#i finished the last of these a few days ago

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

House Calls.

Summary: Aaliyah has an elusive charm that can be alluring to some and frustrating to others. Professor Terry is compelled to have her. On one fateful evening at his college buddies bachelor party, he runs into Aaliyah. An interaction he hadn’t imagined would ever happen.

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ CONTENT, based off of Players Club, Nasty Talk, Professor!Student. ANGST.

Part three

1999:

Walking into a hair salon was an interesting experience. Pulling into an overly stuffed parking lot in futile anticipation of being in and out “in a decent time.” opening the salon door and walking into a room overflowing with peering eyes full of a mixture of both curiosity and judgment that covers you from your head to the bottom of your favorite shoes. Slinking down into chairs that go from stuffed and comfortable to hard as steel while waiting for the appointment that was due more than an hour ago. Out bursts of group laughter, “girllll, no she didn’t!” and “say what now?!” coupled with the familiar smell of hair sheen spray and neutralizing shampoo that seeps through the fog of sporadic steam that fills the air from the super-wattage, neck-burning hair dyers, steamers and marcel ‘top of your ear frying’ irons, reminds you that this is going to be long day.

Aaliyah Noelle Davenport sat in an unoccupied salon chair within a popular salon in Baton Rouge called Gina’s. Gina’s had been around for over ten years. The pages of her coloring book she was currently scribbling in with old crayons kept her busy so she wouldn’t go snooping around like last time. She burned her fingers touching a curling iron heater.

“He’s back home…coming to pick Aaliyah up in a few…”

Aaliyah’s mother, Rochelle, was currently doing a roller set on a client. She worked the rollers around thick strands of hair with her long, curved, golden nails. Rochelle was a hard working woman. She did hair and worked night shifts at a local motel to pay the bills. Anything to make up for Aaliyah’s father being in prison for six years.

She was the epitome of 90s fine: Rochelle embodied a beauty that was both timeless and undefinable, leaving a permanent imprint on anyone that crossed her path. Her unique blend of elegance, confidence, and charisma inspired and resonated with Aaliyah. That kind of fine isn’t just about looks — it’s about attitude, style, and an effortless grace.

“Make the money, don’t let it make you. Money can't make you anything…only your actions can make you something. Money can buy you things that make life easier but one thing it can’t buy is happiness…”

“Girl, stop acting like you ain’t happy he back home...”

One of her mother’s friends and fellow stylist, Donna, was flipping through one of many hair catalogs the shop owned.

“The less he know the better,” Rochelle added the final touches before she walked her client over to the hooded dryers, “It was one time, that’s it…”

“Rochelle, if you don’t calm your fucking nerves. He won’t ever find the fuck out if you don’t hush!”

“Okay, okay…shit–that’s him coming up right now. Aaliyah?”

“Mhm?” Aaliyah mumbled from her seat while coloring in a teddy bear.

“Your father is here…come on and get ya stuff. He’s gonna take you back to the house while I finish up. C’mon, little girl!”

Aaliyah frowned and pouted her lip while packing away her crayons and coloring book.

“Fix that face. You got homework to do…”

She climbed down from her seat and slipped her Barbie book bag over her shoulders. A candy painted Donk with shiny rims slowed to a stop outside of the salon and Aaliyah’s eyes lit up when she recognized her father’s low–cut ceasar with the deep waves. He shut his door and strolled over to the entrance of the salon with swagger.

Roland Davenport AKA Pressure. He was a smooth cat from Baton Rouge with a nefarious past and a deep love for his daughter. Aaliyah was his entire world.

“Is that my little girl! What’s up, Princess!”

He scooped up his six year old and spun her around. Aaliyah giggled joyfully while clinging onto her father’s crisp white tee. His skin was the deepest brown and blemish free. He flashed his pearly whites at her before giving her a kiss to the forehead. Roland put Aaliyah down and then he made his way over to Rochelle.

Aaliyah watched her parents hug each other affectionately. Their lips connected with a gluttonous passion. Roland’s hands roamed down to cuff Rochelle’s dump trunk and she squeezed his bulging biceps in return.

“Stop! Stop…I’m with a client…”

“How long ya gonna be, baby? I was thinking ‘bout taking my favorite girls out to eat.”

“Oh, yeah?” Rochelle grinned flirtatiously, “Where to?”

“It’s a surprise…”

Aaliyah’s parents talked for a few more minutes before her dad led her out of the salon hand in hand. She skipped along the way. Roland opened the back door and took her back pack so that she could buckle in.

“Daddy, I wanna sit up front.” Aaliyah protested with her sweet little voice, “Please?”

“Liyah. You can’t sit up here today. Maybe next time, okay?”

Aaliyah hung her head before fastening her seatbelt. Roland made his way to the drivers side and climbed in.

“How was school today?” Roland questioned, staring back at his daughter through the rear view mirror.

“Good.” Aaliyah flashed a grin with no two front teeth.

“That’s not what ya momma told me…”

Her smile disintegrated.

Aaliyah fiddled with her pleated, khaki uniform skirt. She avoided her father’s gaze, afraid he’d appear angry and she would be in big trouble.

“Look at me, Liyah…”

She did as she was told, staring up at her father.

“I’m not mad. You had every right to defend yourself. ‘Dem lil’ boys won’t mess with you again after what ya did…”

Aaliyah had been dealing with constant bullying from two little boys in her first grade class. They would pull her long plats, kick the back of her chair, call her names, and other cruel things that always resulted in her crying in the bathroom.

“Now if these lil’ niggas wanna have kids of their own someday, they better leave my daughter alone or I’m putting foot in ass…”

Roland made a silly face at Aaliyah and she couldn’t help but to smile and laugh.

“How ‘bout we make a pit stop to grab a snowball?”

“YAY!!!” Aaliyah cheered, her little arms up in the air like she’d just had a victory lap.

Roland cranked the radio, Sho Nuff by 8ball & MJG blasting through the speakers. Aaliyah could feel the seat beneath her vibrate. She watched her father rap the lyrics, a sudden gush of humid air flooding the car when he let the windows down. Roland extended his arm from the window to greet people he knew, the Chevrolet Impala Donk slow gliding through the hood.

They pulled up to a snowball stand that was situated next to a bowling alley and roller-skate rink. Rolland turned his music down before looking back at Aaliyah over the headrest of his seat.

“Which flavor?”

“Georgia Peach!”

“Aight, munchkin. I’ll be back…”

Roland climbed out of the car, shutting the door behind him. Aaliyah peered out of the open window, her eyes following her father’s retreating frame. What she hadn’t noticed, however, was the way an all black Escalade crept up, all four doors opening in unison.

Everything went in slow motion.

Repeated muzzle flashes sparked the air like it was the Fourth of July.

RAT–rat-rat-rat-rat!!!

Her scream pierced the air.

——

Those memories flooded Aaliyah’s mind that Wednesday morning. She’d woken up in good spirits, ready for her Ethics and Psychology class and a lunch date with a special someone. After showering, Aaliyah slipped on a pair of light grey leggings that molded into her hips, thighs, and booty. She paired it with a fitted, white T-shirt and low top Vans. Glasses on, messy hair pinned back with a claw clip, she threw on a denim jacket and collected her school bag near the front door.

Before she could even leave, a hard, booming knock on the storm door of her Shotgun House caused her forehead to wrinkle with surprise. She paused for a second before walking up to the door. Aaliyah brought one dark brown eye to the peephole.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Aaliyah flinched.

“Aaliyah! Open the door! I know you’re here!”

It was her junkie mother.

She didn’t look like herself.

Acne, dull skin, and self-inflicted wounds from picking at her face. Needle marks and collapsed veins from shooting up.

Rochelle was unrecognizable.

One look at her, and all the trauma from her youth flooded her mind. After her father was shot down, Rochelle went into a deep state of depression. She lost her job at the salon, and the pay checks from her motel job didn’t keep the bills paid. Rochelle had no choice but to seek help from a man. Any man that was willing. She sent Aaliyah away at the age of ten for a few years to live with her estranged grandmother, Ruby. Ruby was a strict, Christian woman with no tolerance for misbehavior or rebellion. She lived in a different Parrish in rural Louisiana, closer to Shelby Springs.

Aaliyah was made to do yard and farm work. She had Bible studies on weekends and couldn’t hang with many children because their parents weren’t ‘Godly Folk’. The only thing Aaliyah really enjoyed was horseback riding whenever her grandmother would visit a church friend. When Aaliyah was nearing fourteen, she started sneaking out to see an older boy. Word got around and Ruby lashed out on Aaliyah.

“I didn’t have sex with him! We were just kissing!”

Aaliyah wailed, hands raised to brace herself from her grandmother’s blows.

“You’re just like your mother! Can’t keep your legs closed! Don’t lie to me, Aaliyah! I know you slept with that boy!” Ruby shouted.

She couldn’t stay there any longer. Aaliyah called her mother that same night, begging her to come get her. Rochelle drove an hour out and when Ruby opened her door, Rochelle shoved past her mother.

“You put your hands on my child?! You evil bitch!”

Aaliyah watched from the top of the stairs with her packed bags. Rochelle and Ruby were in the middle of a screaming match.

“You asked for my help, remember?! She lives under my roof, she abides by my rules!” Ruby argued.

“But did I ask you to beat on my child?! Just the same ol’ shit with you! I can’t even rely on you to be there for my daughter—”

“OH! Now look who’s talking. You couldn’t even get your shit together after Roland died to be a mother. Which man is it now paying the bills, Rochelle?! Look at all this,” Ruby pointed to Rochelle’s jewelry and designer, “Don’t look like you struggling to me.”

Rochelle remained silent, scornful eyes glaring at Ruby.

“Aaliyah! Let’s go…”

She hadn’t seen her mother in almost four years. Rochelle looked…fancy.

“Sully is in the car…He drove me here…I missed you, Liyah…”

Ruby watched with folded arms. She locked eyes with Aaliyah, a look of guilt flashing across her face for just a second. They left without a backwards glance.

Aaliyah was very careful around Sully. He was a drug dealer, bringing home money and gifts to spoil Aaliyah. She became used to the revolving door of other criminals entering her home. She was just happy to with her mother again. Aaliyah focused on her studies and poured herself into cheerleading and hip hop majorette.

Eventually, things started to go downhill. Rochelle was introduced to harder drugs, Sully owed people money and he had gambling debts. Things in their home started to disappear, bills were piling up, and Sully turned violent. It took for Ruby and Aaliyah to fight back for Sully to finally leave. It opened the same wound of her father’s death, Rochelle unable to stay strong. Rochelle’s addiction became worse, so bad to the point that she would steal from her own daughter.

Aaliyah couldn’t handle it. As soon as she graduated high school, she got her own place and left her mother behind. It broke her heart, but in order for her to evolve, she needed to break free. Aaliyah hated working at Hooters, and when she turned twenty–six, she started stripping at Crazy Horse.

“Make the money, don’t let it make you…”

Aaliyah opened the front door, but the storm door remained locked. Aaliyah stared down at her mother. Rochelle looked desperate and more frail than the last time she showed up. She’d relapsed again.

“Hey, baby…”

Rochelle pressed her hands against the door.

“Can you help me? I need some cash—”

“I gave you five hundred dollars when I last saw you, momma. I see you back on that shit again…”

Rochelle hung her head in shame.

“I’m trying, Aaliyah. You don’t understand how hard it is.”

“You’ve tried for over twenty years now. I’m tired of helping you and all you do is use me. Weren’t you staying with Mama Ruby?”

She definitely wasn’t staying with Aaliyah.

“I can’t stay wit’ you?”

“Hell no.” Aaliyah quipped.

“I’m your fucking mother!”

“Did you forget what happened the last time you lived with me?! You stole shit from my house! I don’t trust you!”

Aaliyah didn’t need this. She had to go to school.

“Please…please, Li–Li. I’m hungry…I’m broke…pleaseeee…”

Aaliyah stared her mother down with a venomous glance. There will always be a soft spot for Rochelle, but the repeated hurt was exhausting. Seeing her mother like this broke her heart. She just couldn’t stop using.

“Okay…”

Aaliyah opened her storm door. Rochelle slipped inside quickly. Aaliyah kept a watchful eye on her mother while she admired Aaliyah’s cozy home.

“C’mon…”

They entered Aaliyah’s kitchen. Rochelle climbed onto a bar stool, peering around with a nervous look. Aaliyah opened her fridge, bringing out leftover catfish and grits she’d prepared last night for dinner.

“That piece right there…yeah…”

Aaliyah rolled her eyes.

She gave her mother the thickest piece of catfish and a good portion of cheesy grits. While the food heated, Aaliyah reclined her plush bottom against the counter. She stared her mother down, unable to shake the pain that fought to bubble to the surface.

“How’s school?” Rochelle questioned, unable to avoid picking at her skin.

Aaliyah tampered down her resentment and cleared her throat to speak.

“Good. I’ll be graduating in June.”

“That’s good, baby. Real good…June…How many tickets you gettin’?”

“Uhm,” Aaliyah checked on the catfish, “Not really sure yet.”

“Still dancing?”

Aaliyah rubbed her arms.

“No.”

The smell of the crispy fish wafted her mother’s nose. Aaliyah opened the oven to retrieve it. The grits on the stove top were nice and smooth now. After plating the food, Aaliyah wrapped it with aluminum foil and slid it across the kitchen island to her mother. She opened her pantry to grab a plastic fork and knife, securing it with some paper towels before holding it out towards her mother.

“I can’t sit here and eat?”

“You know you can’t…”

“Aaliyah—”

“Look, I have class. I’m gon’ miss it if you don’t take this shit and leave—”

“LOOK,” Rochelle stood, “I’m sorry you hate me so much. I’m sorry about all that shit, but I’m still your mother, Li–Li.”

“Oh? Last time I remember you being a mother was when I was six years old. Anything after that don’t count.” Aaliyah fired back.

Rochelle parted her cracked lips to speak, but her words stilled in her throat. Her tears flowed down her face and she wiped them away with the back of her dingy sleeve. Aaliyah stood before her with a rigid expression.

“Okay, I’ll leave…”

Rochelle grabbed her plate of food and Aaliyah stepped out of the way for her to walk in front of her. Tears prickled her eyes but she hastily pulled herself together. Aaliyah followed her mother towards the front door. She opened it, unable to reach her mother’s gaze.

“I love you, Li–Li…”

A solemn tear cascaded down Aaliyah’s face.

“…think you could look out for me?”

Aaliyah released a sigh before reaching into her bag. She plucked out whatever cash she had– one hundred and fifty dollars– handing it over to her mother.

Rochelle accepted it shamefully.

“Thank you, Li–Li. Take care of yourself…”

——

Professor Richmond carried his brown leather briefcase with him into the lecture hall. There were already students present the more he approached his desk in his brown dress shoes. His oceanic eyes swept the rows of students, his gaze zeroed into a vacant desk. Bringing his Apple Watch up, he was right on schedule. She would be arriving late today it seems.

Terry couldn’t go the remainder of his weekend into the early weekday without Aaliyah crossing his mind. She invaded and consumed him without her physical presence. He was two grand broker and overjoyed. He’d spend more on her in a millisecond. That shapely body is a walking sin. He found himself daydreaming of how it would feel to press his muscles into the softness of her curves. How would the curl of his biceps feel around her thighs? The ridges of his abdomen beneath her hands as she explored?

“I hope you all read up on Darwin and The Moral Sense. We’re jumping straight into discussion…”

Terry removed his navy blue suit jacket, then he rolled up the sleeves to his white, button down shirt that he wore tucked into matching navy blue slacks. He used a red Expo marker to write: Chapter Three of The Descent of Man. After capping the marker, he turned his attention to the class. With his pointer finger, he pushed his glasses back from the bridge of his nose.

“The keystone significance of morality in human distinctness is clearly asserted by Darwin in the first sentence…and the quote says….”

Terry snapped his fingers before pointing at a student within the second row with their hand raised. A white male with wooly, dark brown hair and a hooked nose.

“I fully subscribe to the judgment of those writers who maintain that of all the differences between man and the lower animals—”

“The moral sense of conscience is by far the most important, correct, James. But why is that?”

He cast his penetrating eyes across his students before flicking his gaze at the door. Another student bravely raised their hand and Terry motioned for them to speak. He continued to lecture shortly after that.

“We know from his notebooks that Darwin was reading the contemporary philosophical literature about moral behavior in 1837…”

As he continued, pacing in front of his desk, hands in the pockets of his slacks, the absence of Aaliyah weighed heavy on him. Minutes ticked away and soon enough, class was dismissed. Terry spoke with a student after class about the grade he’d given them for the midterm paper before packing away his things and leaving.

He made it back to his makeshift office space, shut the door and shuffled inside, careful not to knock his briefcase into stacks of decades old textbooks and files. With his thumb and pointer finger, he flicked on his table lamp, a yellow glow igniting the space. The swivel chair situated at his rectangular, wooden desk creaked slight as he settled down. Terry cracked his wrists, a habit of his when he felt too wound up.

iPhone in hand, he found Aaliyah’s contact.

“Here,” Terry handed Aaliyah his phone, “Put your number in.”

Aaliyah stared up at Terry through her curled lashes with a smile that enticed him into a further aroused state. She held out her small hand and made a come hither motion. Terry felt his phone slip from his fingertips and watched her with a sharp gaze and a slight smirk. She typed away, and he caught her eye before she saved it.

Terry texted her phone later that evening and Aaliyah replied with a kiss emoji.

Terry: Goodnight, Beautiful ❤️

Aaliyah: Nite Professor 😘

He texted her on Sunday, not saying much, just a simple greeting. He didn’t want to come off too strong, although he was fiendish for her attention.

Terry: Hi, Aaliyah. Hope you slept well ❤️ Any plans for today?

Aaliyah: Hi 😏 slept well thanks for asking. how was your sleep? & I’m currently out to brunch with friends.

Terry: You’re welcome. had a great rest. Brunch is fun. I’m sure you look great 😌

Aaliyah: I do 😉

Terry: SO BEAUTIFUL 😍

Aaliyah: Thank you ❤️ can’t wait to see you on Wednesday.

Terry: I’m looking forward to it ❤️

Terry sent Aaliyah a new text.

Terry: Hey, is everything okay?

It wasn’t like her to miss class. Terry unfastened the first few buttons of his shirt. He stood to stretch his sore legs from his workout earlier, easing his way over to the only window in his office. Terry looked out the window. The sky was tar-black and the large clouds seemed as if they were moving towards him. He heard a tapping on the window and then it became a pitter-patter. People ran for cover outside and umbrellas were opened as the clouds spat out their beads of water. Puddles began plinking as the rainfall became heavier. The roofs of the cars danced with spray and he could hear the murmuring of the rain through the window. It sounded like the buzzing of angry bees.

Buzz Buzz

Terry back tracked to his desk, reaching over and grabbing his phone.

Aaliyah: I’m sorry I missed class, Terry. Everything isn’t okay actually. I wasn’t feeling it. Can I call you?

Terry: Yes

He answered immediately.

Terry took a seat, “Hello?”

“Hi…”

Her voice sent chills down his spine.

Terry sensed her sadness.

“Want to talk about it?”

“…Can we still meet for lunch?”

“We can. It’s raining pretty bad out. Sure you’ll be okay driving?”

“I’ll be fine, I’m standing on my back porch right now…looks like it’s slowing down.”

“Okay. Uh…I was thinking Noir. It’s a nice jazz inspired restaurant and it’s a great vibe for cozy and intimate dining. Do you need me to pick you up?”

“No, that’s okay. I can meet you there. I know Noir.”

“Okay, drive safely, love.” Terry said.

“I will, you too. See you there.”

——

Noir didn’t have many patrons that afternoon, and Terry wasn’t complaining. He scooted himself into a booth, the dim light hanging above him so dull as if a shade had been cast upon it. His wet dress shoes squeaked slightly as he made himself comfortable. Terry ordered two filtered waters with lemon and hot water to soak the silverware. His legs swung back and forth beneath the booth table anxiously. Eyes that appeared turquoise glanced towards the entrance and he made out the silhouette of Aaliyah Davenport entering.

She must’ve gotten caught in the rain. She was dressed casually, a large Louis Vuitton tote bag over her right shoulder and a denim jacket flung over her left arm. She paused, eyes searching for Terry. He leaned further out of the booth and waved her down. Aaliyah fixed her gaze on him and a small smile graced her beautiful lips. Terry watched her saunter over, and the further she approached, the more her smile brightened.

Terry stood, fixing his pants since they had ridden up on his thighs and bulged around his crotch. Aaliyah slowed down to a stop before him, an awkward pause with nervous glances between them. Ultimately, Terry opened his arms and Aaliyah giggled before wrapping her arms around him. Terry caught a whiff of her hair; coconut and hibiscus. Mmm…he could feel the slight dampness of her curls through his dress shirt.

Her T-shirt beneath his fingertips was slightly wet from the rain droplets. Aaliyah broke away from him and gave him one last look before settling into the booth. Terry followed, situated across from her. He loved how natural and beautiful she looked. Her curls were slightly heat damaged at the ends, giving it personality. She wasn’t wearing her glasses today, Terry able to enjoy those pretty brown eyes again. Her hoop earrings swung as she swept hair from her eyes.

“I ordered us some water for now if that’s okay.” Terry mentioned.

“That’s ‘awrite with me, Professor.”

She has such a cute voice. Honeyed.

“I hope I didn’t miss anything crucial. I’m sorry.” Aaliyah apologized.

“Don’t be. We discussed chapter three…have you read it?”

“I have. No assignments?” Aaliyah replied.

“No—Aaliyah, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t care to talk about class. He wanted to know what was bothering her. She looked so saddened. It didn’t sit right with him.

“Uh…it’s a lot. I don’t wanna pour my shit out on you.”

“I’m willing to listen, if you’ll let me. No pressure…”

Aaliyah tilted her head and considered his words. Their water arrived and the waiter was ready to take their orders. Aaliyah hadn’t even looked over the menu.

“Give us another minute, please? Thanks…”

Aaliyah started flipping through the menu. The conical body of the saxophone in the background soothing.

Terry decided to order them an appetizer. Mini crab bites. He wasn’t too sure what to order for lunch.

“Do you like crab bites?” Terry asked.

“I do. That sounds good,” Aaliyah peered up at him with a timid smile, “I was thinking of getting a salmon ceasar salad.”

“Tasty,” Terry stroked his goatee, “I’ll probably do a shrimp Po’Boy.”

Their waiter circled back and Terry ordered everything. Alone again, they sipped their water and caught each other’s eye. Aaliyah pushed the wedge of lemon in her glass down further with her straw. She released a sigh before leaning against the table.

“My momma showed up today. Right when I was leaving for school.”

“Ya’ momma? I take it you’re not happy about that…”

Aaliyah’s eyes glistened. Terry wanted to reach out and stroke her soft cheek.

“My mom is a drug addict. Been an addict since I was sixteen.”

Terry allowed what she revealed to him to settle into his mind. He gave her a slow nod, and his eyes fixated on her deeper.

Aaliyah continued with a shaky voice, “After my father was killed, she became depressed and she blamed herself for the longest time. I was there when it happened…saw the whole thing,” Aaliyah rubbed her arms, “He hadn’t even been out of prison for a year and he was shot…”

Terry watched her straighten her back and sniffle, trying her best to calm herself down.

“My momma’s been in and out of rehab. I’ve help her, my grandmomma helped her…she stole from me, disappointed me every single time…” Aaliyah stared down at her hands, “And all she can think to do is show up on my doorstep with her hands out. That broke me.”

Terry twisted his full lips and his eyes fell to her hands. He watched the way her fingers fiddled. With an impulse so strong, he covered her hands with his much larger ones, stroking them with his thumbs. Aaliyah watched the way his hands worked to sooth her. Like he was massaging the stress out of her. Aaliyah exhaled, and then she locked eyes with Terry.

“I love her so much…”

“I know you do, I can see it…I can feel it.” Terry spoke softly.

He released her hands so she could thumb away a tear.

“I’m so sorry, Aaliyah. Sorry about your father. Sorry about your mom…”

“Thank you, Terry. I really appreciate it. I know this is supposed to be a nice lunch. I feel like I’m ruining it with my fuckin’ bullshit.”

“There’s nothing ruined, love. I’m happy you felt comfortable enough to open up to me about it. I just don’t like seeing you like this…your mom isn’t willing to get help?”

“That’s the thing,” Aaliyah took a sip of her water to help get rid of the lump in her throat, “She’s been in and out of rehab plenty of times. It’s this guy she keeps running back to. I don’t really remember his name…all I know is that he’s a dealer. She’s always had a thing for criminals.”

“Your grandmother, what’s up with that?—am I asking too many questions?”

“No, no,” Aaliyah shook her head, “My grandma is…her and my mom have always had a strained relationship. She’s attempted to help, but it never works out. There’s a lot of unresolved issues and my mom just can’t stick around long enough to deal wit’ it, ya know?”

“I get it. What was your father like?”

Aliyah frowned slightly, “He was so funny. Had so much swagger to ‘em. Loved cars. He got himself mixed up in some shit. He was doing a favor for a friend that turned out to be a robbery and it landed him in prison.”

She had this faraway look in her eyes, as if she were recalling the nostalgic feeling of being with her dad.

“…I saw him…die…and…” Aaliyah exhaled, “Took me a while to shake it…”

“Damn,” Terry hung his head, “Aaliyah, that’s heavy…”

Terry squeezed her hands and sought out her gaze. Aaliyah looked across at him and a single tear cascaded down her cheek. Terry released her hand and lifted from his seat, scooting in next to her. He snatched up a few napkins and dabbed her face gently.

“It’s okay…it’s okay, Aaliyah…so sorry…”

One hand rubbed her shoulder while she bawled up the used napkin in her hand. With one last sniffle, Aaliyah turned her brown eyes that reminded him of cognac through a glass and just then, she leaned in and those lips he’d desired to feel grazed his cheek with a feather–like touch before molding into his skin with a pressure so soothing his eyelash’s fluttered in satisfaction.

“Thanks for listening,” Aaliyah whispered in his ear.

Terry turned his head at an angle towards her. He gave her a searing, sideways glance.

“You’re welcome. Anytime…”

“Crab bites…”

Startled, Terry leaped up from his seat and returned to his side of the booth. Aaliyah thanked the waiter and they put in their orders. Terry and Aaliyah shared the appetizer. After chewing, Aaliyah licked her lips before speaking.

“Tell me a little more about Terry Richmond.”

Terry gave Aaliyah an attractive half–smirk. 

“Ask me and you shall receive.”

“Why teaching? Is that something you’ve always had a passion for?”

“That’s a really good question. Uh…yes. I was an instructor when I spent time in the Marines. I trained Marines for combat and firearms. Each day was new and exciting. I’ve always had this…desire to share knowledge, inspire others, and make a positive impact. Although my pops wanted me to continue into the Marines, I fell in love with Psychology. So…I got my PhD a year ago, and here I am.”

Aaliyah sat her face into her hands with her elbows propped up on the table, listening to him like he was retelling a fairytale story. Her eyes sparkled with joy at listening to him drone on about moving to North Carolina with his parents after Katrina, enlisted into the Marines, finished his undergrad, living there up until the age of twenty–seven before he moved back to Louisiana to attend LSU. Both of his parents are still together and living in North Carolina. Their food arrived and they tucked in, talking in between bites.

Terry was happy that Aaliyah is in better spirits. She smiled and giggled and it warmed his heart. She thanked him for cheering her up. Terry was honored. The topic veered to hobbies and interests. Aaliyah shared that she used to be a majorette dancer.

“Fishing? Living outdoors? Wow. I grew up doing farm work and riding horses but nothing that deep,” Aaliyah responded with a giggle.

“I can take you sometime…show you what it’s like.”

Terry cocked his head to the side and stared at Aaliyah. She held onto his gaze, the tip of her tongue peeking through her teeth. Terry wanted to wrap his full lips around her tongue and suck on it.

“So…is it a date then? Taking me fishing and camping, Professor?” Aaliyah teased.

“I’ll take you anywhere,” Terry slurped down some water.

“Anywhere?” Aaliyah dragged out with her cutesy voice and lips twinged with a sultry smile.

“Anywhere…anything for you.”

“I like the sound of that,” Aaliyah smiled, “You’ve earned the privilege to spoil me.”

They laughed in unison.

“How did I earn it, exactly?” Terry quirked a brow up and narrowed his eyes playfully.

“Giving me two thousand dollars cash was enough to let me know,” Aaliyah replied bluntly.

Terry chucked. He licked his lips, eyes scanning the space before he lowered his voice an octave, “You liked that, huh?”

“More than you’ll ever know…”

“Let me know, girl…”

Aaliyah tucked her chin and giggled.

“Let me know…” Terry persisted.

“I didn’t like it I love it. I’m a princess and I should be treated accordingly.”

Terry’s eyelids lowered slightly. He leaned in on his arms, eyes roaming her body before staring into her eyes again. He felt a sensation so deep within his ripped core. Something akin to butterflies. Aaliyah excited him. That mouth on her…he loved it.

“The minute I laid my eyes on you at that bachelor party…you were gettin’ all my money…”

“Good, that’s what I wanted,” Aaliyah nibbled on her straw with a teasing smile.

Terry licked his lips. He stared at her through his spectacles while his fingers drummed against the table slowly. Aaliyah sat her glass down and leaned back against the booth.

Staring.

They were practically eye–fucking each other.

Beneath that table, Aaliyah took it upon herself to run her pointed, left foot up Terry’s right leg. She did it achingly slow. It traveled up and up until she stopped with her foot propped up against his seat between his legs. Terry did one lazy sweep of his eyes over her foot and his teeth latched onto his bottom lip.

”Aaliyah…”

“Huh?”

Terry was going to lose it. Lose all his control. He was itching to walk her to the back of the restaurant, push her into a bathroom stall, and beat that fat pussy up with her chest against the door and his large hands keeping her pinned in place and stable on that dick.

“If I could tell you how beautiful you are…how gorgeous you are a million times I would. The moment I laid eyes on you at the beginning of the semester…I couldn’t ignore it. The feeling. I just knew that I had to have you…”

Aaliyah sat transfixed by his words. Lips slightly parted, eyes misty. He loved that look on her face. He wanted her to look at him like that in a kneeled position with his dick hanging in her face waiting to be tended to.

The thoughts in his mind…

“Wow,” Aaliyah chuckled breathlessly, “You want me that bad, huh? Wow…”

She acted as if a man never pined for her so deep like Terry. His unspoken energy even spoke volumes.

He. Needed. Aaliyah.

Professor or not.

“You don’t even know…”

“Mm,” Aaliyah shut her eyes and nibbled on her bottom lip. Her eyes opened slowly, “Terry…you gotta stop.”

They chuckled, Aaliyah’s thighs clenching beneath the table and Terry’s thighs swinging back and forth.

“Why stop?” Terry whispered.

Aaliyah kisses her teeth, “‘Cause…”

Her cute voice was enough to make the tip of his dick respond. He could feel himself leaking.

Thank God the waiter returned with the check. Terry paid the tab, and Aaliyah looked at him, not quite ready to go. Terry didn’t want to, but he had an evening course starting within the next hour or so and he needed to head back to campus.

Fuck that class. Look what’s in front of of you, nigga…

“You ready?” Terry questioned reluctantly.

——

They hadn’t even made it out of Noir for two seconds before it started again. They quickened their pace as the clouds began to gather in the sky. Up to now, the sky had been postcard-perfect, but it was changing. The beautiful cocktail-blue shade was beginning to darken into gravel-grey. Large pillows of clouds were forming, blotting out the old-gold colour of the sun.

Aaliyah got the first splatter of rain when she was halfway across the parking lot. She took shelter under her Jean jacket, hoping that she could see out past the shower. Terry’s brawny bicep pulled her closer while he covered himself with his own jacket. Droplets of moisture began to drip from the leaves. They were sprinkling onto the concrete like a gardener’s hose. Then the rainfall became more intense. A wall of rain moved over the oak trees and the drops were drumming against the tops of cars. So much rain was falling that the sound blurred into one long, whirring noise. It reminded her of the rotor blades on a helicopter.

Terry’s truck was closer. He rushed to fling the door opened, helping Aaliyah inside before sprinting to his side and climbing in. He slammed the door shut before tossing his drenched suit jacket onto the back seat. The humidity caused the car windows to fog as it poured. Eventually, the noise lessened and the drops faded into a musical chime. They sought out each other’s gaze and laughed.

Aaliyah threw her head back and sighed with contempt. This was a great lunch date. She was so happy she came. After bawling her eyes out about her mother, she needed some fun. Terry was more than just his looks. He was so refreshing. Such a gentleman. Hard working. So deeply fascinated with her. And it was more than just a lustful gaze. A gaze Aaliyah was more than used to. No. This man wanted her.

Aaliyah turned her cheek against the headrest to watch him. Terry felt her eyes and he gave her his undivided attention.

“I want to see you again, as soon as possible, Aaliyah.”

The urgency in his voice let her know he was a man about action.

“I’ll let you know what my days are looking like…okay?”

Terry hummed. The sound vibrated her core. He was impatient.

“Why not check on that now? Friday for an hour and thirty minute class ain’t enough.”

The bite in his voice sounded so much different from his professional tone. Aaliyah was stunned.

“Okay,” She pulled out her phone from her bag, “I have plans Saturday with friends…”

“Friday night?”

“Nothing.” Aaliyah replied.

“Then how about Friday? I’ll take you to dinner.”

“I have to study, Terry.” Aaliyah said, a playful glint in her eyes.

Aaliyah clocked the way Terry’s chest rose and fell with each deep breath. She imagined what he looked like beneath his business attire. Her imagining could only conjure up enough for her to fantasize about. She needed to see the real thing. Up close. Touch on him and memorize the planes and valleys of muscle threatening to bring the freak out of her. He looked like he could bench press and squat three times her size and Aaliyah wanted to test that theory. In many positions.

“I’ll help you study.”

“Isn’t that cheating?!” Aaliyah replied.

“It’s called tutoring, baby girl.”

Baby girl? Oh fucking hell…

Aaliyah became acutely aware of her nipples hardening. So did Terry. His eyes were glued to her breasts sitting up and jutted out.

Terry reached down beside him and his seat reclined back. Aaliyah’s heart skipped a beat. He gave her a pointed look. Aliyah’s eyes fell to his inviting lap…and a rather mountainous bulge…

It was as if the blood coursing through his body carried downward and pooled into his…

The veins in his arms…she could see them clearer now. His large hands resting against his thighs…that man spread…she felt a buzzing in her ears. The silent dominance in his posture…

Aaliyah lifted from her seat in a frenzy, Terry scooped her up with one powerful arm around her waistline and Aaliyah climbed over his lap. She sat herself snugly over his thick bulge that protruded from the crotch of his navy blue slacks like an eruption was waiting to happen. Her fat pussy sat on that protrusion and her breath hitched.

“Professor…”

Terry’s large hands double–cuffed her thick ass and he forced his grip upward, arching her back. Those thick, long fingers sank into the plump flesh as he groped her. One hand above her, pressed against the roof of the car, Aaliyah allowed the feeling of him squeezing and jiggling her cakes to consume her.

His glasses had fogged up. Their mingled, uneven breaths along with the sound of the leather seats filled the space between them. Aaliyah felt his hands smooth around to the junction between her thighs and booty and he applied force, making her ass move on its own—left cheek, right cheek— peering down over her shoulder while she was pressed against him. Aaliyah had her feet folded over his knees.

“Ughhh….”

A deep grunt followed by his arms wrapping around her waist tight. Biceps cutting into her back. The new position had Aaliyah sitting over his print harder. They sat like that for a few minutes, Terry’s nose was pressed against her neck, inhaling cool air and exhaling heated air that caused goosebumps to spread.

His arms loosened and Aaliyah tilted her head down to meet his eyes. She removed Terry’s glasses, resting them inside of his cup holder. The interior of his car smelled like blackberry clove and leather. He smelled like sandalwood. Those eyes. She got lost in them before tearing her gaze away to stare at his lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Terry asked softly.

Aaliyah closed the space between them and one of Terry’s hands tangled into her wet coils while his other hand sat above her ass. They gave each other an open–mouthed kiss filled with a feverish need for each other. Wet smacking noises sent signals of arousal. Eyes closed, heads swiveling, equally tasty and soft lips molding into each other’s. Aaliyah allowed her hands to run beneath his dress shirt and white better, coming into contact with warm skin stretched over an impressive physique.

“Unh…”

She found herself moaning.

A single finger of Terry’s traced the waistline of her leggings. The sensation caused her body to shiver. Aaliyah sat up, leaning back against his steering wheel. Terry locked eyes with her while his fingers brushed from her waist down to her pussy. The heat radiating from there could have added to the fog on the windows .

“You deserve so much…you’re so fuckin’ sexy…”

Aaliyah adjusted herself to tilt her body against his so that Terry could put his hand down her leggings.

“Damn…it’s like that, baby?”

“Uh-huh…”

Terry’s hand cupped her fat pussy through her thong. Aaliyah clung to his shoulders while holding his gaze. Terry’s tongue—thick and pink—poked out and Aaliyah accepted the invitation of touching tongues with him. His fingers moved her panties to the side. He grunted into Aaliyah’s mouth.

“Damn…damn…”

His fingers rubbed up and down. Aaliyah spread her thighs further.

“There you go…nasty girl… spreading your legs like that…want me to touch all over this pussy…I like that…”

His words. She whimpered when his fingers started doing that up and down motion between her swollen labia and over her stiff clit. Aaliyah couldn’t believe how wet her pussy is. Creamy viscous spread all over her.

“Unh…Terry…”

“This what you think about? You think about me expressing how much I want you with my fingers in your pussy?…”

Two fingers sank deep. Aaliyah’s mouth dropped open. Terry’s brows furrowed and his eyes would flicker from her face to his hand moving up and down in her leggings.

“Aaliyah…this lil’ pussy tight, girl…I can’t believe I’m fingering you right now…”

He looked like he couldn’t believe it. Jade eyes intense.

“It’s s–s–so, wet…”

His words stuttered out in disbelief.

“My pussy like you just as much as I do, Professor…”

Aaliyah chewed on her bottom lip and her head lulled back. She started bouncing on his fingers. Damn, she missed this. She missed being fingered the proper way. She ain’t have dick in almost a year. The last man to have her was a mistake and not even worth mentioning. All she could focus on was keeping her legs spread and that pussy open.

“Good girl…you follow directions well…I like that,” Terry dragged his teeth along his bottom lip, “Look at me, Aaliyah…”

She did as she was told.

“I played your little game. Now what?”

He was toying with her.

This man…this was another side to him she was more than excited to see.

“Now you make me cum…make me cum, Professor.”

Terry chuckled, “Make this pussy cum?”

His fingers were knuckle deep.

“Send me home in a puddle, Terry…”

“Mmm…that sweet, little voice gon’ get you in trouble…keep moaning…uh-huh…mhmmmm…”

Aaliyah clamped down on his fingers. She lowered her head over his headrest and rode out her orgasm. So intense. It hit her like a freight train. Terry pressed deeper, stroking a spot that had Aaliyah crying. Terry gently withdrew his fingers. Aaliyah’s breaths slowed down, but her body was still recovering from the after shocks.

His hand resurfaced just as the sun peered over the storm clouds. The aroma of her pussy and the cum clinging to his fingers flooded her nose in the best way. Terry held his manicured fingers up. Aaliyah locked her gaze on creamy–white goodness all over his fingers and dripping down to his wrist.

Terry played with it. Rubbing his fingertips together. Spreading his fingers to see how slimy it looked. Aaliyah watched him suck each finger while his eyes never left her face.

“I taste good?” Aaliyah asked with a smile.

“Fuckin’ amazing, baby…”

Terry licked his lips and Aaliyah leaned in to steal a kiss. They kissed for some time before Terry broke away. He released a growl of frustration.

“I gotta head back to campus…I have an exam for my next class…”

Aaliyah pecked his lips before climbing off his lap and into her seat. Terry had his lip pouted while fixing himself. Aaliyah giggled, her eyes dropping down to his neglected erection. He caught her watching, grabbing her wrist and sitting her hand over his bulge.

It…was…thick…

“It’s so big…”

Aaliyah explored, squeezing and stroking…Terry swiped his bottom lip with his tongue and closed his eyes for a second to gather himself. Aaliyah removed her hand and Terry looked over at her like he didn’t want her to stop. Ever. She didn’t want to go, but Terry needed to get back to Campus. The last thing she’d ever want to do is sabotage his career.

“I don’t want to leave, but it’s okay…I’ll see you Friday, right?” Terry questioned, grabbing Aaliyah’s hand and kissing the back of it over and over.

“Yes. I’ll be there…”

Terry made a come hither motion and Aaliyah obeyed, slipping him some final tongue before they parted ways. Terry put his glasses back on, giving Aaliyah one final look of longing. She knew she had to be the one to leave him behind because if she didn’t, he would have skipped the class and spent the rest of the day proving to her just how much he needed her.

“Bye, Professor.”

Aaliyah opened the car door. She hopped down from his truck, grabbing her jean jacket. She blew Terry a kiss before shutting his door and heading towards her Jeep.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the taste of her pussy on his tongue and her scent on his fingers while he lectured.

——

Aaliyah 🌹: Studying for an exam tomorrow. I’ll talk to you later, okay? I had a really great time today 😏 just might touch myself thinking about it. Sweet Dreams, Professor. Xoxoxo 👄

Terry moved towards his living room, an NBA game on in the background. He was shirtless with black joggers on and a durag over his short curls. A single gold cross chain sat in the middle of his pecs. The heels of his socked feet sat into the throw rug beneath him. He had grilled salmon, broccoli, and dirty rice for dinner.

Aaliyah.

That woman awakened something primal in him. Although his eyes bounced back and forth across the screen, his mind wandered to the way his taste buds craved more pussy. He had such a good time getting to know her. The way her lips felt like the softest cushion against his lips. The soft, little whimpers she made drove him crazy. He dragged a hand down his face.

He studiously ignored the monster in his joggers.

Could’ve been full of something else if you had just taken what was in front of you.

The game did nothing to calm down his body. He flipped through the channels looking for something, anything to distract himself from the length of his dick pulsing against his thigh. Terry shifted his hips on the couch, the fight to ignore it impossible.

“Send me home in a puddle, Terry.”

Terry could still hardly believe that he had Aaliyah in his lap, lips against hers, fingers deep in her pussy, and in public. The morbid excitement from earlier returned to him in tenfold, echoing in the throb of his manhood. He stared forward at the movements on his television unseeingly, fighting his mind as it tried to conjure up an image of himself between Aaliyah’s legs. Her pretty pussy gleaming at him naughtily making his mouth water. He wanted to be the only one to taste her for as long as he lived. To bury his face in between her buttery–smooth thighs to kiss, lick and tongue fuck her until she was a whimpering, quivering mess. His name a constant chant on her lips as she feebly tried to push him away after her orgasm. He wouldn’t stop. Not until all she wanted was him.

“Terry…Terry…right there, Terry…”

“Shit,” he grunted as he lifted his hips off the couch slightly, pulling his joggers down to his thighs, his engorged dick springing free, curving up to look at him. The purpling head waved in the air at him in greeting and invitation. Terry scrubbed a hand over his face at the sight, exasperated at his excitement for a girl he’d never seen naked and his inability to turn this shit off. Sleep wasn’t going to come easily to him if he didn’t take care of big boy first.

Terry’s eyes tracked a drop of precum as it dribbled over his head and down his pulsating shaft, collecting at his heavy balls. His dick was quite literally demanding attention, the veins overly pronoucned along the sides beating in time with his heart, and he was hard pressed not to give in. He hadn’t touched himself in a few days, work had kept him busy and the thoughts of Aaliyah after the bachelor party had given him a reason to. He quickly contemplated walking back to his room and using his fleshlight to get the job done before he decided against it. He was too needy to move now.

Tentative fingers ran over the velvety tip, collecting the beads of moisture there and spreading them around slowly. He closed his blue–gray eyes and pushed his head back into the sofa cushion with a flex of his hips. A harsh ‘fuck’ escaped his clenched teeth at the sensitivity. This was going to be quick, rough and lacking any of the finesse he usually showcased in any moment of sexual gratification. Even if that moment was just with him.

Terry’s dominant hand wrapped lightly around himself, trying to mimic how his Aaliyah would touch him, his other dragging over his exposed abdomen. His hand pulled down roughly, electing a low groan from him, as a fantasy bloomed in his mind. He could see her behind his lids that had fallen closed. Kneeling in front of him, between his parted thighs, bright eyes glued to his expression as she bit her lip in concentration. Watching him with that sassy look she got any time she wanted things her way.

Terry spread his knees as far as his joggers would allow, his hand twisting and pulling himself, gaining momentum with every tight pass of the head. Thumb coming up to swiped over the moist slit. Half curses spewed out of him as his pace quickens, his free hand coming down to fondle his sack. Rolling it between his fingers. The sensation doing nothing to abate his impending release.

“Fuccccckkk…..” his voice hitched and raised, battling with the enthusiastic wet sounds of his hand pumping.

His fantasy girl looked between him and his twitching dick, her hand moving as fast as he was. She licked her parted lips and leaned towards his thick pipe. Her warm breath only heightened his pleasure as she whispered to him lowly.

“Cum for me, Professor…”

And he did just that. His heels dug into the plush rug beneath him, using it for leverage as he fucked up into his hand, the coil in his belly growing tighter until it snapped. A croak of Aaliyah’s name bouncing off his walls. Thick spurts of warm cum landing haphazardly across his upper body didn’t deter him as he continued to drag his fist over his oozing dick until the motion became too much for his overly sensitive body. Legs shuddering with each pass.

Terry let go with a deep sigh, taut body relaxing slowly until he was sitting naturally in his seat. Terry glanced down at the evidence of his ecstasy littered across his chest, stomach and hand.

He huffed an annoyed laugh at how quickly his orgasm had taken him. And how hard his dick still was as it bobbed in front of him, his stamina was working against him this time around. With a disbelieving shake of his head, he gripped the base, pulling his hand with a slow rotation of his wrist upwards. His release making the perfect slick for round two.

“F–fuuck, babyyy…” Terry hissed at the feeling. He let go, palming the head a few seconds to stave off the mounting pressure. He would not come that quickly again.

Terry took his time, languidly pulling at his dick, unrushed. Rubbing his free hand up and down his stomach, tweaking his nipple quickly before sliding back down. He repeated this process as his hand gradually picked up speed.

The short nails on Terry’s left hand bit deliciously into his skin as he raked them down his chest and stomach. The sharp pain was closely followed by a wave of hazy pleasure causing his hips to buck faster into his hand. He abandoned all notion of slow, the tightening in his balls and urge to reach completion pushing fast and hard to the forefront of his mind. The juxtaposition of two intense sensations never failed to throw him over the edge.

Terry threw his head back, neck straining as he clenched his jaw. A constant string of yes, fuck, yes screaming in his head as his abdominal muscles flexed and clenched. His hand is almost a blur with how quickly he’s moving.

Twist

Grip

Plunge

Slap

Squeeze

Fucking Aaliyah did this to him. Those eyes, that smile, her voice, that goddamn body…

Flashes of her twerking in a split, making that ass clap, looking back at it, licking her lips with that tongue ring, talking her shit, how sweet her pussy tasted, how snug her walls were around his fingers.

He wished it was her. Her delicate hand working him. Her brown eyes drooping with arousal. Her heavenly voice encouraging him to go ahead. Let go. He could almost smell her. Almost taste her.

Her pussy was so fucking sweet. He couldn’t wait to suck on her pussy. He wanted to bury his nose into it and draw in a deep breath that almost burned his lungs. He wanted to make her unravel beneath his tortuous tongue and lips. Over and over and over—

He erupted at the thought, breathing hard and keening through his messy release. The second nut even more than the first. Still, he continued to stroke, torturing himself, milking himself like he wanted her to.

Terry was out of breath by the end of it. Body spent and tingling.

So much for not cumming quickly.

He sat there for a long time, waiting for the hollow feeling to retreat from his bones, his cum cooling on his skin. He needed to take another shower.

But what he really needed was her.

Friday couldn’t come fast enough.

@theereina @bombshellbre95 @planetblaque @trippyscotch @megamindsecretlair @uzumaki-rebellion @thesweetestdrug @theblulife @hotgrlcece @blackerthings @deja-r @helloncrocs @hearteyes-for-killmonger @kaylabuggggg06 @skyesthebomb @blyffe @gwenda-fav @beenathembo @blackpinup22 @novaniskye @melaninhawtie @urfavblackbimbo @avoidthings @rose-bliss @xo-goldengirl @kinginwithbreezy-blog @mysecertdiaryofableedingheart @sirenmouths @creartivefairy @soulfulbeauty19 @therealmrsrhodes @hrlzy @nayaesworld @gg-trini @brattyfics @flydotty @writingsbytee @shiania @browngirldominion @notapradagurl7 @madamzola @kismet83 @aristasworld @sl33p-deprived-princess @erynnnn @itssbrie @melaninangel @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @sweettea-and-honeybutter @dashhoney25

[yinemw]

𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫����'𝐬 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐬

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: coloring Satoru’s eyelashes like the rainbow 🌈 (gender neutral reader)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: none, just fluff

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫��𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: Gojo Satoru from JJK

𝐦.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“You love me, right?”

Gojo immediately hummed at your question, chewing his mochi as he entered the kitchen. Placing the packaging of the other treats he had bought for the both of you on his way home.

“That means you’ll let me do anything to you, right?”

“I’m both intrigued and scared of where you’re taking this” he raised an eyebrow, taking a seat next to you and placing a kiss to your forehead like he always did when he got home. “But sure, I’m yours, do whatever you want” he shrugged, knowing he was fully devoted to you. There wasn’t a task in the world he wouldn’t do if it made you happy.

“Great!” You smile, taking ahold of his hand and dragging him to the bathroom. His unfinished mochi almost falling to the floor from the sudden pull. A muffled yell escaping his lips as he chewed the rest of the sweet treat.

“I kinda like you manhandling me like this” he smirked after you had physically lifted the 6’3 man onto the bathroom counter. Reaching out your hand to wipe away the powdered sugar on his lips before starting to rummage through the cupboard “But shouldn’t I be the one standing for this?”

“You’ve got the wrong idea” you wave your hand in the air, practically bouncing on your heels from the excitement. “I’m coloring your lashes” finally you find the mascaras you had bought a few days ago online, the colors ranging from a deep blue to a vibrant yellow.

“You’re doing what now?” He took off his sunglasses, white lashes and ocean blue eyes taking your breath away each time. “When did you even get these? I’m with you all the time, I don’t remember you ever ordering these” he picks up the pink mascara with his slender fingers, inspecting it closer.

“Remember the day you bet Suguru you could eat more mochi’s then him? And you passed out after the sugar rush?”

“No…”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought” you giggle, opening the green mascara and giving it a few pumps to see the color. “This will work so well on your lashes Toru, I’ll just need to use a smaller brush to color each section of your eyelashes the different colors” you think out loud, already searching for said brush.

Satoru was patiently sitting on the counter, feet dangling back and forth like a small child. He loved seeing you so happy and passionate about something, especially if it involved him.

“Ah-ha! Found one!” No time was wasted before you opened each mascara tube, taking a little of the color on the brush and starting to section Satoru’s lashes by color.

“What’s wrong?” He asks after a few seconds, seeing the frown between your browns. Your hands carefully holding his head in place as you worked slowly.

“I don’t think I’ve been this close to your eyeball before, it’s distracting” you mumble, biting your lower lip as a habit of concentration. Adding the red color over his lashes. Soon enough there wasn’t a trace of the pearly white color of his long lashes.

Storu lets out a snicker, placing his large hands on your hips to pull you even closer. Trapping you between his legs. All he could do was watch your concentrate as he tried to keep as still as possible, knowing you’d get all pouty if he made you mess up your masterpiece.

It took a few minutes, but you finished eventually. Placing the brush back down on the counter and letting satoru jump down. “Personally, I think I did a great job” you say proudly, watching as Satoru bats his eyelashes in the mirror. Who could blame him, he looked even prettier than usual with his rainbow lashes. “I don’t even care if you like it or not, this is not the last time I’m doing this”

“We should do my hair next”

“What?!”

He turns around to look back at you, such a genuine and almost childlike smile on his lips. “We should color my hair rainbow!”

Your jaw was practically on the floor, because how was he reading your mind? He wants you to color his hair rainbow? Willingly? He will let you? “And put a bow in it?”

“And put a bow in it!”

𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑏𝑦: ★

[tarysande]

I made the original post in 2014. Ten years ago. Which is ... incomprehensible to me, quite frankly. And I was talking about a time several years earlier. So, Grace Shepard has been a part of my life for almost, what, 14 years?

In the last few months, I've fallen in love with Mass Effect again. (I was never OUT of love with it, but I was burned out and overworked and I hadn't played anything more demanding than match-3 games on my phone for years.) It still holds up. It still connects. It still taps right in to some vein of creativity that never seems to dry up (even though I haven't had the chance to create much lately).

What blows my mind in the best possible way is that here's a trilogy (and Andromeda, I know) that's been around AND FINISHED for over a decade, and yet the fandom is still thriving and new folks are still finding it.

And Grace is still as important to me as she ever was.

So, here's to the old fans and the new; here's to the fans just finding this game, and the ones who are no longer here with us to celebrate hopeful, loving, sometimes-silly things like N7 Day. Pour one out for this game that keeps on giving, all these years later. I'm so glad it's been and continues to be part of my life, my creativity, and so many of my friendships.

This is Grace Celeste Shepard. Colonist. War Hero. Infiltrator. If you’re following me, you probably know her. I’ve written a few novels’ worth of fanfiction about her. To say nothing of the reams of headcanon and answered questions I’ve tackled over the years. I talk about her a lot. She’s become incredibly important to me.

And I never expected to love her. If I’m honest, I never really expected to finish playing her game.

Grace and I met a little over three and a half years ago. Mass Effect 3 was about to drop, and I was seeing a ton of ME stuff all over my usually-Dragon-Age-heavy dash. I was skeptical, but I wanted to know what all the fuss was about.

I came to Mass Effect reluctantly, like a kid who really wants to go swimming but is too afraid to dive in. I expected the water to be cold, or full of weeds. Imagine my surprise when I dipped my toes in and found it perfectly warm and clear and inviting.

Grace and I have been through some rough stuff together. I’ve almost killed her a few times. I’ve made her nearly starve to death, nearly freeze to death, nearly forget herself. I’ve made her doubt her own sanity, her own personhood, her own purpose. I dropped a couple of unexpected adopted kids on her. And, you know? She’s never given up on me. Her voice has never gone silent; she’s always been there with her story, waiting for me to catch up and play the scribe she knows I can be. She and her story have carried me through two international moves, through loneliness and isolation so intense it felt unsurvivable, through doubt and fear and frustration. She’s introduced me to more people–friends, fans, fellow fandom flailers–than I ever thought imaginable. What a gift that is. I will always, always be grateful to her–and to Mass Effect–for it.

So, Happy N7 Day, Grace. Happy N7 Day to all the Commanders Shepard out there, and the people who love them. And Happy N7 Day, BioWare. Thanks for giving us such a treasure to play with.

[prodagustd]

surprise | myg

this is an extra chapter of the so it goes series.

—pairing: rapper!yoongi x reader

—rating: +18

—genre: established relationship, ex fwb, angst, fluff

—warnings/tags: implied smut, lots of angst, fluff, subtle talk about aborti0n, DON’T trust my poor knowledge in contraceptive methods and use condoms!! english is not my first language btw

—words: 7.6k

a/note: this is proof that if you ask me enough, I'll finish writing my wips!! it's been a long time but I finally get to post the surprise drabble I've been planning and it makes me sososo happy to come back to this couple 😭 I missed them so much I just hope you missed them as much as I did!! BTW I was planning to post this after two other drabbles, so if you read any additional information it's because this was intended to be posted after that, but i wanted to post this so badly😭 so here it is!! hehe anyway enjoy!!

A few years ago, when you and Yoongi were beginning to be a thing and you still lived with your best friend, Nayeon, while he lived alone in his big apartment, he picked up this habit of begging you to stay the night with him every time you visited, even though he knew you couldn’t. You used to say no, trying hard to ignore the way he kissed your neck and sneaked his hands under your blouse while explaining that, if you said yes, he was willing to wake up early and drive you to your first class the next day. You'd think that after the first or maybe even the second time he tried this, the effect would wear off, but you ended up agreeing every single time.

Back then everything was so new to him, he couldn’t remember the last time he liked someone that much, he didn’t know what was happening to him and why he wanted to spend every night with you, why he couldn’t keep his hands off you. Sure you were pretty, sure you were beautiful and funny, and your lips tasted like strawberries and you looked at him like one else ever did, maybe it had something to do with that, who knew? The only thing he knew was that he felt like a teenager everytime you kissed him, or every time you ran your fingers through his hair or every time you were naked under him, or on top of him, or anywhere close to him for that matter. 

It took Yoongi a few hits, ten drunk nights and way too many days to realize that you were the only thing that he needed, that the world only made sense if you were by his side. 

With time, Yoongi learned to kiss slowly, to make love slowly, to take things with ease; he learned that you were going nowhere, but there were still those moments where he felt he couldn’t get enough of you; like tonight, to be exact. 

You were sure that in the last four years of dating Yoongi you had made it clear enough that you were a city girl, and you were certain your boyfriend knew that. You loved the noise and the chaos—the people bumping into each other on the streets, the busy days and nights. It wasn’t something you planned to give up anytime soon; this was the perfect time in your life to embrace the city's hustle. You’d have plenty of time for a quiet life when you got older.

Yoongi liked the city too—he enjoyed the view from his apartment window and the convenience of ordering food at any hour of the night. But he also loved road trips and sleeping in the middle of nowhere in a tent, bonfires, fishing and swimming in lakes. Yoongi had always been into camping, but instead of planning a trip with his good old friend Seokjin, who didn’t mind sleeping in a tent and loved fishing, he invited you—someone who hated bugs and couldn’t stand the idea of walking more than three minutes to find a bathroom.

You were still trying to decide whether not being able to say no to Yoongi was a problem, but it was his last free week before going back on tour. When he looked at you with starry eyes and asked you to go on a trip with him, which included spending the last two days sleeping in a tent, you couldn’t say no.

It was only two days, you were sure you could endure not sleeping in a proper bed for that long if that made him happy, you made the effort of not complaining just for tonight, after all you only had tickets to go visit him on tour in exactly five weeks, you were going to miss him. 

It was easy not to complain when Yoongi’s plans for your last night together were exclusively romantic; he cooked for you, built a campfire and spent the rest of the night stargazing until it was too cold to be outside, and when you were inside the tent he made sure to have hot water bags under the blankets, but they were no use when he was determined to get you naked. 

Did you mention that it was still winter?

Now you were trapped in a tent with him, straddling him as he kissed you deeply and gripped your thighs, begging you to ride him against your lips. That was when you started to complain. 

You felt your whole body shivering when Yoongi’s warm hands pulled your t-shirt over your head, leaving you almost naked. You hugged your torso, attempting to cover your breasts as you sat straight on top of your boyfriend, who was comfortably laying on the sleeping bag, fully clothed. 

“Yoongi, I’m cold.” You whined.

“C’mon, it’s going to wear off” He tried to convince you, rubbing his palms over your shoulders to keep you warm. You shook your head, laying your head on his still clothed chest as he covered your bare back with the blanket. It was easy for him to say that when he was wearing sweatpants and a long sleeve t-shirt. 

You knew that Yoongi was already missing you. He was fully aware that after tonight, he wouldn’t see you for a whole month and he wanted to make it last as long as he could, to hold you and kiss you as much as you let him. He had gotten too used to you—used to sleeping and waking up next to you, having you all to himself—but it became a problem every time he had to leave for work, it was impossible not to miss you. You still had texts, calls and FaceTime, but he was also taking into account time difference, work, and the fact that all of that wasn’t the real thing. And if you were honest, you were already missing him too. 

“What if I catch a cold?” You mumbled over his shirt. 

Yoongi kissed the top of your head, running his hands down your bare back and sending chills to your spine. How was he able to get you almost naked but you didn’t even get the chance to take off his t-shirt? “It’s not that cold.” He said, not willing to give up. 

You raised your head to look at him, frowning “Says the person who’s still fully clothed.”

He huffed, flipping you over to leave you under him. Suddenly, warmth rushed over you as you felt his body hovering over your frame. He was quick to take off his own t-shirt, trying to make you happy, but he quickly realized that maybe you were right, it was fucking cold, but he wasn’t going to back down.

“Happy now?”

“No, it’s freezing out there!” You kept complaining “Why do we have to do it without clothes? I don’t mind clothes, I actually think that doing it while being dressed is quite hot.” 

You threw your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you. Even though you were in fact turned on from the kissing and grinding session you had a few moments ago, you still were thinking about the logistics of fucking inside the tent. 

Yoongi scoffed, amused.  “And I actually think that you being naked is quite hot, too.” He said, sneaking his face in the crook of your neck to trail down little kisses, nibbling the skin softly. “C’mon, baby. I won’t see you for weeks, let me make love to you.”

You tried not to roll your eyes. “You had been using that excuse the whole trip.” And you’ve fallen for it every time. His plans for this trip were very simple: fishing, camping and fucking you on every opportunity he had. It was not like you were against it, it has been a long time since you and him had time only for the two of you. 

“But isn’t it true?” He gazed up, looking at you with his soft eyes, his hair falling like a curtain on his face. “I’m gonna miss you.” 

You took a second to observe the tenderness of his features, to take in the softness of his voice, and for a moment there you knew why it was so hard to say no to him, you just didn’t want to say no. 

You closed your eyes, scrunching your nose. “We are gonna make such a mess.” You whined, but he just chuckled, knowing he won.

“I’ll take care of it, I promise.” He said with a soft voice, reaching for your lips as he roamed his hands towards your chest. You didn’t exactly know how he was going to “take care of it��, but his hands were gentle, the kiss was slow and when he opened his mouth to let his tongue slip past your lips, you were too into it to keep protesting about it.

As you sat on the cold bathroom floor of the home you shared with Yoongi, you tried to remind yourself of two basic things that you hoped would stop the sinking feeling in your chest. First, three weeks without Yoongi never killed anyone, this was something you knew from experience, Yoongi’s job demanded him to travel all the time, you were used to it, or at least you were supposed to be. Second, you were an independent woman (right?). You have been an independent woman since you were eighteen when you moved to Seoul alone, since you started a new life in a new city on your own. You woke up at six am everyday, worked hard your whole shift, paid the bills every month and managed to keep your house in order every day of the week. Sure, you loved Yoongi, and he loved you, and you could never imagine a life without him, but you didn’t need him, you wanted him. He wasn’t an extension of you, you were your own person, but why did you feel like the world was about to end right now if he was not there?

Crying your heart out like a five year old kid, you remembered the only time you had to take a pregnancy test, and how it looked nothing like this. 

Four years ago when you and Yoongi still didn’t kiss in front of your friends, when he still thought twice before holding your hand in public but still had the nerve of sneaking in your bed. That seemed like a hundred years ago, a universe away, but no, it was not too long ago when you were stubborn and kind of irresponsible for agreeing with him as he kissed your neck and ran his hands down your thighs while asking you if it was okay for him to “pull out” that night, since both of you completely forgot about condoms. You winced at the memory, but in your defense, you were too far gone to say no, take a cold shower and kiss him goodnight. You agreed only for that night, but three weeks later you were three days late and losing your mind, the only logical thing to do was to take a pregnancy test that, of course, came negative, but to this day you couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that you felt in your stomach those minutes before the negative sign appeared, and you couldn’t forget how pale Yoongi’s face turned when you told him about it. 

And now you were there, one hand covering your face while the other held a pregnancy test—only this time, it was positive. 

The one on your hand wasn’t the only one, no. There were two other positive tests laying on the floor in front of you, and even if you wanted to not trust the results, they couldn’t be all wrong, right? The plus sign was very clear in each one of them and you were five days late. The problem was that you were on the pill, you had been on the pill for the last couple years and this never happened to you, this wasn’t something normal or a simple mistake. 

You breathed out, trying not to panic. You got up on your bare feet to look at yourself in the mirror. You were a mess, that was not a surprise at all, your face was all swollen for the amount of time you have been crying and your hair was a big nest above your head. You washed your face, attempting to remain calm and evaluating your options. You glanced at your phone resting on the sink, and an overwhelming urge to call your mother surged within you, but as you imagined how the conversation would go, you quickly realized it wouldn’t be a good idea.

Your mother was not nosy, but she could be a little dense, a bit complicated, and it was not what you needed right now. You were sure that calling her while having a mental breakdown was going to drive her crazy, and consequently, drive you crazy too.  She would want to know every single detail, date, place and hour to understand the situation better, and you would have to explain something you didn’t even understand yet. You could imagine the conversation, she would try to explain every contraceptive method like you were a teenager and ask why you didn’t use a condom, because you knew she would ask, and you didn’t want to explain to her how you went on vacation with your boyfriend to have a bunch of condomless sex, the thought alone made you want to vomit. 

Calling your mother was not an option, not only because talking to her on the phone was complicated enough, but because she was in a different city, which brought you to discard calling Nayeon too, who was on vacation with her boyfriend (yes, boyfriend, that sounded ridiculous to you, too.) 

The last option was something you couldn't even fathom doing unless you were desperate, but you know what they say, desperate times call desperate measures, so you blew your nose, brushed your hair and called the only person in this city who would come running without asking any questions, Jungkook.

Breaking the news to the person in front of you wasn’t easy, especially when the words you needed to say were as unreal as they sounded. You didn’t look much better, you spent the next thirty minutes that Jungkook took to arrive crying, as Holly, the brown fluffy dog, looked at you like you just went mad, the worst thing was that you weren’t far from it. It was difficult to keep it together when your mind refused to look at the bright side of things, when you couldn’t call your mom and Yoongi was in another country, but when Jungkook rang your bell and entered through the door, you tried your best to smile at him and act like you weren’t in the middle of a mental breakdown. 

Your act wasn’t convincing, your friend looked at you like you were about to tell him that you killed someone and you needed help to hide the body.

You would have never recur to a man other than Yoongi for this kind of situation, but you decided to trust your ten years of friendship with the man in front of you and hope that he could be of any help. 

“You are what?” Said Jungkook, standing in the middle of the living room with his eyes wide open, trying to understand the meaning of your words.

There, in your pajamas and your hands on your hips, you closed your eyes shut, sighing. “Jungkook…” You said through gritted teeth. 

“I’m serious.” He said, letting his backpack drop to the floor. “I crossed half the city to get here, are you not kidding me right now?”

“I’m serious, too!” You whined “I’m not kidding, I don’t know what to do.”

He slowly approached you, walking towards the couch to take a seat. He suddenly felt his blood pressure dropping, his stomach sinking and his mouth dry as if he was the one developing a human organism inside his body.  “Are you sure?” He murmured. “Are you not having one of those crises you had when you were a teenager? I remember that time in college when you freaked out when you thought you were pregnant because some guy-”

“Jungkook, I’m sure.” You interrupted him, already knowing the whole story, but this time it was not just you overreacting. “My period is late and I took three tests, all positive.” 

He gulped, letting the room fall silent for a few seconds as both of you contemplated what that meant. You knew he was trying his best not to freak out, so you were grateful for his reaction, at least he didn’t faint like you expected him to do, but he was still white as a sheet, trying to find a solution in his head as though you had told him he was the one who was going to be a father.

“What are we gonna do?” He said under his breath.

“What am I gonna do?” You corrected him, sitting next to him “You are supposed to help me.” 

Jungkook took one hard look at you, looking terrified. “How?”

“God, I shouldn’t have called you.” You rolled your eyes. 

“No, I mean, what do you want to do?” He said. “Did you tell Yoongi?”

“Of course not.” You replied, feeling your eyes getting teary, but still trying to hold back. 

“Do you want to… tell him?” He continued to ask. 

You sniffed “I mean, I don’t know how.” You pouted “I’m seeing him in two weeks, I don’t know if I can wait that long.” 

He threw himself back against the couch, sinking in the cushions. It was like Jungkook’s life flashed before his eyes, how come he was discussing this with you right now? He still felt like you were kids, there was no way you were pregnant right now. “How did this happen?” He murmured to himself, looking at the blank wall in front of him. 

“Is it necessary for me to explain it?” You cried, snuggling closer to him as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

“Did you not use condoms?” He scolded you like he was your mother. 

You shifted your weight uneasily, eyes darting down to your socks. “We don’t… use condoms.” You cleared your throat, the words coming out hushed and hesitant. “I’m on the pill, I don’t know what happened.”

On second thought, that wasn’t something Jungkook wanted to know. It was like finding out how his parents had sex, he squirmed at the thought, shifting in his place. “Can you not call your doctor?” He suggested, his voice laced with uncertainty.

You paused, considering it. It was probably the most logical thing Jungkook could say, but you weren’t sure if your doctor could do anything about it.

“Even if I call her and tell her what's going on, it’s not like I can get a refund.” You huffed, a dry smile tugging at your lips.

He raised an eyebrow. “Well…” he began, dragging the word out. “In some way, you could get a refund.” You blinked at him, opening your eyes wide in surprise. “I mean only if you want to!”

You were so nervous you wanted to laugh. It wasn’t like the thought  didn’t cross your mind for a moment, but only when you tried to evaluate your options; if you were being honest, you couldn’t see yourself getting rid of the baby—or whatever organism had been living rent-free in your body for the past three weeks. Jungkook looked terrified that you might explode at him, especially when it seemed like you were on the verge of tears, but his question made you think, if you didn’t want to get rid of it, what was that you wanted to do?

You sank your shoulders, feeling completely lost. “That’s the problem.” You murmured “I don’t know if I want a refund.” 

Jungkook stood still for a moment, his eyes softening as he watched you. His thoughts swirled, trying to grasp the weight of your words. 

"Would Yoongi want a refund?" He asked, his tone lighter than before, but the sincerity in his voice was unmistakable. Despite the attempt at humor, his eyes betrayed the concern he was masking with the joke. 

A shaky exhale left your lips, the weight of uncertainty pulling you down. “I don’t know…” Was the only thing you could say. 

“But do you know if Yoongi wanted… kids?” He said as if that was a forbidden word. “I mean, do you want them?”

It wasn’t like you didn’t know what Yoongi wanted. You sighed, suddenly remembering all those times when the idea of a family came up in conversations, between drunken thoughts, before falling asleep, at dinner with his parents and on the ride home when he apologized on his mother’s behalf when she asked when you were going to give her grandchildren. His soft eyes, his hand on your tight and the view of the future laying in front of you like a promise. The thought warmed your heart for a moment, but the truth was that there was a difference between talking about it and actually having kids.

“We’ve talked about it…” You admitted. “But we’ve never planned it, let alone now that he’s on tour.” 

Jungkook hummed, still thinking. 

“But you both agreed to have kids at some point.” He affirmed, and you just nodded. 

It was in that moment where you realized you were crying again, tears slowly falling down your cheeks as you stood in silence, contemplating the overwhelming weight of the situation. 

“Fuck, don’t cry.” Jungkook said, rushing to wrap his arms around you, he enveloped you in a tight hug. As soon as you buried your face into his chest, something inside you gave away. You began sobbing against his hoodie, the tears flowed freely and uncontrollable, unable to hold yourself back. “C’mon, it’s okay, you’re okay. Nothing bad’s gonna happen.” His voice was soft but firm, holding you tightly. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his thumb gently wiping away a tear from your cheek, his gaze filled with nothing but concern. “You don’t need to have it all figured out right now. Let’s go step by step, okay?”

You nodded, feeling like a kid lost in the mall. “Okay, if you want to see him as soon as possible, you have to change your flight first.” He said, but you shook your head, trying not to panic. 

“He’s going to ask why.” You said, your voice hoarse “What am I going to tell him?”

He kept silent, his eyes fixed on a distant point as he was trying to come up with a solution. 

“Let’s not tell him.” He proposed.

“What do you mean let’s not tell him?”

“I’m leaving for tour next weekend, you should come with me and not tell him.” He kept going “Say that you missed him and you wanted to surprise him or some shit like that, and when you get him alone you talk to him about this.” 

Now you were reminded that Jungkook had to leave to join Yoongi on tour in just a few days, you completely forgot about that. It was not like you couldn’t get on an airplane alone, but if your friend was going to be there you were sure it would make things easier. 

You couldn’t believe it. After so many years you were there, sad and upset and still with the same idiot as a friend, willing to follow whatever plan he was going to make for you. You didn’t know if the plan actually sounded good or you were losing your mind for listening to Jungkook.

“Jungkook, Yoongi texts me all the time, he facetimes me everyday. It’s impossible to travel to another country without him noticing.”

“It’s not impossible, I’m gonna help you.” He insisted “If he texts you, you say you’re at home, if he wants to facetime you, you say you’re busy, turn off your location, it shouldn't be difficult.”

“It is difficult, what if he realizes I turned off my location?” You groaned, running your finger through your hair exasperatedly. 

“You say it stopped working or something! C’mon, I thought you were smarter than me.”

You threw yourself back against the couch, crossing your arms on your chest, it was almost comical that you were considering the idea. Your friend could sense the hesitation in every move you made, he could only hope that you agreed because his mind couldn’t come up with another idea if his life depended on it. 

“Jungkook, if he suspects anything…” You raised a finger, digging it on his chest. 

“He won’t suspect a thing,” He affirmed confidently. “When have any of my plans ever gone wrong? Never. Trust me, by the time you get back home, you’ll have already decided to name your baby after me.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your laugh and punching him in the arm playfully. The tension was still there, and you still felt an inexplicable ache in your chest that wasn’t going away anytime soon, but being there with Jungkook made you feel that this wasn’t the end of the world, nor of your life, but the beginning of it.  

Jungkook's plan wasn’t the master plan he had been bragging about the whole airplane ride, but it worked. A few days later, after a few calls and arrangements to change your flight, after another three mental breakdowns and several crying sessions in the shower, you had somehow arrived in Berlin without Yoongi suspecting a thing. You had managed to dodge facetime calls and weird questions, maybe Yoongi missed you so much that he didn’t have time to question why you couldn’t wait two more weeks to see him when you arrived at the hotel and hugged in the hall, because, if he were honest, he couldn’t wait two more weeks to see you either. 

Yoongi was happy with the surprise, you went to see his show that night and after arriving to his hotel room he made love to you like he hadn’t seen you in a year, kissing your neck, grabbing your waist, murmuring things in your ear, saying how much he loved you, how much he missed you. For a moment it was like nothing changed, the two of you sharing what happened these last three weeks tangled between sheets, laughing between kisses as you ignored why you were there in the first place. 

“You can’t keep spending time away from me.” He said, hovering over you as he left a small kiss on your lips. “I’ll keep you in my pocket if it’s necessary.” 

You sighed, knowing that you couldn’t keep this a secret for much longer, but for tonight, you’ll let it slide. 

You didn’t know when you were returning home, but you promised yourself that before leaving for the next city, you would have to break the news to Yoongi, which was becoming more difficult by the second, because if you were good at something, that was procrastinating. It was absurd, a few days ago you were crying because all you wanted to do was to have your boyfriend by your side and now you couldn’t even look him in the eye without feeling like you were about to throw up, and your mind wasn’t helping at all. All those doubts invaded your head, attempting to drive you crazy, making you believe you were not ready to tell him yet.

Three days later, when you finished the last show in Berlin, Jungkook gave you a knowing look as you were leaving the arena holding Yoongi’s hand. He knew that you haven’t said a thing to Yoongi yet, he was all over you like he was your mother, asking you if you were okay, if you needed anything, when you were going to tell Yoongi, it almost made you regret telling him, but you knew he was right. 

A night was all you needed, just one night to gather your thoughts and practice what you were going to say. You couldn’t keep declining glasses of wine forever,  you could only hope no one noticed how weird you were acting, how sensitive you were since you stepped foot out the plane. Time was running out; you knew that when Yoongi invited you to an after-party before the whole crew left Berlin. Instead of telling him the truth, you simply said you weren’t in the mood to go, hoping that your time alone would help to gather enough courage to confess.

You weren’t trying to keep Yoongi with you, you told him a million times that he should go without you and that there was no problem with it. You hid under the blanket and hugged your body, watching him change his shirt into a black tee. He ran his finger through his hair in an attempt to tame it, looking at himself into the mirror and stealing a glance towards your reflection. He knew you too well not to notice the sad expression on your face as you scrolled through your phone, searching for a Disney movie to watch while he was out. He turned around, approaching the bed and kneeling beside you to catch your eyes. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” He asked once again.

“Yeah, I just need one night.” You said, which was true. You needed a few more moments to finish fighting with your own thoughts. 

“But are you okay?” He continued to ask, cupping your jaw in his palm.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” The words came out of your mouth with more emotion than you intended to, he couldn’t ignore it. 

“I don’t know… You look like you want me to stay.”

There was a beat of silence in the room. The sweetness of his voice broke your heart into a million pieces. You couldn’t say yes and make him stay just because you were feeling down and you really had no problem with him leaving, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him no either. You were full of contradictions, wanting to be alone but wanting to be with him at the same time, something in your chest pulled, wanting him close. 

“What makes you think that?” You murmured, fighting the urge to cry. God, you were too sensitive.

“Mmm… The Disney movie kinda gives you away.”

You huffled, playing with the fingers of his hands without looking at him. “I don’t want to ruin your fun… You should go, I mean it.”

He scoffed “You won’t, there’s going to be a bunch of parties until the tour ends, this one is nothing.”

“They’ll miss you…”

“You’ll miss me, too.”

“But do you want to stay, though?” You asked him a whisper. 

“Of course I want to… But you have to let me choose the movie.” He warned, automatically making you giggle.

Letting Yoongi choose the movie was the worst decision you have made in the last week so far, but you felt grateful he couldn’t see you as he hugged your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder, because as the ending of Inside Out approached, you were sure you were about to cry. 

When you arrived at the airport you promised yourself not to cry anymore, not in front of Yoongi at least, but your body was full of emotions you didn’t even know you could feel. It was certain that you’ve always been a sensitive person, you cried at the drop of a hat, Yoongi was familiar with that, but now it was impossible to stop it. 

You’d stopped paying attention to the screen entirely; one by one, your darkest thoughts crept in, pressing heavily on your chest. The feelings you’d tried so hard to bury rose up, churning uneasily in your stomach, and when you least expected it, tears began to fall down your cheeks.

A sob escaped from your lips at the same time the main character began to cry, making your boyfriend shift in his place. 

“Are you crying?” Yoongi suddenly asked, softly grabbing your shoulder to turn you around. He looked at your face, at first amused, thinking you were crying because of the movie. But his expression softened when he saw the sadness in your eyes and the damp lashes heavy with tears. You covered your face, unable to hold back, and the sobs came harder, each one swallowing the words you couldn’t say. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He reached for your arms, attempting to pull them away from your face, but you turned away, burying your face in the pillow.

“Nothing,” You lied, desperate to avoid this conversation again. “I’m just… emotional, I don’t know.” Your voice cracked, hoarse, as the emotions you were trying to hide slipped through.

Yoongi was confused, but mostly worried. You had been weird since the day you arrived, he would be a fool not to notice. 

He turned the light of the lamp on the nightstand, illuminating the room with a soft orange light and turned the tv off. 

“Hey, look at me.” He softly said, brushing your hair with his fingers, it only made you want to cry harder. “I know something’s up, I’m not a dummy.” 

You turned to him, hitting him with the most heartbreaking sight he could witness, your face soaked in tears, nose and eyes red as you pouted at him. What was so wrong to make you cry like that?

“What do you know?” Was the only thing you could say, daring to be upset at him when he hadn't done anything wrong. 

He frowned at your tone. “Well, I know that you suddenly came here two weeks earlier just because. You are weird, you almost don’t eat, your suitcase is almost untouched like you’re going to leave anytime soon, you look… sad? I don’t know, baby, you tell me.”

You kept silent for a second, wiping the tears with the sleeve of your t-shirt. Uncomfortable, you sat in the bed, taking a deep breath as your mind completely blanked. You didn’t realize yet, but there was no way to get out of this one.

Contrary to popular belief, your boyfriend was kind of a dummy. You confirmed it when he decided to say the following words. 

“Is it because of Lily?” He said, making you dart your eyes at him. “You don’t like her being here? 

You couldn’t blame Yoongi for not understanding why you were crying, but the suggestion that you were jealous of one of his coworkers made you want to punch him. Lily was one of the new producers at Yoongi’s label, and a few months ago, Yoongi had noticed that you were starting to feel uneasy about the amount of time she was spending with him, which led him to realize that you were beginning to feel unexpectedly jealous of her. Yes, that was a whole deal back then, but it was water under the bridge now; the fact that she was touring with him and the boys didn’t faze you. The idea that he thought you were crying because of her was ridiculous. 

“Yoongi, are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m not.” He defended himself. “The last time I saw you we were fine, but now you’re here crying and I don’t have a clue what I did wrong.”

Suddenly, you felt your heart sink. He hadn’t done anything wrong; it was you who was an emotional wreck, struggling to keep your feelings in check. A wave of guilt washed over you for the mess you’d just created, convinced there must have been ways to prevent all this conflict. But now, all you could do was sit there, tangled in the aftermath of your own emotions.

You sighed, defeated. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” You said “And it’s not about Lily, I couldn’t care less about that… It’s just that- … Yoongi…”

“Baby…” He said in the same tone as you, “What is it?”

As Yoongi’s gentle question hung in the air, you felt a knot tighten in your chest. The truth sat heavy on your tongue, you glanced away, fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve, buying time as your thoughts spiraled. “Yoongi, my period is late.” You confessed, observing Yoongi’s eyes go wide, his brows lifting in surprise as he tried to understand what he just heard. “It’s been a week now, I don’t know what happened. I tried to wait, but I had to take a test”

 “A test?” he asked, voice low, surprise flickering in his eyes.

“A pregnancy test, Yoongi.” You said, trying not to roll your eyes. “I took three damn tests.”

“And what-... what happened?” He asked, his voice unsteady, eyes fixed on yours.

The room felt suddenly smaller, the air thick with unspoken fears and questions. A quiet stillness settled between you both, there was a weight to the silence, stretching out the seconds as you waited for whatever words would come next.

“I mean, guess what happened,” you whispered. Before you could finish the sentence, you got up and reached for the zipper on your suitcase pocket. Your hand closed around the large object, and you felt his eyes on the back of your neck, following you as you moved around the hotel room. Returning to the bed, you sat down and handed him the pregnancy test.

Yoongi didn’t know anything about pregnancy tests—he’d never needed to. He’d always been careful, using protection with every girl he’d been with, including you, until things had started to get serious. So no, he wasn’t familiar with the variety of pregnancy tests out there. But now, here he was, staring at a white stick with a tiny screen, showing a clear positive sign, which could only mean one thing.

Yoongi’s hands trembled slightly as he held the pregnancy test, his gaze locked onto the tiny screen, staring at it for a moment, speechless. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, loud enough that he thought you might hear it. Now everything made sense, how you said you were nauseous in the morning, each time you refused to drink wine, how you looked like you were about to cry when you saw a stroller with twins this afternoon at the park. How could he not notice?

You pressed your lips together, feeling the familiar sting of tears welling up once more. A small, shaky hiccup escaped your lips, breaking the silence and snapping him out of his daze. “No, no, no,” He murmured urgently, setting the test aside and pulling you close, lifting you effortlessly onto his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist as you buried your face in your hands, trying to hold back the tears. “Hey, there’s no reason to cry,” He whispered, gently guiding your face up, his fingers lifting your chin as he coaxed your hands away. “C’mon, look at me.” His voice was soft, reassuring, his gaze full of warmth and understanding.

“I don’t know how it happened.” You blurted out, your voice shaking with uncertainty.

“That doesn’t matter now, why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, you could tell he was trying to remain calm by the soft tone of his voice, but his face had gone as white as paper, like he’d just seen a ghost.

“I arranged the flight to see you as soon as possible, but... I was scared. I didn’t know what to say. I still don’t,” you admitted, your words barely a whisper.

“Baby, you don’t have to be scared, okay? You can tell me anything.” He assured you, his hand gently squeezing yours. But the uneasy feeling in your stomach refused to go away.

“I know, but… we haven’t planned for this,” you murmured, glancing down. “It just… came out of nowhere.”

“Well, it didn’t exactly come out of nowhere. These things can happen,” he said gently, a faint smile tugging at his lips. You groaned, burying your face in his chest.

“But it wasn’t supposed to happen,” you whined, your voice muffled against him. “I didn’t expect this at all. I was drowning in work when I found out. I’m stressed, I’m lost, I don’t know what to do… and I miss my mom.” The words tumbled out in a frantic ramble, and you were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice the soft laugh he let slip.

“You miss your mom?” he asked softly, careful not to upset you further.

“Yes!” you cried, voice cracking. “I feel like a kid lost in the supermarket.”

He shook his head gently and brushed away your tears with his thumbs, pulling you closer. “Baby…” he began, his tone soothing.

“Yoongi…” you whispered, lifting your head to meet his gaze. His expression was still worried, but the warmth in his eyes was reassuring.

“You’re right, we didn’t plan this. But we’ve talked about it before, and you have options. Whatever you choose, I’ll be right here beside you, no matter what. You know that, don’t you?” He searched your eyes for confirmation, and you nodded, feeling the ache in your chest begin to ease.

As his words sank in, a new wave of emotions stirred inside you. The weight of worry and loneliness began to ease, replaced by a warmth that softened the ache in your chest.

“But… what do you think?” you asked softly. You knew that whatever you decided would ultimately be your choice only, but you needed to know what was going on in his mind.

He sighed, a hint of hesitation in his expression. “I mean… we’re not sixteen, baby. We’re adults, we’re about to buy a house together, and we love each other.”

“Well, those are just facts,” you replied, searching his face. “What I mean is… do you want this, now?”

It was hard for Yoongi to believe you were really asking this. There you were, sitting on his lap with swollen eyes and a red nose from crying, asking him if he wanted to start a family with you—as if that hadn’t been his dream all along. Of course he felt like the life he had been living was going to completely change from now on. It was terrifying, but he couldn’t help but feel excited at the same time. 

“I've always wanted it, are you serious?” He laughed, the sound light but filled with disbelief. “And I only want it with you, haven’t I made it clear enough?”

Those were the main differences between the two of you: while he was calm, always taking a moment to think before acting, you were emotional and, more often than not, let your feelings take control of your actions. It was only in that moment that you realized how irrational you’d been. There wasn’t a world where Yoongi didn’t want this, and there certainly wasn’t a world where you didn’t want it either.

“I want it, too,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you fought back tears.

“Then why are you crying, huh?” he asked gently, squeezing your face in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Because...” you said, struggling to catch your breath. “Maybe you didn’t think it was the right time... You’re on tour right now.”

He frowned, his expression softening with concern. “I won’t be on tour forever...”

“I know, but... we’re not married. What would your parents think?”

He let out a laugh, clearly unable to believe that was a real concern of yours. “You’re not seriously thinking about my parents right now, are you?”

“How could I not?” you said, raising your eyebrows. “What if they force us to marry? God, I don’t want to be one of those couples who only marry because the girl is suddenly pregnant!”

He laughed even harder, shaking his head. “Oh my god, baby, no one’s forcing us to do anything!” He grinned, clearly finding your worry amusing. “If we ever get married, it won’t be because anyone pressured me. Trust me.” He paused, happy to see that the worried expression abandoned your face. “Besides, my parents love you, you have no idea how happy they’ll be once they know. Married or not.”

“Yoongi, it can’t be that simple.” 

“But it is.”

You sighed, feeling like all the mess you’d made was for nothing—and thank God it was. You’d been so caught up in your own despair that you hadn’t realized everything in your life was falling into place for this to happen. Yoongi was right. You were about to move into a bigger home, you had your job, Yoongi had his, and you loved each other. You've always wanted it, this was the perfect moment for this to happen. Why had you been so worried? 

“You’re right, it is.” You finally admitted, letting your body rest against him. 

Yoongi laughed, gently grabbing you by your hips and laying you on the bed, kissing you softly. “You don’t have to worry, baby, not with me.”

“I know.” You breathed out, feeling like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. “But I am-… I’m so scared. How am I gonna have a baby? It sounds crazy.”

“Of course it does, it is.” He said “I’m terrified, too, but we’re together, right? Nothing bad can happen if we have each other.”

You nodded, feeling your chest unclench. “I guess you're right,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I just... needed to hear you say it.”

Yoongi smiled, leaning down to steal another kiss from you, this time deeper, longer. “I love you, baby, don’t you know that?”

You brushed your nose against his, nodding. “I love you, too, bubba.”

“C’mon, baby, stop crying.” He said, making you laugh. 

[tbyfandoms]

Birthday Blues | Austin Butler x Reader

Pairing: austin butler x f!reader

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary: noticing her struggle with the loss and memory of her brother on his birthday, austin helps and comforts y/n with the celebration of his special day (requested)

Warnings: mentions of deceased siblings, descriptions of grief

Masterlist/Request Form | Ask/Tell/Request

A/N: it’s been so long since I’ve updated and I’m so sorry for that. I’ve missed writing so much and hope this is me getting back into my groove. I started this request ages ago but just now finished it. it’s felt so weird rounding out this fic about grief after hearing the news about liam (for any of my fellow directioners) and it’s just crazy to me how so many of the feelings and instances I wrote about in this fic have been a reality lately. I hope you’re all doing well whether you’ve been affected or not, and please remember to keep those you love close and to let them know how much you love them. to the anon who requested this, I hope this fic brings you comfort, thank you so much for requesting <3

Today’s the day. The day you’ve been anxiously awaiting for a while now. Every year it’s the same, it never seems to get easier for you no matter how hard you wish it would.

It’s your brother’s birthday, and it’s been a while since you’ve gotten to celebrate with him in person. He passed away and every year on his birthday you find yourself unable to function properly. Everyone tells you it gets better with time, but you’re still waiting for that to start kicking in.

There are some days where you find yourself so overcome with grief you can’t even find the right words to describe it, and there are other days where for a little while you almost forget he’s not here anymore. You yearn for those days, those days that feel like you’re floating and there’s nothing but calmness surrounding you.

You wish his birthday was one of those tranquil days.

As you move mechanically around the kitchen, doing your normal tasks as you would any other day, you find yourself trying not to fall apart.

Grief is a really funny thing. At times you believe your mourning period has passed and that that part of you that’s now missing has been patched and you’ll be able to handle this day on your own without any consolation. Other times you don’t even know how you’re able to stand up on your own and be expected to continue on. It’s like a balancing act, never knowing which way the scale is going to tip. Calm or devastated. Good or bad.

Pouring yourself something to drink, you think back on all the happy memories with your brother that you can. You know in your heart he wouldn’t want you to be sad today, or any day really. It’s just incredibly hard to not notice his absence, especially on his special day. It’s hard when you miss him so much and want nothing more than to celebrate with him instead of without.

Over the past few days you’ve tried not to focus too much on your brother’s birthday. You’ve kept busy and continued business as usual but you can’t deny the moments of sadness that crept in unannounced. You’ve talked to other family members about it and some of your friends too, a lot of them knowing what this day means to you and how hard it can be. You always keep up a brave face but it’s easier said than done on some days compared to others.

The sound of padded footsteps coming from your right breaks you out of your thoughts. When you turn your head you’re met with the soft smile on your boyfriend’s face. It’s impossible not to reciprocate it. You don’t know a soul on this Earth that’s ever been able to withstand a smile from Austin Butler.

“Hi, baby,” he says as he wraps his arms around you, his warmth and familiar scent immediately settling over you. Your body instantly relaxes against him, comfort beginning to course through your veins.

“Hi, Aus.” It comes out almost like a whisper and you curse yourself for already showing a sign of weakness. You promised yourself last night that you’d try to get through this day on your own, not wanting to distract Austin from any of his work or typical routine. Alas it’s not turning out how you hoped. That’s the thing about grief though, no matter how hard you try, you never do know when it’s going to come creeping back in.

Busying yourself with cleaning up, you ease yourself out of Austin’s grasp. For some reason you feel that if you stay that close to him, it won’t be long before your walls start crumbling down and you’ll both end up wrapped in devastation.

To be fair, you don’t even know if your boyfriend realizes what today is. You know you’ve mentioned it in passing, but with not wanting to make a big deal out of it you never really went into detail. You’ve talked to Austin about your brother before whether it be reminiscing about childhood memories or recalling an inside joke, but you always try to keep that devastation at bay.

The blonde hasn’t said anything about it recently and with his hectic schedule lately, you’re sure it hasn’t even crossed his mind. You’re not hurt by it, if anything you understand and appreciate it. It’s probably best if you handle today alone, in your own way.

A small frown adorns the corner of your lips and you make sure to turn your head so Austin doesn’t notice it. One thing about him is that he’s always able to pick up on your emotions and can tell when something’s wrong. Best plan of action is to just proceed as you normally would. You’re sure the actor has a million and one things to do today, so he should be out the door any minute now and you’ll be able to tackle the day however your head and heart deem fit.

“Are you hungry?” You say as chipper as you can while you start to open up a cabinet, ready to whip up anything your boyfriend would like. “I can make you your favorite or if you have to leave soon I can just make you something to take on the go.”

“No, I’m okay, thank you. I-I’m not working today.” You nearly bash your head into the cabinet door as you hear this. Your boyfriend was practically always working, especially now. So him saying this totally takes you by surprise.

“Why not?” You turn around and face Austin and just based off the look on his face you can tell he remembers what day it is. His eyes are so sincere and you nearly burst into tears because he hasn’t even said anything and yet you know exactly why he isn’t working. Why he most definitely told his manager and whoever else that today specifically was off limits for any meetings or shoots.

“I took the day off. I know I haven’t brought it up lately and you probably thought I forgot, but I know what today is, what it means and how important it is to you. I just wanted to be here with you and to let you know if you need me that I’ll be right here. I won’t let you deal with today on your own, sweetheart.” His tone is soft and he reaches out to caress your cheeks, wiping a tear you hadn’t even realized slipped out in the process.

“Austin I-,” you gulp, emotion rising fast in your throat as you look into his blue eyes and feel the empathy radiating off of him. “You didn’t have to do that. I know how busy you are and I know it must’ve taken a lot to have your day cleared. Really, it’s fine if you want to go to work. I-I can handle it, I’m fine-“

Your voice cracks and in that same moment you feel like part of your heart does as well.

Austin’s hands are tangled in your hair in an instant as he pulls you in close, holding your head against his shoulder as you begin to fall apart in his arms. There it is, one of those grief stricken moments you swore you wouldn’t allow to take over you today. So much for holding it together.

Clearly your boyfriend doesn’t seem to mind though, and for that you’ll be eternally grateful. You let yourself go, let your emotions go, as he whispers affirmations in your ear. Softly shushing you and assuring you that it’s ok to let it all out. It’s almost scary how easy it is for you to do this as well. To let yourself be vulnerable like this. But honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way. If you’re going to fall apart in anyone’s arms, there’s no one better than Austin’s to do it in.

After a while of being wrapped up in the blonde’s arms and after your sobs begin to turn into soft hiccups, you feel collected enough to take a small step back and start to wipe away any remaining tears.

“I’m sorry, Aus,” you whisper, feeling a little bad for just falling apart like this. You know he doesn’t mind, he wouldn’t have taken the day off if he did, but even still.

“Hey, hey, hey, do not apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for.” Austin reaches out and swipes his thumbs underneath your eyes, collecting tears that haven’t yet fallen. “I’m here for you, and if that means being a human tissue for the day then I’m fine with that.”

A small laugh bubbles out of your throat and the sound makes Austin smile. He loves your laugh and he’d do anything to hear it, especially on a day like this.

“I hope you know how much I appreciate you. I know you’re no stranger to grief when losing a loved one, but I still appreciate you taking this in stride and just being there for me. This day it’s-it’s-,” your breath catches in your throat, but you clear it, not wanting your emotions to take over again. “It’s hard, but you certainly make it a lot less difficult to deal with and for that I’m grateful.”

“Of course, baby. I’m here for you, always. When you lose someone you love, it’s difficult enough to deal with, yet alone trying to deal with it on your own. I promise you I’ll always be here for you on this day and every other one you may need me for as long as you’ll have me.”

A small smile breaks out on your lips and you don’t know a better response than wrapping your arms around Austin and squeezing him with all the love and appreciation you can muster. You can’t even imagine a day without him. You’ll have him forever if you’re able to.

Once the two of you break apart you watch as Austin begins to say something, but then appears to hesitate. His eyes meet yours and you start to wonder what it is he wants to say to you.

“Now I don’t ever want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable, but over the past couple days I’ve been thinking about what we could do to celebrate your brother today. If you’re okay with it, I’d like to take you somewhere.” The blonde takes a breath and then reaches for your hand, squeezing once before continuing. “You trust me, right?”

You’ve never felt more sure of anything than you do right now in this moment when you say, “Yes, with my whole heart.”

Your boyfriend smiles and you feel your stomach flutter with both gratitude and anticipation for what he has planned. No matter where it is he ends up taking you, you know with one hundred percent certainty that he’s doing it because he loves you and cares for you in a way you never even thought possible. That fact alone is what carries you out of that kitchen and through the front door.

*****

When Austin pulls the car into the parking lot of the flower shop connected to the cemetery your brother is buried in, you feel your heart begin to swell.

On the drive over, you began to brainstorm ideas of where it is your boyfriend was taking you. There was a small part of you that hoped he wasn’t driving you to some restaurant or your family’s house to try and take your mind off today, but that he was taking you right to this very place. In your mind, there’s no better way to celebrate and remember your brother than celebrating with him as much as you’re physically able to.

Not a lot of people find comfort in visiting a grave in a cemetery, but it’s one of the only ways you’re able to feel some sort of closeness to your brother. He might not be visible to you, but there’s something about sitting there and just talking out loud to him that allows you to feel some semblance of peace.

“Now I know everyone feels differently when it comes to visiting graves and doing stuff like this. So if you’re at all uncomfortable being here, you just let me know and I’ll turn this car around, we’ll go right back home, and I’ll apologize for the rest of my life for ever crossing any boundaries with you.”

A breathy laughs escapes you and you shake your head as you reach out and hold Austin’s hand in yours. “No, this is perfect. I very much appreciate you even thinking of doing this. I haven’t been able to come out here in a while, especially not alone, so I’m grateful you brought me here and that you’re willing to be by my side during it.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he smiles.

Austin turns off the car and the two of you make your way inside, the smell of fresh flowers instantly hitting your nose and you breath in deeply, wanting to hold onto it. It’s crazy to think there could be something so beautiful and alive surrounded by a place so sorrowful and morbid. Somehow, you think there’s something poetic to be found in that.

Both you and Austin wander around the shop for a while, taking in all the gorgeous arrangements decorated specifically for different types of family members. You see plaques for parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, and then finally siblings. It hurts your heart to know people lose their loved ones in a blink of an eye every day. No one is safe from the horrors and unfairness of the world, but you wish with everything you’ve got that they were.

You wish nearly every day that your brother had been.

As you walk further down the aisle, you find yourself getting stopped by a bouquet. It stands out from the others, it’s almost as if the colors and arrangement of it were calling out to you. One look at it and you know instantly it’s the one you’d like to get for your brother.

“Aus, this one’s perfect,” you say softly, stopping your boyfriend in his tracks. He looks over at it and smiles fondly. He thinks it’s perfect almost as much as you do.

Austin instantly grabs it and the two of you walk over to the checkout counter. You reach into your purse so you can grab your wallet, but the actor holds his hand out and shakes his head. “Let me, for his birthday.”

Tears immediately spring to your eyes at the sentiment and all you’re able to do in response is nod your head slightly and give Austin a wobbly smile. You don’t know why you’re so surprised over all of this. This is who Austin is, it’s who he always has been, and it’s who he always will be.

*****

The gravel road that winds every which way through the cemetery causes the car to shake just slightly as Austin follows your instructions to get to your brother’s grave. You’re not entirely convinced that’s the sole reason your stomach starts to knot though.

Even though it’s been a while since you’ve visited this place, the moment Austin pulled up to the gates it was like you were here just yesterday. The landmarks are all too familiar, the shapes of other people’s headstones, and the view of other grieving families scattered around bring everything back instantly.

As you look around and tell Austin to pull over to the right up ahead, you start to feel a little lightheaded. In your mind you can see the day you buried your brother so vividly. You can hear the sniffles of family and friends and feel the slight breeze in the air as he was lowered into the ground.

Even though you appreciate being able to still somewhat spend time with your brother here, it does make it all seem so much more real. When you don’t come and visit, sometimes you’re able to pretend that he’s still here, still alive. But the minute you see that headstone, you’re reminded that he’s not, and it gets harder to shake the sadness.

Austin puts the car in park and you both sit in silence for a moment. He watches you look out the window, knowing all too well the emotions running through you right now. He gives you a minute more before speaking up.

“Do you want me to wait in the car or is it okay to come with you?” His deep voice breaks you out of your thoughts and you blink several times before looking over at him.

“No, come with me, please? I-I want you there.” Austin nods his head and exits the car, coming over to the passenger side and helping you out of the car as you hold onto your brother’s bouquet.

Grass crunches under your shoes as you walk the few feet to your brother’s grave, and a soft gasp passes through your lips as you come face to face with the headstone that’s seared itself into your mind forever.

Kneeling down, you brush off the small bits of leaves and grass that’ve taken residence on the light gray stone. Your fingers trace over the letters imprinted within it and with each passing letter you feel your heart squeeze inside your chest.

It’s so unfair how life can change so drastically in an instant. You remember the last conversation you had with your brother and you wish you would’ve known that would be the last time you spoke to him. You would’ve said more, would’ve memorized more about his voice and the way he laughed. You would’ve held on to anything and everything you could if it meant keeping even one more tiny thing of him close to you.

Lifting up the bouquet in front of you, you make sure everything in it looks perfect before placing it by the headstone and then standing back up by your boyfriend. The flowers look beautiful and you hate that you can’t physically give them to your brother on his special day. You just hope he’s somewhere looking down at you and seeing how loved he still is. How he’ll always be celebrated.

Suddenly, you feel Austin softly place his hand on your lower back and begin to rub circles on it. This is something he often does when he can tell you’re sad or getting overwhelmed and just need some sort of comfort. It always helps calm you down and you appreciate Austin doing it in this moment.

Austin truly cares so much for you and it blows your mind every single day how lucky you are to have someone like him in your life. Everything from the grand gestures to the smallest little things he does for you, you find yourself being so grateful for it all. He’s such a wonderful guy and you smile thinking about how well he would’ve gotten along with your brother.

You know instantly your brother would’ve adored him. He’d definitely try to play the protective brother card and give off the impression he’d never approve, but in your heart you know Austin would’ve had him wrapped around his finger, much like how he has you. You could see them hanging out and watching sports together, talking about music and films, and overall finding such a genuine friendship within each other.

The thought brings a smile to your face and you let out a small laugh thinking about all the chaos they’d get up to together.

Austin notices and his own curious smile adorns his lips as he wonders what you could possibly be thinking about. “What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?”

“I know you never got to meet him,” you start, a small tear trailing down your cheek as you take your eyes off the headstone in front of you and look towards your boyfriend. “But he’d really like you.”

A small puff of air leaves Austin as he takes in your words. In an instant he has you wrapped in his arms and his lips pressed against your forehead. “Oh, baby. I wish with all my heart I could’ve met him.”

You nod your head silently against him, knowing with everything you’ve got that he genuinely means it.

“Thank you for bringing me here, Aus,” you whisper, your words a soft rumble against the blonde’s chest. “You have no idea how much this means to me. I appreciate it so much.”

“You don’t have to thank me, but you’re welcome. I’d do practically anything for you—especially this—and especially today.”

You know Austin’s unfortunately no stranger to grief. He knows the pain of losing a loved one just as much as you do and you think it’s so kind of him to do all of this with you when you know it probably puts him back in his own memories of loss. The thought alone makes you squeeze him a little harder and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. “I love you, Austin.”

“I love you too,” he smiles. “Y’know if you wanna do this every year for your brother’s birthday, we definitely can. If you want to, that is. I know it’ll never change the fact he’s no longer with us, but maybe celebrating him like this and coming to leave some flowers at his grave every year can help you feel a little bit closer to him in a way.”

“Yeah, I’d really love that. I think he would too.” You smile up at your boyfriend and take in his thoughtful proposition. You’d love to come visit your brother’s grave like this for his birthday every year. Like Austin said, it’ll never change the fact he’s not here with you anymore, but at least it gives you something to hold onto. It gives you something to keep your brother just a little bit closer to you, and you’d do anything to make that happen.

“It’s a deal then,” Austin says before leaning down and kissing you on the forehead. After pulling away he crouches down and plants himself on the grass. “C’mon, no more birthday blues. Let’s sit for a while. I’d love for you to tell me more about your brother.”

Your heart soars at his interest. Most people would want to flee this situation. Get as far away from a place like this and ignore the fact someone’s passed on completely. Not Austin. He faces it head first. He knows it’s hard, but he also knows it can be healing to do and it can mean a lot to someone too. He can tell by the look on your face he’s made the right call, and he’s grateful he’s able to be here for you in whatever way you need him.

“Well, where do I begin?” You wonder as you sit down next to the blonde. You rack your brain and try to decide on what story or fun fact you should share first. God knows you have an endless supply of them tucked away in your memory. Some funny, some sad, and some downright disturbing in the best way possible.

You glance over at Austin, settling on one and as you go to start sharing one of your favorite memories of your brother, you watch as your boyfriend completely tunes in to whatever it is you’re about to say. Nothing else seems to matter in this moment to him and that alone makes you want to wrap your arms around him and never let go.

Yeah, you think in your head, in a way speaking to your brother. You definitely would’ve liked him.

[jasontoddiefor]

every once in a while I think back to a fanfic I read in 2015. in retrospect, it wasn’t all that well written, but it was penned by teenagers in love with their story and the story loved me back.

They main character was trans and a central theme of the story was the length of his hair. I read the first chapter the day it was published, almost certainly searching through the trans character tag. It was October, another two months to the date I would cut my hair - the day before Christmas, I walked out of the hair salon as though I’d already received all the gifts I could possibly want.

I loved my short hair, the buzz at my neck, running my fingers through short strands and have the hair fall from them after lifting them just a few centimeters.

Three years later, I decided to grow my hair out again. For my family, mostly, I think now, as a test, to me and to them.

My aunt said it felt like spite, dangling my hair in front of them, threatening to cut it off again as though to punish them.

I did cut it off again.

I think I failed my own test. I know my family did.

For the first time in nine years my hair has grown past my shoulders, that imaginary line by which I measured someone’s love. My own, probably.

Fourteen years ago I cut my hair for the first time in my life. It used to reach down to my knees, and tangled at every opportunity. I remember being so exhausted, long before I realized what was actually weighing me down.

I miss that little girl sometimes. I hope she forgives me.

But this post is not about her, not yet. Maybe not ever. She’s asleep in her Playmobil castle and princess bed and I don’t know how to wake her yet.

This is about a story posted in 2015. The last time it was updated was 2017, it was never finished.

I don’t ever need it to be finished. All I need is for it to remain there, with its title, the reminder of don’t let your hair past your shoulders, and the comment I wrote in 2015. I hope this story knows I love it still, and that somewhere, sometime, another boy learns that it’s okay. That your hair can grow again. That you do not need to hate it.

The authors of that story have vanished, I can’t find any of them anywhere, but I hope that my last comment, left now nearly a decade later, has reached them. That they know how grateful I was for giving me something to hold on when I need it, for allowing me to be seen when I couldn’t stand looking in the mirror.

That even now, so may years later, looking back at their writing with - perhaps - embarrassment for leaving it unfinished like that, having written the kind of stories only high schoolers would, they will know it means the world to someone.

[gxr25256]

Strange Disappearances - Miniformers

🌵 I think it would be funny to shrink the building-sized robots down to tiny 🤏.

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

The day started like any other. You had woken up to the sound of your alarm ringing, groggily dragging yourself out of bed, and beginning your usual routine. Coffee, breakfast, checking your phone for messages, and then heading out to work. But as the day wore on, you started noticing something strange.

It started as an oddity. Little things slipping out of sight, then returning in strange places. A misplaced book, a set of keys, a coffee mug—each one simply vanishing and then showing up somewhere else, seemingly of its own accord. At first, you brushed it off. After all, with so much going on in your life, who wouldn’t forget where they left something every now and then?

The first incident was so minor you hadn’t thought twice. You’d placed your favorite mug, a cracked and chipped relic from an old trip to the beach, on the kitchen counter while you prepared breakfast. When you turned back to grab it, it was gone. You had left it there, hadn't you? The last sip of coffee still lingered on your mind as you recalled its familiar weight in your hand just hours ago.

You retraced your steps. The kitchen was spotless, the table cleared of any debris, and the dishes put away. Your mug was nowhere to be found. You checked the dishwasher, just in case you'd put it there absentmindedly. Empty. The cabinets? Just the usual clutter, nothing unusual. You thought about the last time you'd seen it. Maybe it had fallen behind the counter? Thinking nothing of it, you figured maybe you’d knocked it off the counter and hadn’t noticed. But when you checked the floor and couldn’t find it, you assumed you were just being scatterbrained. You grabbed a different mug and carried on.

That was until you found it again.

You’d been in the living room, idly flipping through a book, when you spotted your mug sitting on the armrest of your couch. Your heart skipped a beat. How on Earth had it gotten there? You didn’t remember moving it, and no one else had been home. There was no explanation, yet there it was, almost as if waiting for you.

You paused, examining the mug for a moment, then shook your head. Maybe you were just too tired. The last few days had been hectic, and you had barely managed to keep everything together. You shrugged it off, returning to your book.

Later that evening, you tried to put the mug out of your mind. You cleaned up, finished your dinner, and plopped down on the couch to watch TV. But as you reached for the remote, you stopped short.

Your phone was on the coffee table, but it wasn’t in the spot you had left it. Instead, it was pushed to the edge of the table, almost as if someone—or something—had moved it. You frowned, feeling a prickle of unease. You hadn’t touched your phone since you left it there after dinner.

You reached for it, trying to shake off the odd feeling. Maybe you had bumped it earlier while you were cleaning up. It was certainly possible. But the growing sense that something was...off, wouldn't leave you.

The strange occurrences didn’t stop there. The following morning, you noticed the remote had disappeared. You checked under the couch cushions, behind the coffee table, and even in the kitchen, convinced that maybe, just maybe, you had left it somewhere else. But no—nothing.

The house was still quiet, yet you couldn’t shake the nagging sensation that you weren’t truly alone. It was like there was something lurking just out of sight.

"Okay, this is getting ridiculous," you muttered to yourself.

You'd never been one to believe in supernatural explanations, but this felt different. It was like someone—or something—was hiding in plain sight, playing tricks on you.

Over the next few days, the pattern continued. Your missing mug reappeared on the top shelf of the kitchen cabinet, placed in a spot that was just out of reach for you. The remote had found its way under the couch, nestled between the cushions as if it had been carefully tucked away. But the weirdest part? There was no explanation for any of it. No sign of a break-in, no intruder. Everything seemed perfectly normal, yet the things that were disappearing were growing more difficult to ignore.

But even then, you didn’t fully grasp the implications. It seemed odd, yes, but it didn’t feel dangerous. More like an eccentric quirk of the universe.

That night, as you lay in bed, the confusion lingered, swirling in your thoughts like an unanswered question. Your mind replayed the strange occurrences—the missing items, the odd placement of things, the faint sounds you couldn’t quite explain. Despite the unease prickling your skin, you didn’t feel outright fear. Instead, there was a growing curiosity, an inexplicable sense that something—or someone—was in the house with you. The room was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the house settling, but a presence seemed to linger, just out of sight, watching, waiting.

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

[candycandy00]

Teaser for Once Upon a Time - Choso x Reader (as Rapunzel):

Just a little teaser for the first chapter! I expect to have the full chapter up in a few days!

**********

You bend down to pick some of the herbs you just found, carefully placing them in your basket. These will be perfect for several different medicines you make for the other villagers. You can’t believe what a treasure trove you’ve found. How have you never seen this place before?

The basket is feeling heavy on your arm by the time you finish, but you’re so happy with what you’ve gathered that you don’t mind the extra weight. You pick one last handful and turn to head back through the woods and to the village.

That’s when you see him. A pale man dressed in black, dark hair pulled into strange ponytails on each side of his head. He’s standing directly in your path.

“Why are you in my garden?” he asks. His tone is curious, not accusatory.

You freeze in place. This is a garden? And it belongs to him? You dip your head in a slight bow. “I’m very sorry, sir. I didn’t realize this was your garden. I picked a lot of your herbs,” you say, holding out your basket. “Would you like to keep them?”

He stares into your basket, then at your face. “What do you want herbs for?”

“I make medicines,” you tell him. “Tonics, ointments, all sorts of things.”

He’s silent for a moment, then asks, “Could you make some for me?”

“Of course,” you say, happy that he’s apparently going to let your accidental theft slide. “What kinds do you need?”

“Something for scrapes and cuts. I have three little brothers and they’re always getting hurt while playing in the woods.”

You smile. “Alright. I’ll make some and bring them back to you, as a thank you for the herbs.” You glance around the forest. “Where is your house?”

He hesitates for a few seconds, as if reluctant to reveal where he lives. You’re just about to offer to meet him here in a few days when he turns and begins walking through the woods. “Follow me. I’ll show you.”

You tag along behind him, waiting for a house to come into view. You really didn’t know anyone lived out here. But instead of a house, he leads you to a clearing with an enormous tower standing in the middle of it.

“You live here?” you ask, using your hand to block the sun as you squint upwards, trying to see how high it goes.

It’s made of stone, gray in color except for a deep red door and matching red shudders all the way up at the top. A window? But why so high? The grass around the tower is thick and unkempt, wild rose bushes climbing the sides, going at least thirty feet up. Red and white roses are blooming beautifully, making the tower look like something from a dream.

When you step closer, you notice there are black roses blooming here and there. What an unusual color!

The man opens the red door, made of heavy wood, and motions for you to come inside.

You follow in behind him, finding a living area with chairs, a fireplace, a rug, and a desk. Off to the side is a cozy little kitchen with a stove and a small table with four chairs crowded around it.

“Do you live here by yourself?” you ask, looking around.

He looks at you with a slightly confused expression. “No, I have three little brothers, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right! I’m sorry, I forgot.”

But the tower doesn’t look like three kids live in it. Things are too neat and orderly, and there’s only one place setting on the table. Maybe they’re just very well behaved.

He notices you glancing around and says, “They’re out gathering wood for the fire right now. They’ll be home soon.”

You nod, then look straight up. “What’s up there?”

He follows your line of sight, tilting his head up. “A couple of bedrooms shared between us,” he answers. “This used to be a watch tower during the war. My brothers and I found it abandoned a few years ago and moved in.”

“That was fortunate,” you say. “I bet they love playing in this tower.”

He smiles, the expression lighting up the room. He has a really nice smile. “Yes, they love it here.”

You smile back, then start toward the door. “I’ll make some medicines for you and come back in three days. Is that alright?”

“Yes, that would be wonderful. Thank you.”

As you step outside, you turn back to wave goodbye to him. He waves back, and you leave. Walking back through the woods, you half expect to run into his little brothers, laughing and playing. But you never see another soul until you reach the village.

[chaifootsteps]

view count update as of today: 8 days ago, 7.3M views

it's really crawling it's way towards 10M, I don't know if they're going to break it before the next episode drops at this rate

it's been out longer but both prior episodes got around 14M views. If it doesn't climb much higher that's a drop by half

do you think the crew is getting worried at this point? I know animation takes a long time but they have to fund this somehow, unless Viv just outsources everything to the cheapest place possible to make this limp over the finish line

I'm honestly wondering what the corporate structure of Spindle even is any more. just a rotating door of animators around the central favored few? if Hazbin is animated by Bento and now this Italian studio and Helluva is part outsourced to TC, then saying it was made 'by Spindlehorse' is really misleading imo

Calling it now, she'll outsource it. If she has to, and she very well may, she'll fire every last animator and outsource them all, then run to Twitter to lie.

[sloanesallow]

twenty

Sebastian is forgetting something.... (I wrote this in one go, mostly because I forgot at the last moment that I head-canon Sebastian's birthday as being today (ish, it's now past midnight), November 8th. Yes, I made him a triple Scorpio. He's more fun that way.) Sebastian Sallow x F!MC (Siobhan Sloane) Tags: Sappy. A crumb of sadness. >1k words [Ao3] | [Wattpad] | [Tumblr Masterlist]

Sebastian is still working at his makeshift desk on Level Two when the clock strikes midnight. He pays the chiming bells little attention, scribbling away with his quill to finish the stack of reports his goblin supervisors at Gringots want handed over in the morning. Not so long ago, he would scoff at the suggestion of having a goblin as a boss, but Sebastian has come a long way since fifth year and knows how privileged he is to have the position he does. There are still eight more long months left in his internship, but by next summer, he will be a fully-trained curse breaker, ready for a proper field assignment.

He's mid quill-stroke when his ears prick up at the sound of shuffling in the nearby corridor. It's too late for it to be another Ministry employee, and Bigsby the elf has already made his cleaning rounds for the evening. Sebastian furrows his brows, listening as he hears the mystery person knock on the other doors in the hall. Too curious to ignore, he strides over to poke his head out, but when he opens the door he's surprised to see Sloane.

"Girlfriend?" he chirps in surprise, the first word that bounces through his brain and out his mouth.

Sloane suppresses a giggle, her lips curling up in a small smile as she nods. Sebastian steps aside, allowing her to enter the disorganized storage closet the Aurors have repurposed for him to use as an office. He stares at her, blinking several times in disbelief, wondering if he's slipped into some kind of sleep-deprived hallucination.

"What're you doing here?" he asks, grasping her hand and breathing a sigh of relief at the warmth he feels. "Why aren't you in Marseille?"

"Hello to you too, Sebastian," she quips, squeezing his hand as she laces their fingers. "I wanted to surprise you, but you weren't home. Ominis suggested you'd be here, says you're always here."

"Not always," he retorts, eyes still darting across her face and body to identify any subtle changes since he saw her last. It's been one month and thirteen days, and Sloane knows he's been counting. Her hair is a fraction longer, tied in a loose braid that he itches to undo with his fingers.

"It's midnight," she says back and he sheepishly grins. Sloane looks at him pointedly in the way that tells him there's something else, but his mind draws a blank.

"What?"

"Really?"

"Really...what?"

Sloane frowns and Sebastian feels his heart flutter with panic. Lack of sleep is all fun and games until it causes memory loss. He scratches the stubble on his jaw, struggling to recall if he's done anything foolish (more foolish than usual), or forgotten something important. Their anniversary isn't for another few months...unless he's slipped into an errant time experiment from Level Nine.

"Have you truly forgotten?" His girlfriend decides to put him out of his misery, replacing his hand with her own as she cups the side of his face, thumb sweeping across his cheek. "Sebastian, it's your birthday."

He straightens in alarm, eyes wide in realization. Midnight. Wednesday, the eighth of November. His birthday. More significantly, his twentieth birthday. A nice, round number—the true start of adulthood. Sebastian gulps, and wonders if the knot in his stomach is existential dread.

His thoughts drift, and he can't help but feel guilty for not remembering—it isn't just his birthday. Perhaps that's why it's slipped his mind; there's not much of a reason to celebrate getting older when he's still estranged from his twin. It's been years since he saw her last, and even longer since they welcomed a birthday together. The ache in his chest lingers, even as Sloane presses up on her toes to press a soft kiss to his lips.

"I didn't want you to be alone, not today," she whispers, looping her arms around his shoulders when he moves to encircle her in a tight embrace. Sloane may be the only person, besides Ominis, who knows and understands the specific kind of pain this day might bring.

"I'm sorry," she adds and he quietly hushes her, stopping her apology short. It might've been nice to remain blissfully ignorant, but eventually, he'd remember and feel even worse about forgetting later on. For a long moment, he just holds her, thinking for what must be the millionth time about how damn lucky he is to have Sloane in his life, how wonderful it is to love and be loved in return.

"You're here," he breathes, kissing her temple, and then her forehead and nose before smiling against her lips. "I'm so happy you're here."

"Me too."

"For how long?" he murmurs between little kisses, savoring the sensation, knowing he'll miss it when she has to leave again. Stupid Marseille, he thinks, there are plants in England, too. "Do we have time to—"

Sebastian's stomach interrupts his suggestion with a loud gurgle that makes Sloane snicker, her nose crinkling in the way he adores. She playfully scolds him, fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. "When's the last time you ate?"

"Uhh..." he shrugs and steals another peck. "Kisses will suffice."

"Sebastian!" she laughs, not bothering to squirm away. "You need to eat!"

"I agree!" he scoops her up, waggling his eyebrows before latching onto to patch of skin on her neck that makes her mewl. "I'll start with you."

[crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf]

"I want you there ..."

Tech Grief Ficlette

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Warnings: Sad, Grief.

Summary: A grown up Omega has some news for an old friend.

WC: 661 Read on Ao3

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Omega’s boots crunched along the gravel of the familiar path. It had been a while since she had trekked back to Pabu, now the sea breeze danced about her, caressing her cheeks like a welcome from an old friend. 

Her portfolio case swung from one hand, the familiar broken goggles from the other. She was almost never seen without them. Today though, she was heading to a special place on Pabu… the place she came to talk while she finished growing up. Talk to him. 

The cliff line finally broke, giving her a gorgeous view of the sunset. Brilliant orange, just like the amber glass in her hand. She sat at the rocks edge, opened her portfolio and with a sigh, slipped on the goggles. 

She hit record. 

“Hey, Tech… it's been a while, I wanted to update you on what I've been up to…”

It had been forever since she talked to him like this, panic and dread had set in one day when she realized the internal data storage was running low. She didn't want it to loop and record over anything but today was worth talking to him… formally. 

She pulled out the first etching, a dark umbra alive with bonfires and crude little drawings of people. 

“I've been doing well with the rebellion, we won an important skirmish a few months ago, Partied after harder than Hunter says you guys did… but I guess he might have down played what you boys got up to…”

She trailed off, stroking the figures around the little fire, just to have her hand come away black with sooty medium. She furrowed her brow, and wiped her fingers on her pants before drawing out another sketch. 

“This… well, I was trying to design a call mark for the hull of the marauder… nothing really worked out,”

There were over a dozen half finished figures with exs through them, and scattered notes. It wasn't what she was really after. She looked more carefully through her etchings, finally pulling out one of a full body figure. Their back was on full display and every detail and shadow had been filled in lovingly. 

…

“I'm getting married soon… it's gonna be here, on Pabu. I met them out there and well, life is short on the battlefield… you know that more than any so…”

A lump was starting to form in her throat but she swallowed the old pain gracefully, continuing. 

“I'm planning on wearing your goggles… so you can come to, I just wanted to give you a heads up before… before you were just, walking me down the aisle… I hope that's okay,”

It was nonsense, but it always felt like putting his goggles on and pressing record… it was like Tech could open his eyes again for a brief moment. 

“I was always gonna wear them anyways… Hunter insists he should be the one to walk me, but Wrecker said it was unfair and I think it upset Crosshair too… they're taking turns now. Hunter starts, Wrecker in the middle and Cross'll finish it… but you'll be with me the whole time… I want you there…”

She stopped the recording and whipped the goggles off, squeezing her eyes as a few hot tears grazed her cheeks. It had been a long time since she last cried for Tech, but the heightened stress of the past few weeks left her vulnerable to the old wounds. 

I'm sorry, I shouldn't have insisted we go, it's my fault…

She caught the thoughts there, releasing them with a shaky sigh as the cycles of grief lit through her for the life that should have been. Thoughts she'd never be rid of even though she knew they weren't true, almost a comfort that she could still feel his absence so greatly… that she never forgot. 

Catching her breath, she checked the remaining storage. Only a few hours left… 

I hope this is okay … I want you there. 

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

[lovegalor333]

fresh start

part nine (chapter 25) previous part • my masterlist

word count: 2.8k

content warnings: none!

Lily

Paige and the team left early yesterday morning for their game at Minnesota today. Travelling for game days, unfortunately, wasn't part of my job so Kayla, Madison, Hannah, Kelsey and I were all lounging on the couch, each tucked under a blanket, excitedly waiting for tip off.

After agreeing to go home with Paige for Thanksgiving, it was decided that I would travel there after classes finished tomorrow and Paige would pick me up from the airport. After Thanksgiving, Paige had to fly directly to the Cayman Islands for a tournament so I'd be flying back to campus alone.

Now the season had started, I had to get used to Paige being away more often, I didn't like it but it was inevitable and it just means that the time we do spend together is even more special.

"Are you all packed for Minnesota, Lils?" Madison asks me from her place at the end of the couch.

"Pretty much, just need to add the last few bits but I'll do that before I leave in the morning." I tell my roommate.

"I can't believe you're going home with your girlfriend for Thanksgiving break! Who would have thought it?" Kelsey says from beside me, leaning her head on my shoulder, "Single Sisters was extremely short lived." She laughs referring to the pact we made when we first met.

"I know! It feels weird but also right at the same time." I say thinking about my relationship with Paige and how it was never my intention to have a girlfriend again so soon but life and love works in mysterious ways and I'm so glad it worked out like this.

The conversation faded out as the game between UConn and Minnesota started and all of our attention was fully focused on the TV as familiar faces in white jerseys moved about the court.

Kayla had kindly offered to drive me to the airport to catch my flight and we had just arrived.

"Thank you for dropping me, K." I say as she pulls into departures parking.

"No worries, have a safe flight and enjoy Minnesota." She smiles her signature smile and I hug her over the console before getting out of the car.

After leaving Kayla, I immediately put my headphones on and shuffle my playlist. Controversially, I really like airports. I would always arrive earlier than necessary to ensure I didn't need to rush. I enjoyed picking out snacks for the journey and most of all, I loved knowing that I could be in my own world, listening to music, staring out of the window for the entirety of the upcoming flight.

After passing through security and buying my favourite snacks, Jolly Ranchers and Gold Fish, I just sat and patiently waited at my gate for boarding to begin.

hi pretty girl

have a safe flight, cant wait to see you

love you

hi p

boarding is just about to start

ive missed you so much

see you soon, i love you

I smiled at the text conversation between Paige and me. I felt extremely grateful for how my life had done a complete one eighty spin from a few months ago. I was happy, I had a beautiful girlfriend who loved me without reservations, I had genuine friends that supported me, I had a job that I adored and I wanted to be alive and stay alive. If I could go back at tell past Lily that, I know for a fact, she'd call bullshit.

The flight was quick, less than three hours and once we were up in the air it felt like we began our descent almost immediately.

I had collected my luggage, it wasn't big as I was only here for a few days, and was making my way through arrivals where Paige said she would be waiting.

"Oh my god." I say under my breath as Paige finally comes into view. She's stood a few feet away from me, looking as beautiful as ever. Her hair is down, tucked behind both ears and from the slight wave in it, I can tell it's been recently washed and left to dry naturally. She's dressed casually, in a grey tracksuit and Air Max 95s but it's the huge bouquet of flowers in her hand that has my jaw on the floor.

It takes a moment for Paige to register that I'm walking towards her but when she does, her face breaks out into a big grin and she takes the few strides needed to close the gap between us.

"Hi babe." I say melting into my girlfriends hug, taking in her scent that I've been deprived of the last few days.

"Hi my pretty girl. How was the flight?" Paige asks with me still in her arms.

"Super quick but I'm tired." I respond. Admittedly I'd not slept well the past few days, sleeping alone, without Paige wasn't something I was used to, so her being gone definitely felt foreign.

"You can sleep in the car. Oh and these are for you, obviously." She says handing me the bunch of flowers. They were a mix of pink and white dahlias with the odd stem of leaves, they were beautiful.

One thing about Paige, she was the best flower giver. She knew the perfect time to get them and every bouquet I've received from her and has been filled with the most pretty flowers.

Paige took my bags and I carried the flowers as I followed her to her car. She opened the passenger door for me before loading my bags into her trunk. I reached into the back seats and carefully placed my flowers down.

"Here." Paige said getting into the driver's seat handing me a blanket. Her blanket. Her favourite blanket that she slept with every night in Connecticut.

"Thank you." I say covering myself over and resting my head on the window. The blanket smelt like Paige and even though she wasn't, it felt like she was hugging me, it was comforting.

One of Paiges hands rests on my leg as the other steered the car as we began driving to her family home. My eyes fluttered shut, feeling safe and content and most of all loved beyond belief.

Paige

Having Lily here in the house I grew up in felt natural as soon as we stepped inside. My heart warmed watching her interact with my family, especially Drew.

They were currently stood side by side at the kitchen counter, sleeves rolled up to their elbows as they took it in turns pouring in various ingredients and mixing together the cake batter.

I kept my distance and just observed as the two most important people in my life bonded and got to know each other.

"Paigey actually ruined Thanksgiving last year." My little brother tells Lily and she laughs.

"Really? What did she do?"

"She said she was going to make the best cake ever and nobody was allowed to help and I didn't eat any candy all day because she said her cake was so good." Drew reminisced on last year, "And then we tried it and it was actually the worse cake ever! I had to spit it in the trash."

"Hey, it's not my fault I confused the sugar with salt." I interject, poking my brother in the side causing him to giggle and in turn fling his arms up to protect himself,  but as he does a dollop of cake batter flies off the spoon and lands on Lilys face.

Once Drew realises what he's done he quickly apologises to Lily but I can't hold back my laughter.

"It's OK Drew, no harm done." Lily says with a sweet smile but when her eyes flick to me, she's glaring intensely. "Funny, Bueckers?" She asks raising her brows.

"Just a bit, yeah." I say still giggling.

"Oh OK, so you won't mind if I just," she dips her hand into the batter mixture and before I can register what she's about to do, she smears it across my cheek, "do that."

As quick as my giggles stop, Lilys and Drews start and I'm too busy focused on Lily to notice Drew also dipping his hand into the mixture before wiping in down my arm.

"Oh I get it. It's two against one." I say slightly offended my own brother would choose Lily over me but at the same time loving it because them having a good relationship means a whole lot to me.

"Drew, I think we should run." Lily says being able to read my facial expression perfectly and both of them set off running away from me but I grab the full bowl and go after them.

"I'm literally an athlete, I'm going to catch you guys." I say as I follow them.

Drew is running at full speed whilst screaming and dodging pieces of furniture so he doesn't trip and Lily isn't far behind him, also dodging furniture but laughing so much it's slowing her down.

I change my tatic and go back on myself knowing that Drew and Lily will walk or...run into me and I'm right.

"Ha! Got you!" I triumph as Drew unknowingly runs right into my path and I scoop him up with one swift movement and with my hand already covered in cake mix, I swipe it across his face.

"Lily, save me!" Drew shouts in my arms and he kicks and wriggles his body trying to get me to release him.

Lily's by our side seconds later, "Don't worry, I've got you!" She reassures and lunges for the bowl picking up the spoon and flicking it in my direction, sending mixture straight into my face.

"OK that's it!" I say adjusting Drew so he's over my shoulder and I run full speed at Lily.

She lets out a screech but she can't move fast enough so I manage to hook my free arm around her waist, "Now everyone say Paige is the best." I say gripping onto both of them.

"Paige is the best." They both mummble knowing they've been beaten.

"And Paige always wins, she never loses." I try my luck.

"OK, that's pushing it P." Lily says and she manages to wriggle out of my grasp so I place Drew down too.

"Truce?" Lily asks out stretching her hand, "Truce." I reply shaking her hand and then my brothers.

We salvage what's left of the cake batter and pour it into a tin before it goes into the oven to bake.

"OK, go clean yourself up buddy." I say to Drew and point him in the direction of the bathroom before Lily and I start to tidy the kitchen.

"He really likes you, you know?" I say to Lily as she washes dishes at the sink and I wipe down the surfaces.

"I love him." Lily says and my heart bursts, "Being an only child, I feel like I missed out on something. I wish I had siblings to have these moments with."

"You can have these moments with us. My family is your family, Lils." I say going over and standing behind her, I wrap my arms around her waist and rest my head on her shoulder, "Thank you, P. I love you." She says spinning around so we're face to face.

“I love you." I lean in and press a kiss to her lips, "Although, you're slightly sticky." I say as I pull away.

I pick up a cloth, "Come here." I motion for Lily to come over to the kitchen island, she does and I lift her up onto the counter.

I gently wipe away any left over batter residue on Lilys face and from my place inbetween her legs, I'm taken back to the night in my bathroom after the frat party.

I think about how much Lily and I have been through since then and how much my love for her has grown and I can only hope it continues that way.

"What are you thinking about beautiful?" Lily asks cupping my face with her hands.

"You. Me. Us. How much I love you and want you in my life forever."

"You've got me Paige. In everyway." She says pulling me closer and crashing her lips to mine. My hands instinctively rest on her thighs and slowly make their way up to her waist. I feel her groan into my mouth at my touch so I deepen the kiss, making it needier, sloppier. Lily's legs are around my waist and her hands are in my hair and it's a feeling I want to bottle and save for later because I know my little brother will be back in the room at any moment.

I reluctantly pull away, "Drew will be back any second." I say and right on cue the boy walks back into the kitchen.

He looks at Lily and me and the way we're positioned, Lily still perched on the counter top and me inbetween her legs, hands on her thighs and his head tilts to one side and I know he's about to say something.

"Paigey, are you going to marry Lily and have babies?" He asks full of innocence but Lily and I almost choke.

"We're still really young right now buddy." I try and answer as diplomatically as possible.

"What about when you're bigger, like mom and dad?" He continues to push the topic.

"Well, don't tell anyone," Drew nods rapidly in agreement as I speak, "but if Lily will have me, I'll happily put a ring on it and make her a mommy." I say cheekily squeezing Lilys thigh, earning a shove from her.

"Your sister is one of a kind, you know that Drew?" Lily ask jumping off the counter.

"Uh huh." Drew agrees and I smile as we all make our way into the living room to inevitably watch another cheesy holiday movie.

Lily

Paiges dad and stepmom had filled the table with the most delicious looking and smelling food I'd even seen. Thanksgiving dinner was not like this back home in Boston, in fact if my mom could avoid cooking all together, she would. I spent a lot of Thanksgivings at Emmas house and Christmases too, as a family we weren't very festive but the Bueckers were the complete opposite.

Paige was sat inbetween Drew and me with their parents opposite us, we each had a small glass of wine - Drew excluded and Paiges dad, Bob raised his glass, "It's tradition that we say something we're thankful for before dinner. Lily, as our guest, would you like to start?"

I look to Paige, slightly put on the spot but I don't know why because I know what I'm thankful for. It's easy, I don't even need to think about it. Paige sends me a small smile and a quick nod and I pick up my glass, "I'm thankful for my life right now and everyone in it. A few months ago things were very different and it was hard for me to see an end to that but going to Connecticut, changed everything. It saved my life. I wanted a fresh start and I got that. I'm thankful for all of the beautiful friends I've made, I'm thankful for the opportunities I get everyday to learn and grow and I'm especially thankful to be sat here. I'm thankful for being welcomed in your family and home as if I've always been a part of it. It truly means the world to me."

Under the table, Paiges hand squeezes my thigh in support and she leans over pressing a kiss to my cheek.

"I think that deserves a toast," Paiges stepmom says and everyone raises their glass of wine, even Drew picks up his juice, "to Lilys fresh start. May she continue to grow and blossom."

We all clink our glasses together and I have to fight back tears.

"And let it be known," Bob says, "anyone who makes my daughter as happy as you is always welcome in this family."

˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ ࣪ ౨ৎ˚₊✧˚ · .

[mycupofrum]

In the middle

Pairings: James/Sirius, James/Sirius/Lily

Rating: Explicit

Summary: No one ever told him what it was like to meet your best friend three days after he joined you and your wife in bed.

No one ever spilled the beans about the internal crisis he'd be experiencing later.

A threesome that changed everything for them. Now James and Sirius will have to deal with the tension that arose from that night.

A/N: For @narcissa-black-supermacy who gave me this idea a while ago. This is what I came up with. :D It's mostly Prongsfoot with some Jilypad flavour. Very smutty smut. Hope you enjoy it!

Snippet under the cut.

The refrigerator hums in the corner of the kitchen as James escapes from the awkward moment he just had with Sirius in the living room.

Or, when Lily said, "I think you two should talk," before abruptly Flooing away with a roar of green flame to catch up with Mary in the Leaky Cauldron. Leaving them alone. Staring at one another. Aware of each other in a new way.

All Sirius had to do was raise his brow, a gesture he's honed to perfection over the years they've known each other.

This time it suggested what now?

James couldn’t stand it.

No one ever told him what it was like to meet your best friend three days after he joined you and your wife in bed.

No one ever spilled the beans about the internal crisis he'd be experiencing later.

"Are you all right, James?" Sirius asks, having followed James to the kitchen.

"Of course," James says, staring at the pots, pans and other dishes that need to be washed. He rolls up his sleeves, places the plug into the sink and turns on the tap. After a splash of washing up liquid, he watches the foam form as if it were one of the great wonders of the world.

"It's admirable how much you care about keeping the kitchen clean."

The dry remark makes James determined not to turn around.

Seconds pass with only the sound of running water filling the room.

"Are you avoiding me because of the other night?"

"I – no. Of course not. It's what Lily wanted. She very much enjoyed it." James turns off the tap. Fuck. He doesn't want to talk about this.

"But you didn't?" Sirius is dissecting James's problem question by question, like he always does when faced with an issue to solve.

"I didn't say that," James mutters. He picks up the sponge and begins to wash the dried up tomato sauce from the pan. It was Lily's idea to invite Sirius over for dinner that night, and they enjoyed an excellent pasta Bolognese before she mysteriously left.

"Or maybe it bothers you because you did enjoy it?"

James drops the sponge into the sink and huffs as he searches for it through the foam.

"I don't understand. Why would it bother me? Nothing bothers me. I'm perfectly fine." He finds the sponge again and starts to scrub the pan vigorously.

"You don't like the implication."

Sirius always knows exactly where James's train of thought is going, and it's times like these when James truly wishes his best friend didn't know him so well.

"There's no implication."

"Really?" Sirius's voice is softer now. "One woman and two men. There's an implication. You do the math."

"I'm not –" James says, unable to finish the sentence. He rinses the pan, sets it aside to dry, and stands stiffly, clutching the kitchen counter.

"I'm not into blokes." There, he said it. It's what he's been telling himself over and over again for the last few days. It makes sense.

"Neither am I," says Sirius, approaching James from behind.

A moment later, hands come on the counter beside James, and a warm body leans against him. Sirius's breath tickles James's neck, giving him goosebumps.

"Not much anyway," Sirius murmurs.

James's heart jumps at that.

"Not much?" he repeats, his throat dry like sand.

"Sometimes I make exceptions." Sirius speaks in a low tone that rattles something inside James.

Read more on AO3.

[rita-repulsa-ke]

The many husbands of Agatha Harkness

The stranger cleared his throat, then said, “I have seen you around these parts for some time, yet never have I seen your husband.”

Rio snorted, murmured the word 'husband'.

“Oh,” Agatha said. "Ate him."

The normal fighting and flirting while they're still together dynamic. Agatha is tsundere, Rio would really like more romance. They're both very in love.

“Excuse me, good lady,” the man said, and that form of address was so inappropriate it took Agatha a moment to understand she was the one being spoken to. She stopped on the street, Rio, always a step behind, almost running into her.

“Yes?”

The stranger cleared his throat, then said, “I have seen you around these parts for some time, yet never have I seen your husband.”

Rio snorted, murmured the word 'husband'.

“Oh,” Agatha said. "Ate him.”

Rio burst into delighted giggles, while the stranger stared blankly at Agatha. “Excuse me?”

“The last one? I ate him. Baked him into a pie. Oh, don’t worry, I didn’t eat him all by myself. That would have been gluttonous. I split him with some friends.”

“The…last one?”

Agatha nodded, her tone still serious and sober, while peals of hysterics she was starting to suspect the stranger couldn’t hear at all happened directly next to her ear. He hadn’t looked at Rio once, she noted. “Time before that, I poisoned him, so he wasn’t fit for consumption. Shame, really. Had a lot of good meat on him. Learned my lesson from that one.”

The man had gone the color of bleached bone. “Oh. I—see. How many…?”

“Six. Is that all, good sir?” she smiled, a simpering, sickly-sweet smile. "Or were you perhaps wishing to spend some time with me, now that you know that I am naught but a poor widow, one who could use the company of a good, solidly built man?”

“N-no,” the man said. “Good day to you, madam.”

He sped past and Agatha watched him go, noting that it was probably best that Death didn’t need to breathe or she would have asphyxiated some time ago from laughter. “Lot of help you were,” she told Rio.

“I think you had it under control. Besides, how could I interrupt that?” the other woman said, then continued snickering, murmuring ‘six’ to herself.

Agatha couldn't stop the pleased smile that stretched across her face, listening to that. She reached out and took Rio’s hand in hers. ”Best to cut off that kind of thinking early. I wouldn’t want anyone imagining I am eligible.”

“You aren’t,” Rio agreed.

“Because I’m a busy witch who has no time for romance, of course,” she said, striding along until, predictably, her forward momentum was stopped by Rio suddenly anchoring her, refusing to go farther.

“…Ags,” she complained and now it was Agatha’s turn to snicker.

“Hmm?”

Arms wrapped around her from behind and she did hope Rio was still invisible or they would cause terrible scandal in this small town. Which was generally not a problem, but she had hoped to stay here for a few more days, until she finished what she was working on.

After that, they would likely be leaving quickly regardless.

"Stop that,” Death, the great equalizer, the final destination, whined in her ear. “It hurts my feelings.”

Agatha couldn’t stop her own laughter, tinged with cruelty. “So sensitive,” she mocked.

"Heeeey, Agatha,” Rio murmured. “Say something nice.”

“Something nice,” she said on autopilot, aware she was testing Death’s patience, not a good idea but always a thrill. She had to get her kicks somehow.

Rio groaned against her, nuzzled into her neck, which did make her lips part, her breathing get faster. "Beloved, sometimes…" she said, then trailed off.

"Hmm? Not going to finish that sentence?"

Rio's teeth pressed against her neck. "Do you really want me to? Reaaaaally?"

No, she really did not. Unfortunately, Agatha had a chronic inability to back down. She shrugged, pretending indifference. "Go ahead, then."

"Agatha Harkness, you are such a trial sometimes," Rio said, her tone flat. "You throw your contempt for our relationship in my face, and then when I dare to protest, you mock me for it."

Suddenly, this wasn’t even a little bit amusing. Agatha found she had gone cold, a spreading numbness starting at her fingertips and cascading up her arms. "…Rio," she protested. "You're taking this too seriously. You know what I'm like."

"Mmhmm. Cruel, callous, heartless, indifferent…"

"Yes, all right, that's enough," Agatha said quickly, not needing to find out how many adjectives Rio could list in that particular category. She suspected it was quite a lot. "You know I…"

"Hmm?"

"…am fond of you."

Rio laughed again, but this time it was less amused, a sound much closer to the shrieking of the damned. "Coward," Rio said, even as she nuzzled and mouthed Agatha's hair. "You love me. You adore me. I'm all you think about. That's what you meant to say?"

Sometimes Agatha would have liked to be able to stop and have a stern conversation with herself before she spoke. "I really don't think it is," she said.

Rio clicked her tongue in frustration. "Ags, come on. Why? Whyyyy?" Before Agatha could answer, she continued, "I know, I know, you've always got to be the one in charge. You've always got to win, you've got to be invulnerable, you can't admit you've got any weaknesses. You've got to push me away before I leave, so that you don't get hurt."

Agatha wished she were having this conversation somewhere other than the corner of a street in a dusty little village, looking like a madwoman talking to herself. Better yet, she wished she weren't having this conversation at all. "That's not…"

Rio squeezed her harder, pressing into the boning on her dress. "I'm not going, Ags. I'm never going. I'll never leave you."

"Once again pointing out that you say that like a threat."

Rio snickered against her ear. "Take it as you will, my love. I'll be with you until the end."

"And presumably beyond?"

"That, too," Rio agreed, her teeth scraping Agatha's earlobe.

Agatha sucked in a breath and continued to say all the wrong things. "What if I get bored of you?" She didn't look back as she said it, heart pounding in her chest.

Rio didn't answer that for long enough that the silence grated on her, so she kept talking, saying more things she suspected she would regret later. "I'm only saying, tastes change and life, especially my life, is long. I might want to try other flavors."

She couldn't actually imagine that would ever be the case. She had never thought herself the kind to fall in love at all. It was a terrible weakness, to love anyone that much, to trust that they wouldn't turn that love back on you, use it to bind you to a post and try to burn the life out of your body.

"Too bad," Rio said. "You're mine."

"Ah, so it has been a threat all along," Agatha said, but she couldn't keep the delighted smile off her face. She turned to face her lover, barely noticing that people were crossing the street to avoid her. None of those people mattered in the least.

"If you like," Rio agreed. "But you do love me, Agatha, even if you have to be a terrible chore about it."

"If you say things like that, my feelings will get hurt," Agatha simpered.

"What feelings," Rio said, looking at her with disdain, and Agatha burst into wild laughter, clapped her hands on either side of Death's face and met wide brown eyes, big enough to drown in.

"Rio, my heart," she purred, and delighted in how much wider those bottomless eyes could get. "I love you. I adore you. Stay with me all the way to the end and beyond."

"You're not getting out of it that easily," Rio said, but Agatha could tell from the way her lover's lips parted and her pupils dilated that she would win.

She always did, but it was a thrill every time.

"I really will look crazy if I kiss you here," she pointed out.

"Ags," Rio murmured from close enough to make Agatha ache with the desire to kiss her. "Do the thing."

"Which thin—oh. It's a waste of power—"

Rio's mouth firmed into a hard line and Agatha decided she might actually be risking Rio's patience running out. "Fine, fine, fine." She stirred her fingers through the air, a faint hint of purple energy spinning with them. "Sanctum mortem, venalis mortem, da locum."

"Such terrible Latin," Rio murmured, but she completed the ritual, green power intertwining with Agatha's, blending together to make something different than either of them. “Mortem das locum, mortem omnia."

"Not the point," Agatha said and let herself—

She'd invented this spell, but she still didn't understand it, not completely. She'd been experimenting with her power and Rio's one afternoon and stumbled on it. Teleportation was not an easy witch spell, so any kind of transportation was valuable. Unfortunately, this one did need both her and Rio's power, but she secretly found that just a touch romantic.

She fell through the earth. And they were out the other side, at the little garden Rio had planted outside their cottage and Rio tackled her, knocked her to the ground and kissed her, fierce and unrelenting as a tidal wave.

When they broke apart, Agatha gasping like a drowning woman coming up for air, Rio grabbed her by the shoulders. “Say it again.”

“I love you.”

“The other thing.”

Agatha swallowed. “…Stay with me.” Then, softer, uncomfortably honest, “Please stay with me.”

She flinched back from her own words, expecting mockery or triumph, Rio’s shrieking laugh filling the air.

Instead, Rio collapsed against her, deflating like a spent balloon. She nodded with her head buried against Agatha’s shoulder. “Forever.”

She swallowed, discomfited by where this conversation had gone. Emotional honesty was never her preferred arena. “Even though I’m a trial and a chore?“

“No matter what.”

“Why?” Agatha asked, then immediately regretted asking. Too vulnerable.

“Because, my sweet, of all the other things you are.”

Agatha felt her cheeks heat and didn’t press for clarification. “…Ah. Can we go inside now, instead of sitting in the dirt?”

“Yes.” Rio bounded to her feet, hauling Agatha up with her by the wrist, then stopped and studied her. “Promise not to bake me into a pie?”

“No promises,” Agatha said, bringing Rio’s hand to her lips, delighting in the unblinking way the other woman watched her do it.

“I’d let you, you know.”

“…Is that supposed to be romantic?” Agatha asked, letting Rio lead her inside.

“Isn’t it?”

”Every once in a while, darling, your facade of humanity slips completely.”

Rio glanced back, clearly pleased by the pet name. “Agatha, say it again. Tell me you love me.”

“Noooo. That’s enough of that for this epoch.”

Rio pivoted to stare at her with a hint of her previous exasperation. “Heartless,” she murmured with a shake of her head.

“That’s me,” Agatha agreed, then leaned up and brushed her lips softly across Death’s, enjoyed hearing her lover's breathing catch. “But you know you love it.”

Rio shook her head. “I tolerate it. I accept it. The price I pay to have the rest of you.”

“Yes, yes,” Agatha murmured, giving the other woman soft, sweet kisses that were slowly making Death, the final hour, the last goodbye, melt against her. She hooked her arm around Rio's waist and pressed a kiss to her jaw, which elicited a lovely whine. “But let me take you to bed and I promise by the end, you’ll be saying much nicer things about me.”

Rio nodded immediate agreement, which prompted Agatha to do what she always did, push her luck. “Say please,” she teased.

Rio’s fingers dug in with more force, almost painful. “I own a lot of knives,” she pointed out.

“You know what? That counts,” Agatha said hurriedly, nuzzling at the other woman's throat.

“Agatha. One more time. Say you love me.”

Agatha groaned. “Didn’t I just—“

Two fingers, surprisingly strong, guided her head up to meet Rio’s eyes. Death's mask had fallen away, and what stared back at Agatha was something utterly inhuman, a piece of the sacred balance given form.

“…Goddess, you’re beautiful,” Agatha said, cupping Death’s lifeless cheek, her thumb caressing bone. “I love you. You know that. Now please, please stop making me say it and come to bed, all right?”

Death broke into peals of hollow, bone-chilling laughter that slowly transitioned into Rio’s shrill giggles, and now it was Agatha’s turn to look exasperated. “Happy?” she asked.

“Yes. Will you ever get better at that, I wonder.”

“Think how concerned you would be if I did.”

“It’s true. I would worry about what magical entity had replaced the woman I love, to make her able to admit her feelings for me aloud more than once a millennia.”

Agatha disentangled from Rio's embrace and crossed her arms across her chest, trying to look intimidating. “I’m considering rescinding that offer to take you to bed.”

Rio only snorted, shaking her head. “You are not. How else would you flaunt your power over me?”

Agatha could never decide if it was terrifying or comforting, to be known like that, to have someone see her for who she truly was and choose not turn away.

“True enough,” she agreed. Her lips quirked in a crooked, twisting smile as she met Rio’s eyes and found that, for once, all she could see in them was her own reflection.

Good, she thought. Don't look away.

She turned and headed toward their bedroom, quirking her fingers to motion the other woman after her. “Come to bed, my heart. Let me make it all up to you.”

Rio sighed with something suspiciously like affection and followed Agatha. And, as always, Agatha did manage to more than make it up to her.

Want to read Rio running into Wanda? Try Death and the Scarlet Witch

Want to read a time Agatha tells Rio she loves her without even putting up a fight? Try the apple

Want to read about Agatha's feelings on Rio post-breakup, pre-show? Try rio stays

[ebonysolcum]

“Year of Hell”

Something a bit different from my usual drawings. There are no people involved! Lol.

This started because I wanted to draw the broken teacup. I already had plans to draw the watch, and it quickly morphed into this set of four drawings. The broken teacup ended up being my least favourite because there wasn’t a good reference photo, but I adore the other three.

Digital drawings done in Procreate. White carbon stick on black background.

[heartorbit]

if we could stay connected, just like this