#i want so badly to talk about her but oh my god the amount of insane lore i have for her. its too much even for me

[rosykims]

having a normal one listening to florence sing i am king over and over again thinking so many reprehensible thoughts about lilithira <3

[caramelcoloredkiss]

hello! i saw ur post and im excited to read ur works so i decided to give u a request! hope u dont mind :3

m!reader who is really slim, not to the point he's unhealthy but just think of him having every girl's dream body, and then there's m!reader's bf who wants to see m!reader under all that baggy clothing but doesn't want to be too pushy so he waits until they finally decide to make love and the moment m!reader's bf sees such a heavenly sight, all he wants to mark him inside out!! kinks r up to u but i do would request creampie :3

First request from our lovely anon! Your wish is my command <3

"𝐻𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝓉 ٭"

[OC!Malcom x Sub!Male reader]

"You were always avoiding the topic of sex when it came to your boyfriend, but being so stressed over the course of your semester. You just needed something to relieve stress. Luckily your boyfriend is just so happy to give it to you.

Contains: 18+ , sweet -> smutty, body worship, size difference, creampie, praise, insecure+anxiety filled!reader

Let me know if you have any feed back or criticism! Or just how you feel about this~

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If there were a man that knew how to make you feel loved, it was your boyfriend.

Malcom was infatuated by your very existance. The way you laughed, spoke, and moved— by God it was like you put a curse on him. The smell of your cologne and shampoo had filled his senses; he had always held you close like it was his last.

You knew his love was bigger than anything else, but it always caught you off guard whenever he said it so casually. How were you able to get your hands in a man that had the biggest heart in the world? You weren't so sure.

"It's so unfair!"

You had felt yourself flinch from the sudden declaration; it was your friend, who had been laying on the carpeted ground of the living room in your apartment. She had began to talk about her exe's while you both worked on a document for your college assignment, honestly if you didn't know any better— she probably only came here to vent about more of her failed relationships.

"You seriously wouldn't believe it! The fucking asshole had the audacity to comment about my sex life! Like— if you want pussy that badly go to a prostitute! Or all the other fucking girls who you keep switching between every week!"

She huffed, pressing her face on the pillow she had taken from the sofa to muffle her uncontrollable yelling. Sofie had always been a bit easily agitated, but today was her last straw apparently.

"Why'd you even date him?"

You asked, pausing your typing on your laptop to lean back on the sofa while she rolled around on the floor, kicking her legs in the air. Your friend let out a sigh and took the pillow off her face, she looked extremely tired, did the situation really bother her that much?

"Look man.. He had good dick! But the asshole had something worth bragging and decided it was his whole personality! He was pretty big too so—"

Too much details!

"Okay stop! I don't wanna hear the details of you sex with him."

You shudder at the very thought of it, this girl was shameless, but she was your bestfriend so you couldn't complain about your choices.

"Whateverrr—"

Sofie sat up from the floor and stood up, heading towards your kitchen— your semi-kitchen anyways. She grabbed the caramel pudding that was stashed underneath, it was still so weird how she could just find the snacks Malcom buys you.

" anyways I probably shouldn't complain to you, not when your boyfriend was sent by God apparently. Seriously! He keeps buying you shit, my boyfriends couldn't even buy me flowers!"

"It's because he's nice to me, besides I buy him just as much the amount as he does for me."

Sofie teasingly rolled her eyes and peeled the packaging seal of the pudding, grabbing a spoon to eat.

"Mhm sure. Oh yeah— he dicked you down yet?"

You coughed out loud, choking in your own saliva; caught off guard by her words. Did this girl just wear no filter whenever you were around? Usually she was more shy with people.

"𝘚𝘰𝘧𝘪𝘦! Why are you so sex craved!?—"

"I am not! I just haven't heard much from you about yours, is he that bad?—"

"—well I wouldn't know! "

You both paused, sitting in silence. You didn't mean to say that—it was true but it didn't have to be said!

Closing your laptop, you put it besides you, theirs no way you could work under these way too personal questions.

"Oh, really? I heard Malcolm was pretty good. Did he not want to? Kinda fucked up if so." Sofie said, scooping a spoonful of pudding in the cup to shove in her mouth. Walking back to you to sit on the couch.

You shook your head, it wasn't like he didn't want to have sex with you. It was the fact that you were too scared to even show your body to him, you were slim, yeah it was almost every girls ideal body type— but you didn't even know if it was 𝘩𝘪𝘴. You were already in disbelief by the fact that he even reciprocated feelings for you, sex was the last thing that came into your mind.

But it didn't mean you could avoid the image of his muscular arms caging you while you layed helpless at his mercy, not mentioning the fact that he constantly walked around shirtless in your apartment— You fought your urges every day at that point.

"Well if not, I say you should, we already finished our exams you might as well get some relaxation in your life before our semester is over— we only have to submit a few of our projects left anyways."

You felt your cheeks burn, it was ridiculous. The thought of finally making love to him made you feel completely weak, you weren't even sure if he wanted to have sex with you.

"—He's probably been waiting for you to give permission or something."

You could only hope she was right.

This is embarrassing.

You layed on your bed for what felt like hours, waiting for him.

"Why is he taking so long? Ugh, I might throw up."

Sitting up, you moved from your bed to open your bed side cabinet— you had bought some lube and condoms from the store just a bit earlier, having to go to the counter to purchase the said items made you want to curl up into a ball, for fucks sakes—

Of course the cashier wasn't the only one to witness you buy them!

You were an adult.

You weren't supposed to be ashamed for buying them, or even about sex in general! But you were a virgin, someone who had stayed far away from any form of sexual intimacy for the sake of your own dignity— and now you were offering it to 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

"Calm down, [Name]. If he doesn't want to that's fine, you can just cope with it and move on!"

You felt yourself shaking, dammit you felt pathetic. It wasn't your fault your mom wanted to keep you safe! Maybe this was a bad idea, if he didn't say anything then that probably meant he—

You felt a sudden pressure wrap around your waist, the figure burying it's nose at the crook of you neck.

"Hi baby.. I missed you.."

You made a quick reaction and closed your cabinet, praying he hadn't just seen what you prepared.

"M-Malcom! Hi— did your practice go well?"

Turning your body around to look at him, lifting his face off your neck—you gently caressed his face with incredible amounts of affection. While he had determinely locked his arms around your waist, seemingly needy for your touch.

"It was fine.. Took too long, it was a pain in the ass.. "

You nodded, as he leaned his face against your hand. Malcom had always been a bit clingy when he was exhausted— desperate to touch you and to feel his cold hands on your warm skin.

Malcom was beautiful, he had bronze skin that developed from all the times he bathed underneath the sun, and green eyes that just lit up every time he had something say. His hair was flawless, his sister had always taken care of it; dark brown and with a few strands of his hair framing his face— not to mention the mole underneath his lips. [Name] was desperate to see what else is underneath just his beauty, what would he look like when they were indulging in sinful acts, what would he whisper, what would he do.

—You wanted to know...

But, he looked so tired. Probably desperate to just lay in bed and cuddle, we're you really gonna be selfish enough to take that away from him? You didn't want that, so maybe it was alright to wait a bit longer.

"[Name], I heard from Sofie you wanted to talk to me about something.. "

Malcom whispered, pressing his lips against the palm of your hand while he looked down at you with half lidded eyes, not bothering to break eye contact.

Ah, so Sofie had been out to get you.

"Its— not important, you're probably exhausted right? Let's just go to bed—"

As you were about to pull away from his hold, he tightens his arms. Damn his muscular body!

Malcom was determined to get your words out of you, a tired Malcom wasn't easy to deal with.

"You know I don't like you lying to me, spit it out, hm?"

He kept his body firm and pressed you against his chest, he smelt good, he probably showered before coming here.

"I just— it's nothing."

Malcom sighed, giving you one last look of dissatisfaction. He let's go of your hug, which made you whine a bit, his body was warm! Before sitting down at the edge of your bed, pulling you by your arm to fall on his lap. Fuck, this wasn't the best position for someone who had just been craving to get fucked by the man in front of him. Your face was getting warmer and warmer each time he looked at you, this was gonna be hard.

"Please baby? I just wanna know what's botherin' you.. That's all."

He looked a bit sad, wrapping his arms around you waist once more to pull you closer to him, with your legs in between his hips. This man was seriously not helping you.

You let out a sigh, finally giving up on holding your ground. It wasn't like it was that strong anyways.

"I-Its just that, I noticed how we were both a bit stressed out during the semester.. And it made me think, we hadn't really done much to relieve ourselves... So I thought.. Maybe you wanted to.. "

"Make love?"

You blinked, his eyes were soft, but they looked crazed— like he had been waiting so long for this very moment. It honestly made you feel a bit nervous, you weren't prepared for the reaction he would give.

"Ah— yeah, I wanna make love to you, please.. I wanna feel you." You could die from over heating.

But that seemed to be the words he needed to hear, his lips pulling up to a soft smile.

"You could've just said so, I've been wanting for you.."

Before you could respond, he took your lips.

You held onto his bicep to avoid collapsing into his arms, reciprocating the heated kiss. Your abdomen felt like it was burning, just as you were desperately trying to taste every inch of his mouth. His tongue was dominating, sucking onto yours as your salivas was mixed with the messy kiss, occasional gasps and moans leaving your lips.

"Been waiting..so long— fuck."

"ah.. haa..Malcom—"

He pulled away, before returning for another serving, you could feel your head spin a bit. This much more intense your previous make out sessions.

You pull away this time, the string of saliva showing the previous connection of your lips. The illuminating lamp at the top of your cabinet was the only thing that lit up your otherwise pitch dark room. It has how you could see the look of hunger Malcom gave you, he didn't move his face any farther from just an inch, you could feel his hot breath hit your face. He pressed his lips on your right cheek, giving it a wet kiss before lowering his attention to you other half.

"You're so responsive.. [Name], strip for me, yeah? ."

"I-"

You couldn't believe this, when did Malcom become so blunt.

Despite your thoughts, you grabbed the hem of your sweatshirt, it was pretty big compared to you. If anything all of your clothes were to big for you, hiding your body unintentionally. So when you had pulled it off, Malcom stared. He looked so deeply enamored by how your body was made— how well it was made for him.

"You look so beautiful.. Such a pretty body, been hiding their away from for too long haven't you? [Name]."

He connected his lips to your neck, suckling at your skin as he licked and nipped the same spot, stopping and moving to the next. You let out small moans, which made you bite your lip to silence it, but Malcom didn't seem to appreciate it— pulling his lips away from your awfully sensitive skin.

"Don't do that, I wanna hear all you pretty sounds, I want everyone to know how good you feel.. "

You could only reluctantly nod, and let your whined moans strain— your throat from how intensely Malcom was sucking at your skin.

He lowered his attention each time he successful left a mark, using his calloused hands to rub the side of you waist, lowering his hand to squeeze your ass, which made you bite back a squeal.

"You're so cute [Name], wanna see all of you okay?"

You could only nod again, as he gently pulled you shorts down along with you briefs. Showing the obvious erection that had built up throughout the whole thing.

"Such a cute cock.. "

"H-Hey, stop saying embarrassing things.. "

Malcom let out a chuckle, as he kissed your jaw, letting your clothes fall on the floor. He lifts you up and lays your back on the bed as gently as he could, he supports himself on his knees while pulling his shirt off, throwing it carelessly on the floor along with the others.

"You are so fucking beautiful— [Name]"

He leans down to kiss your stomach, going back up to kiss you cheek. Why was he just so loving?

𝘖𝘩 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.

"I-I bought lube, it's in the cabinet, s-so it'll be easier to..you know."

Malcom sat back up and reached his hand to slide open the cabinet.

"Came prepared huh, baby. Want we to stretch you out?"

"Y-Yeah.."

Malcom smiles, grabbing the tube of lube and squeezing a generous amount on his hand, spreading it throughout his fingers.

"Gonna slide it in okay?"

"O-okay"

He leans back down to hold you and just as he promised, he slid one of his finger in—fuck his finger was bigger than you thought.

"Hm.. You tried stretch yourself out.."

You nodded, burrying your face in his shoulder while he pumped his finger in and out of your hole.

"M' fingers weren't—ah!— e-enough.."

"You did good, I'll do the rest.."

You gasped and wrapped you hands around his torso, your nails piercing at his back, but he didn't seem to mind, only inserting a second finger in to thrust in your hole. The cold lube and his thick fingers were going to kill you, this was too much of a combination.

Malcom was a lot bigger than you thought, he was practically hiding your body from just how broad his shoulders were, not to mention the tent in his sweatpants weren't going unnoticed by just how— big it was..

"Aah—! f-fuck Mal— why are your fingers so big!?"

You screamed, feeling practically all three of his finger simultaneously out thrusting in and out of your hole. This was unfair, you were going to cum untouched at this point!

"You're just small, baby. S'not my fault you're so reactive.." He grinned, his canines displaying. This bastard!

"You—ahh!— wha—"

He hit your spot, and he didn't stop—curling his fingers to press your prostate, which just made you cry out a moan, your toes curling from the unexpected pleasure. This was too much.

He kept going, pumping his fingers and putting pressure on your prostate.

"M-Mal I'm gonna!—"

You came, squirts of white sticky cum came out the tip of your cock, you were holding on for so long. But Malcom looked satisfied, his smile never faltering as he kissed your tear filled eyes, licking away the salty water.

"You did so well baby, m' gonna fill you up now alright?—you look so pretty while cumming."

He pulled his fingers out of your hole, much to your disappointment. Malcom slid his sweatpants off along with his boxers, pumping his cock a few times before grabbing a pack of condom in your cabinet.

He was big, it was obvious, you knew it was going to be possible— but seeing it is leaving you speeches.

"Like what you see? It's all yours honey."

Malcom tears the condom with his teeth, it was hot. You weren't even going to lie about that, but seeing how he was rolling the condom on his cock made you feel dissapointed— you wanted to feel everything, his cock and his cum. You wanted to know how much he could shove inside you before it was too much.

"Ah... C-Can you not wear the condom?"

He looked back with a bit of confusion.

"Hm? Didn't you but this..?"

"Y-Yeah but, i— I want you to fill me."

Something seemed to have snapped inside of Malcom, he let out a small chuckle and dove back to your lips, giving it a rushed kiss.

"I'll fill you to the brim, don't worry baby.. "

He pulls the condom out his cock, throwing it the the side in favor of lining his leaking tip at your gaping hole. Malcom grabbed your thighs and pushed your knees to your chest, letting your cock lay pathetically on your stomach. You sucked in a deep breath as he slowly pushed his cock in.

You let out a shrilled moan, throwing your head back against the sheets of the bed while Malcom had leaned to connect your lips to his, trying to distract you from the hissing pain that was your asshole.

"Relax baby, it'll be in soon.. "

He kept kissing your lips, as you had wrapped your arms round his shoulders, clawing at his back. You would feel bad if it weren't for the incredible feeling of his cock filling your body, it was big—so big.

After a few minutes, you could Malcom's movements stop.

"It's in— m'gonna move now, alright baby?"

"haa—o-okay.."

Malcom's thrust were slow at first, which made you gasp and moan whenever he penetrated in. After a while his pace began quicker, making his cock go deeper and deeper in you.

"S-Shit, you're tight— fuck, you feel heavenly."

You could only cry out, as his cock moved deeper in, feeling every push that rush all the way to your throat. Both of you sweating, panting, and moaning about how good it felt.

His eyes glued onto yours, never breaking eye contact, his hair sticking slightly to his face as he caged you beneath his arms, this was like a fantasy. His cock was moving in and out as he whispered praises to you.

"You're so beautiful, fuck."

And—

"C-can't believe—shit— you were hiding such a sexy body away from me, hun. Not gonna stop until your filled and full, alright?—"

This bastard, acting like he could just say shit like that without making your heart drum. Malcom had kept thrusting his hips, chasing his climax just as much you craved to be stuffed full of his cum.

After a few more thrusting he came, strings of his thick warm cum filling you— to the point where it leaked out of you. But Malcom kept this thrusting, shoving his cum inside whilst latching his lips into yours.

Along with his cum, you came with him, your cum spraying pathetically on your stomach as it went limp.

And finally— he stops, using his cock to plug his cum inside, preventing it to spill out of you. You were full, the feeling of the warm liquid sitting inside your hole as his cock remained inside, you would die from this if you could.

You were both left panting, trying to catch your breath before he grins back down at you.

"How about another round, baby?"

You sipped the mug of coffee that your boyfriend had left you, even leaving a note as a good morning. He had only left a bit ago but he was planning to stay inside the dorm with you to have a date night. You couldn't wait.

A sudden ringing interrupted your thoughts, you checked to see your phone— it was Sofie.

"I should probably thank her.. "

You answered the call and pressed your phone to your ear.

"Yo, [Name]! Hopefully your fuck session went well, I heard it all the way next door! "

"Sofie I'm going to fucking kill you."

✩꙳I hope you enjoyed that! I had never wrote sex scenes before so I hope I did well~

-> Feel free to request more! Be as detailed as you'd like.

[kamii-2]

Hi, can you do nika x Paige x reader smut or fluff

hi anon! first time writing something like this so please don’t bully 😞

warning(s): cussing, smut

genre: smut

pairing(s): paige bueckers x reader x nika mühl

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you were at the club with the entire uconn team, laughing and drinking, messing around and relaxing after their game. you weren’t on the team, just a good friend with all of them, some more than others. everyone knew you were messing around with both nika and paige, none of you were secretive about it.

you and jana were sitting at the bar talking about the game, talking about how everyone played and just overall having a good time. “hey guys what are you talking about?” nika said as she walked over next to you and looked you up and down, “the game” you replied while sipping your drink. she hummed in response and you and jana went back to talking. in the middle of the conversation, nika kept rubbing your thigh and going closer and closer to your pussy. this small gesture had you stuttering and soaked but you kept your composure until jana had got up and went to talk to other girls.

the second jana left, paige stole her seat. her eyes immediately looked down at nika’s hand the looked back up at you to see your reaction. nika was basically fingering you through your jeans and you were losing it. “yall wanna leave?” paige asks, clearly enjoying the sight. “yea let’s go.” nika said as she took her hand off your thigh.

-

you guys decided you were going to your house because you didn’t want anyone to walk in or interrupt what was about to happen. when you got to your house you went to your room and waited for them, leaving the front door unlocked. after a few more minutes of you waiting, they both walked in. “you looked so sexy mama.” paige says as you slowly walks up to you, “but i bet you’d look even sexier getting fucked by us.” nika says as she leans against the door way.

the sight of them had you dripping, you needed them so badly. paige pushed you back on the bed, getting on her knees. “can i?” she asked as her hands creeped up your sides to the top of your pants. you nodded and paige took off your pants and underwear. paige smiled before diving right in, licking and sucking your needy clit. “damn.” nika whispered to herself before walking over and leaning down to kiss and sucking your neck. the amount of pleasure you were feeling had you so overwhelmed. even though this has happened plenty of times, you’ll never get used to it.

“fuck!” you moaned out as you got closer to your climax. your neck was covered in dark bruises from nika, your legs were starting to tense up from how paige was tongue fucking you, and you loved every second of it. “oh my God.” you moaned as you came, gripping nika’s muscular arm. “switch me.” paige said, looking up at nika from her position on the floor, nika nodded.

it was just like before but paige and nika switched positions. paige made it with you as nika immediately started sucking your puffy clit, dipping her fingers in your soaked cunt. “fuck, i love the way you taste.” nika mumbled in between your folds. the vibrations made you jolt with pleasure, moaning into paige’s mouth. since your clit was already sensitive from paige, it didn’t take you long to cum, and when you did it was just as good as the first time you had came. your legs tensed up as nika continued to eat you and finger you.

after you came, they cleaned you up and hung out with you for a few hours before that had to go back to their dorm since they had pratice in the morning. in the few hours you guys hung out, you talked about school, the basketball season, and other things related to both of those topics. the rest of the night was fun and you were sad when they left but you knew they’d make it up later.

==================================

i’m sorry this took so long to come out but i hope you enjoyed and i hope you have a good day/night, love you 💋💋

[formulaforza]

miss americana and the heartbreak prince

—09. Sweet Nothing —word count: 8.5k —warnings: none :) love, mack... sorry. SORRY. you can't even begin to imagine how different my life is from when i last updated. SORRY. technically I got paid to write this lol.

Charles turns up to pre-season testing with a gifted case on his phone. It’s from Reid, FORZA CHARLES written in his best handwriting, colored red with his new set of crayons from his birthday. It’s been on his phone since the five-year-old gifted it to him because Reid was too excited about it for Charles to do anything but put it on. 

Reid had carefully explained that it was a good luck charm—but that Charles is not allowed to be mad if it didn’t have enough luck, since he had to rush to make it before Charles had to leave. 

Reid had played it so incredibly cool ( see: jumping around Chris' kitchen after school squealing like a baby pig ) when Chris had shown him a picture of Charles with the phone case on in the paddock. There’s a certain softness that she feels watching his excitement over something so small, something that gets this kid so incredibly excited because he thinks Charles is so cool. There’s something soft, and there’s also something so incredibly terrifying about it. That she let Reid develop this relationship—even if oh-so-small—with Charles, because now if it goes wrong, if it sours… not only is it going to screw her up in the head royally, but now she’s going to have to explain it to Reid, too. To break his heart, too. She thinks Charles is completely clueless as to the amount of people he’s got completely wrapped around his finger. 

Reid, in all his pure and unadulterated joy, insists that Chris call him up so Reid can share in the joy with her boyfriend--because no matter how many times she attempts to explain it to the kid, he can’t fathom the idea of timezones. 

Chase has always been so good at navigating them, even though he has ever been only, at most, a few hours off the time at home. He’s never missed a bedtime story or a goodnight kiss if he could help it. They’ve always been so good at it, him and Hannah, that Reid is truly unable to conceptualize why someone away at a race can’t talk on the phone with him. 

“He’s sleeping, Reid,” Chris says, shaking her head, and taking her phone back from his grubby hands. “I’m not calling him in the middle of the night.”

“It’s not the middle of the night!” He protests, and he’s not wrong. “It’s just after school time.”

Chris sighs. “But he’s not here. He’s somewhere far away, remember? We talked about this before he left?”

“No! Facetime him!”

She rolls her eyes. They go back and forth for some time like that, her arguing with a five-year-old about time zones. It’s only becoming clearer that there are only two ways for this to end. Either Reid throws the fit of all fits until Hannah gets off work to come pick him up, or Chris calls Charles. If she hadn’t spent all day already keeping five-year-olds from throwing a tantrum, she might have had the strength to endure another grumpy kid. But, she had spent the day on eggshells, so she makes the call and hopes his phone is turned off so it doesn’t wake him up. 

Despite her hopes, he answers, even though it’s past midnight there. She’s apologizing before she can even make out the shape of his face on the dark screen. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. His voice is groggy and sleepy and he speaks through a yawn, shaking his head in a dismissal of her apology. “Es-tu…” he groans. “Are you okay?”

“Yes!” She quips. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Reid just wanted to say hello. I promise it won’t be more than a minute.” Momentarily, she considers shoving her nephew into the pantry where it’s dark. Where the bright light of Chris’ kitchen isn’t going to hurt Charles’ eyes in the dark of his room.  

“It’s okay,” he smiles, and God. God, he looks so sleepy and sweet and if she didn’t feel so horribly guilty for waking him up, she’d be thinking about how badly she wants to kiss him. He turns on a lamp and cringes at the brightness of it. Her wince is disguised as a smile. “Where is he?”

Here, she says, handing the phone off to Reid, a half-scold, half-warning leaving her lips in the form of be quick. He grabs her phone with the heel of both his palms, keeping his greasy snack fingers off her screen, setting it down with a light clatter onto the countertop, forehead peeking in at the bottom of the screen. “Hi, Chuck!” Reid greets. “Auntie Chris says you’re sleeping!” he giggles. 

“Auntie Chris was right,” Charles laughs softly, and now she just wants to kiss him. She doesn’t get to see him sleepy nearly as much as she’d like to, as much as other girlfriends get to see their boyfriends sleepy. 

She manages to swallow the guilt gnawing away at her bones, silence the already rehearsed apologies she’ll be uttering the next time they speak, and just listens fondly to Charles entertaining Reid. He's so patient. So kind in his efforts to get close with her family. He doesn’t have to do that—seriously. Most people wouldn’t talk to their girlfriend’s nephew on the phone in the middle of the night. Then again, most people wouldn’t fly a quarter of the way around the world for that same nephew’s fifth birthday party—or travel that same distance for a family wedding on a fifth date. In fact, most people would be so put off by the idea of having to do those things, they would never in a million years entertain the idea of dating someone who lives around the world. Most people wouldn’t, and yet. Charles would. Charles does. Each and every time, he does. 

— — —

“So, he comes up to me, right?” She laughs, “I’m trying to give a reading test, and he walks up, and I almost tell him to go sit back in his seat because he’s supposed to be silent reading,” She continues. It’s 12:03 am, at least that’s what her microwave clock tells her. It’s 12:03 am in Georgia and when they’d gotten on Facetime twenty-one minutes ago, he’d told her exactly two things. 

One—the car is shit. Two—I don’t want to talk about it. 

So, she didn’t ask any questions and instead launched into the story she’d been anxiously waiting to tell him all about since it had happened that morning at school.

“But before I can say anything,” she explains to her phone camera—to him, on the other side of the globe— “He says, ‘Um, Miss Elliott, um, my tooth falled out,’' She grins, and Charles matches her expression because even across continents it’s a contagious smile. It was the first time any of her students had lost a tooth in class, and the room proceeded to erupt into chaos, she would continue to tell him. “It was crazy,” she laughs. “I didn’t know what to do with him.”

“So what did you do?” Charles asks, laughing himself. 

“I took him and his tooth down to the office,” she says, half out of breath. “And I let them handle it. I was way out of my depth. The nurse brought him back like, ten minutes later with a plastic tooth necklace that held the tooth all day.”

— — —

Chris is cozied up on the couch with Bean, babysitting the dog for her parents while they traveled to Vegas for her brother’s race when Charles DNFs in Bahrain. 

Her heart sinks, through the couch and through the floor and deep into her non-existent basement. It might even go all the way through the world and into Australia to wait for Charles to get there in a few weeks. 

Once he’s out of the car and they show him on camera, he looks so annoyed. Defeated and annoyed in a way she isn’t sure she’s ever seen him, and like he could use a hug. A bear hug. She wants to stick her arms through the television and around him and hug him and kiss him and make him laugh and get that look off his face. She wants the car to turn into a person she can fight. To kiss him all over and run her finger through his helmet hair until he forgets about it for a little while. To tell him how she’s sorry. And how she. How she… how she likes him so much. 

How, maybe someday. Someday, in a vast and distant future, she loves him so much that it scares her to think about for more than a moment. How—again, maybe someday in a timeline she can't imagine yet—she thinks of him constantly. How he’s burrowed his way into her skin and how every time she sees the color red she doesn’t think of it as angry or harsh or mean, she just thinks of him. 

How she loves him, maybe, and it’s wholly terrifying. She hates that she loves him, maybe, because she knows it’s only a matter of time. She’d really, truly hoped he would come to his senses before it got to this point, this drowning slowly in his honey words and soft smile, hoped that he would have found her too much and too messy and not worth all the energy and time and money. But he hasn’t. He hasn’t, and now she loves him, maybe, and has nowhere to put all this fear. 

She waits for him to call her, and he does, hours later when it’s got to be the middle of the night there. She can’t keep the time difference straight and has googled it at least half a dozen times today alone. 

“Did you watch?” he asks, and he doesn’t sound defeated, not like he had during testing. He sounds… dejected, if anything but normal. 

“Yeah,” she says, even though there wasn’t much to watch. 

“They’re saying on Twitter I looked hot,” he chuckles, and it puts a soft smile on her face. She pulls her knees to her chest, picking at the lint on the knees of her leggings. “At least I have that going, huh?”

“You always look hot,” she says, her smile growing.

“True,” he says, and he follows it with a laugh. An honest to god laugh that makes her heart swell. 

“Besides the obvious,” she says, adjusting in her seat, “It was a good race.”

“It was definitely not a good race,” he chuckles. 

Chris continues to pick at her leggings. They’re covered in lint from her blanket and hair from the dog. “Well, I thought it was good. I know you didn’t finish, but… if you had,” she smiles gently. He was on track for a podium. If he had finished. 

“But I didn’t,” He sighs himself into a perfect frown. 

“Eh,” she waves it off with her hand. “Semantics, semantics. Rose and thorn.”

“Rose and thorn,” he nods, quirking a brow. “What is rose and thorn?”

“Oh,” she shrugs, “you know. Like… take the good with the bad? The rose and the thorn,” she explains. “You were having a good race—rose. You didn’t finish the race—thorn.”

“Ah,” he says, his head dropping down into a chuckle. “Rose and thorn, yes.”

— — —

One thing you learn when you’re the aunt of a five-year-old little leaguer is that every single team is actually just a major league baseball team rebranded for whatever city these elementary schoolers are playing in. Same names, same logos—sometimes they’ll change the color scheme, but sometimes they can get away with keeping it. In Reid’s case, they kept even the color scheme. 

Chris supposes this makes her outfit choice for his season opener significantly easier. It’s sunny and sixty-five degrees and Chris is wearing a Detroit Tigers sweatshirt—Navy blue with a white old English D embroidered on the front—and a pair of blue jeans. Reid’s tee-ball team is oh-so derivatively named the Dawsonville Tigers. 

It’s Reid’s third year playing baseball, his third year playing tee-ball. Next year, he’ll get to move up to the real little league, which will only give Chase and Hannah a million more practices and tournaments, and games to travel to. Reid is counting down the days until he gets to play with the bigger kids. Chase and Hannah… not so much. 

They, along with the rest of the family, have grown relatively attached to the comedy show of a bunch of preschoolers chasing baseballs around a bunch of gravel. Chase is an assistant coach, and he’s been swearing up and down in the family group chat that at least ten of the fifteen kids on the team know they’re supposed to run to first base after they hit a fair ball. At least ten of them, and the coaches are working hard to get the other five on track as soon as possible. 

Chris and Hannah sit in folding camping chairs behind the fencing catching up while they watch the show, sipping boxed wine from Hannah’s secret purse-stash in their matching YETI wine tumblers. 

The conversation starts with a rundown of the team this year—of the moms, more importantly. Which ones Hannah likes, and which ones look at her like she’s still a nineteen-year-old with a baby she doesn’t know what to do with. It’s a common thing for Hannah, even now that she’s got a settled career and a house and a whole life with Chase. It doesn’t matter, not to the bitter southern housewives with nothing better to do than spend their time hating other women. 

It starts there. And somehow, with the quick exclamation of Oh! You’ll never believe what Miss Julie told me about Kacie! The two girls are deep in gossip about someone from high school’s relationship. It always seems to go like this, when Hannah gets this endless well of gossip from work, from the hours spent waiting for bleach to process and colors to develop in the salon. 

“But wait, forget about that!” Hannah laughs. “How’s Charles!? Your dad said he had a shit race?”

Chris furrows her brows, swallowing a sip of wine. “My dad knows how his race went?” She asks, and Hanah shrugs. “I mean, yeah, he did,” she chuckles. “Power unit issues, even though they literally replaced the battery and the ECU that morning.  They have to replace the whole thing, so he’s going to have to take a penalty next race too,” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “For the ECU that they just replaced.”

Hannah scowls. “That’s fucked,” she laughs, covering her mouth, doing a poor job at concealing her wine giggles. “He’s coming to visit in a couple weeks, right?”

“Mmhm,” Chris hums. “He’s like…” she laughs, “so geeked out about coming to one of these games. I told him they’re so boring, but. He’s adorable.”

“I’m sure he’s more geeked about other things,” Hannah teases, playfully shoving Chris’ shoulder. “Long distance fucking sucks for the sex life,” she giggles. Chris blushes bright red, holding her hands up in surrender before taking a long sip of wine and asking for a refill. 

Chandler shows up somewhere between the third wine tumbler and the fourth inning of the baseball game. She’s in her work clothes, complete with the kitten heels that sink into the muddy grass with every step she takes. She taps the opposite shoulder of Chris that she stands behind, and Chris falls for it, turning back the other way to see her, to smile genuinely because they haven’t had the chance to get annoyed with each other yet, haven’t had the chance to get annoyed with each other since they last saw the other at Chase and Hannah’s wedding.

“Are you still with that guy?” She asked, from her seat in Chris’ camping chair. She felt too bad watching her heels sink in and out of the mud, so now she leans against the fencing while Chandler sits. “The French one?”

Chris nods, her arms crossed over her chest. “Monegasque,” she corrects. “But yes. Still together.”

“Hmm,” Chandler hums curiously, picking at her cuticles. “Are you ever going out to see him?” She asks. 

“Uh,” Chris sighs, dragging her toe through the gravel, drawing harsh lines and kicking up dust. “I’m gonna fly out for spring break,” she says. “But he wants me away from Monaco.”

“He wants you to stay away?” Chandler asks, and Chris doesn’t miss the tone of voice, eyes darting to Hannah to confirm the condescending tone she already knows she heard. Hannah closes her eyes before she can roll them, and takes a sip of her wine, leaning back in her seat, crossing her legs. 

“Not like that, Chan, come on,” Chris sighs. “I don’t want to be there. We don’t want to be there. It’s too hard, everyone knows him there and we don’t want anyone to know me.”

“So, he’s hiding you?”

“No,” Chris shakes her head, pursing her lips together. “We’re being private. He’s trying to protect me.”

“Alright,” Chandler chuckles, putting her hands up in defense. “I’m just saying, I never would have hidden Lex.”

Chris’ head physically recoils, forcing a scoff out of her mouth. Hannah laughs, too. “You literally hid Lex for two years,” Hannah says. “Like, genuinely you hid her from all of us.”

“That’s different,” Chandler argues. “I wouldn’t have hidden her if she was a man.”

“And Charles wouldn’t be ‘hiding’ me,” She says, forced air quotes around the word she can’t come up with a synonym for. “If every woman he interacts with wasn’t crucified,” she defends. “Can’t you just give him the benefit of the doubt, Jesus.” Chandler rolls her eyes and pulls out her phone, answering texts or emails or whatever else is so pressing as a distraction from the current conversation. “Seriously?”

“What?” Chandler spits, rolling her eyes. “I’m just looking out for you, Chris. You don’t have the greatest track record with guys, so forgive me for being hesitant to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

Chris bites her tongue, literally, and purses her lips. She nods, watching the dead serious look in her sister’s eyes with a glare of equal intensity. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of death stares, Chris puts a pretty smile on her face. “I’m really happy you came all this way, Chandler,” she grins, slipping her phone into her back pocket. “I’m sure Reid will be thrilled to see you,” she continues. “He missed you at his birthday party,” she adds, squeezing her sister’s shoulder as she passes, walking away and kicking up gravel when she does it. 

Saudi Arabia is no better. He has a great qualifying, but he also has that pesky grid penalty and a Ferrari that just doesn’t seem to have anything even close to race pace. The car just feels… so undriveable. So unpredictable. One corner it’s all oversteer, and the next it’s a completely different car, fully understeery. It’s just. It’s terrible, really, and he’s known it since the first time he got in the car. 

It doesn’t help that he spends the whole race stuck behind Carlos, who seems to have just as much pace as he does. He calls Chris that night, so fucking angry, and she gets an earful, one that he immediately apologizes for dumping on her after he’s gotten it all out. 

“It's okay,” she tells him. “I’m just glad that your bad days don’t line up with mine,” she joked, and he laughed because it’s impossible not to laugh at her jokes, even when he feels like shit. “Better days are coming,” she promised, and he wanted to believe her, but he also knew this car inside and out. 

“Not soon enough,” he told her, and she smiled. He can’t get enough of her smile. 

“Patience, grasshopper,” she teased, holding up both her hands in a meditative pose, humming out an ommm. 

“You are so dumb,” he giggles. 

“Oh, please,” she says, opening her eyes, relaxing again. “You love me.”

There’s a heavy beat of silence. So heavy that it can’t even be blamed on FaceTime lag. 

His brain is malfunctioning; heart racing, palms clammy, entire body sweating thinking she knows. Thinking he’s been entirely too obvious about it and not done nearly as good of a job as he thought. You should tell her. You should tell her. Yes. Yes, I do love you. I love you so much I don’t know how to tell you. I love you so much that I’m scared telling you is going to mess it all up. 

He can’t tell her like this, though. Not now, when he’s halfway around the whole and every nerve of his body is frustrated.  No, it needs to be when he’s with her. Not over the phone. He’s completely clueless as to when or where or what the right time is, but he knows this sure as hell isn’t it. 

So, he stays quiet. Because he’s sure if he speaks he’s going to just blurt it all out, and he hasn't kept his mouth shut this long just to say it like this. She’ll have to break the silence. It feels like it takes an eternity for her to do it. 

“So, uh, what time does your flight land here, again?” She asks, and his shoulders loosen just a bit. 

“Yeah,” he nods, wondering if she can hear his heartbeat through the phone. It seems like it’s the only thing he can hear. “Sorry, uh. Yeah. Let me look,” he says, grabbing his phone from its propped-up place on the hotel coffee table and scrolling through it to find his ticket to Georgia. “Five… ish.”

“What time do you leave?”

“Eight-something?” He says, still looking at the flight information. 

“What time is it now?” She asks. 

“I don’t know,” he admits. He’s been making a habit of losing track of time with her. “Late.”

“Go to sleep,” she says, her voice playing out of his phone speakers softly. He smiles at her voice, at her instructions, at the fact she cares enough to tell him to go to sleep. 

“Yes ma’am,” he says, and then salutes her for good measure. 

“Merci,” she giggles in butchered French, and his ears perk up like a puppy, a grin painting itself onto his face. 

“Oh?” He laughs. ““Tu parles français maintenant, n'a pas? fille drôle, je pourrais te dire ce que je veux et tu ne sauras jamais mieux,” You speak french now, do you? Silly girl, I could say whatever I want to you and you wouldn’t know any better. 

“Goodnight,” she says, ignoring the French they both know she can’t even begin to translate in her mind. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” he nods. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Miss Elliott has to leave right after the bell today, friends,” Chris hums, leaning against the front of her classroom desk, holding a stack of school newsletters. “Do you think we can get our room nice and clean before the end of the day?” She asks, smiling and nodding at the spattering of little yeses and nods. “Okay,” she grins, pointing to the whiteboard. “All of our tasks are on the big board,” she explains, running through each table and their room assignments. 

The class stays about on task as a herd of twenty-something five-year-olds possibly can, with Chris reminding them to stay on task—and reminding them what their task is—from her seated spot on the group rug, cleaning up the class library with a couple of other students. 

“Where are you going to, Miss Elliott?” Quinn asks her, handing over a book. 

“I have to go to Atlanta,” Chris hums, putting the book on the correct shelf. “Do you know where Atlanta is?”

Quinn nods, handing over another book from the pile on the floor. “Far away.”

“It’s not soooo far,” Chris smiles.

“I just have a uncle there.”

“Oh yeah? That’s nice. Do you ever go visit him?” Chris asks. 

Quinn doesn’t answer the question. “Does you have an uncle in Atlanta?”

“Nope,” she shakes her head. “I have to pick someone up at the airport.”

“Your boyfriendddd?” Quinn giggles, dragging out the letter sounds teasingly. 

“A boyfriend?!” Chris grins, laughing. “You think I have a boyfriend? I spend all my time at school with you!”

“No!” She laughs. “Landry sayed you have a cute boyfriend!”

“What?” Chris giggles, snatching a book from Quinn playfully. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, crazy girl.”

— — —

With the help of her students, Chris manages to get the room put together for the next morning in less than fifteen minutes after the end of the school day, checking Charles’ flight tracking one more time before setting off from the parking lot to the airport an hour away. 

He emerges from the sliding doors of his terminal with his bags and a bouquet of flowers. Chris is shaking her head, cheeks already half-pink and mind more than half-melted when she hastily parks against the curb, popping her trunk and hurrying around the back of the car to greet him properly. 

“Get in the car,” she giggles, “before they start honking at us!” she says, but Charles couldn’t care less about the angry airport goers behind him, leaving his suitcase on the curb, waiting with his arms already open and a tired, jet-lagged smile on his face. 

Chris resists the urge to just throw his entire body into the car and speed away from the terminal, instead hugging him tight, arms wrapping around his frame, slipping into the space between him and his backpack, the plastic casing from the flowers crinkling against her back when he hugs her just as tight. 

He kisses her hair hastily, “Hi,” he mumbles, watching her lips carefully. 

“Hi,” she smiles, giddy. “Eyes up here, brother,” she teases. 

Charles scowls, dropping his backpack off his shoulder and lifting it up into the trunk. “Do not call me brother.”

“Too incest-y?”

“I can get another plane,” he teases, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, and hoisting his suitcase off the curb with his other hand. 

“Go visit one of your other girls?” She asks, pressing the button on the top of the hatch to close the trunk. 

“See?” He laughs, parting from her just long enough for both of them to get into the car. “You get it,” he says, closing the car door and quickly reaching over the center console to pull Chris into a kiss, muttering something about you did not really think I was not going to kiss you?

It’s a familiar speech he’s given that morning, the same one she’d carefully handed out when he was here months ago. The be safe, don’t get eaten by a bear lecture. That’s not where it ends, though. Chris continues to go on and on and on about her Mom’s birthday party that evening—one of the many reasons he’d decided now was a perfect time for a quick visit—and how he was under no circumstances to go overboard on gift-buying, or even buy a gift at all for that matter. 

“I’m going to pick up a card on my way home from work,” she explains, standing at the end of the bed, work bag slung over her shoulder, travel coffee mug in her hand. “And I’m gonna sign both of our names,” she continues. Charles rolls his eyes from the bed. “What?” She laughs. 

“Your siblings’ partners…” he yawns. “They get her their own gift, yes?”

Chris hesitates, which makes Charles grin, which forces her to grin. “Yeah, but—”

“No but.”

“But,” she laughs softly. “They’ve been around longer than you.”

Charles scoffs, feigning offense. “Stupid reason.”

“But a reason, nonetheless.”

Charles shakes his head, smiling. Dramatically, he pulls the comforter back over his head. “Goodbye,” he mumbles. 

“Goodbye. I’ll see you later,” she replies, her shoes creaking against the floor as she moves through the hallway. “No gifts!”

“100 percent buying a gift, but okay!” he calls back, pulling the covers back down, listening just long enough to hear her car pull away from the driveway before turning the nightstand lamp off and putting himself back to sleep. 

— — —

When he wakes up again, much closer to an acceptable morning time, he’s already racking his brain for gift ideas. 

It’s an area of life he’s never considered himself particularly strong in. Sometime shortly after the appropriate period of making his Mum a homemade necklace from uncooked macaroni noodles and washable markers, he discovered he was particularly inapt at choosing gifts. 

It’s a shame, really, because he’s always felt like a good listener—especially when it came to people he cared for. And yet, every holiday and birthday and anniversary he’s struggling to come up with something besides an outrageously priced bouquet of flowers at the local florist. 

Which is why he sits on the sofa, legs kicked up on the ottoman, laptop on his legs as he searches What to get your girlfriend’s mum for her birthday? Birthday presents for Mum. Birthday gift ideas. Birthday gifts for Mums near me. What should you get your mother-in-law for her birthday?

Nothing is right. Everything is too silly or too impersonal or too cheap or too expensive for Chris to forgive him for buying. He’s scrolled through so many pages and so many articles hoping for an idea to spark that he’s starting to go crazy. 

Defeated, he closes the laptop, abandoning it on the couch cushion next to him, and dragging his feet all the way to the bedroom, planning on flopping face down on the bed. Instead, he comes face to face with the unmade mess, sighing. He haphazardly peels all of the layers off the bed, stripping the pillows of their cases, tossing them onto the pile of blankets on the floor. With two new pillowcases from the linen closet, he carefully remakes the bed. 

But now, there’s laundry. So he gathers up the pillowcases and the plastic purple hamper in the corner of the room and hauls it all to the laundry room. He tosses the entire hamper into the washing machine, and then stares at the shelf of containers. Three look dustier than the orange plastic container, so he picks up that tote and reads the instructions on the side of the box, following them carefully. When he closes the top of the washing machine, the start button glows green. He doesn’t dare adjust any of the settings, pressing the button and saying a soft prayer to the laundry gods. 

He pulls the dry clothes from the dryer, putting them back into the hamper—and they’re all white. Fuck. Was he supposed to do that with the pile of clothes he’d just dumped? Too late now. Another prayer to the laundry gods. He heads back to the bedroom, dumping the clean white clothes onto the freshly made bed, and folding away at them. He sorts them out by drawer, checking the continents of each drawer half a dozen times, and puts everything where he’s nearly certain it belongs—first in the closet, then in the dresser. 

Sitting atop the dresser are two loose rings and an unclasped necklace. He puts both the rings on the plate of her jewelry stand, and carefully clasps the necklace back together. It’s a thin gold chain with a row of several pearls in the middle. He hangs it gently with the other three pearl-styled necklaces that hang from the top pole of the rack. Pearls, pearls, pearls. She’s always wearing pearls. The next pole has half a dozen bracelets, most with pearls incorporated, and he can’t even begin to count the pairs of pearl earrings in the dish. It’s always pearls, because of what her Mom always says. Pearls make a lady. 

Pearls make a fucking lady. The answer to his question has been literally sitting in front of him this entire time. New Google search—re: Jewelers near me. 

— — — 

Charles is in the kitchen assessing the fridge for snack options when the front door is swinging open at a speed he can’t believe doesn’t result in a loud clattering of the house shaking. “Chuck!” A small voice calls out into the house, followed by another thud, presumably his backpack against the floor of the foyer. The noise continues, heavy little feet running down the hallway through the house, in his direction. Quieter, he can hear Chris, the metal jingling of her keys against the coated aluminum of her travel coffee cup, the click of her shoes down the hallway floor. His name is not Chuck, she hums behind the small boy. “And my name ain’t Reidy but you’s still call me that.”

“That’s different.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Uh-huh,” Chris mocks. “I’m the boss,” she says, calling after the boy as he walks through the kitchen doorway. “I get to do whatever I want!” Chris calls out from another room in the house. 

Reid catches Charles’ eyes, squeezing between him and the fridge. He rolls his eyes, twirling his finger beside his head. “You are not the boss,” he insists, grabbing a juice box and a stick of mozzarella cheese. “You are like my stupid little boss.”

Finally, Chris appears in the doorway, shaking her head. Her eyes meet his and he feels himself grinning—an almost embarrassing amount. She looks so pretty, he thinks. So full of life and color. “I’m his stupid little boss,” she says, grinning. 

“Ah,” he nods, closing the fridge doors, moving to kiss her hello. “It’s like this, you know?”

“Do not tell me you haven’t gotten a gift yet!” Chris scolds her brother. First, he’s fifteen minutes late to pick up his kid, and then he has the gusto to ask her what she bought their mom for her birthday…. To give to her at the party in two hours. 

“Okay,” Chase laughs, “I won’t tell you.”

“Chase!”

“I have like, two hours,” he shrugs, looking at his watch. “Relax.”

“You’re ridiculous!” She insists, rolling her eyes. “Seriously. I got her a new Circuit because she’s always telling Dad how slow the one she has is running. And then I got her a bunch of scrapbooking stuff to go along with it.”

Chase nods, burying his hands in his pockets, rocking back on his heels. “And he’s just signing his name?” He asks, looking past her in the doorway to Charles, currently half-engaged in a Mario-Kart battle with Reid. Chris nods. 

“Actually—” Charles interrupts, eyes still focused on the game, hands moving with intentional precision over the controller buttons. “About that. I got her one of those….” he trails off, moving one hand to gesture around his neck. “You know. For your… here.”

“Your neck?” Chris questions. “You went out and bought a necklace?” She continues, thumbing at the gold chain around her neck. 

“Necklace!” He snaps his fingers, pointing in her direction before immediately flopping back into the sofa cushions, Reid laughing maniacally beside him at the sight of his rainbow road victory. “A pearl necklace,” he adds, holding his hand out to shake Reid’s. 

Chris smiles. A pearl necklace. A friggin’ pearl necklace. It’s so simple that it’s stupid, really. It’s dumb. It’s stupid and it’s dumb and it’s cliche, in all honesty—that he is the person to remember a one-off about pearls when he can’t remember anything else. 

“Oh, fuck you, that’s good,” Chase groans. “Hannah got her this, like… a cutting board with a recipe burnt into it or something.”

Chris shakes her head softly, still thumbing her necklace. “It’s Meemaw’s brownie recipe,” she says, her eyes glossed over, mind elsewhere. 

“On a cutting board? Because brownies famously need a cutting board.”

“Shut up,” she says softly, smacking his chest with the back of her hand. “It’s cute.”

“It’s expensive.”

Chris’s attention snaps back to her brother. “You won like, literally a million dollars a few months ago. But a cutting board for Mom is too expensive?” She questions, raising her brows, crossing her arms over her chest. “You better find something,” she warns.

Chase holds up his hands in defense. “I know. Worst case scenario, I’m a little bit late to dinner, okay?”

“Get out of my house,” Chris shuffles, gesturing to the open front door. 

“We’re going, we’re going,” Chase laughs, gathering Reid’s backpack from the floor, and helping the boy tie his shoes. 

Chris closes the door behind them, staring at Charles, her back pressed against the cool door. He looks back guiltily, gathering the controllers and putting them on the end table. “I’m sorry–”

“A pearl necklace?”

“Yes,” he nods. “Do you want to see it?”

She shakes her head, moving to join him on the couch, an almost painful smile pulling on her lips as she curls up against him. “I want it to be a surprise,” she hums softly. Charles adjusts underneath her slightly, wrapping an arm around her frame, pressing a kiss into the top of her head. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “I’m just happy you’re here,” she adds. 

Is it possible for love to be a pearl necklace?

It’s an easy routine they’ve found—early morning alarms and goodbye kisses and listening to her try to sneak around the creaky floors without waking him up. 

Today, he gets a guest pass to a local gym and works out in the corner following a workout plan Andrea had sent him—minus the neck training. That’s not happening alone in public. 

After the gym, he heads to a grocery store—the biggest one he’s ever seen. He spends more time trying to figure out where he is in the store than he does actually shopping. Like, how many different kinds of pudding could one person need? A whole wall of cereal? Of chicken? Of milk? Be serious. It’s insane. What was meant to be a quick trip to the store for dinner ingredients has turned into a whole ordeal. 

He was just trying to make things easier—for Chris, not for him. It was the middle of her work week and instead of planning a lazy night at home, she’d planned out a million and one things for them to do while he was in town. Charles can’t help but feel like she’s trying to keep him entertained, and it’s a feeling he hates. It’s not her job to keep him entertained. He’s not a toddler. 

So, in response to their full evening schedule of a little league baseball game for her nephew, the possibility of some type of family gathering to follow that could last any vast pan of time, he figured the least he could do is make dinner and have it waiting for her when she got home. They aren’t on Reid duty after school, so it will just be the two of them. It can’t be that hard. 

He’s in the kitchen, humming along to The Kooks—watching the chicken and pasta and stirring the white sauce when she walks through the front door. “Bonjour bébé,” she says, walking through the doorway into the kitchen. 

His head shoots up from the pot on the stove, a smile instantly falling across his lips. “Oh, c’est bien, mon ange,” he says, even though her pronunciation was so forced she’d be laughed out of Paris. She’s trying, and he loves it, and he loves her. So, it’s a good job. 

“Really?” She beams. “It was good?”

He can’t help but smile at a smile like hers. “Yeah, very good,” he nods, kissing her quickly. 

“What are you making?” She asks, hoisting herself up onto the countertop beside the stove, wafting the air in the direction of her face. “It smells good.”

“Chicken and pasta,” he says. “One day, we are going to make pasta from the beginning.”

“You know how to make pasta from scratch?” She asks. 

Charles raises his brows, giggling to himself softly. “To be honest, no. I was hoping you did.”

Chris laughs out loud. “Oh. Well, then. We’re screwed.”

“No,” he frowns. “We’re in serious trouble if I have to be the good cook.”

“I’m not a bad cook!’ She insists, feigning dramatic offense, clutching her pearls, literally. Charles cocks his head to the side, glancing over to her. He smiles a come-on, now smile when she raises her brows in defense, an ache-inducing smile on her face. She is so beautiful it hurts. She is so soft it hurts. She is so, he supposes. End of sentence. 

“Et je ne t'aime pas,” And I do not love you, he mutters, leaning over to press a quick kiss into her lips, lingering just long enough to feel her grin. 

“En Ingles, por favor, Señor?” She asks, quirking a brow. 

“Not a shot in hell.”

“Please?” She frowns, and he actually considers it. Just momentarily, but considered nonetheless. Because what a moment this is. What a time it would be to do it, to say it, to make it known.

Instead, he shakes his head. “Maybe later.”

— — — 

“You’re going to want a jacket,” Charles mutters, moving behind her in the bathroom, sizing up her outfit. They’re getting ready to head out to the baseball game, and she’s wearing leggings and a blue sweatshirt with an Old English D on it—one that apparently matches the color and logo of Reid’s team uniforms. He’s opted for jeans, a white t-shirt, and a blue knit zip-up sweatshirt. It’s quite chilly out, and despite the sun peeking through the clouds, it’s windy. 

“I’ll be fine,” she says, running a brush through her hair. 

They remember to bring a backpack full of snacks, as well as two travel thermos mugs of drinks that are certainly not alcoholic. They forget their camping chairs, though, as well as the sweater Charles had planned on bringing for when Chris decided she did in fact want a jacket. And most importantly, they forget how to keep their mouths shut. 

It’s cold. It only gets colder as the sun sets, as the game continues. Neither their drinks nor the bottle of wine smuggled in by another one of the player’s mothers manage to keep the chill off. 

Chris stands against the fence that goes around the field with her mom, talking animatedly about who knows what. Charles steals Cindy’s empty seat beside Hannah. He watches as Chase and Reid walk up to them—Reid kicking up a trail of gravel dust with every excited skip. 

“Do you want kids?” Hannah blurts out from the seat next to him, and then before even a beat can pass, “Jesus, sorry,” she laughs. “Sorry. Ignore me.”

“No,” he smiles, as soon as he can regain his composure from the blindside of do you want kids. “It’s okay,” he reassures, adjusting in his seat, his eyes lingering on Chris for a moment longer than usual—just to make sure she isn’t hearing this conversation. 

“It’s really not,” she laughs, shaking her head, taking another sip of her definitely-not-wine. “It’s just that if Chase and I die, Chris gets Reid. And she’s… I mean. You see her. You know her,” she says. The sentence left unsaid is that anyone who has ever met Chris would know that if anyone was ever born to be a mother, it’s her. “And she really likes you. Like, a lot,” Hannah whispers. “And I like you, too—but I won’t ever like anyone enough to let her sacrifice something I know is so important to her—”

“I want children, Hannah,” he laughs, cutting her off. “Do not worry.”

“You do?”

“Three.”

“And you want to get married?”

He nods again, almost instinctively looking to his girlfriend, because, as he would argue if pressed about it—who else do you look at but your girlfriend when someone asks you about marriage? “Yes.”

Hannah notices his lingering glance, apparently, because the next words out of her mouth are: “To Chris?” Charles cocks his head back over to face Hannah, rolling his eyes when he does it. Hannah nods. “Sorry, fuck,” she laughs, covering her own mouth. “I know, what’s wrong with me?”

“It,” he starts, but then he’s stopping himself because he isn’t exactly sure what he planned to say. “There is nothing wrong with you. You’re just being a good friend—a good sister,” he pauses, looking back to Chris quickly, spinning his ring around his finger. “I don’t think it is the craziest thought, maybe,” he says, and he’s as surprised to say it as Hannah is to hear it. “But,” he holds up a finger and laughs. “Ask me in six months and I bet I can give you a proper answer.”

Hannah smiles, raising her brows, and takes another sip of her drink. “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

“Oh, I’m counting on that,” he says, and now he can stare without care. It’s normal, he tells himself, to think about it all after it’s talked about like that. It’s not his fault that he’s picturing it—his future, her future. Their future together. He thinks that maybe if he squints really hard and takes a step back he can see himself getting married. That maybe she’s there too, in some wedding dress that probably has pockets. 

“You’re thinking about it now, aren’t you?” Hannah asks, and it pops into his mindless bubble of crazy. He laughs, shakes his head, and pulls his phone out without saying a word. “You totally are,” Hannah giggles, and he feels his cheeks flush. “Look at you blushing, oh my god!”

Charles rolls his eyes, a smile pulling on the corners of his lips. “Shut up,” he mumbles. 

He watches from his conversation with Hannah, watches as Chris stands at the chain-link fence, hugging her own arms and shifting her weight from one foot to the other like she needs to pee, trying and trying to warm herself up with the friction of her own arms. 

“Did she bring a coat?” Hannah asks. 

“No,” Charles replies. “But she’s half a minute from forcing her to put on mine.”

“She can take mine, if she wants,” Hannah offers, but Charles turns her down. 

“No, no,” he says. “I am warm, anyways,” he lies. It’s cold out, but his mother raised a gentleman. 

Chris shivers one more time and Charles has had enough of watching her stubbornness. He takes off his sweatshirt and walks up behind her, draping it over her shoulders in the middle of a sentence. 

“Hi?” Chris says sweetly, turning to look at him over her shoulder. 

“Hi,” he smiles, kissing her cheek. “You’re cold.”

She rolls her eyes but smiles and mutters a soft thank you. Charles hums his response and nods, moves to return to the empty camping chair beside Hannah. Chris reaches out to stop him, catching his hand, his fingers interlocking into hers with a casual ease. 

He stands behind her, adjacent to her conversation with her Mother, watching the game through the fence. He’s barely listening, his focus split between the game he doesn’t understand and toying with Chris’ fingers behind her back. “I’ve been learning French,” she tells her mom. Charles smiles. 

“Oh really? Where at?”

“Uh, just on my phone. I got this app that you can do lessons on every day.”

“And you chose French because of…” Cindy trails off. Chris nods, her grip on his hand tightening, which really pulls his attention. 

“I’m pretty bad but he likes to pretend I’m a pro,” she grins, leaning back into him. 

“Well,” Cindy laughs. Chris shivers, moving to put on the sweatshirt instead of just having it draped over her shoulders. “Charles, you shouldn’t be scared to put her in her place.”

“Oh,” he laughs. “No, she’s a quick learner, really.”

— — — 

Cindy excuses herself, says she’s going to go and get some hot chocolate to take the edge off of the chill, and asks if Chris or Charles want any. Charles says no, Chris says yes—offers to pay but is denied. 

Once she’s gone, Chris is spinning in the gravel to face her boyfriend. “Thank you for the sweatshirt,” she says. “And thank you for not saying you told me so.”

“Are you still cold?” He asks, putting the back of his hand on her forehead like he’s checking for a temperature. It’s chilly, but it's not bitter or wintery. 

“Yeah,” she says, swatting his hand from her forehead. “I’m fine, just can’t get warm.”

“C’mere,” He says, pulls her into a tight, warm hug, fully wrapping her up in his arms, running his hands up and down her back. She melts against his chest. “I think it’s Reid’s turn,” he points out, and Chris spins in his grip to face the same direction so he’s hugging her from behind. 

Chris whistles, “Let’s go, Reidy!” She calls out, and then quieter, just to Charles. “He’s nervous that you’re here.”

“Hmm?” he laughs. “Why?”

“He wants to impress you.”

They watch Reid’s at-bat, watch him swing and miss on the tee twice without laughing. Chris is talking to Charles about whatever she and Cindy were talking about before he came over, neither of them taking their eyes off the game. Charles kisses Chris’ covered shoulder while he listens to her talk, runs his hands up and down her arms to create some friction. 

Reid hits the ball off the tee on his third swing, and Chris actually jumps with excitement. He hits it right to the second baseman, hurries his little legs towards Chase on the first base. Chris cheers through a laugh, her body vibrating against Charles’ chest. 

In a pause in the conversation, he wonders if she’s ever been more her than she is right now. At home, with her family, a never-ending well of love and laughter and beauty. He almost wishes that he could just observe her and all that she is, admire the woman he gets to love. 

This is the moment. 

It has to be. Perfect moments don’t exist but this has to be as close as you can get. “Are you okay?” Chris asks over her shoulder, “Your heart is racing.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Um,” Fuck. Just say it, Charles. 

Chris laughs anxiously, turns around to face him, brows furrowed. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I love you.”

Chris doesn’t miss a beat. “No, you don’t.”

“I do,” he nods. “I’m so in love with you.”

Her face softens, the concern melting away. “Really?” God, she says it so soft that it’s almost a squeak. It hurts him how much she clearly wants to believe him. How maybe, maybe she does. He nods. “I love you, too.”

Charles beams, cradles her face in his hands and kisses her. Kisses her like they’re in love. Because they are. They pull apart in a fit of giggles, his thumb dancing on her cheek, running over a tear. “Are you crying?”

“Shut up,” she says through a smile, turning around to lean against his chest again, wiping a tear from her cheek with a sniffle. It’s cute, he says. “Shhh.”

Through a peppering of kisses on her shoulder, her hair, her cheek, he repeats between each peck. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

last chapter masterlist next chapter

[wandixx]

Christmas in Mount Justice

cartoon version of Young Justice, written instead of sleeping and I'll be honest, I kinda run out of steam at the end, but it'd take me until next year if I didn't push through, so here it is, and hopefully it's not quite visible where I started pushing through it, I hope you'll enjoy

words: 4633

“Since, hopefully, this is the last time we're seeing each other before Christmas–” Black Canary announced, stretching after finished training“ I wish you all merry and healthy and boring Christmas” she finished with a wide warm smile. Danny barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. This goddamn worst time of the year. He checked once more if his mental shields were up. According to M'gann, ghosts were really loud on mind reading wavelengths so he needed to keep them up most of the time. He wasn't an asshole to drown his friend in absolute hatred of Christmas.

“You too Black Canary!” Wally yelled, running like the earth was burning to get cookies M'gann baked “By the way, what are your plans?” he asked upon his return.

Did they really have to keep talking about it? Danny was half considering just dropping through the floor to escape this conversation but chose against it because he really didn't want to answer all the questions it would cause or hear a ‘you can't deal with all unwanted conversations by escaping them’ lecture again any time soon. He could and he would, the Freakshow incident was just one way to prove it.

“B and I have to attend some stuffy rich people party” Robin said with clear displeasure “I still need to plan what mess to stir there. Chandeliers swinging are banned and so is arson so I have to get creative.”

“You actually set something on fire?! That's sick as hell!” the speedster's enthusiasm didn't waver as he threw a few cookies at Danny. It was nice that someone remembered about Danny's slightly enhanced metabolism. They (both Young Justice and Amity squad) still didn't understand it completely but the working hypothesis was that he needed to eat more to make up for ectoplasm he couldn't consume in quantities big enough for his ghost side since it was poisonous to humans and he had to dose it carefully. Being a halfa was rough like that some(most)times. 

“Well, lighter is easy to sneak inside–” Robin explained and honestly Danny never expected to hear Gotham’s feared vigilante go over logistics of arson but he guessed it was his life now, he could use this info to do something about at least one Christmas tree in Amity or share it with Sam. She mentioned some upcoming rich people party too”–and amount of alcohol there is astonishing, really you'd think that people would try to stay sober on event like that but apparently–”

“I'm having dinner with my mom and some family friends–” Artemis interrupted “Can't wait spend God knows how many hours with all of them talking over each other and asking awkward questions” she tried to sound displeased but there was no way she could hide her fondness and wasn't that a wild thing to see. Seriously, he almost choked on a cookie. In theory Danny knew some people genuinely liked Christmes but–

Just like that? Just happy to–

Yeah, he knew but couldn't quite comprehend. Sam was exactly like that, found but trying to seem annoyed to keep up with her goth persona. Tucker was way more open about his delight.

For Danny Christmas was only too loud because everyone was singing badly and too bright because of lights and too stuffy and there was this damned argument about Santa and yelling and fe–

“Oh, me too! We also planned a movie night with Central Rogues, this time it's Cold’s turn. I wish he won't pick Die Hard again…”

Well, Danny guessed movie night with Rogues, that clearly meant an off evening since they wouldn't try to stir things up while watching the movie, sounded like a really nice idea. Personally he would do without people who try to turn him into a pulp every other day but apparently things worked differently in Central.

“King Orin wanted to introduce me to some surface celebrations as well,” Kaldur said with a warm smile and halfa forcefully stopped himself from giving their leader a weird look. Even him?! Betrayal, absolute betrayal! 

“Well, I don't really celebrate so I'm staying here, maybe training a bit, I'm not sure yet,” M'gann announced shyly and it took all his willpower to not hug her for being the only sensible person in the room.

“Yeah, I'm staying too. Apparently I'm not invited to family gatherings” Conner added bitterly. 

“Honestly your not missing much,” Danny muttered “It's just perfectly prepared and measured argument breeding space, believe me”

Wally tried to protest but one pointed glare and it dissolved through power of ‘don't make Conner feel about it any worse than he already does’. Danny felt a little guilty for using it to sooth his own hatred towards Christmas but not too much. He really wanted to reassure his friend and ways he went about it were no one else's business. 

“And what are your plans, Danny?” M'gann asked gently after he didn't continue. He really wished he didn't have to answer but keeping his emotions hidden meant nobody could see that something was up and say ‘you don't have to tell if you don't want to’ or other shit like that.

“Not sure yet. I think I will crash with you here honestly. If we believe this magic book we found, there is a Christmas truce in Zone, so there shouldn't be any ghost attacks and your company is always great,” he smiled sincerely.

“Wouldn't your parents ask questions if you just skipped Christmas, though?” Wally asked a bit cautiously but Danny waved his concern off with a vague ‘eh’ sound.

“Will you show us some Christmas traditions then? As a part of ‘earthly traditions’ course?” M'gann's eyes almost shone with excitement and Conner looked hopeful and it made him feel conflicted. The whole point of crashing in Mount Justice with two aliens was to not touch anything Christmas related with thirty feet long stick but alas M'gann asked nicely and was pretty. These were two big ideals fighting inside of him then and there while he tried to keep his face and outer mind blank enough to not bring any suspicion.

Betrayal to second, no third, power! He wanted to escape this hell of an experience! 

But well, he could shape the experience in a way that's the least painful and M'gann and Conner were really great friends…

“Sure”

He couldn't quite match her enthusiastic grin or even Conner’s bit smaller one.

He was going to regret it, wouldn't he?

***

“Guys, I messed up so bad…” Danny whined,  curling on Sam's enormous bed covered in fluffy blankets and nice pillows.

“What did you do this time?” girl asked with a smirk. Halfa was sometimes mad how well his friends knew him and didn't take his dramatics as seriously as he would like to.

“I wanted to have a sleepover at Team's HQ during Christmas, you know, to escape it. Only ones who will stay are Miss Martian and Superboy, aliens, so I thought it's a good idea. And then they asked me to show them ‘earthly Christmas traditions’ and I AGREED!” he yelled, his hands flying dramatically at the confession.

His friends, little traitors they were, just laughed.

He came to get some help, advice on either doing this introduction well because Danny Fenton was known for a lot of things but half-assing projects he agreed to do wasn't one of them (homework was obligatory without his consents ergo didn't count) or gracefully getting away from mess his idiocy brought onto him, not to be laughed at! He had enough of it at other times.

Though they got to work when they calmed down, making Danny revisit the idea of not talking to them ever again and throwing it out of the window.

“Alright,” Tucker started, preparing his note and planner apps before continuing “what do you want to show them? Gingerbread house?”

“Of course” Danny huffed because as much as he hated Christmas and its traditions, gingerbread house was decent one. Making one at Tucker's place three years ago when he had been introduced to the idea was one of his best memories related to the holiday. Even though it was cut short by trip to the ER because dumbass little Danny had wanted a little gingerbread man he set aside and he had eaten him still all fresh and 350°F hot and got severe burns in his mouth and throat because apparently his instinctual response to burning in his mouth was to swallow instead of to spit.

“Gifts.” Sam raised in a way that meant she was not taking any complaints and Danny didn't really want to argue. His track record with gifts from his parents wasn't too good ever since he had a brief just-like-dad phase and they didn't realize it ended after a month but other people knew how to fix it. The Voyager Lego set he got from Sam the year before still made him smile when his eyes landed on it. 

Tucker noted it down. “What else? Christmas tree?”

Danny winced but nodded. He wasn't too fond of it but it was too big to miss it.

“Ugly sweaters?”

“Superboy would actually develop laser vision if I tried it”

“Movie marathon? I can lend you some DvDs”

“Yeah, it's probably a good idea. Kid Flash mentioned it too.”

“Santa Claus?” Sam asked with a smirk and Danny threw a pillow at her.

“Who is Santa Claus? I never heard of him, must be a Rhode Island thing” he answered with a straight face, not knowing how many times he will have to repeat it.

**

Phantom: hey guys!

Phantom: want a Crisscross Christmas

Phantom: ?

Artemis: The what?

Phantom: oh, you know

Phantom: this thing were we draw aech othres names anf have to buy a gift

Kid Flash: you mena Secret Santa

Kid Flash: ???

Phantom: never heard of that

Phantom: thats a wierd naem

Phantom: but if rules match, call it whatever yoyu wnat

Aqualad: I like this idea

Robin: GIft drop-off on 27th is okay for everyone?

7 people liked this message

Robin: i take that for yes. 50$ budget?

Kid Flash: Robin, Rob, Bob, my best pal. I have 5$ and single slice of bubblegum to my name rn

Kid Flash: No, actually no bubblegum anymore

Kid Flash: 10$ is top I could spend

Phantom: Same

Artemis: Same

Aqualad: Me too

Miss Martian: I'm not sure if me and Superboy have any money, actually

Phantom: See Rob?

Phantom: just be a good samamritanina and give them 10$ instead og flaunting batmans money

***

"Important question. How do one pick a present?"

"You know, it's good if it's something personal, either in a way that it's something they want or need, a gag gift that'd be funny for both of you, or just something that made you think of them"

"Yeah, yeah, I read the mom blogs, none of this actually helps, what am I supposed to get for Artemis?!"

***

"Alright, so. I have a list of things I think you need to learn about Christmas. We're kinda late to the party, so I cut off some stuff because there is no way we would make it in time."

"Sounds about right, what do we start with?"

"Most classic of classics, the Christmas tree, Batman already greenlit it, so it's waiting outside"

***

"So, Christmas tree is evergreen plant, conifer, sometimes only branch or synthetically made model, that, if living, is cut down from Christmas tree nursery, and then put inside the house, usually in the living room or other space that is considered repre-"

"Danny, we live in society, we have basic knowledge on American traditions that is literally everywhere. We don't need it to be spoon fed to us in a voice more robotic way than Red Tornado, literal robot"

"Conner!"

"What?! I'm not wrong"

"Sorry. Let's get to decorating then?"

"If you want to ramble, we'd be more than happy to listen. It's obvious that you took a lot of care to learn everything."

"Speak for yourself"

"Conner!"

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, with what exactly do we plan to decorate it?"

"Oh, this one is easy. I asked around people to donate some stuff, and Batman got us few things after I asked for permission for the tree. He even asked Justice League to drop us some things too."

"That's nice of them"

"Yeah, though I'm a bit worried about gifts from Arrows and Robin, y'know. They all had this type of smile that means either a gag idea, merch or exploding glitter and I'm not sure which option scares me the most"

"Glitter"

"Glitter"

"Yeah, you're right"

***

"Did… um… did Superman bring anything?"

"Yes, actually! He brought pretty big box of stuff and mentioned dropping of some food for Christmas in the morning or the afternoon of the first day. He said he was happy that you got the experience even if he isn't able to be the one to give it to you. I think he is coming around"

It was an interesting thing about Danny. He wasn't all that good with authority figures or frankly adults in general, and he never passed on the chance to tear in Superman for his treatment of Conner, if he saw the man, but in private he was surprisingly pro-Superman and tried to make them "see his perspective" with some pretty convincing arguments. Everyone else was still unimpressed but Danny never gave up.

M'gann still wasn't sure if in these circumstances she found it cute or annoying.

"Bullshit"

"If that's what you want to believe in"

***

"Oh, hello Megan! Red Tornado, would you like to join us in decorating the Christmas tree?"

"This… seems like a decent idea. What is the procedure of it?"

"We already put on the lights, so now we're placing baubles and other hanging decorations, before we finish off with paper chains and these fuzzy boas. We need them evenly spread out on all of the tree, preferably in a way, that things in similar colors aren't right next to each other, alright?"

"Yes, Phantom, instructions are clear"

"Great. Do we want some music in the background? My friends usually play some Christmas songs to get us all in 'the right mood' as he calls it?"

"Good idea, I'll play something."

"Thanks Meg"

"Just hear the sleigh bell jingling…"

"Is this… yeah, it's Carpenters, it's Jazz's favo- oh shit"

"Got it!"

"Nice catch Conner! Red Tornado, sorry I didn't clarify before, we're not decorating the side by the wall."

"Understood"

***

"We have only one last thing left then"

"Yeah?"

"The star at the top. The youngest child of the family usually get the honor. Conner, it's you time to shine~"

"Shut up already"

"How is he supposed to reach the top though? He can't fly"

"Step stool or someone has to hold him up lion king style"

"Lion king- Don't you dare! Keep those hands to yourself! Danny!

***

"So, what's next on your magical list?"

"Gingerbread house. It's a moment for you to shine Meg, because I'm absolute mess in the kitchen and I don't think Conner is much better"

"Actually-"

"blah, blah, blah, absolutely perfect, could be hired at Michelin star restaurant right this instant blah, blah, blah"

"Oh, you little-"

"I believe the arguments are supposed to start at the Christmas table and not before. It seemed to be consensus in my sources. Was I mistaken?"

Conner stopped dead in his tracks, as confused as M'gann at the question.

Danny laughed so hard he fell on the ground.

"Red Tornado, what does that mean?"

"There is no need to spread misinformation until we can get confirmation whether my sources were correct or not"

"Danny? Danny?! What does he mean?! Why are you laughing?!"

Danny just stayed curled on the floor, almost wheezing.

***

"So, we have all of the ingredients, right? Flour, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves-"

"I think it's still in the cabinet, let me grab it real quick"

"Alright, other than cloves, do we have salt, vegetable shortening, granulated sugar, molasses, an egg- I mean, applesauce? Yeah? Let's hope it'll work. Okay, I think were ready"

"Ginger?"

"What?"

"Do we have ginger ready?"

"I don't think so, I'm pretty sure we've run out about a week ago? Why- oh wait"

"Did we seriously forgot to get ginger to make The Gingerbread House?! It's literally in the name!"

They all just stood in silence for a long moment.

"We're idiots"

"Well said, well said"

"I believe there are better names to describe you in this situation. Unfortunately, I cannot recall them"

"Thanks Red Tornado, that was helpful"

"Maybe we can still buy it?"

"It's 10:34 PM, December 23rd, M'gann, what shop would even be open?"

"Shut up Conner, it's actually not a bad idea. I think I've seen- yes, there is something open until eleven, about five minutes out if I fly"

***

"There was no ginger at the shop, but I got cranberry for later, if needed, and some chips to snack on"

"It's fine, we found unopened pack of powdered ginger in the back of the cabinet"

"That's great! Give me a minute to return this packet I liberated on my way home?"

"Danny!"

***

"Hey, M'gann!"

"Yeah?"

"Would you like to invite your uncle to our dinner?"

"That's a great idea Conner, thank you!"

***

"Okay, wait, wait, wait, before you two get weirdly aggressive about it again-"

"We're not that aggressive and it's a serious matter"

"I don't have any ghosts to get of my misplaced aggression out on so I'm funneling it into cake decorating instead"

"M'gann, you literally are trying to choke him right now, Danny, even I know it's concerning and I have less than half a year of learning what is considered normal under my belt. Anyway, before you escalate it again, how about each one of us gets one side of the house and then we work in pairs on the roof?"

"I like that"

"But what about aesthetic integrity!"

"It's quite literally against the point of gingerbread house"

***

"Before we go to sleep, I believe it's a widespread tradition to leave milk and cookies for the Santa Claus on the Christmas Eve evening"

"Huh"

"What is it this time?"

"Nothing really, chill out Conner, I just never heard of that"

It was so clearly a lie it probably couldn't even be called that, but at this point everyone realized, that for some reason bearded man in red was a sore subject, and they stopped trying to learn why. Maybe some day he'd tell them.

***

"Sorry. This person is currently unavailable. Please leave a message after the tone."

"Hey Dani, it's Danny. Merry Christmas, please let me know when you get that. I'm celebrating outside of home, safe, with some friends, so if you want, I can give you an address and you can drop by. They're all more than okay with ghost stuff and have a history of accepting someone similar to you without any questions. I'm sure they'd love you. Let me know you're alright and if you want to join us. Sorry I keep calling, I'm at the worrywart stage. Love you, please stay safe."

Danny was doing pretty well with this whole "organizing Christmas". Really. M'gann did kick him out to breathe a bit of fresh air (and wait for the Superman and food he was supposed to bring in) because his hands were shaking too much, but other than that he was fine. Really. He was getting a bit panicky because he didn't hear a word from his sister in the past week and usually she let them know if she knew she would go somewhere where that could happen but she just as often didn't because she spontaneously decided to do something else. Trackers they made her wear showed she was fine.

It didn't really help, he wasn't sure if there was anything less than actually hearing or preferably seeing her that could reassure him.

It wasn't even talking about all of the trouble that was a bit closer to home, because Christmas never meant anything good for him, with or without his parents stirring up the Santa-fight. They weren't there and yet, he still couldn't make himself believe it could be any better this time. For Ancients sake, he made sure there was no Santa Claus in whole Mountain, nothing to remind him of how it always was and his brain still decided to be stupid about it.

So now he was standing in thin hoodie out in Rhode Island winter, in hopes that cold would shock him out of spiraling, trying to keep his breaths even and not fly away because it felt all like a little too much at the moment. he was standing in thin hoodie out in Rhode Island winter, waiting for a man who would awkwardly try to do the whole 'I'm an adult you can trust' routine and then treat him like messenger pigeon to contact the child that actually wanted and needed him. He couldn't entirely blame him but-

"Are you quite alright?"

"I'm fine"

"Are you sure? It's quite cold to be dressed like this and your heartbeat is quite erratic."

"I'm fine as old wine Superman, please say your piece before someone comes to see what took me so long"

"Danny-"

"I'm serious. Leave it alone and just give me the food"

Superman looked a bit conflicted, clearly considering all of the potential pros and cons of digging in further and choose wrong.

"You're worried about Dani"

"You're the last person I want to talk to about her," Danny spat out, anxiety quickly turning into anger.

"Of course, but-"

"Have two civil conversations with your clone before trying to tell me how I should handle mine" As soon as these words left his mouth, Danny regretted them, if only a little, but he kept pushing "I told you about her to explain why I'm willing to vouch for you. It doesn't make you someone I'll confide in. It doesn't make you someone I trust. It doesn't make me approve of the way your handling it. It just means I understand. But you're an adult man and experienced hero with stable job and adult shit figured out and I'm a teenager with home just safe enough for me to stay and family that'd question how third child just showed up. We are not the same."

Superman flinched away at some point during the rant, looking properly humbled. He avoided eye contact and just reached forward to pass him hard plastic case filled with food containers and smaller boxes wrapped up in nice Christmas themed paper.

"Alright kiddo. Get it inside before you turn into a icicle. And tell Conner I wish him Merry Christmas, alright? I mean, I wish it to everyone but…"

Damn, if the "never meet your heroes" person wasn't right.

"You're a coward Superman. Come in and tell him that yourself"

***

Conner lashed out, as expected, but it was far more subdued than it would be just few month before. To his credit, Superman stayed the whole time it went down and only left when boy mostly calmed down and wouldn't feel like he was being ignored. Man even tried to respond to some allegations, though he wasn't really heard. Conner ranted some more after hero left, but overall it went better than Danny thought it would.

Then they had dinner, which went… surprisingly well. Apparently, not having to worry about being attacked by the main dish did wonders to Danny's overall jitters (and didn't everyone get super weird when he mentioned it). Not having people start nonsensical fights also helped. He knew better than to mention that.

Also, turns out that Superman or whoever he got to make them food was freaking amazing cook, thank you very much. Danny wasn't necessarily fasting, not in a way he knew some people did in the period preceding Christmas or at least on Christmas Eve, but the tension of past few days made it hard to eat a lot. It definitely lessened now that the thing was happening and seemingly going well, so he was absolutely ravenous. To be completely honest, as far as he could tell, everyone else matched his enthusiasm.

There was a bit off moment at the beginning, when Martian Manhunter asked him if he shouldn't be with his family during holidays, but Danny quickly and subtly brushed it off and nobody mentioned that afterwards.

He may have overeaten, actually, for once in his live, which he may regret in the morning, but at the moment, it made him quite content.

Then came the gifts, which also went better than he expected. For once there was no need to act like he enjoyed the gift despite already planning on how to get rid of it. Even better, focus was almost fully removed from him, obviously, because it wasn't his first rodeo.

Conner looked so lost and confused with the gift he got from Superman's mom, it was almost heartbreaking. It was beautiful crocheted scarf, black and red, with his symbol on each end, and an apology note explaining that Mrs Martha Kent would give him something more note worthy but she learned about him way to late to make something better. There was also promise of more worthy gift in near future. Danny knew all that because Conner read it out loud, asking everyone to help him make sense of that. There was only so much they could do.

Other than that, he got some nice flannel shirts from M'gann, quite a few sweets. He also got a book from Danny (it was a sin he didn't read "The Martian" before) and concepts of new hero suits for him, that Sam somehow sneaked between the pages. It was certainly a lot to explain without making anyone angry.

M'gann got two different cook books, that unfortunately didn't include Fenton fudge recipe (Dad was really protective over it), some surprisingly obscure merch from "Hello Megan" and more sweets.

Red Tornado got an apron and few tokens of appreciation, that robot quite liked, as far as Danny could tell.

Martian Manhuter, due to how rarely he visited, was the hardest to pick presents for, which resulted in some general little trinkets.

Danny got night sky projector, which was really cool, and potted plant, for some reason, which, while also cool, because plants are cool (Sam would rekill him if he thought otherwise), he knew far too well, would not survive until July. It wasn't only because he could barely take care of himself, let alone whole ass plant (see also, that one time he either drowned or dried three cacti), but also because of the times ghosts (or home security) attacked him in his room. He was thankful anyway. Maybe it could push him into finally getting some contingencies against that, that’d actually work. After all, it was quite a pretty plant.

By the time they moved to the couch to watch “Die Hard” of all things (it was only DVD that Tucker provided that didn’t have Santa Claus as a prominent character, because of course that little traitor would do that), Danny had to admit that this Christmas was… nice. Enjoyable. Pretty amazing actually. Good enough that he could understand people waiting for it the whole year. He couldn’t tell that he joined their ranks, but he certainly could understand them.

It was also downright exhausting and at some point even dynamic fights of John McClane couldn’t keep his eyes open. It was fine though. He was safe, he was warm, almost squeezed against his friends. It was good place to just relax.

It’s been first time in a long time since he felt that on Christmas.

********

I'm not sure if I managed to properly Conner's... whole thing, if he turned out too hostile, let's just say he was still pissed about the whole "wasn't invited to Clark's family gathering" thing and it made him a bit more antsy.

I'm not sure how well I managed to handle it, but I don't want to bash neither Clark nor Conner. They're both victims in this situation and while the way Clark handled it was far from ideal, it's also far from worst he could do and I believe he deserves a bit more grace. In the end, on psychological level he is just human and humans don't always handle being baby trapped perfectly. Maybe I have more understanding towards him because my prefered way of handling conflicts is walking out and locking myself in my room, but idk. Maybe I'm capable of more coherent explanation when it's not 3:44 AM

Ginger shenanigans were inspired by my own Christmas preparation adventures, when I was making bread dough for the Christmas Eve and decided to add rosemary to make it more ✨festive✨ and got really attached to the idea. My mom agreed, then it turned out we didn't have any, then I went to the shop like twenty minutes before it closed at 11PM so at least one guy was there to replenish his alcohol suplies. My mom called to tell me to also buy some powdered garlic and beetroot. Turned out we had rosemary at home. At shop I only found garlic. I also brought energy drink, because I was tired but had more stuff to do and some snacks just because.

Bread turned out pretty good.

I sincerely believe if I was solely responsible of making gingerbread, I would forget to get ginger (or like, to fit with "it's in the name" thing, pepper, because in Polish it's "piernik")

I'm really sorry if the drop in quality by the end is noticable, if this thing stayed unfinished whole another year i'd do something I'd regret later.

[solsticelosthermind]

I wish you would write a fake dating fic where Clint or Bucky has to play lovey dovey with Nat (or someone else) for a mission, and they do a really good job at being convincingly in love, and that’s the trigger for the unpartnered party to realize how badly they wanted to be in Nat’s spot.

You!!! You are my favorite. This is going directly in my wips but uhh oops have the 700ish words that fell out in the last half hour: See, the mission isn’t an issue. They’ve done this before, the whole giggly-handsy-just-married-style of touristy shtick tended to be a perfect cover when they wanted to be seen but not necessarily noticed.

Except it was usually Clint pressed close to Natasha, playing a silent game of chicken with wandering hands.

And now Clint is on the sidelines.

The Backup, y’know, putting the eye in Hawkeye to use, the safety net while the spider and her mate spin invisible threads around their prey.

And, well, look, his job is to look, isn’t it? So sue him, he’s looking.

He’s caught half the damn fair drooling over them as they wander around.

Case in point, Bucky makes a show of ‘covertly’ looking around before tugging her into a less-than-hidden alcove. He picks her up by the waist like she’s made of air. When he sets her down on some kind of table, she’s slightly taller than he is. Her arms slip around his shoulders and her legs part to let him between her knees, and Clint’s not about to choke on his own spit about it, no sirree.

They’re shooed back out into the main walkway hardly a minute later. Bucky radiates the perfect amount of smugness as he tucks her under his arm, a hint of lipstick ruining the corner of his beautifully pouty mouth. Nat is the picture of shyly mortified glee, burrowing into his side to highlight the mess he’s made of her hair.

They turn the corner and she pulls him down for a kiss that lingers slightly too long, brushing her lipstick off his mouth only to kiss him again like she can’t help herself.

God. Bucky’s eyes are so dark when he straightens, thumbing at his mouth and kissing the top of her head. They step up to a game Clint knows is rigged five ways from Sunday, but Bucky plays the kid running it like a fiddle, knocking down the bottles that have been glued down with a wink. He makes a big show out of collecting a giant stuffed cat, calico with huge green eyes, and presenting it to Nat with all the gravitas of a fucking proposal. The smirk on his stupid mouth makes Clint want to eat his own arrows.

“Hey,” Sam mutters, knocking their shoulders together. “Tone down the scowl, man, you’re gonna freak out the mark.”

“Am not.”

“You absolutely are, dumbass. What’s got you all grumpy anyway? Still pissed Bucky got tapped to be Nat’s boy toy?”

“I can pull off a good pair of heels, too, y'know” Clint mutters.

“I’m afraid to ask,” Sam drawls.

Clint’s too busy watching the way Bucky runs a hand down Nat’s arm. He hooks their knuckles together and pulls her hand up for a kiss that’s more indecent than when he was literally grinding into her a minute ago. She giggles, long lashes fluttering as she lets him pull her in against him again.

“Yo. Barton. You with me? Where’s your head at, man?”

“I have never wanted to be short so bad in my life,” Clint answers stupidly.

“Again. What in the actual hell?”

Bucky’s hand is so casually possessive as it rests on the back of her hip. He guides her around some kind of cotton candy debacle and the muscles in his arm should be criminal.

Sam bursts into a horrible wheezing cackle that bends him in half.

Clint blinks. He darts a look to where Bucky’s running his hands through Nat’s hair, twirling it around his finger as they talk to someone’s grandma hawking funky crocheted dolls. He looks back down to where Sam’s going darker from the force of his laughter.

“What the fuck?”

“Oh man,” Sam gasps, throwing a hand on Clint’s arm to help himself upright. “You’re down bad, aren’t you?”

Clint looks back. Bucky’s got his head thrown back on his own laughter, throat bared and eyes scrunched up. He’s the most gorgeous thing Clint’s ever laid eyes on.

“Yeah,” Sam says. “You’ve got terrible taste.”

Bucky chooses that moment to slant a look over his shoulder, like he knows.

Clint gives him the all-clear, and for some reason Sam starts laughing again.

“The worst,” he repeats.

And that’s just not true at all.

“Could be worse,” Clint says once he manages to squash the need to go nuh-uh like he’s three instead of thirty. “Could be you.”

(Now on ao3!)

[lovedrruunk]

It would be so cool if you could write a venture x reader where Y/N is too nervous to speak to Venture so Mercy wingmans for them‼️

‘The best wingwoman ! ଘ(˵╹ᴗ╹)━☆

Venture (Overwatch) x GN reader

Authors note!; super cute request!!! Did I tell u guys I'm a mercy main…. DISGUSTING I KNOW!! But I also main Ana so it cancels out… also tbh there’s a lot of requests that I haven’t gotten to *YET* simply bc idk how to go about them :( but this one came to me rlly easily !! Ty!!! also finished this whole thing while listening to phantom of the opera on repeat for 2 hours (i need 2 write a moira fic omg...) UPDATE: HELLO??? THE MERCY MYTHIC? okok ill stfu now sry!!

Earlier today, you were dragged to a work party by your colleague and guardian angel, Angela Ziegler. You begged her to let you stay home, but she refused, saying she wouldn't be able to go without you since you were the only coworker she actually enjoyed spending time with. And so, being the amazing friend you are, of course, you agreed to go to keep her company!... Just kidding!

Angela knew you too well. Once she mentioned that the cutie from the Wayfinder Society was attending, you did a complete 180, now asking her what you should wear. She couldn't help but laugh at your reaction, amused at how predictable you were when it came to romance.

Sloane Cameron, also known as Venture, also known as the cutie from the Wayfinder Society, had quickly captured your attention ever since you first met them a couple of months ago when the Wayfinder Society was adopted by Overwatch as a sub-branch. Being the head anthropologist for Overwatch led you to spending a good amount of time with Venture and their team. Granted, it was just work and sharing data and all that, but you couldn't help but find them super intriguing. They were funny, lively, and so passionate about their work! But as badly as you wanted to get to know them, you just couldn't. Their confidence was a blessing and a curse, being the cause of why you liked them and the cause of why you were so terrified of talking to them.

Every week or so, you and Angela meet up at the cafeteria at Overwatch's headquarters to catch up while drinking your morning coffee/tea/whatever, which you of course just use as time to gush about your overwhelming crush on your new coworker. But last week... last week, you had decided enough was enough. You made a promise to Angela that by next week, you would at least ask them if they'd want to hang out outside of work. Feeling pumped and confident, you had excitedly gotten all dolled up for the party.

And now, here you were. The party was in an old Victorian mansion with lots of expensive art and chandeliers, nothing less for Overwatch, of course. The first time you had attended a work party, you were extremely underdressed, assuming it was a casual get-together, not at all expecting it to be an elegant and serious "ball" like party. You cringed at the memory before Angela snapped you out of it, handing you a glass of champagne.

"So? Is today the day?" she questions as she leans against the back wall you had been standing next to.

"I don't know, Angela..." you whined as you not so discreetly stared at them from across the room.

It was the first time you had seen them in formal attire, and you couldn’t help but admire how they looked good in everything.

"Go ask them to dance!" She suggested happily.

"What!? No way! I can't dance, especially not with them!"

“Oh, don't give me that! The worst they could say is no."

"'No' is definitely not the worst they could say. They could say 'get away from me' or 'why are you talking to me about something other than rocks' or 'your foundation doesn't match your neck.. and no I would rather drop dead than dance with you'."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"I'm serious!- Wait!! Did you see that? They smiled at the new rookie! What if they like her!? What if they came here together!? What if they're dating!? Married!!? Oh my god, and now they're chatting it up with Tiff from communications! They're laughing, what's so funny!?"

"You have got to be kidding me..."

"Right!? She's not even funnier than me..."

Catching you off guard, Angela grips your shoulders, forcing you to face her.

"Shut up," she says sternly, fighting off the urge to smack you in the face. "Just ask them. You'll never know until you do... And if you don't, I owe that infuriating geneticist twenty bucks..." She murmurs the last part to herself angrily.

"Y'know what? You're right!"

You quickly finish the glass of champagne, putting it on the table next to you. Feeling encouraged by your friend, you take a deep breath before marching towards Venture... right before turning your heel and marching straight back to Angela.

"I feel like I'm gonna throw up..."

"You haven't even said anything!!!"

After a bit of back and forth, Angela is fed up and tells you that if you weren't going to do anything about it, then she will.

As she makes her way towards Venture, you whisper yell at her, begging her to come back and let you give it another try. But knowing you, she decides to ignore your desperate pleas as she continues to happily strut towards them.

From the distance, you can't make out what they're talking about, and it's driving you nuts. Angela's back is facing you, but Venture's face lights up, so you decide to take that as a good sign. And just as you start to smile... Angela turns around and points at you.

You freeze in place for what felt like a year before your eyes focus again. Venture is grinning as they wave to you, and Angela uses her hand to call you over. You force a wide smile (not aware of how crazy you look) as you timidly walk up to the two of them.

"Y/N! I was just mentioning to our sweet Cameron over here how you love to dance! They've never been to a party like this, isn't that crazy!"

"Yeah!! Wayfinder never had the funding by itself to afford something like this! I've never really had a reason to learn how to dance, so I have no clue; was hoping you could teach me!?"

"Me? Oh, sorry! I don't know how to dance!"

"But... Dr. Ziegler just said.."

"I know! Poor little Angie... ever since her last birthday, her memory has been terrible!! Must've confused me with Lena!"

You could feel the death glare Angela was giving you, but you continued to smile innocently at them.

"Well... I guess this would be a good opportunity for us to learn, don't ‘cha think?" Of course. Of course, they would somehow find a solution to your excuse.

"Great idea!!" Angela claps her hands together happily. "Why don't you two head to the dance floor? You'll only learn from experience!"

"I agree!"

Before you can say anything, you're dragged by the hand of a very excited Venture, and although your palms are sweaty and your head is spinning, you can't help but feel so much excitement.

. . .

And so as the dancefloor clears and the two of you are making your way out to the gardens, you spot a grinning Angela and a scowling Moira putting away her wallet.

[daintev]

Finished watching Pride & Prejudice

I've just completed the 1995 series of Pride & Prejudice and OMG I LOVED IT!!! Best show ever, I thoroughly enjoyed it. I didn’t think I would at first but I loved it! I get why people adore it now, it’s seriously good! I highly recommend it!

I wrote down my reactions in a document for funsies and thought it would be fun to share here! I did write an ungodly amount (1320 words to be exact) so, be prepared.

Start date of first time watch through: 7th Feb 2025

I LOVE PRIDE AND PREJUDICE!!! I’ve just finished episode 3, LIZZY IS FUMBLING A BADDIE!! Omg, then Darcy started getting defensive again and arguing back at her. I get it now, I understand why people love Pride & Prejudice.

Onto episode 4:

Lizzy is NOT subtle, the way she looks at Darcy with just the wet shirt on, she HELD her gaze on him. SHE AIN’T SLICK!! To be honest me too girl, Colin Firth the man that you are <3

Oh my goddddd they want each other so bad it makes me ill but, like, in a good way.

HE’S SO CUTE. Wow, who said that? That’s crazy. GOD, HE’S SO HOT. WOAHHHH who said that?? It must’ve been the wind.

Darcy is being a little less of a prick, he’s taken what Lizzy has said into account. He’s being all friendly and nice! Colin Firth does a great job at portraying this in his facial expressions and general attitude change as well.

Onto episode 5:

DARCY THE MAN THAT YOU ARE OML, his sister, Georgiana, told Lizzy that Darcy talked about how he loves to hear her sing and play the piano; LIKE?? He’s so smitten about her, not a hint of subtlety from him anymore. HOLY SHIT THE WAY HE’S LOOKING AT HER WHILST SHE SINGS OH MY GOD!!! HIS SMILE DUDE, THE SMILE!!

Guys, when is it my turn for someone to be equally as in love with me as Darcy is with Lizzy? Ooooooh Caroline brought up Wickham, the drama!! But more importantly, the way Lizzy and Darcy look at each other: the longing looks are what really get to me. Also the way they wait a little longer as one or the other is leaving is enough to drive a man crazy, it’s me, I am that man.

Caroline and Hurst are stirring the pot again, “How ill Eliza Bennet looked this evening” Wild, absolutely wild.

CAROLINE COMING OUT SWINGING WITH “For my part, I must confess, I never saw any beauty in her face. Her features are not at all handsome, her complexion has no brilliancy” WHAT THE HELL?? She’s just shooting left and right, now mentioning the time Darcy had said the same, she’s trynna stir a reaction out of him so badly. Oh, she lives for the drama.

DARCY WITH THE METAL CHAIR “Yes I did. That was only when I first knew her, which has been many months now since I have considered her the most handsome woman of my acquaintance” GAGGED, he got her good.

LYDIA IS RUNNING OFF TO SCOTLAND WITH WITH WICKHAM??? Wait Kitty knows something about it, she wasn’t shocked by the news! NOW WICKMAN DIDN’T PLAN TO MARRY LYDIA?? They’re not getting married at all, well unbeknownst to Lydia.

Darcy our good man came by just in time to help and comfort Lizzy, very sweet <3

Ohhhhh, she told him about Lydia and Wickham. NO! She’s blaming herself for it since she knew of Wickham’s character. Now her family's reputation is in the shitter “I have stayed too long, I shall leave you now” DARCY NO, YOU IDIOT!!!

“I shall never see him again” Yes you will! He’s too in love for that to be the case, LET GO OF YOUR PRIDE! (omg it’s almost like that’s the whole point of the plot)

POINT PROVEN: The reaction he had when Caroline brought it up, he just went “What?!” then got up and left, he wasn’t having any of that.

Aww Jane’s blaming herself for what has happened with Lydia as well :( 

“He was very kind, very gentle-men-like. But he made it very clear he wanted nothing more than to be out of my sight” LIES, I mean yeah he is being a little prideful but he never outright said it, he’ll come back.

Man fuck Collins, bitch walks up in their house, condescending to them “Oh em gee so sorry your family reputation sucks due to your sister, but now Lady whats-her-face don’t really wanna associate with you, yeaaaah” Lizzy was valid in convincing him to leave early.

Wait!! Has Darcy gone looking for Wickham and Lydia? It seems so.

HE IS!!! Lydia spotted him from the window! I knew Darcy wouldn’t just stop seeing Elizabeth, he went out looking for her sister because he didn’t want to stop seeing her. I mean he could of regardless but I do suppose reputation was a big part of the 19th century.

Their uncle has sent a letter; WICKHAM AND LYDIA ARE GETTING MARRIED?? And Wickman is doing so for little money? Something must’ve taken place for such to happen.

“I cannot bear to think he is alive in the world…and thinking ill of me” Oh Lizzy, he could never.

Onto episode 6:

The uncle must’ve paid Wickman to wed Lydia, of course, he wasn’t going to without a great deal of money. 

DARCY IS AT THE WEDDING!? He must’ve been involved in getting Wickham to marry Lydia! 

Lydia is back at her family's house and she lets slip that Mr.Darcy was at the wedding, it was meant to be a secret. WAIT! So Darcy paid Wickham instead of the Uncle! He took the blame and responsibility for not letting Wickham's character be known.

It seems Elizabeth and Wickham have made up. Mr Bingley is back, surely that can only mean Darcy is as well.

I WAS RIGHT, DARCY IS BACK!!! The look on Lizzy’s face when she hears he’s here as well is priceless. They cannot stop looking at each other the moment Darcy steps foot in the room.

Aw, Darcy is apologising to Mr Bingley for not letting him know Jane was in London at the same time as him, character development baby!

Mr Bingley has confessed his love for Jane again and she’s well thrilled about it, good for them.

LADY CATHRINE JUST PULLED UP WTF?? Oh, she knows about Darcy’s confession of love to Lizzy or at least she wants Lizzy to confess it is as truth. OH, She doesn’t want them to get together! FUCK THAT NOISE, GET HITCHED!!!

God damn Lady Cathrine REALLY doesn’t want them to be together, she describes Elizabeth’s family as a disgrace and it would be so if they were to be allianced due to their lack of connections and little fortune.

LIZZY GAGGED HER THOUGH, OH MY LORD, Ladyship wanted her to promise she wouldn’t be engaged to Darcy but she shut her down fast.

Yet Darcy still comes with Mr Bingley to visit, his ass does not care what Lady Cathrine thinks.

“If you will thank me, let it be for yourself alone. Your family owes me nothing. Much as I respect them I believe I thought only of you” HELL YEAH!!! The smile on Lizzy’s face when he says that, she looks so pleased <3

He’s confessing his love again, HOLLLLLLLLY she said she regrets what she said back when he first confessed “My feelings are so different. In fact, they are quite the opposite” WE’RE SO BACK!!!! He’s apologising for his previous behaviour towards her, it’s actually really sweet, he’s reflecting and recognizing his actions in the past and how Lizzy has helped him realise that.

“Dearest, loveliest, Elizabeth” MY HEART! OH MY GOD, HOLY SHIT, OH MY LORD THEY’RE ENGAGED!! FINALLY!!!!!

“I didn’t always love him, but I love him now so ever dearly. He is truly the best man I have ever known” MY HEART IS RACING THIS IS SO ADORABLE!!! <333

THEY’RE OFFICIALLY MARRIED!!!!

LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! THEY KISSED!!!!!!! I AM OVER THE MOON!!!

Best show ever oh my god, I thoroughly enjoyed that. I didn’t think I would at first but I loved it! I get why people adore it now, it’s seriously good! I highly recommend it!

Finished date: 9th Feb 2025

[aiceofspades]

don't smile | ex!anakin x f!reader

headers: @strangergraphics-archive

pairings: ex!anakin x f!reader

warnings: really angst, fluff??

word count: 2010

authors note: yo yo yo yall this was lowkey a stream of consciousness i wrote this on the bus and i was so scared someone was looking over my shoulder and this is definitely inspired by don't smile by sabrina carpenter anyways enjoy <{•_•}>

masterlist here!!

anakin was supposed to think about you everytime he held padmé, but did he? you would never know. he never talked to you anymore, just simple thank yous here and there if you held the door open for him.

of course, you always liked to think that he expected you to be angry, but were you? you didn’t even know yourself, but since you never worked up the courage to talk to him, and he never realised you had unfinished business with each other, he would never realise you weren’t angry either. you also weren't popular and you didn't force your daily opinions on other people, like padmé did, so no one was bound to notice if you were angry or not. god, you hated padmé. but you also loved her, in the way that you wanted to be everything she was, but only platonically, if that makes sense.

there was something about her demeanour that took your breath away. now, you were publicly bisexual, so people didn't bat an eye when you stared at her before you and anakin got together, as they assumed you had a crush on her. but if you so much as glanced her way now, people would assume you wanted anakin back and you were jealous of them.

don't smile because it happened, baby

smile because it's over

you frowned as you heard the song lyrics come through your wired earphones in the middle of the Coruscant U library. it was so relatable, and it almost made you cry when you applied it to yourself. you always thought it was cheesy when people said that their lover was their whole world, but it just so happened that you thought that about anakin.

you shook your head slightly, picking your pencil up to sketch a quick drawing of a simple harmonic system from your previous physics class, where you had to endure two full hours next to anakin.

all you smelt was that stupid aftershave that you once bought for him as a christmas present, and all you saw was his gorgeous figure from out of your peripheral. it was like living a hell.

you sighed and again tried to focus on your sketch, but the lyrics of the song came flooding into your ears again.

i want one of them to take my phone

take my phone and lose your

number, i don't wanna be tempted

well, the next hour in the library was going to be difficult.

an hour later, the same song drifted through your earphones. not again.

this time, you couldn't help but to bite your bottom lip in the hope that the tears forming at your eyes would disappear. it didn't work, and one drop slowly rolled down your cheek.

you didn't want to cry in the library, but it's not like anyone cared. they didn't pay enough attention to you. you weren't popular.

you grabbed a tissue from your pocket that you conveniently had since you had a cold, and you used it to dab at your eyes. your breath became shorter and shorter until you were basically hyperventilating in your library chair.

your tissue became useless due to the amount of tears that were pouring out of your eyes. thank god you were in a small corner where no one could see you.

but someone saw you.

unbeknownst to you, anakin was also supposed to be doing his physics homework, but he got distracted when he noticed you with your headphones in doing your work. then he saw you get the tissue out and he noticed when your shoulders began to shake. he oh so badly wanted to go and take you back to his apartment and cuddle you until you fell asleep. but he was with padmé now, and may he state that it was the biggest mistake of his life to break up with you and use her as a rebound.

to be honest, he didn't think of padmé as anything more than a rebound, which was bad of him to think, but it was true. he wanted to go back to his old ways, but he couldn't. he was sure that you hated him now, and partly, it was true.

you hated how he was your whole world.

but, he watched you struggle to keep the tears in 10 metres away from where he was sat in silence. he should have stood up and given you another tissue, but he didn't. you wouldn't have accepted it. instead, you would have slapped him or said something profane.

he watched as you shoved your books and your singular pencil into your satchel before grabbing your useless tissue and walking out of the library with your head down. not that anyone was looking.

he should have followed you, but thankfully, your apartment buildings were next to each other, and your bedrooms looked into each others. this, however, reminded anakin of the time he’d brought padmé back to his bedroom to have sex since his roommate was out studying. he momentarily forgot that you would see everything, but as he was kissing padmé, he caught your reflection through the window in a mirror he had on the wall. you looked heartbroken, to say the least.

he never had sex with padmé ever again, just to be sure, but as you glanced out of the window at them that day, you found yourself remembering all the times when anakin kissed you like that. it was heartbreaking, to say the least.

anakin wanted to follow you home and say everything he needed to say, but he know that you would go home and just cry. if you did that, then he could torture himself all night long by watching you sob the night away in your dingy little room that hasn’t seen the light of day or another human being since anakin called it off. it was his fault you were crying, after all.

he knew he needed the torture. he couldn’t live with himself if he knew you were crying all alone and didn’t hurt himself with the sight. he had to, he needed to. it was his indirect way of apologising.

but anyway, he watched you walk out of the library before waiting 5 minutes and following you.

he didn’t see you though, as you were sat on a bench outside of the library. you had a feeling he would follow you when you caught a glimpse of him as you rushed out. you were right.

you watched him stride across the campus, trying to look for you. internally, you were angry at him. he should just leave me alone, you thought, the tears now slowing down and your shoulders stilling. but as you thought that, you immediately felt bad. he still cared for you as he came to look for you after he'd noticed you crying in the library.

he still cared, that was all that mattered.

he was still in eyesight, so you jumped up, threw you satchel over your body, and ran to where he was nearly by the apartment buildings. the clouds above were closing in and the sun was setting. i shouldn't be out any later, you thought as the new darkness in the sky reminded you of some stories you had heard from friends in other classes about girls who stayed out too late. this also reminded you of when anakin used to swear on his family's life that he would protect you.

"that's a brave swear on your family's life," you used to say in response.

he used to reply, "well, i know that no harm will come to you if i'm nearby, and so no harm will come to them either. but you're also my family now."

you wondered if he told the same thing to padmé.

you came within distance behind him to hear his heavy footfalls as he glanced right and left for any sign of him, but you faltered. what would you say? anakin, hey, it's been a while? no. anakin, i hate you for what you did? no. anakin, it's me? yeah, that would have to do.

"anakin, it's me."

he whipped around. those were the first words you'd spoken to him in four months. it had taken him a month to find padmé.

in his wisdom, he stood with his mouth hanging open. "you're there," he said. and those were his first words.

"uh, yeah. i don't want to assume or anything, but i was sat on the bench outside. i saw you storm past."

"you aren't assuming, i was coming to find you. i don't know why but i just... didn't want to see you crying anymore. that's all you've been doing for the past two months since i found- since i found padmé."

your face must have fallen when he mentioned her name as he immediately reconciled.

"uh, this isn't about her. i just want you to stop crying. it's torturing me, and i know that i'm the reason why."

usually, you would have hit back with a snarky but jokey line, like, "bold of you to assume," but you couldn't. you just couldn't.

instead tears began forming yet again as the sight of him in front of you finally set in, and you pushed past anakin to the apartment building. you pushed past ashoka when you got to the apartment, and something on her face told you she understood why.

after slamming your door shut behind you, you dropped your bag on the floor and curled up on your rug.

you didn't even have the strength to get on the bed.

after 5 minutes of crying your heart out, your door creaked open. big hand grabbed at your waist but you squeezed your eyes shut, blinking the tears away. someone sat you upright, but you refused to look, you didn't want it to be true.

"baby, i need you to open your eyes for me, okay?" anakin, oh god.

you refused again, but he pulled you forward so you were laying on his chest.

"it's okay," he whispered. "take your time."

"i don't know- why i hate you so much," you sobbed out, staining his shirt.

"it's okay, i feel the same way."

"you do?" you craned your head up at this, finally opening his eyes.

"yes," he said, rubbing your back, the way you told him your mother used to do it when you were crying. he knew you too well and it made you angry. "i hate you so much that i'm in love with you all over again. i don't know why either. s'okay, baby."

"stop calling me baby, i hate it," you said, resting your head against his chest again.

"no, you don't," he simply said. you didn't, not really, you just hated how vulnerable you were just like you were four months ago.

"will you swear to protect me?" you asked.

"on my family, yes. always, Y/N, always. it's always gonna be you. it was never padmé, it will never be her. i'm sorry for having sex with her whilst you were in your room, but the truth is, all i could think about during it was how we used to do it. as i came, i thought about you and only you. i couldn't face padmé without being embarrassed and she couldn't understand why."

"all this time..." you said.

"all this time," he said, grabbing your face. "it's been you. i don't know why i ended it, i was being stupid. but i want another go at us, please."

you nodded, wiping at your cheeks. he brought you in close and pecked your lips, smiling. "how about we get you off this rug and onto your bed?"

he picked you up with his strong arms and big hands and laid you in the bed, under your covers.

"join," you said, patting the space next to you. he joined you immediately, wrapping his arms around you from behind and nuzzling into you like a routine - like you'd never been apart.

"what about her? padmé?" you asked.

"i think she knows she's not the one. i think she's always known."

and then he snuggled into you, like it was any other night.

[microwavesaferat]

I'm so unexcited for the Christopher Nolan Odyssey Film.

There's so many things I'm just dreading, like as a mythology buff (admittedly, not an expert, just a bit of a special interest), I'm gonna lose it if a film guy starts mansplaining about Homeric hymns to me. Like, keep talking about how the suitors were actually doing what was right for the time and I will kick you in your shriveled nutsack.

I also saw the cast list and nearly shed a tear. They all have fucking iPhone face. I'm sorry, Tom Holland as Telemachus (potentially)???? Like, oh it's so sad your dad is missing and stuff, but did you remember to take your ozempic today? Like all the cast have iPhone face. Unless this is gonna be a weird modern retelling (which also worries me), I won't be able to imagine Zendaya as Athena (potentially) without her whipping out a Google pixel to text Zeus.

I was talking to people and we ended up making our own cast list of some of the major roles.

Cast List

Odysseus - Antonia Banderas

My mother saw him in Paddington 3 and has instructed me to include him as he is, in her words, "fit". In my opinion, someone like Liam Neeson, Mads Mikelson or Michael Fassbender. I just don't want a poorly disguised American accent. Like I get you might not get a Greek actor or even one with a similar accent, but please not a straight American accent or badly done accent.

Penelope - Michelle Yeoh

Nolan is rumoured to have cast Anne Hathaway, which I am also kind of fine with, so I'm not too worried about that. I think Michelle would be great as a cunning, loyal wife to Odysseus and I also think she could channel a great amount of contempt towards the suitors. I never find Anne Hathaway to be convincingly angry in scenes, distraught and afraid, yes, but I think Michelle could really embody that disgust Penelope has.

Athena - Cate Blanchet

I think Athena needs to be played by an older actor. I get the Gods are ageless, but she needs to give the appearance of wisdom and I think Cate Blanchet always looks like she's planning and thinking. The issue with Zendaya is not just that she has iPhone face, but she is too young. Your mind immediately says that she's too young to be that wise. It's a trait commonly associated with older people as it relates to experience, and Zendaya just doesn't look experienced.

Poiseiden - Gerard Butler

Hear me out, I think the Gods (other than Athena) should only appear in voice and not in person. For the scale of things, an actor floating in the air with cgi waves doesn't really look that menacing in the scale of things, especially compared to 50 boats. And I don't want a big cgi water monster thing either. I think the voice should carry on the waves, a shout accompanied by a crash of water, the temper rising as does the waves. I think it's more threatening to hear his voice booming as the boat is rocked, there's a fear of pissing him off more cause, if he gets much louder, you might just capsize. My mother wanted to also say, in a perfect world, it would actually be Billy Connolly, but he hasn't acted in years now due to Parkinson's. The rumour is that Nolan has cast Robert Pattinson and, while he was threatening as the Batman, I don't think it's the right kind of threatening required for the role. If he was doing this as a voice acting role, maybe, we know he has amazing range from the Boy and the Heron.

Zues - Patrick Page

Listen to Little Songbird or Hellfire and tell me he doesn't sound like Thunder. Moving on.

Circe - Nicole Kidman

Circe is a complex character and I think she needs to be portrayed that way. I don't want a young actor who beguiles older Odysseus with her youth. I need Circe to have that wisdom and experience that Penelope also has. I think it could be an interesting idea to even have them played by the same person. This all depends on how close the movie will be to the original epic anyway. My main stipulation is that she needs to remind Odysseus of Penelope.

Calypso - Lupita Nyong'o

The articles I've read actually suggest her as Circe, which I wouldn't mind either, I just wanted someone older for Circe. I think Calypso is also a complex character that must be portrayed as such. Essentially I think Lupita would be able to embody both the woman madly in love with Odysseus and also the Goddess keeping him here for her entertainment. From seeing her in Us, I know she has an amazing range and is able to show the threatening side to Calypso required. It doesn't work if it seems like Odysseus has the upper hand at any point.

Telemachus - Thomas Brodie Sangster

I really struggled here cause a lot of young actors look too modern for a lot of period pieces. It's also important that Telemachus isn't some chiseled, huge guy. I also think, given we would probably check in on him multiple times during the movie, Thomas is good at looking young and old at the same time. Another option would maybe be Joe Locke.

This post is long already so I'm not doing the rest of the characters. I have nothing against the actors Nolan has gone with, I just don't think they fit well. I'm also heavily biased from listening to Epic and Hadestown a lot.

Lmk your suggestions, as always, these are just my thoughts and a lot of them aren't even well thought out.

[rednexxsaysthing]

So, I watched a 3hr playthrough of Mouthwashing

Here's my thoughts!

(Also- HUGE thanks to @chillenby , @oll13v3r , @max-1mum !!)

Spoiler warnings and the following trigger warnings: Rape, suicide, severe injuries, lots of death, pills, ship crash, gun, and so much more

♡ ·˚ ₊˚ˑ༄ؘGeneral Opinion✎ (❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) ༉‧ ♡*.✧

This game is very well written and gave me such big Sally Face vibes. I watched Slimccl's VOD of him playing it and so it definitely helped me not freak the fuck out. I was SO SAD when Daisuke died cuz he never even got the chance to figure himself out :(

I related to Anya and Daisuke heavily, and lowkey Swansea joined my gigantic collection of fictional father figures. I really liked the art and the entire idea of something so simple as mouthwash becoming such a batshit wild scenario. Anywhizzle, onwards!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚Anya˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀

God I felt so bad for her. I also really, really related to her. I had my own issues with sexual assault and then tried to "commit die" with pills afterwards (I'm much healthier and happier now). She made me feel terrible for her and she deserved so, so much better. Unfortunately, that's all I've really got for her.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥCurly. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

I felt bad for him, really liked him, and also fucking hated him all at the same time. I felt bad for him for obvious reasons, but especially like, imagine the amount of pain he must've been in without even being able to convey it. At that point I'd either start biting people or beg them to kill me somehow. I really liked him because, I mean, c'mon. Before the whole Jexual Jassaulter thing he was pretty neat. I hated him because as a victim of SA I hated seeing Jimmy not get treated like shit after what he did to Anya. The least he could've done was protect her.

ೋღ 🌺Daisuke✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

God this poor kid. The one scene where he was drinking the mouthwash on the floor and just in despair CRUSHED ME. It was so unfair what happened to him :( I wanted to give him and Anya hugs so fucking badly. I hate Jimmy for manipulating him, especially since Daisuke never mentions his dad which hints at him having daddy issues of some kind, and seeking validation from men (at least as someone with daddy issues, I do). God, it was all just so sad.

Jimmy.

FUCK THIS GUY I HATE HIM SO MUCH OH MY FUCKING GOD IM SO GLAD THAT HE DIED IN THE END BECAUSE IF HE HADN'T I WOULD'VE FUCKING KILLED HIM MYSELF HE MADE ME EXPERIENCE RAGE BEYOND ANY COMPREHENSION I HATE THIS BASTARD OH MY GOD HE DESERVES ANY SHITTY THING HE EVER WENT THROUGH, IN FACT I HOPE IN THE AFTERLIFE HE GOES TO HELL AND HAS TO RELIVE EVERY TRAUMATIC EVENT HE EVER CAUSED SOMEONE BUT AS HIMSELF.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.Swansea☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Silly old man <3 Google says he's the villain of the story?? Huh?? How?? I mean, I get he killed Daisuke, but it was with good intentions. He was a little hard on him too, but that's just a classic mentor/mentee relationship. So, yeah. I don't understand how Jizzy isn't the villain. How is the old man who at worst killed someone to put them out of pain (and didn't feel good about it either, he acts different for the rest of the game) the villain, and not the literal rapist?? Idk man

Thanks for coming to my TED talk <3

[hyog-blog]

Fangs of Fortune (ep.03 - ep.05)

Oh god, where do I start? Everyone has become less stabby now, but mildly insulting each other seems to be the new form of flirting (between, like, everyone?). Okay, between the Zhuo Yichen - Zhu Yan - Wen Xiao trio for sure. I'm seeing you, guys, you don't have to be so obvious about it XD

That flirtatious contract-signing procedure with Wen Xiao, and Zhu Yan calling Yichen 'better than a dog', and Wen Xiao calling demons 'pets', and then Zhu Yan offering her to become one. I mean come on XD

"Here's some free demonic energy, so you can easily kill me later." Is this romantic or what? XD The kind of demonic romance this show seems to be excelling at. Manly healing handholding - check ✔

Also, Li Lun appears out of the darkness with the broodiness of an ex who was left behind by Zhu Yan after giving birth to the Wilderness after doing some powerful wibbly wobbly timey wimey demonic magic stuff (supposedly, he was ditched for a woman, now dead, who was supposedly killed by Li Lun, now imprisoned). And now the poor guy has to compete with yet another pretty woman and an even prettier young man.

I mean, Li Lun, brother, I get it, Zhu Yan is a babe, but killing off your ex's friends and lovers won't make him like you more, that's just not how things work. And judging by the fact that Li Lun got all chained up in some cave, he probably messed up badly. Killed the previous Bai Ze Goddess? Or did something equally un-cool.

Our gorgeous Zhu Yan is a walking and talking Red Flag, although, the kind you want to wrap around yourself and never let go. I mean, how do they manage to withstand his demonic charm? I seriously have no idea)))

Hou Minghao had a serious demonic glow-up. I loved him as a dragon in Back from the Brink (where he was equal parts cute and beautiful), but this regal demonic deity he's channeling here is just wow. Where did all that come from? And once again, it's paired with a decent amount of creepy-ish cuteness (like, it's slightly weird to call a many-thousand-year-old powerful demon lord cute, but he's also not not cute, you know what I mean? XD)

And god bless all the sponsors who made all these pretty fantasy fights possible (the post-production team, I'm looking at you). Also the quality of the picture is incredibly good - everything is so movie-like, I can't even imagine the budget that went into this. But I'm glad they had it!

The vibe of the show is so, ah XD I can't even say it's queer, but it kind of is? With a possibility of multiple polycules wherever you look (or maybe it's just me and my mind playing tricks, but I'm enjoying this to the fullest).

And the way Yichen sneezes every time someone (Zhu Yan especially) is talking about him XD So cute. Bai Jiu is hilarious - screaming like the girliest girl at every prospect of danger and fainting at the sight of dead bodies. The most believable 13-year-old in the history of cdrama)))

I'm loving all the characters so far and patiently waiting for the tragedy of the death of the previous Bai Ze goddess to fully unfold (Wen Xiao's memories hint at more upcoming drama with Zhu Yan).

[luvsdive]

i wanna talk about painslut kim chaewon and none of u will shut me up about it! kim chaewon who begs you to go harder, please, who is pretty much incapable of orgasming unless the scales of pain and pleasure are completely even, who whines that she can't feel anything if you're anything less than hard enough to bruise.

chaewon who chooses the biggest possible toy, who waits in your bed so naked and sweet, dainty fingers toying with her pussy lips, already wet with just the anticipation of what's going to happen once you find her. by now, you've got her totally convinced that no one can make it hurt like you do, no one can make her feel the ache deep in her belly for days afterwards like you do. and that's exactly what she tells you when you walk in the room, "please mommy, no one fucks me hard like you do. please i need it so badly, please!" she whines, naked body withering around the sheets as she looks up at you, puppy dog eyes teary with desire. and really, who are you to deny kim chaewon of any of her desires?

painslut chaewonie who hates being prepped, who turns her holes towards you with wiggling hips and pouty lips as she begs you to just do it, please! bucking backwards to try and impale herself in the thick, rubber head of the huge dildo she specifically chose for this occasion, but lettting out a loud, pained squeak as soon as she feels the head of the dildo invade her with no further preamble from you. it feels like being split open in two, and she loves it so much, the loud cry of pain shifting so seamlessly into an aroused moan as you barely give her a moment to adjust before settling in a slow, deep, painful rhythm. her face is pressed against the sheets, hands reaching backwards towards you desperately, in an attempt to either pull you closer or get you away from her, but at this point, with how loud she's gotten, you're pretty sure about which one is the answer.

with each heavy slap you decide to lay on her ass, a sobbed plea for more claws its way up her throat, the initially excrutiating pain of being ripped apart turning into the sweet stinging of being stuffed full. chaewon feels the toy everywhere inside her, stretching her open and hitting every sensitive spot there is lining her walls. it's no surprise to you that it doesn't take long to get her begging you to please, please, make me come, oh my god, please! and really, who would deny chaewonie anything her little horny heart desires? definitely not you.

and as you pull your little painslut up by the hair, her warm, sweaty back flush against your front, cries reaching an impossibly higher pitch as the toy reaches her deeper than she ever thought it would be possible, hands searching for anything to ground her as she tries to rock back against you, you have the most untimely thought that she might have some trouble with her rehearsals tomorrow. and then you reach out towards her, nails raking over the feverish skin of her navel and downwards... down, down, down until you your fingers reach her folds, slippery with arousal and so, so sensitive, enough to earn a squealed moan out of chaewon's chapped lips as her hips buck into your hand.

"chaewonie, you want to cum?" you ask, mouthing your way up from the back of her neck and biting down harshly on her earlobe. her words come out garbled, a mix of nonsensical noises and an endless amount pleading, tears dripping from the corners of her eyes as she begs for her release. feeling partially benevolent after watching her fall apart so easily, the hand that has been teasing her folds so far searches for her clit, the little bundle feeling puffy and warm with chaewon's arousal, and you rub it between your index and thumb, giving her a few seconds of that sweet pleasure, before you pinch it. hard. and you don't let go, not even as the back of her head smacks against your shoulder harshly, as her whining and pleading turns into a full blown scream, pained and animalistic, as her eyes roll to the back of her head and clear liquid gushes out of her in a squirted orgasm, hips still thrusting inside her and fingers keeping the painful grip on her clit, just the way chaewon loves it.

and if it takes a few days for her to start walking again without a limp, nevermind dancing, she knows it was worth it.

[tremzr]

Dreaming ☆

WARNING • contains smut [18+], top!ellie, bottom!reader, praise, oral (r rec), fingering (r rec), thigh riding, and wtv tf else idk guys js read it 😜

A/N: so this is my first story my bad if it’s not good and might have forgotten some things in the warning so very sorry if something throws you off!

“Fuck Ellie.” You whispered in her ear. Filling the room with moans as you felt her fingers go deeper inside you as her other hand slowly went up and down from your stomach to your breast fondoling your nipple between her finger tips.

“oh baby your so wet.” Ellie said before licking up all the juices that were smeared over your cunt tasting all of you. She loved the thought that she can make a beautiful girl like you feel so amazing with her hands and her tongue.

As Ellie slipped her tongue into your whole, making you let out a loud moan that filled the quiet room. You felt your peak coming closer, Ellie could tell by the way your legs and torso were shaking from the amount of pleasure. “You okay baby?”

“Fuck El-Please. I’m so close” You whined in pleasure. You wanted more of her. You needed her. Right as you feel yourself come to your release you feel Ellie stop everything she’s doing and kisses your cunt.

“Oh my god Ellie, really? I was so cl-“ you whine as you get cutoff by a loud bang.

“WAKE UP, WERE LATE AGAIN.” Dina yelled in your ear making you sit up and jump out of bed.

“Oh fuck fuck fuck fuckkk” You said under your breathe trying to hurry and put your outfit together and your makeup. It was a fucking dream. Again. This happened sometimes in the past, but now those dreams started to come up more. All with the schools well-known player, Ellie Williams.

You wanted to be with her so badly but there was no way she would talk to someone like you. Ellie is the stereotypical bad girl that obviously dresses all tomboy. Doesn’t pay attention in class. All of that.

Your the complete opposite. You’re the girl to wear mini skirts and get straight A’s, the type of innocent shy girl. Yeah you and Ellie have talked before but never like that. You always wanted too but never made the move. You always second guessed yourself about making a move and think she would never want to date someone like you.

And nothing would make her want to actually make a move and fuck you how you always wanted to be fucked by THE ELLIE WILLIAMS. You’ve wanted too for so long. You’d just wish something would have happened over the 2 years of liking her.

You just wanted her to talk to her you without her being a dickwad to you, But you knew that was never gunna happen. I mean of course you had a huge crush on her since sophomore year but she had always been a bitch saying slick comments.

She never missed an opportunity of saying something that just ticked you off. Whether your skirt was too tight or your boobs were showing too much.

If your hair was in a mess or your hair was nice and curled. what always threw you off though is how she would get whenever she would see you with another girl.

But then again you would see her 10 minutes later on the side of the stairs making out with another girl. You have always tried pushing that crush away but it never seemed to ever go away. And it fucking sucked.

“Hey girl you okay?” Dina asked concerned for you while rushing with her to class. You thought about it for a second and just smiled and nodded your head trying not to look at her. “oh shittt, it’s Ellie again huh?”

“WHAT NO BE QUIET.” You said in a low voice trying not to make it obvious that you two were talking about Ellie.

“mmm, well speaking of the devil!” Dina looks to the side of you.

“Thinking about me pretty girl?” Ellie says teasing you. When she said that your heart stopped. Her calling you pretty girl made you melt. But whatever you did you could not make her know that. “In your dreams, you wish you can handle this.”

Ellie laughed at the fact and continued to walk into class with you. In fact, Ellie did. She has always wanted you, she just never knew if she could get you by yourself let alone want to be with her since your the little innocent girl.

The dress she saw you in today absolutely made Ellie’s heart race. The way it showed all your curves and outlined your body figure, the way your v-neck showed off your cleavage. She loved it.

“So babe what have you been up to?” Who the hell is she talking too and who the fuck is she calling babe. “Hellooo, you with me?” Ellie said again putting her hand on your thigh trying to get your attention.

“Yeah sorry El’s, just stressed about this chem test.” You notice her hand on your thigh and your heart drops. Oh my god.

“Well…I can help with that if.” Ellie whispers into your ear slowly sliding her hand further up making you let out a small yelp. “That’s of course if you want me too pretty.”

Ellie knew you had a crush on her, it was so obvious to her but you never knew you had made it obvious enough. She knew it was a time to make a move after 2 years of you drooling over her.

She slowly moves her hand up and down caressing your thigh slowly going further up. Making you wet at the thoughts of what you wanted her to do to you at that very moment. As she was having her hands go farther up on your thigh, she decided to put two of her fingers on your clit. She felt the wet spot and started to tease you a bit through the thin layer of cotton.

“You should come over at 7 pretty girl.” Your cheeks flushed with red.

“Well I don’t know…I’m busy la-“ You were saying before you got cut off. Ellie had moved her hand completely and looks disappointed. “That’s too bad. Could’ve helped you with that wet spot of yours, pretty. But I guess not.” Ellie whispered shrugging her shoulders. I mugged her.

“Don’t mug me or I really won’t do alll the shit you want me to.” how would she even know anything? you haven’t told anyone besides dina. how the fuck does she know.

“and who says i want you to do anything to me?” i said. “oh baby your actions say it all. the way you react when i barely even touch you. you like it. admit it.” i paused. i was so flustered i didn’t know what to say. as my cheeks were flushing red, my thighs closing more tightly together. she looks down at them, then let out a small chuckle leading with a smirk.

“exactly baby. your actions say it all.”

——————————————————————

A/N: I WROTE THIS LIKE MONTHSSS AGOOO AND NEVER FINISHED IT, SHOULD I FINISH IT AND GET TO THE ACC SPICY SHIT?! OR THIS IS JS WTV AND THROW IT IN THE TRASH!!! LMK PLEASE 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 12 ~ Cherokee Rose

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 2

✧ Word Count : 3.4k

In this chapter ~ When the rest of the group was informed about all the recent events, it was clear they became fearful, wanting to formulate some sort of plan. After reuniting all together at the farm, they are left with the anticipation if Rose would pull through. Meanwhile, the search for Sophia continues.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ THIRD PERSON POV *~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lori and Maggie eventually made it back to the farm just in the nick of time, jumping off the horse in a hurry before jogging inside the house to see Rick and Carl. Seeing the short haired girl was telling nothing but the truth. Unimaginable relief filled Rick's chest the moment Lori walked through the door, safe and unharmed. However, the reality of the circumstances circled back quickly, knowing that Rose's life continued to be on the line depending on what the future held.

Lori didn't need to be told twice when offering up whatever amount of blood they would allow. Just seeing how pale she had gotten, how terrible this all escalated in just a few hours, it was a lot to process.

Although the woman hadn't interacted much with Rose after they had first met, she was still a part of the group, and had kept her son safe countless times since she stepped foot in their camp. And because of that, Lori knew she could trust her. And if giving her blood helped her stay alive, she would do it in an instant.

None of them strayed too far from the bedroom as Hershel continuously checked on her more times than any of them could count. It had been hours since Shane and Otis had set out in search of the supplies and still hadn't returned, which only caused the tension in the house to spike. Though there wasn't much they could do but keep their chins held high. Even if the minutes were slowly ticking away at her fate.

"Shot? What do you mean shot?" Dale asked the group as they made their way back over to the RV, briefly explaining why only a third of the group emerged from the woods.

"God, I don't know Dale. All I know is that some girl rode in on a horse, telling us my best friend got shot and took Lori so she could give her a blood transfusion...I think. It all happened too fast, they kept talking about blood...stuff..." Glenn rambled as he ran a hand stressfully through his hair.

Dale stood there with wide eyes and his mouth slightly parted, not knowing what to say as they all dumped this information on him. But he couldn't get a word in even if he tried, Daryl already beating him to the punch as he gathered himself.

"I dunno about you, but m' headin out. Gonna make sure she's okay." he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading to his bike, not sparing them a second glance.

"Right behind you." Glenn muttered as he fell in step with him.

Carol stuttered, "W-Wait! We can't just leave; Sophia is still out there." she said before they were able to take off. 

"Yeah, well y'all can stay here and wait but m' not." Daryl argued.

"Okay, wait, hold up Daryl," Dale said to catch his attention, "This group is split enough as it is, we have to plan this. How about we wait until tomorrow morning, and if she's still not back we'll leave her a sign, some supplies. We can come back every day afterward to see if she made it back, before we head to this...farm.

"You guys can do all that." he gestured, "I gotta get to Rose."

"Jesus Christ Daryl, she's going to be fine. Why are you being so damn persistent about it anyway?" Andrea asked with a hand on her hip.

Daryl's eyes narrowed at her as he seemed to clam up, not knowing what to say. He knew the reason he wanted to get to her so badly, but he didn't want to admit it out loud. At least not yet. He could barely even admit it to himself. It was a tough pill to swallow that his redneck ass had actually formed a schoolboy crush on her.

Andrea scoffed at his silence, "Oh okay, yeah I get it." she said in a tone that got under his skin.

His jaw seemed to involuntarily clench, "Look, that girl is a few miles away from us dyin for all we know. Why ain't you people more concerned?!" Daryl snapped.

"We are!" Dale defended, "But someone has to be thinking clearly right now, and I think splitting us up even more isn't going to do us any good. Besides, it's already getting dark."

Daryl only scoffed, fed up with the whole conversation and the constant back and forth that was only wasting more time.

Though Glenn stayed quiet during the heated discussion. Both of them had good points and although he didn't want to be left in the dark about what was happening on that farm, his logical thought process seemed to make up his mind. He knew what Dale was saying was undeniably the right call.

He dreadfully stepped closer to Daryl to speak in a quieter tone, hesitant on what he was about to say, "Listen, they...they might be right."

"What?" Daryl asked sharply.

"Look, I want to get to her just as bad as you do," he stated, causing the man to glare daggers at him from the subtle assumption.

But Glenn was quick to scoff, "Don't look at me like that, I've seen the way you treat her versus how you treat anyone else around here. My point is...I want to get there too, but let's just wait it out and then first thing tomorrow we can head to the house all together. Avoid the fight, you know?"

Daryl stared at him for a moment as he took in his words. Had he really been that obvious at his growing feelings for her? Were the others just as aware as he was? Though regardless of the fact, he still felt the need to protest further, feeling as if no one was even listening to him. But Glenn however, cut him off yet again before he could speak.

"Do you really want to sit there and watch her be in pain? Hear her scream? I don't know what they have to do to help her, but it must be pretty bad if she needs blood. And I know damn well I don't want to watch her go through that." he admitted.

The truth was that's what Daryl feared as well. It genuinely scared him a little at the idea of finding out just how bad of shape she was in, he dreaded it in fact. He just wanted to picture her like the last time he saw her. Having a small smile on her face, and a light behind her eyes which he could only assume was hope to find Sophia.

He didn't say anything, but he nodded once, finally giving in to stay just one more night.

Carol watched as he stepped away from his motorcycle and sighed in relief, "Thank you, thank you both." she said to the men.

Daryl just nodded again, hoping she couldn't see the slight annoyance that filled him at the idea of waiting. He hated waiting. He didn't have enough patience to wait around for something, and his skull throbbed with the number of thoughts that constantly clouded over his head. And this was no different, in fact it might be worse.

But he swallowed his pride for once in his life and respected Carol's wishes seeing as she was going through enough already. He just silently headed into one of the nearby abandoned cars to sleep, hoping that tomorrow would come faster that way.

However, the truth was, the next morning couldn't come soon enough and both Glenn and Daryl were itching to get there as fast as possible. Daryl didn't sleep hardly at all that night, and it felt like days before the sun finally began to rise. But the second everyone was awake, they all gathered their things, left a sign for Sophia along with some food and water, and headed towards the house.

They raced down the many dirt roads in the limited vehicles they had left before taking a sharp turn towards where they were instructed. Daryl kept repeating the directions in his head, the woman's voice echoing through his ears as he kept an eye out for the mailbox that she mentioned. And when they had finally spotted it, it wasn't long before a white farmhouse peered into his vision from over the grassy hills, only causing him to pick up speed.

The vehicles piled through the metal gates and toward the entrance, managing to catch sight of Rick and Lori standing on the porch as if they had anticipated their arrival eventually. The remainder of the group collectively raced up the small dirt path and Daryl nearly ate shit trying to get off his bike, jogging up to the couple before anyone else could.

"How is she? She okay?" he asked them, trying to hide the panic in his voice.

Rick smirked slightly to himself, "She's okay...she's going to be just fine." he confirmed.

Daryl sighed a bit quietly in relief, hearing Glenn do the same from just a few inches behind him as he caught up, a pressure being lifted from his chest at the news. The rest then started to come up and greet them on the porch with hugs and relieved smiles, though Daryl just stepped aside. A part of him wanted to go inside the house already and see her, but he was nervous. He wanted to prepare himself to see the state she was in. His mind could only imagine so much as to what she looked like after everything that had happened to her.

But it seemed his decision was made for him as Hershel then came outside to introduce himself to the new people, explaining a bit more of what happened to Rose as he had just finished her surgery only hours ago. She was apparently resting, but he didn't expect her to wake up for at least a little while longer as her body had clearly been through a lot of trauma. Perhaps that was a good enough excuse to stay away for a while longer.

The older man then asked everyone if they would want to gather around to have a small ceremony for a man they'd recently lost. Otis had sacrificed himself in order to save Rose according to what Shane told the group, died from a herd of walkers that somehow tore through the high school where they searched for the medical supplies. The group didn't hesitate to agree and slowly trailed out to an open field, standing quietly while Hershel said a few final words for him, finishing it off with a bible verse. 

Patricia, Otis's wife, turned towards Shane after a few moments of silence had passed, asking if he would tell the story of his very last moments. Wanting some kind of closure. And he did, not wanting to deny as he felt he didn't have a choice.

The story that he told was long and drug out, as the man wasn't able to look at a single person in the eye when reciting what had happened word for word. He was sweating bullets, constantly wiping his forehead all while rocking back and forth on his feet as he spoke with hesitance. It blew Daryl's mind that these people actually believed the things he was coming up with.

He knew the man was lying straight through his teeth, but somehow he managed to keep his mouth shut, choosing not to comment on the fairytale he told. He knew in the back of his mind that no one would believe him if he were to speak up about it anyway. And the only person who would, was currently unconscious.

After the service for Otis, Glenn didn't waste any more time as he made his way up to the unfamiliar house, his eyes searching for the place she stayed before stumbling across the nearest bedroom. She laid there oddly still and peaceful, her face ghostly white at the amount of blood she must've lost in the process of events. His eyes widened a bit at her state as he slowly walked over to the side of the bed, sitting down on the edge before gently taking her hand, moving some baby hairs off of her face.

He started talking to her as if she could hear, even though deep down he knew she couldn't. It was as if he wanted to get everything off of his chest as he felt such sorrow for seeing her in here to begin with. He didn't know why, the events had nothing to do with him, yet he still continued to feel terrible that she was put in this position. Perhaps he should've protested about her leaving when he had the chance to, knowing it was never a good idea to split up. Although he knew it was wrong to think like that, he almost couldn't help it.

"I'm sorry about your girlfriend."

Glenn's head suddenly snapped back up towards the doorway, seeing a younger woman standing there with obvious sympathy.

He was taken off guard at the assumption as he quickly shook his head, "Oh no, no, she's not my girlfriend. We're just...friends. Well...I think she's my best friend. But don't tell her I said that." he spoke lightheartedly.

She laughed a little with a slow nod in understanding, "Well, sorry to assume. I just noticed you were real worried about her. And the...guy with the crossbow. Seems like a tight knit group y'all got going on." she said with a gesture of her hand.

Glenn's mind reeled back a bit at her comment, taking it upon himself to pick up on the obvious concern Daryl was showing for his friend. He couldn't help but smile to himself at the possibilities. But in the end he didn't say a word, only nodding in appreciation to the girl before turning his attention back to Rose. 

Back outside the house Rick, Daryl, Shane, and Hershel were all looking at a map on the hood of an old pickup, trying to figure out the best course of action to find Sophia. They all quickly realized there was a lot of ground to cover, and with how long she had been missing, it would probably take a lot longer to track her down than they had originally hoped.

"How long has the girl been lost?" Hershel asked.

"This is day three," Rick responded, looking back towards the piece of paper, "This is perfect, we can finally get this thing organized."

"We'll grid the whole area and start searching in teams." Shane nodded.

But Hershel was quick to shake his head, "No, not you. With the way you hurt your ankle, push it now and you'll be laid up for a month. No good to nobody." 

"Alright, then it's just us today." Rick said to the archer.

"Nah, we should split up. I'll go East a little ways and you check around this area." he said pointing north.

Rick furrowed his brow, "You sure?"

"Yeah. M' better on my own." he insisted.

Rick nodded his head before they continued discussing about sending more people out tomorrow so they could actually start doing this right. The large setback they had was bad enough as it was, but now knowing that the girl could've gone farther was the thing now weighing them down.

But Daryl found himself volunteering to go out on his own simply because he needed the distraction. He couldn't bring himself to go in and see Rose just yet, not with not knowing exactly what he'd be walking into. So, instead he decided to make himself useful and help look for Sophia for the time being, wanting to be able to finally bring her back safe.

But the man wasn't fooling anyone, even if he thought he was. Rick easily picked up on Daryl's worry the moment he stepped foot onto the farm, how he so clearly cared without even fully realizing it himself. But in the end, he was only left confused as to why he hadn't just gone up to see her for himself, not making much of an effort to check on her though it was clear he was itching to.

So, when the group eventually split after they were done talking out the details, Rick took the opportunity to get some answers out of him.

"Hey," he called after Daryl before he had a chance to get away. "Did you go in and see Rose yet?" he asked.

Daryl hesitated for a moment before shaking his head, "Nah."

"Well, why not? You seemed pretty concerned when you first got here." 

He shrugged, "Just wanted to hear she was okay. Now come on, we ain't got all day, we got a little girl to find." he spoke bluntly before walking away a bit quicker than usual.

Rick smiled to himself knowingly, but turned around and went on pretending like he didn't know a damn thing.

The minutes had slowly turned into hours since Daryl left to be on the lookout for Sophia, and since then he hadn't found so much as a trace. He was searching high and low for any type of sign that she could be nearby or maybe passed through recently, but was left with nothing as he continued his expedition. He felt defeated under the scorching sun, growing more tired than he was ever willing to admit as he continued to push himself to the limits.

But suddenly, he came across an older white house, barely coming into view across the large field and decided to check it out just in case. Clearly, he wasn't up for taking any chances.

He walked up to the front door, trying to listen for walkers inside before kicking the door open with a loud bang, signaling the corpses towards the noise if there was any in there to begin with. When there was only silence that followed, he slowly stepped in and walked down the long hallway, searching room after room he came across. Nothing quite caught his eye as he scanned around every inch thoroughly, just a trashy house that was abandoned long ago.

Even the very last room didn't leave him with a lot of hope, only a bunch of cans and wrappers surrounding the floors. That is until something managed to catch his attention. A larger cupboard tucked in the corner of the kitchen was left adjacent, just enough for him to catch a glimpse at what was inside. It was small, maybe nothing, but he managed to spot a pillow and a blanket on the floor along with some opened food that had been picked apart recently.

To him it was a sign. Maybe it wasn't Sophia that was hiding in there, but it was still a sign to keep looking. 

After checking the whole house, with no evidence of the girl, he hesitantly walked out the back door with the intention to head back to Hershel's farm. He knew it would be dark soon, not wanting to get lost in the area that was still unknown to him. That is until something else caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

From a good few feet away, there sat some flowers blooming fairly close to the house he just cleared. His head tilted a bit in curiosity, walking over only to find that they were Cherokee roses, to which he knew quite well. These flowers were very beautiful and had a backstory behind them that he would never forget, which only caused the wheels to turn in his head. He immediately thought of Carol, how these flowers must have bloomed for her daughter they were still searching endlessly for. In the end he decided to pick one off to take back to her and share the story he had come to know. To give her a little bit of hope that she needed.

He turned around with the intention of leaving to head back, but then out of the clear blue, Rose suddenly crossed his mind. He turned to look back at the flowers again, debating if he should take one to her too, or if he should just leave it be. Maybe she would appreciate it, love it even. Or maybe she didn't even like flowers at all, thinking it was pointless to receive something that would only die in just a few days. Daryl didn't know her thoughts behind something like this...but he knew her. And that was good enough for him.

So, after stalling a bit, overthinking it for far too long, he walked back over to quickly pick another one before heading towards the farm again, his steps quick and determined as if he feared he'd change his mind.

~ Thanks for reading!

[ghostofasecretary]

oh yeah babey. List Time

done already:

- jar orange peel candy

- call friend

- log receipt

- outfit options for Saturday interview

- call other friend

- eat breakfast

- eat lunch

- buy tickets + reserve parking for trip

- try new perfume

to do:

- pick up meds

- handwash clothes

- type poem

- type poem edits!

- reply to P, J, S

- make cauliflower curry + paratha for dinner

well. did absolutely none of this.

i am. anxious. about my trip tomorrow.

i remember--in college. going to visit my ex and driving towards the place we'd lived together, just vaguely in that direction, and freaking the *fuck* out. that whole trip was so hard and i left after. like. a day. because it was too hard and too much and we were both trying our best and it wasn't enough to fix what was broken between us. (what, it felt like, was broken in *me.*)

and it was only, like, a year after, then.

it's been much longer than that now.

and remembering isn't gonna kill me. but it feels like--god. i was so happy, the last time i went to this place. i was barely an adult and i was delirious with love and i remember exactly what i wore and. i had no idea i was heading into something that would traumatize me. it wasn't her fault! she was around but. the amount i blame her for not speaking up is limited by the knowledge that asshole ex-boyfriend was putting wedges between the two of us at least partly on purpose. because he liked me better, maybe? he acted like it sometimes. he said some real shit about her and it hurt and infuriated me and helped make me feel crazy.

sufficiently advanced incompetence and all that, on his part

us breaking up was not his fault. we'd already dumped him by then.

but--i wouldn't have left her if she'd been able to support me, after. and i guess it's good that we got that out of the way before we got married, because being in a situation where i needed stuff that badly, that i couldn't get, while married? nightmare! feel like i dodged a bullet!

but i wanted to marry her. i was so head over heels. i still *like* her, just...i don't want to be friends or hang out because it's. too much.

and. shame is not meaningful here, right. but shame is a part of the whole mess.

i was embarrassed of getting assaulted because i was the Friend Who Fucked and also i was supporting a bunch of people who had previously been assaulted and i was supposed to, like. have a working model of consent. not a "oh yeah this guy ran roughshod over my boundaries and i didn't speak up while it was happening and when i did i wasn't listened to and we were living together and he was paying rent, how could i leave. and then why would we break up, we were happy! we had a good summer! of course i visited him! on his dime. it was [static noises]" situation.

and she. well. i trusted her. and she said "i wouldn't call it rape, things can be bad and not be rape" and didn't remember the details i told her.

and was so stressed out by me talking about my experiences she puked in front of me when i did. (she'd tried to tell me it was stressful. i. did not get how much. great communication there, obviously! i love not repeating relationship mistakes!)

and asked him for his "side." and wasn't angry on my behalf.

and. god. this all feels so tawdry. who cares, it was years ago! god!

but.

it was bad enough that i couldn't shower without freaking out for two years and had to wear shirts all the time and didn't feel comfortable in my body and i couldn't cuddle my friends and i couldn't get off and i couldn't have as much sex as i wanted and i was deeply uncomfortable with my kinks and i couldn't, like, feel pleasure from half my body anymore.

that was bad enough!

but i got assaulted and it felt like it poisoned all my romantic relationships. and my capacity to feel love. and idk about the latter but if not poison it--sure fucking did not help the former!!

i stopped being hot and i stopped being fun and i went insane for months and took a break from being insane and went back to being insane and went to therapy and broke up and stopped going to therapy and broke up again and started freaking out when i heard her name or remembered she existed and talked to her and got an apology and friend-broke-up with my other ex.

i haven't dated in four years.

and it's just, like. one breakup wasn't enough?? i had to have THREE!?

yeah, apparently. yeah.

jesus fucking christ.

and, like. "show me a permanent state of the self" and all that. but jesus, i couldn't--i can't--

i want my fearlessness back. i want my comfort back. i want the willingness to trust people with my dumb-romantic-heart (which feels distinct from my normal reasonable heart that i do trust my friends with) back. i want my fucking masochism back because that was great, actually.

and i'll never get it back! it could regrow but i'll always have to be fucking wiser because of this! which, like, sure, i like being safe and making good choices, that's not the *point,* i'm grieving

how does this even make sense. what the fuck.

so. having a fun time in a city tomorrow, huh!

i'm giving myself a $50 budget. that's absolutely ridiculous for my current finances but we're doing it. if i hate our planned activities i'm gonna suggest thrifting. also we'll have to eat lunch. we could eat a fancy lunch. i want a banh mi. or sushi.

going back to places you went when you were younger shows you how much you changed. you've grown, which is change for the better. you'd laugh at the conversations you thought were intellectual then. poetry's still good, though! no one can take that from you.

you'll be with friends who love you who extremely provably will stick with you for a decade. one of them was there for your whole first round of PTSD, basically, so even if he was less supportive than your college friends due to the circumstances he is still very supportive and knows you extremely well. and your other friend is very kind and great at getting mad on behalf of her friends. they love you. they're family, in the queer sense and the lifelong-inseparability-regardless-of-distance sense.

you're allowed to have feelings about things you did six years ago. if you cry on the trip, or need a minute or an hour or whatever, your friends are forewarned and forearmed and have told you they're here for you. this is better than worrying about being haunted alone sometime. even if, somehow, one of your exes is there: you'll be with people who can and will guard you and get you the fuck out and hold you while you cry and take care of you. they're very kind. you choose friends well.

you're also gonna feel the sunshine on your face and share the cake you made and get ice cream! it'll have moments of beauty, if nothing else!

you're okay. you're gonna be okay.

i love you. i love being alive. drink some milk and go to bed.