on the 29th :' )

So yeah ! I do hope you read it for yourself if you're really curious, and if you do, feel free to come back again and tell me about your experience! Did you get through all of it or did you DNF? Did it put any of my own criticisms into better context for you or did you wind up enjoying the series regardless?

Best of luck!! <3

[accirax]

DRDT Chapter 2 Recap Analysis

Heyyyyy everybody :D

I'm sure that, by now, everyone has heard the exciting news: DRDT will be back on Friday, September 6, at 7 PM EST! That's so awesome!!! I can't wait to finally see the end of the Chapter, and hopefully for the DRDT community to come back in full force, even if only for a little while. I missed you all :)

So, to get back in the swing of Chapter 2 theorizing (and recap what's just happened for everyone including myself), I've decided to run a bit of analysis on the return announcement itself, specifically the recap that occurs at the end. I believe that anything an author says about their works can hold clues as to how they view their story. And, in this case, what does and doesn't make the recap and how certain events are phrased can give us some last-minute clues as to what we should be keeping our eyes on going into the second half of the Trial.

I'm going to try to keep this as facts-focused and non-partisan as possible, but in a "theory" like this, confirmation bias is basically impossible to fully ignore. It's inherent that I'll be more likely to pick up on "clues" that work with my beliefs than ones that work against it. So, please remember that I am not attacking anyone who believes any of the things that I "disprove" in this analysis, and I'm also not saying that you're already 100% wrong about them at this point in time. I'm literally going to "shoot down," so to speak, some of my own theories, but I'm not taking this analysis as reason enough to abandon them just yet. We can't know if anything is true or false until the Chapter is finished, so it would be silly to call something completely wrong when the Chapter hasn't even restarted yet.

With that out of the way, let's recap that recap, and drain every bit of information out of it that we possibly can!

I think that the most efficient way to see what is and isn't present is to list out the "scenes" that occur throughout Chapter 2, and see what DRDTdev had to say about each of them. With that in mind, our first "event" is...

Eden Makes Breakfast

Notably, all mention of Levi helping Eden make breakfast is omitted from this recap. This includes in the visuals of the clip played.

In some instances, I'm going to write how DRDTdev could have phrased things if he wanted to highlight certain elements in an indented paragraph, just to prove that it was possible to convey the information differently. Like this!

"Chapter 2 starts with Levi helping Eden make breakfast for everyone."

Distributing the Motive

This part seems pretty all-inclusive to what I remember happening in this scene. The only thing I particularly have to note is the finality of "Arturo received J's secret"-- which really makes it sound like that secret was assigned correctly-- but I don't think literally anyone was trying to claim that Arturo was lying about J having that secret.

Investigating the Second Floor

Obviously, DRDTdev didn't go into detail about any of these interactions-- no notes on Whit's theory that the killing game was catered to them, about Levi really wanting to make things up with Ace, or Nico's struggles with socialization. It means that those details are probably less important to the end of the Trial specifically, but I don't think that's much of a surprise.

Caulking the Bathroom

A lot of detail is omitted from what Teruko and MonoTV were actually talking about in the bathroom. Most notably, however, is that the Monocredits are not included in the recap. This may mean that Teruko's second Monocredit will not be redeemed this chapter, but at some later time.

A Chat With Charles

Once again, the use of Monocredits are ignored, as well as the fact that Charles gave Teruko the secret he received in case of emergencies. Therefore, it's possible that the letter (which should contain Eden's secret) won't come up again in the end of the Trial, and that this scene was more relevant to Charles' plot of opening up to Teruko than anything directly related to the secrets themselves.

"Afterwards, Teruko goes to talk with Charles, who hands her his motive secret in case of emergencies. Flustered by Charles' trust in her, Teruko uses her first Monocredit to have MonoTV make Charles go away."

Eden Retrieves Teruko

A couple of things here! Firstly, DRDTdev draws attention to the fact that Teruko was removed from the group for a day. I don't know if this could factor into murder plans at all, given that it's a whole three days before Arei turns up dead, but it could be relevant. Secondly, any mention of Eden's blackmail AND any mention of Eden's philosophy are omitted from the recap. Given that that's both one piece of information that makes Eden seem more guilty AND one piece that makes her seem more innocent, I imagine that was probably just to keep things neutral/brief. Unlike some of the other text boxes that I showed could have been written differently, that descriptor was already pretty long.

Commotion in the Cafeteria

No comment on who was the one tasked to help each of those pairs (Eden, Veronika, Teruko) or Charles and Whit choosing to sit out, but none of those additions seemed incredibly relevant to the overall plot.

David Suggests Secret Sharing

In this case, "secret" is put in quotations, which strongly suggests that having a family history of depression, whether true or not, is not what David's secret actually was. But, the board basically confirmed that already. Far more wildly, no mention is made of Charles learning of Elliot's existence at all. This is particularly crazy to me given that the last video on the DRDT channel prior to this was the Yoidoreshirazu MV. It definitely implies to me that Charles' secret will not be relevant in wrapping up Chapter 2.

Arei's Breakdown

The use of "rebuffs" as opposed to "bullies" or "demeans" is interesting to me, as it's a relatively chill word to describe what Arei did. We also lost Eden slipping up and telling Teruko that the secret she has belonged to someone with he/him pronouns, but that was likely excluded because we've (most likely) already solved that mystery.

Rose's Secret

No detail about Rose's backstory, but we don't have all day. Far more interesting to me is that DRDTdev draws attention to Nico asking Rose to teach them to paint in a sentence that could have easily been cut. My guess is to highlight the importance of this in relation to Ace's "murder."

Nico Threatens Ace

Nothing of note here; this seems pretty standard.

Nico's Secret

The phrasing "David has Nico reveal their secret" is really cool for how non-partisan it is. It doesn't say "David FORCES Nico" or "David MAKES Nico," but it also doesn't just say "Nico reveals their secret," either. It points out how David pushed things in this direction, but did so in a way where it was still technically up to Nico. Anyways, we also lost Hu telling us about the origin of her name. This is a bit strange, given that it's the main scene we have (in Chapter 2 at least) of Hu and David working together and being on good terms before David's reveal. Perhaps this implies that any relevance this scene has on the Trial has already passed.

Teruko Threatens J

Honestly, the weirdest part of this to me is that it was important enough to make the recap at all. But, it did have a CG and everything. Actually, I wonder if this could have been included to help us remember that Teruko is actively carrying a knife on her at all times.

Ace Nearly Dies

DRDTdev directly phrases this as "Nico attempting to murder Ace," which really sounds like a soft confirmation that Nico was the one who tried to kill Ace, and therefore they were not framed for this crime.

"Late at night, Teruko and Eden spot Nico running away from Ace's nearly dead body in the Gym."

We also lose a lot of detail when it comes to Teruko and Eden investigating the initial scene of the crime, Ace chasing down Nico to kill them on the spot, and Levi offering his aid before being rejected and growing angry. It could indicate that the details of what happened after Ace "died" won't be relevant to the end of the Chapter.

Hu Defends Nico

This scene, in which Ace tries to expose what Nico did and Hu argues that Ace must have the wrong idea, is entirely missing from the recap. I bring this up because, very notably, this is the scene where Arei is last seen, not speaking. Arei's weirdly quiet breakfast is not highlighted in the recap at all, which may mean that it won't be relevant to the Trial.

Teruko and Rose Check Out the Gym

We once again call particular attention to the fact that Rose can't do a pullup because the grippy tape went missing from the Gym at some point around the time of the murder, although no focus is put on the fact that the Gym was closed in between when Teruko and Eden were there and when Teruko returned with Rose. This may suggest that the lockdown logic of how the tape went missing may be relevant to the remainder of the chapter.

A Chat With Charles and Whit

Once again, absolutely no mention is made of Ellie or Charles' childhood amnesia, despite that being the main point of this conversation. Weird.

"Teruko stops by the Computer Lab and talks with Charles and Whit about Charles' memories of a forgotten older brother."

Horror Movies in the Gym

Beyond the lack of detail regarding Veronika's philosophy, I'm quite surprised that Teruko's plan to end the killing game wasn't at all mentioned in the recap. I guess that'll be saved for a further chapter!

Motive Reveal Time

I don't think there's anything particularly important going on here, besides possibly drawing attention back to David being the one to point out that Arei was missing. It's possible that could still be relevant if the specifics of the BDA come up in the Trial.

Discovering Arei's Body

A couple of points on word choice in this one-- first of all, the text says "find her body," which, according to what was said on the slide before this one ("points out that Arei is missing"), should imply that they found Arei's body. However, the way that this slide is phrased allows for the very sneaky "Everyone goes to search for [Arei]. Teruko, Eden, and Whit find [J's] body hanging in the playground." Therefore, in my opinion, this part of the recap doesn't disprove swap theory, at least.

Secondly, the word DRDTdev chose was "find," not "discover." And, in this game, the BDA rule is phrased as "The Body Discovery Announcement will play when three or more people who did not witness the murder discover the body." Thus, by not directly saying that Teruko, Eden, or Whit was discovering the body here, this part of the recap also doesn't disprove the idea that Eden or Whit (or Teruko) could have done something to falsify the BDA. In fact, the BDA itself isn't mentioned at all.

"Everyone goes to search for her. Teruko, Eden, and Whit discover her body hanging in the playground, and trigger the Body Discovery Announcement."

Investigation

Absolutely nothing from the investigation makes it into the recap, likely because the investigation is an entire episode long on its own, and DRDTdev was trying to keep it quick. Not to mention, pointing out particular pieces of evidence here would really highlight what's going to be important in the Trial to come, and DRDTdev may be lowkey trying to further nudge people towards rewatching the entire investigation for themselves anyways. I think that the reconstruction of the note is probably the thing that I'm most surprised to see missing from the recap? I'll also point out that the video clips chosen for the "Investigating the Second Floor" section include Teruko and MonoTV looking up at the Gym's ceiling fans, which could be a sneaky way of drawing further attention to that setup.

Assigning Secrets

We have to go a bit later into the recap to hear about the motive secrets, and what we get is, predictably, very vague. Saying, "currently, the state of the motive secrets is like this" puts the full burden of proof onto the students to assign them correctly, with DRDTdev giving no indication here as to which are correct. Even the most highly contested assignment-- that Xander has the "the killing game is all your fault" secret as opposed to Teruko-- is still treated like fact here. Again, not a surprise, but not much to be gained.

Possibility of Suicide

The specifics of the blackened being the "most mastermind-y" person involved in the case are not included in the recap. This could imply that this rule may not be important to the outcome of this Trial.

Eden and Arturo

"Eden had Arturo's secret" also feels like a soft confirmation that that is Arturo's secret, and we won't reveal later down the line that Arturo actually had a different secret. I feel like this segment is also phrased like fact, therefore implying that Eden wasn't lying about this confrontation happening. We also get no indication as to Eden's feelings on Arei's vow, or whether them becoming friends actually happened.

"In the Trial, Eden claimed to have Arturo's secret, and that he attacked her when she revealed it. When Arei came to save her, the two of them forged a friendship."

What Ace Overheard

While not as plainly put as "it is revealed that," the phrasing "Ace reveals that" seems to support that Ace was telling the truth about overhearing this conversation, although the date on which it happened isn't reaffirmed here. Similarly, "David's secret is revealed" strongly implies that David does have the manipulator secret.

"Ace then claimed to overhear Arei and David talking about [David's] secret, and declared that David's secret was being a manipulator."

The David Reveal

(I'm going to write these ones out instead of having a screenshot because I ran out of images :,( And I'm too lazy to compress them... )

"In response, David acts aggressively and admits to being Arei's killer. Everyone nearly votes for David, but Teruko and a few others believe that David is lying. Then, Charles interrupts and reveals that he has some yet-unknown information that changes the Trial..."

To be honest, I didn't realize that "a few others" were siding with Teruko. Like, Charles for sure, and possibly Ace, given he still thinks Nico did it...? That phrase could be a hint that we'll hear more about other students who don't think that David is the blackened quickly after the plot resumes. Maybe my prediction that we're about to head into a scrum debate for 7:30 AM vs 7:30 PM will turn out to be correct...!

And, that's pretty much all I had to say... 30 images later. Look, a lot of it is images, so there wasn't actually that much analysis involved! Besides, now is the third-best time to be hyped and rambling about DRDT Chapter 2-- the top two being while the chapter is airing and just after it's finished, obviously-- so I can say as much as I want! And so can you!

If there are any particular phrasings within the recap that struck you as interesting, feel free to talk about them in the comments or a reblog! I'd love to see what other people think about this, and add my two cents (if desired).

From what it seems, the DRDT community seems to be just as excited for the return of DRDT as I am, which makes me very happy. I hope you enjoyed reading this analysis, and once again, please remember that I'm not trying to shame anyone for believing in anything that may be "disproved" by what DRDTdev said, or to fully convince them out of it before the Chapter begins. If I were DRDTdev, I would be trying to phrase things in the most vague and misleading ways possible to throw off nosy people like myself. It's also definitely possible that I read into things too far in my excitement. That's what this practice round is for, before we dive back in to the real meat of the mystery on September 6th!

Oh my god... we're actually going to dive back in to the real meat of the mystery on September 6th...

See you then!!!

[uyuartik]

bad idea, right? (obi wan kenobi x f!reader) part iii

tags: angst, fluff, arguments, period typical misogyny (of course not from obi wan), just overall wealthy pricks being little shits, the trope of THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED, but not really, do you believe in second chances (i don't) (💀), little smut compared to the rest because originally there was no smut in this (but i HAD TO use that idea), REPOST because i fucked up in the first place

a/n: welcome back for the finale!

well, i can't think of anything to say except this has been a blast for me, and i'm so happy that there are those who enjoys this madness as much as i do. hope you like the ending too. thank you all!

likes and reblogs are very much appreciated, and i can’t wait to hear your opinions! i am also crossposting on ao3, feel free to interact there as well.

part one | part two | part three | ao3

enjoy!!!

word count: 8.3K

chapter three: fuck it it's fine!

You don’t board that ship. A slight sickness you excuse, then spend your days sulking at home, still covered by the expanse of your lies. It is not totally untrue, though. You did really wake up with a swollen throat, and that put the integrity of your health during the journey at risk, thus with great grief, canceled the plans. Nobody knew that you’d not even mention the symptom on any other day, just requesting some honey tea and hardly noticing it disappear in the morrow. And it exactly worked out as predicted, more so, without leaving its discomfort for remorse. But after that, the hours stretched out each day, like you were living in a different plane where you were not welcomed. Perhaps you actually weren’t, for if you followed your fate, you’d be eating different foods, and walking foreign corridors. In an attempt to run away from that feeling, you try to socialize just a little, attending even the most dull tea parties. Also, your preference of company has to be specialized now, and that proves difficult sometimes.

So, that’s exactly why you indeed sulk at home, even though all your efforts.

But not tonight. 

Then again, perhaps you should've.

His presence has nothing to do with it, to be perfectly clear. On the contrary, he makes it a little endurable. The forced small talk and empty eyes you once feared dearly are not the case, even after your last encounter. Of course, there's a little awkwardness, an uncertainty about where the line of intimacy now stands, shadows of anger and disappointment still darkening the atmosphere, but the overall sensation comes down to longing. You both lost a great friendship, cast it aside in a blink, but your souls don't accept this new arrangement that quickly, trying to fall into the familiar rhythm once more each time you feel your walls break. You don't allow it, neither does he. Yet, it is about the only thing that turns this night into a not complete waste of time. Even a pleasant one, you'd dare say. 

If it weren't for literally everything else except this.

The hushed little uninformed jokes start during the dinner. It is the lord of the house that says them, to his close circle, barely hanging onto etiquette he had glimpses of. As minutes tick and glasses of wine roll, that glimpse is gone, and even in your seat at the end of the table, you hear him clearly. The pressed lips and masked mimics pretending not to be aware of it soon become apparent on every face, excluding you and Lord Kenobi. You glower the first time another of the guests feels confident enough to make his dirty contribution to the subject. Typical, you try to stay calm, tapping your fingers on the table. The world is filled with the likes of him, and the last thing they deserve is your attention. The reflex doesn’t go unnoticed by him, and he sends a sympathetic smile, showing that you’re not alone and accepting this invitation was a most regretful choice. He uses a few retorts to close the deal, let the dinner continue in different matters- or in silence, that would be fantastic indeed, but his smart wit and slight intimidation work only for a couple of minutes. Now it’s your turn to reflect that sad smile, and you do.

The sadness doesn’t come from the circumstances around you all, though. Your heart feels heavy, for not trying better ways to handle that morning. That guilt will haunt you, drag you into the gloomy pit you’ve been in, and maybe, you should stay there for some time, a penance for your mistakes.  

After dinner, when the ladies and gentlemen huddle around different interests, you get a chance to cool off. The soft peals of laughter and giggles fill the room, a much more pleasant sound than the roar of men. You get to entertain others with your stories of other cities you’ve been to, and they tell their interesting incidents, and make fun of their husbands, people who deserve, as their commotion spills out of the walls. The topic of their conversation, marriage, diffuses out into your circle in such a way, that once again, you’re restraining yourself, trying to listen to the problems one of the ladies is complaining of, and not to hear the crude comments going on on the other side. You’re stopped from rushing out of your armchair simply out of respect you have for the woman speaking when you pick up your name passing in their remarks. Plus, Kenobi’s words, you don’t flatter me by offending the lady, reach every ear in the room, sharper than a knife. Your cheeks burn with anger, then with gratitude, and at last, out of embarrassment, because how are you going to explain he’s just doing an honorable thing, that it’s his character to defy ill minds when he sees one, and this has little to do with his “pursuit” of you? Your breaths are shallow and quick as you focus on the discourse, and dodge every attempt to pull the subject towards your relations.

Though, the snake doesn’t give up on eating, even his own tail, it seems.

In less than half an hour, a joke about abduction is whispered, and you surge from your armchair, the screeching sound echoing. You murmur what resembles to be an excuse (you’re still deciding whether they are worthy of one), and send one glaring gaze at the group, enough to make one flinch, and walk out.

Out of the entire house.

Lucky for you, this is a night in which you carpooled with another guest, meaning you only have your own feet to carry you away in this pouring rain.

But of course, that’s not enough to deter you.

You take big steps, enforced by your fury. Thus, the house leaves your sight in no time, but not their audacity, still ringing in your ears. Implications about your freedom. Complaints of wive-hood. Humor about how perfectly reasonable is to get rich, by kidnapping a young woman… (Honestly, after all that, you don’t have mercy for them of the panic they might experience when they realize their guest is not refreshing in another room, and have left the estate altogether. Alas, that guest is you.) You string curses at them, the only form of thinking you have in regard, and feel the bulk of emotions resonate with every stomp, even spilling out of your tear ducts. Your dampening body, and the length of the road don’t make it any easier, feeding your frustration. Your only anchor is your self worth, the reason you began this path in the first place, and you desperately hope it will turn the tide in a while.

Though now, the picture you paint with those foul words and wet clothes isn’t exactly the brightest.

It is still among these moods, that Obi Wan catches up to you. You’re not exactly surprised to see him, his carriage closing the twenty minute distance you put between yourself and that damned house with a speed that you think can’t be that good for the horses in the long run. They stop abruptly at your side, and you have all those insults readied if it turns out to be that fucked up man or polite declines if it is indeed Obi Wan. 

But, you can’t speak them. The world feels like it freezes, the raindrops slowing down, and carrying away your burdens as they fall to the soil. The small door opens, and Obi Wan rushes out of it, with an expression that is so honest and raw. His fright vanishes at the sight of you, that scared gaze dissolving, eyebrows relaxing… You can actually see his lips move, Thank God. He is totally undisturbed by the downpour, already making his strands stick to his forehead. His hands find yours, and pull you close, almost like an embrace. You look into his eyes, how focused they are on you, as if they could burn you from the inside with their intensity. You have an undeniable urge to kiss him right now, and that has nothing to do with lust, but your wish to undo the last couple of weeks, uphold that strong connection once the two you had. Of course, you don’t, you can’t, thus, you let him lead you inside, and continue towards whatever destination.

Funny, how you feel much calmer doing the thing you thought you wouldn’t. Moreso, you have no woes about it either.

The silence is deafening, but nobody dares to open their mouth, the greatness of the storm of emotions you both are having too heavy on your tongues. He puts his less soggy jacket around your shoulders, you welcome it with a nod. That’s the moment you realize the redness on his knuckles. It’s not hard to guess the scene, and that has your head turned to the floor, processing the entire night. It is also at this moment that you become aware of your fresh tears, still sliding over your cheeks. Even if he notices them, he doesn’t do a thing about it, an indifference you’re grateful for. He just looks out of the window, and contemplates, same as you.

===

The tub filled with hot water doesn’t make you any wetter, but it helps with the temperature. You’re sorry that you exhausted the owners of the inn you had to stay in, (for it was getting impossible to travel in that rain) with this request, but a voice tells you that Obi Wan wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re unbelievably silent as he sorts it all out, staying in your bubble, unintentionally playing the part of the damsel in distress. You listen to his list of requests, for the horses, for three rooms (the best reserved for the lady, he insists), a tub to be prepared for you, and some tea-

“No need.” Your voice is weak, but it is clear. He would’ve protested this answer, but it is the first time you’ve talked after leaving the house, how ironic, and the realization sets deep in both of you. After that, you feel the words pile up on your tongue, but in a blink, you find yourself in a room. Alone.

“So sorry, I thought they gave me this room.” He stands at the door, holding it half open, face turned in the opposite direction.

“Obi Wan.” His gaze hesitantly finds your way again. God, he’s about to kill you with that blues… “Can we talk for a second?”

You name yourself a hypocrite for asking that, in this state, but you can’t breathe with all that untold things if you spend another second without explaining yourself to him, and apologize for all the trouble you’ve caused. And, isn’t this already proof of the trust you have for him, how vulnerable you can be in his presence?

And, there’s nothing he’s not seen before, after all.

He gingerly closes the door, locking it in a swift motion, and makes his way to you. You pull yourself together, and reach for his hand for him to help you out.

“No, stay. Your fingers are still cold.”

You can’t hide the small smile forming on your face as you settle back, careful to keep most of your body underwater. He, ever noble, keeps his eyes straight on your face, which somehow doesn’t help. There’s something about his rolled-up sleeves, the matching three-piece suit down to two for the damp jacket sits behind the chair in your back against the fireplace. His hair is drying up in all defiant shapes, and you have to stop imagining that morning he woke up next to you.

“I just wanted to say thank you. For everything. I- I never intended to cause this big of a mess, and make someone clean up after me. Certainly, not you, of all people. You shouldn’t have tired yourself this much, and I’m sorry for it.”

“You can’t expect me to do nothing.” The sentence begs for a dear to be added in the end, and he has to fight his throat to silence himself. Instead, there’s a kind tug at the corners of his lips.

“You’re right.” You nod. “But the truth is, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I needed to get out, I just couldn’t sit there pretend I didn’t hear all those nasty comments.”

His fist clenches at the reminder, and you once again spot the bruises settling in on his knuckles, filling with the desire to mention them, but you inevitably decide not to. “That asshole-“

”He was obnoxious since the first hour, and loud, but that doesn't scare me, for thus he has proven himself to be just a foul mouthed man. But, that title started not to cover the extent of it- it was too much and I couldn’t take it anymore. You may say it was obvious from the start, but I tried my best to not evolve this into a thing I would regret afterward. And I succeeded.”

“So you don't even regret ever setting foot in that house?”

A tinge of disgust seizes your face, but only for a moment. Even with all those words echoing in your ear, you don't have hatred in your heart, or any remorse. You're not so quite sure about its reason, nor do you wish to be, avoiding all analysis. Like you don't know the basics already. But the sudden change in your expression tells everything. “I don’t think I can ever regret it. At least, not in its entirety.” You say, hugging your knees and lowering your head. Hot steam no longer hits your skin, you realize in your attempts of distraction.

There's a second of silence in the room, despite the thunderstorm raging outside. You are as cold as in the beginning because of it, and you almost contemplate how good of an idea this conversation was, especially under these circumstances.

“I’d say the same.” Obi Wan speaks, and that's when goosebumps rise on your skin. Your eyes meet his, then flutter away quickly, overwhelmed. Does he mean-

Why is him meaning that any different than yours, huh? Why is it any worse when he says it?

“You should get out of there.” He reaches for a towel, and you shyly stand up, turning your back and pressing your arms around yourself. Nothing he hasn't seen before, right? As the coarse fabric is draped around your shoulders, you can’t help but feel afire, the imprint of his hand around your shoulders for a second lingering way more than it should, creating a tingling sensation.

“Thank you.”

“Well, I must return to my room now.” He folds his hands together, like trying to preserve where they’ve touched, and his eyes still stay respectfully up, causing your heart to lose its rhythm. There has never been a scenario that involved nakedness without… sexual intentions, and clearly, it’s not even crossing your minds right now. Your awareness of it takes up all the space in your mind, tosses every other idea out, and leaves you at the mercy of your soul.

“Obi Wan.” Fuck, the way you call his name, it is bound to weaken him every time. “Can you-” Oh, haven't you demanded enough from him? “I- I would like it if you stayed.”

His mouth hangs open for a second, with a subtle sharp inhale. His fingers tighten around each other, then relax all together, hanging free by his side. “Of course.” For all the words that come to his lips, it’s a most simple answer.

Not that you have any complaints.

You’re filled with another kind of thrill, being this open with your wishes, but having no clue whether they’ll take the night, having no clue where you want the night to go, or how to act in this very moment, half covered.  You just know that you prefer him, being in the same chamber as you. You’d prefer to listen to his idle talk or slow breaths, than the silence of the room. You’d prefer him to snore in your bed than to picture him in his own, lying awake. (Because let’s face it, it’d take a while for him to surrender to sleep, if left to his own devices.)

He takes a step towards the armchair, unbuttoning his vest and you come back to your senses, stepping out of the tub in the opposite direction, towards the nightgown the innkeeper gracefully lent to you. It’s slightly large for your body, definitely not tailored for someone close to your size, but if Obi Wan ever heard you commenting on the fact, he’d wholeheartedly claim you still looked like an angel. Since you don’t, he doesn’t too, but it’s obvious in the way he takes in your form, a battle of excess fabric against your movements. He has to bury a groan when your sleeve falls down your shoulder, a simple accident. He knows that shouldn’t have been seen by him, or you didn’t do it on purpose, that tonight is not meant for those activities, and it shouldn’t get him so bothered up, but it fucking does. Does it also make him want to slap himself? Yes.

Walking near the fireplace, you wring the excess water from your hair and run your fingers through the strands before rubbing that towel aggressively, for the fact that it is already soggy enough, and is not gonna do much. You despise sleeping with wet hair, it is an invitation for you to get sick, not to mention that you’ll be sharing the bed, leaving frustrating streaks of wetness on the sheets for them.

“Hey, hey, let me help you.” Is he a little bit scared? The answer is another yes. But he’s not gonna stand there and watch you fight with your hair. He takes the fabric, locating the most usable spots, and slowly massages your strands with them. Objectively, it’s not a lot different in terms of overall results, but it does more than that anyway. Despite the forbidden intimacy, despite the question of “How is he so good at it?”, you’re lulled by the constant movements, the tension in your muscles easing off. He keeps you by the fire longer than you would’ve stayed, and that achievement belongs solely to him. Frankly, he too is not sure how long the two of you could stand like that, or put an end to it. All that matters is that your hair is pleasantly damp, less bothersome, and he did that.

To be honest, with each minute he is in your presence; the task of holding onto his manners, respecting his broken heart, and following your lead is getting harder to manage.

“Thank you.” You murmur, eyelids barely held open, and he feels like a juggler, suddenly losing his sense of balance, and dropping one of his props.

“You’re welcome.” Perhaps he was the one to thank, for the pleasure. That’s the second prop, falling down.

Still, it’s obvious how that sentence misses a darling thrown out after it.

You climb the bed, and he follows suit. You both favor the edges of the mattress, and there’s a ridiculous distance between both of your bodies, but you’re both too timid to use it, even at the risk of tumbling down.

Only after the urge to find a better position kicks in that you move, and end up just a little closer, face turned to his side.

He’s already turned to you, eyes closed but definitely not trying to sleep, or relax if nothing. He opens them of course, after you rustled the sheets that hard.

“What if I get sick tomorrow?” Admittedly, that’s a silly question, but the scenario occupies your mind. All the elemental factors are present, and you only have a formal dress on your back. Also, the fact that it would be all your fault, yet you are the one to complain? You hate yourself for saying it out loud.

“Then we would stay ‘til you got better.” His point-of-fact words, softened with his bedtime voice, must be annoying. Must be. It is not. It is the raw truth, straight from his core. You won’t disrespect it, (again). “I would take care of you.”

(Doesn’t he, always?)

 A shiver runs down your spine.

(He’d name this place heaven, if it allowed you two to stay together a little longer.)

“Obi Wan.” Whispering, trying your best to break that ugly silence, not to crush under the weight of his words, but more importantly to let him know your truths, the alignment of your soul. “I- I never told you how much I appreciated you. Now just today, but especially today.”

He’s trying so hard not to sound rude, or leave you unanswered, but none of them are good enough. Thankfully, you are not expecting one. Your fingers ghost over his knuckles, afraid to hurt him. he’s not even sure you’re doing that, ‘til you hunch over, and press a small kiss over them.

That’s all the acknowledgment he needs, ever. It wasn’t becoming of a gentleman, obviously, but the situation didn’t require gentleman-cy, too. He has no recollection of how his fist ended up in that man’s eye, except for the exact second it happened, feeling his shirt slide from his other hand as the impact sizzled through his bones, and sent the man to the floor. He found himself in the middle of saying God knows what- he still doesn’t have a single clue, and thinks about the possibility of how they’ll resonate, ‘til it reaches his ears once again.

Though, he has no fear regarding that, or the altercation before it. Nor regret.

“I am honored that our names are spoken together, a testament of our likeness.”

The third prop.

It falls, most obviously, but he doesn’t show it. Not under these circumstances. No matter how you try to avoid the subject of love, or a future, he’s burning for it, burning for you. In that moment, it is settled that it’ll always be that way, forever. You’re absolutely crushing his heart, and maybe even crush yours in the process (for which reasons, he’s never sure), regardless of your intentions pointing otherwise, because he knows you’re pushing through your struggles to speak up, select the appropriate expressions, to honor your past. He’s touched by your effort, as well as your words, oh, your words… This is the only compliment he’ll ever accept, and it’s not even meant to be a compliment. Your voice is already etched into his brain, and there will not go a single day he’s not reminiscing about it.

Thus, with such strong emotions, his every muscle twitched with the desire to pull you closer, wrap his arm around your waist, card his fingers through your cool hair as your lips meet. He wants to kiss you slowly, savor your taste and caress your tongue with his, for the sole purpose of being close to you. You, throwing one leg over him… You, falling asleep in his arms as he gets to bathe in your enchanting scent… The feeling of your warm breath against his neck as you take refuge in there… He’s surprised he doesn’t have to chain himself not to act on any of these images.

(Oh, it very much feels like he has done that anyway)

Yet, it is probably the worst night to do so. It has all been too much, and all this on top of that is a recipe for disaster. A disaster he’s been struck with nonetheless, though, perhaps he can spare you from.

When it comes to you, he has always put his heart before his mind, (but never disregarding the latter part. It is the essential element to keep both of you safe, to never compromise your social statuses, to create the optimum atmosphere for your relationship to flourish (by your own unusual standards)). For the first time, he’s not following that code. Even he can’t imagine the consequences if he doesn’t.

You’re glad that nothing has changed. No response from him, no action. His relaxed expression tells you enough; the calmness of his eyes, his slow breaths and the slight curve of his lips… To be honest, you’re relieved to see your words reach their destination but also set with the urge to prove them. To press down your mouth on his, from which you hope for an answer; to hold his hand without causing any discomfort, or simply hug him for a second, eliminating all space between your bodies like your souls.

Alas, the role of the hypocrite is a part you no longer wish to play, and you’re perfectly willing to hurt yourself by not succumbing to your wishes, and refrain him from further confusion.

“Good night, Obi Wan.” You say, fingers grazing over his for the last time, and curl yourself into a ball.

“Good night, my dearest.”

 ===

The morning is unlike the previous example.

You wake up to him getting up, so there’s no way for you to know if your bodies drifted closer during the night, but considering the position of your arm, extended way beyond the middle, it is quite possible to assume some physical contact was present.

Considering you two are not facing each other, thus acknowledgment of the situation is not a matter, your embarrassment is half of what it should be.

Though, your cheeks burn brighter each second you can’t peel your eyes off of him, filling up the rest of that cup. Watching him walk around, the movement of each chiseled muscle on his back as he puts his shirt and trousers on quickly highlights another impropriety. He is perfection, even in that drowsy state of the human condition, there’s harmony to his every motion, the slow steps he takes, the way the fabric glides against his skin, the subtle fine arrangements of his fingers to make sure it looks decent, even how he breathes causes him to blend into the room, but also bedazzle it in his grace, make him stand out like a crown jewel, a masterpiece of arts that name the place.

You can only stop your ogling once he leans in and stirs the flames, which were already going strong since they were last fed before you went to sleep- wait, that doesn’t seem possible, did he actually sever his sleep to tend to it?

Is there any other explanation you need?

Your heart may flutter out of your chest after this realization, so you skirt out of the blankets. Of course, the sound draws his attention, and you’re caught, forced to react.

Yet, the unstoppable smile forming on his lips inspires a similar response on yours so easily, so naturally that you don’t feel obligated at all. On the quite contrary, that simple mimic banishes any pretense, showering you with reassurance and bravery, the motivation to act on your own true terms, not society’s or the ones you pressured onto yourself.

“Good morning.” The simultaneous greeting pulls a giggle from both of you, and it is all so small, yet so much. You sway away from his direction, casually reaching for your clothes, hoping he doesn’t notice the tremor of your legs when you shed the nightwear and put the chemise on. Because you know, he’s watching you. Divine justice, perhaps.

“Be careful, Obi Wan, I might start to think you enjoy watching me get dressed too much.” The snarky comment, fighting its way out of your mouth further softens the atmosphere, and it is like the first days of spring after a harsh winter, soothing your souls with relief.

“Guilty as charged.”

You shake your head, consumed by his usual forward banter. A scene taken straight out of your past. You shimmy into your dress instead of coming up with a cleverer response.

“You don’t sound sick.” He says, indicating that he’s been paying attention. 

Biting your lip, you turn away. “Actually…”

“Is there something wrong?” He ends up right beside you in a blink, as if the world changed by your unfinished sentence. 

Your heart picks up a different rhythm, hands raised in position to tie your ribbon but frozen. “It’s nothing, my throat just feels-”

“Do you want me to call a doctor?”

That was the exact reason why you started with it’s nothing. Alas… “No, it’s probably just my overthinking and coming up with strange sensations.” And if not, it depends on how well you spend tonight, so there’s not much room for intervention. Definitely not in medical terms.

“Pity.” His comment makes you scoff. After that, you can’t reward him with your concerns, can you? It is funny, ugh.

“Let me help.” 

Your heart can’t get any rest as the tension simply changes garbs, his fingers trailing over yours and leading a 180° turn, leaving a blazing line along your skin, to tie the ends of your ribbon together. Your arms tentatively fall to your sides, not sure what to do with their freedom. His breaths lick your neck while he attentively, slowly smooths his creation, and you’d probably freak out if you weren’t so focused on the sheer range of his skills.

(Also the mystery of how he comes to acquire it, but it’s only the deep, dark parts of your mind speaking. Moreover, you do not pride yourself in a position to be jealous. You absolutely are, on that tiny level, and no, you’ll never admit it.)

Though, you’re not gonna comment on that, not when your heart threatens to fly out of its cage. The sacredness of the action brings back the echoes of your concerns, not a single one strong enough to overtake you, but the cacophony of them loud enough to occupy the entirety of your capacity.

All that talk of past times… Coupled with a little hesitancy, and how the tables turn…

“T- thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Like he just didn’t flip the dynamic, he carries on with his outfit, tying his cravat. His beautiful hands work expertly, effortlessly, and the result is perfect, even without a mirror, eyes on you the entire time.

“Is it looking fine?”

“Yes.” You meekly answer. It is decent, like he always is. Somehow witnessing that feels as sensual as the previous scene, pulling you further down the whirlpool.

Embarrassed enough already, you busy yourself with your hair, accepting the mess that it is, and decide on a simple bun, as much as possible. The practiced moves bring you some sense of calmness and control, even if the result isn’t perfect. The silence helps too, along with his occupancy of tidying up the room.

“Do you want to have some breakfast?” He asks. God, how does he still sound that cheery?

“No, thank you.” You don’t want to keep your father worrying any longer, and it’s not like you’re going to faint. The memory of your last food in the most unpleasant company is still strong enough to expel any thought of hunger.

That answer may be the clearest thought you’ve ever had this morning, yet it is the one that whispers doubt into his heart. You are silent, turned away from him, and far too engrossed in whatever unnecessary thing you’re doing. Because now, he fears that if the two of you leave this room, this building, all your lives in it will be a part of the history, never to be repeated or worse, mentioned again, lost in the torn pages. The joke about residing here for however long- seems awfully bitter, perfectly demonstrating he’d rather hold on to the possibility than put an end to this.

How could that be love?

Perhaps you were right, accusing him of madness.

That’s the only reason he walks out of the room to prepare the carriages, instead of cocooning the both of you in.

===

“Father!” You wrap your arms around him, who’s standing by the main entrance to your estate, waiting anxiously. He does the same, unaffected by the eyes that watch, the staff, and a mere acquaintance, Lord Kenobi.

Now Obi Wan knows who you got your bravery from.

He stands quietly, hands folded in front of him, not sure what to do but damn sure not to leave. He had plenty of time to think about his madness on the road, and decided it was not anything pathological- it was pure love and desperation for you. Isn’t that the nature of most of your meet-ups? Consoling each other in the positively dreadful situations, and utilizing everything to spend a second more together?

He hears you reassuring him of your well-being, and summarize the thing in pretty understated phrases. Even that makes him stutter over his words in a fit of rage. Obi Wan agrees. You distract him by speaking of the help you’ve gotten from a valiant friend, and that’s how he enters the conversation.

“Good morning, Sir.”

How he keeps it all cool, sharing and shaping his anger, silencing any doubt that may arise in him is a surprise, though he’s called a great negotiator for a reason, right? His work in various cases in court has earned him the title. He’s not overtly a fan of flaunting it. Though, it helps him a great deal in this instance.

At least, enough to have a pleasant exchange in these unpleasant circumstances, and secure permission to talk to you again.

Alone.

It is weird enough as it is already, you and him spending the night at some inn, him casually chatting with your father like his clothes haven’t benefitted from the merits of ironing, not to mention his hair being on the wild side after a slight treatment of rain, and now he is requesting your attention? Not only yours, but your father’s too in extent?

His plans have never been so crystal clear.

“No.” You declare your objection so clearly, in one word as the door closes behind him, giving you the privacy of the room. “No, no, no, no.”

“I haven’t even opened my mouth!” He objects, though it is more of a principal thing, than an actual defense. He knows you’ve worked it all out already. God, could he expect anything less from you? Your watery eyes and trembling hands break his heart into a million pieces, reactions so strong even before he has a chance to utter their cause. He caresses his beard, reevaluating if he should continue-

He can’t live with the consequences if he dares not. He can’t live with what-ifs, or not knowing the reason why you are so repulsed by the idea or would you still feel the same, if he told you about his love for you. Of course, that would require some magic, considering the magnitude and intricacy of it. How is he supposed to put the purest feelings he’s ever had to mere words, the origin of the butterflies caged up in his chest, the wires of his brain getting tangled up whenever you’re not around, and the constant intoxication from the strongest liquor he’s ever consumed? He’d rather die than sober up, and a part of him already recognizes that it’s not a possibility. It is his poison and antidote. There’s not a moment that passes without either of them.

And surely, he has no complaints about it. Never will. It is a brave choice, but what’s braver is this moment.

“No.” You repeat, hands clasped together to stop them from shaking. Your voice is low albeit steady, as much as it can be.

Because you do not lift your eyes to meet him. “You can’t propose to me, because I can’t refuse it. But I will. Then the whole country will wonder what is so wrong with you, and me, and they will talk about it all the time, for years to come. The whispers will be the first thing that you hear in every room you enter, and you’ll see the mischievous glint in the eyes of every person you meet, them scrutinizing whether those rumors are true. Our reputations will be tarnished forever, and we will hate each other for it.” And you can’t stand that.

You don’t sound like this is the first time you’re putting these words together. In all your distressed state, you sound awfully logical in your own way, so focused on one improbable, insane possibility (damn those reputations, he can never hate you), but devising every little detail.

“Why?” He basically hollers, running a hand through his hair. Why does that potential is the one you envision? “Why can’t you marry me?”

One can only dream that someone outside isn’t listening.

“Because- I don’t know!” You take a desperate step closer, showing him your honesty. You truly can’t quite name your aversions, and isn’t that already enough of a reason to stay away, spare the person you’re facing?  “I don’t know how to be a wife! And I am scared. All my life I alienated myself from the idea of a marriage, I methodically dismissed every chance claiming it wasn’t the time, all the way ‘til I would say it was too late. I was content with that idea. Because I love- loved my life the way it is; I get more than I need from my father, and that is to remain unchanged when my brother takes over, and I am free as a bird, unbound by society’s expectations, traveling wherever, wherever and trying new things. I was, I am so happy about it that anything that may alter it I shun from immediately. And now I find myself in a place I never imagined, and I am scared. I don’t know what happens now. I don’t know what to expect. I don’t know what that future looks like for us.”

He moves towards you, his head tilted sideways in understanding, arms reaching for yours. Finally, finally hearing your justifications, the basis of your attitude, fills him with pride and compassion, and most importantly, gives him an opportunity to help you solve those problems, together. But, you hush him, squeezing his wrists in gentle guidance, with tears streaking across your cheeks. “I just know that I love you. I love you so much that my heart will always feel like a weight in my chest when I’m not with you, like a ship sinking, but never reaching the bottom. And I will continue to love you even if you stop loving me back, but I would rather lose you on my terms than by the burdens a marriage brings.”  

“Why do you so believe that a mere contract would change my feelings? Do you think my affections for you are that fragile?”

You frantically shake your head, causing the drops to fall faster. “No, I’m not saying that-“

“Then what?” He snaps, though not because he’s angry. He wants to learn every single reason that’s keeping you away.

“You don’t know what that will do to us.”

“No, I don’t! And I don’t care! It will never change my feelings.” This, he can shout freely. This is the simplest truth for all his remaining days on this earth.

You don’t know that, you want to object. “Obi Wan…” Is the response that comes out of your mouth. “I am not a good bride.”

“No.”There’s acceptance in his tone, a punch to your guts. “You’re the love of life, my companion, my everything.” When he pulls you even closer, and cups your cheeks, you let him. “Haven’t we been through all the struggles a couple could share already? Haven’t I seen all of you, and let you see all of me? Haven’t you claimed my entire soul, and occupied my every single thought? You made me break my rules, and painted a picture I never thought was suited for me- and I came to like that picture very much. In fact, it’s all I ever want my future to look like, with you in it. You, exactly in the way you already are, with all your unsusceptibility to the norms and striking habits. I know that can be scary. I am afraid too. But, anything worth doing starts like this, I know it. And we’ll be the biggest idiots in the world if we let our fear rule us.”

You can’t help but laugh a little, the joyful sound making his breath hitch. It is reflected on his face too, and it is something you’ll hold on to, alongside the tears that begin to form on his eyes. Fortunately, they sit there, despite him kneeling in front of you, his fingers never leaving the bend of your arm, only to follow the route they create, and hold onto both of your hands. “Please, marry me.”

You’re convinced, but your tongue is still tied, so you nod. Your entire upper body shakes with the gesture in seconds, making you look like an overexcited child, on the verge of losing their balance with the restlessness of their legs. You barely feel him kissing your knuckles before he stands up and embraces you, stabilizing both of you in both physical and emotional terms. Let’s be real, if he kissed you instead as he desperately wished to, you’d fall on the floor (and continue there- ‘til somebody discovered the two of you in very indecent terms). His chuckles quickly become your favorite song, you feel blessed as they delight your ears, and make your chest vibrate like his. He revels in the newfound proximity, despite the fact that you’ve been much, much closer in the past. This is new. This is raw love, uncombined with other emotions, strengthened by the absolute truth that you two are meant for each other, and with the promise of you’ll do something about it. He holds you ‘til your sense of balance is restored, for he now has urgent matters he has to attend to. He’ll get to hold you forever soon, and that revelation doesn’t change the herculean feat of letting you go now. He can’t help but wipe the streaks of wetness on your face, though it forms again. He solely doesn’t repeat himself because of the widest grin on your lips. You press yourself to his palm, eyelids closing for a moment, then place a small peck on it.

 “I- I’m now gonna go and talk to your father, get the papers right- and find a-” oh, that’s not “a”, he is going to require many others even if he keeps everything minimal, “I’ll be back in three, fuck, four hours, okay?”

“What? No!” You exclaim, almost giving him a heart attack.

“What’s wrong?” His fingers tighten, a slight tremble taking over them. You have to smile to get him to relax once again, and raise your eyebrows wittily, as if he is a fool for not imagining it already, reminding him of your nature.

“I’m only doing this once. I want everything to be right.”

He squints his eyes, grasping your chin. There’s a few seconds of silence, the time it takes for his nerves to settle. When it does, you’re struck by the intensity of his blue irises, the condensed calm before the storm. “So you want to stay as my fiance ‘til the next season starts, in eight months, succumbing to waiting as we get no freedom to ourselves, always in the center stage, enjoying the last of our bachelor states, the lonely nights and beds bigger than you can ever occupy.”

His other hand, wandering across your waist tells you exactly what he implies. While you actually weren’t planning on such a thing, it causes a surge of rush to overtake you, burning you from the inside. Pursing your lips as you free your face from his grip, with a contradicting shaky breath, you say. “I was always fond of winter weddings…”

To this, he laughs, echoing in the room, and you join him.

One can only hope whoever outside listens to this too, this moment of pure joy preserved in one more mind.

 === 

 “I couldn’t be happier to be married to you.” Obi Wan whispers, but the sentence is loud and clear to you, etched into where he takes nest in the crook of your neck, hot breaths burning your skin.

“We’re still not- ngh“ Yes, this is supposed to be the rehearsal, the night before the main event. You two should be at the reception downstairs, among your many relatives and friends and other members of the society, all gathered for tomorrow morning, when these words of yours will be invalid.

Of course, you are further making a hypocrite of yourself by the way you hold onto him, legs wrapped around his waist, arms locked around his shoulders as he burrows his cock into you. It was impossible to wait any further, as you were separated by the whole ordeal of preparations and the watchful eyes. The moment you found a clearing, you two slipped away, cue to now, where your back on the wall as he supports you against it. You didn’t even get one meter away from the door, you could basically reach the knob with a simple extension of your elbow, but in the end, who cares? Who cares when he fills you so deliciously, scratching the itch that has been building for some time, peppering you with all the love in his heart?

Still, your sentence is cut abruptly as he drives his hips faster, rougher- very much an act of pedantry, advising not to get lost in the details. It works, the correction dies on your tongue, though a quite loud moan takes its place. His hand flies to cover your mouth, and your eyes pop open, meeting his. The pressure of his palm against your face almost forces another sound out of you. Fuck, you adore those blue storms, even when they are focused elsewhere, turned to the door as if it can see past behind it, scanning for intruders. You do actually whimper when the danger dissolves, the vibrations running among his bones, and he keeps up his pace, hitting that sweet spot over and over again.

However, it is getting harder in terms of balance as he now has one hand to stabilize you, and despite your best efforts, it is quite hard not to slide off of the smooth fabric of his clothes. Remorsefully, you push on his shoulders, and he understands, pulling his cock out of you and burying his mouth on your skin. He stifles a sob in there, the frustration getting the best of him.

“Oh, you definitely had too much wine.” Look at who’s talking, you with those wobbly legs and bitten lips…

“No, I just had too little of you.”

Your heart flaps its wings out of your chest, as it does after his every cheesy compliment. You still cannot figure out how he makes you blush harder with those words, even as he ravages you in the meantime.

You reach for a kiss, it is always a good idea. He hums contently at the touch, grateful at the most basic form of contact. Obi Wan rocks against you unintentionally, and that’s how the unsatiated desire wages war, with desperate groans and roaming hands.

Then, his fingers tighten around your waist, and you find yourself supported against the vanity with your open palms, depositing most of your weight there (thank God, because you couldn’t trust your feet much longer). He pulls your hips back to his. Your back arches in a way that is most complementary to his chest, and fuck, it is a vision.

It literally is.

Fluttering your eyes open for only a second (that was your intention at least), you’re struck down with the image of the two of you in the mirror, faces contorted in the prettiest way that is possible in this dirty position, heavy lids and open mouths, fingertips whitened by the strong grasp you have on each other, the matching colors of your outfits…

Yes, even with that detail, you’re still on his side, agreeing you’d be idiots if you weren’t doing this.

Deciding to take the sight from its direct source, you turn your head to the side a little, looking at the adonis of a man you’ll soon call your husband, with his neatly trimmed beard and prominent cheekbones and long eyelashes you are slightly jealous of and so much more…

He meets your gaze, breathless with similar thoughts, that little tug on the corner of his mouth telling you all you need to know, but then he nudges your face to its previous state by a small clasp of your chin, and you’re watching him through the reflection, leaning forward when he starts to fumble with your skirt once again.

The moan that leaves you is totally incapable of being unobscured as he enters you anew. The change in the angle along with the visual stimulation has you teetering on the edge quite easily, like him, but he denies it, maintaining slow movements and choking out any noise that dares to leave him.

Of course, all is impeded when the door is knocked-

“Occupied!”

“Occupied!”

Your voices are synchronized, high and tight. The clock stops for a moment for your bodies, as if the stationary status makes it any less scandalous, and both of you fixated on the doorknob.

It never turns. Never.

Still, the dilated pupils remain a little longer, joined over the mirror, with big puffs of breath and shaking hands.

“Do you think they-“ There’s not an exact word that you can find to explain what has just occurred, but the sentiment is clear.

“Probably.” And the answer too is just as clear.

Well, the only thing lost is the trivial achievement of never being discovered before the wedding.

A wedding which is hours away.

So, you push back, wiggling your hips. His unrestricted sound is all you need to regain your spirits back, and you do it once more. Just like that, the wheels are turning. 

“You realize there’s a bed behind us, right?” He asks as he slowly thrusts into you.

“Yes, but I like the view better here.”