#im gonna go hide in the corner now bye

[sleepysheepytea]

!!!warning for footer tickles!!!

literally what do i say

HELP OK SO my family loves the karate kid we watch it all the time and my sisters and I were watching it the other day and my brain was like hey yk what would be funny

and i was like shut up

and it was like im gonna think about this until you draw it

and i was like dang ok

so yeah.

im cringing so bad rn but like i kinda am not too mad at it???

idk i need to shut the honk up before I change my mind abt posting this KDSKJFHJHFSD

also johnny's hair is as painful to draw as it is to look at so there's that

im desperately trying to get out of art block and this is apparently what happens HELPFDLSJFSK OK BYE

[graciegoeskrazy]

undo

matty healy + teen!daughter!reader

warnings: teenage pregnancy, yelling, mentions of absent mother, lmk

a/n: it’s not how i wanted it to be but I’ve been holding onto it for too long so im sorry to the anon who requested if it didn’t live up to your expectations. ok lave uo bai.

The thought has been intruding on your train of thought for the past week and a half. Your period was about a week late now which wasn't unusual. You’re a young woman with a growing body - it happens every once in a while. But that paired with the other unusual symptoms and the fact you had an interesting night about a month ago led to the quiet panicking voices inside your head.

It was simple as you were bored, you called up an old friend, he had ulterior motives, and you had no objection to it. It was a fun night in the end, and no hint of regret showed itself, until now.

You knew you needed to talk to your dad. You knew you needed his help. Usually, things like this weren't a big deal for the two of you. He gave you the talk and every single time you groaned and complained about your period he helped you through all of it, not once showing any hint of discomfort. I guess that’s what happens when you grow up with a single dad and no female mother figure. This was different. This was unpredictable.

You planned to tell him as soon as you got home. Or at least that was the plan. That plan was thrown out the window when you opened the door and were greeted with George’s voice

“I’m home!” You said. The dogs came to welcome you home immediately, as they always did.

“Kitchen!” George said. You mentally cursed yourself.

The two of you talked about your day, his day, and other stupid things to pass the time. Meanwhile Matty watched from the other corner of the table. He noticed something was off. You looked and sounded normal, but there was something that didn't belong. You seemed on edge to him, as if you were waiting for something to happen. No matter how hard you try to hide something, you can’t hide it from your dad. “You alright, Love?” He asked, taking a sip from his drink.

“Yeah, fine.” You said, taking a breath, finally meeting his eyes. He was wearing his usual white shirt and dress pants. However, his hair was a mess and he had this look in his eye. One that you knew all too well. He knew something was up.

By now, George caught wind of your act.“Are you sure? You look pale almost.” He reached a hand up to touch your cheek. You moved his hand away and smiled. “I’m fine George. I swear.”

He sighed and took a sip of his drink. “Alright.”

“I’m gonna go start homework.” You said, turning away and heading upstairs.

Matty followed you with his eyes. “Ok…dinner in 20.” You looked back and gave a slight smile.

Once they heard a slam of your door they were quiet. That was until George said, “That’s suspicious.”

Matty agreed, “I’ll go investigate in a bit. For now, just let her be.”

…

You put your backpack down and immediately ran to your bathroom. This was the 3rd time you threw up today. It could be just nausea. It could be the fact that virus’s are going around or that your period had been acting up or whatever. Or at least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself.

The thoughts of you have to do it, you have to tell him, you’ll have to do it eventually, all swelled in your head and led to anadreline rush of some sort. Whatever it was, it gave you enough energy and courage to go downstairs and face him.

You feet were working your faster than your brain could. By the time it caught up you had planted your feet in front of your dad, looking at him expectantly.

He had a drink in his hand, waiting. He took another sip then, “You alright there?”

You swallowed. “I have to tell you something.”

His eyebrow quirked. “Okayyyy…what is it?”

You sighed. “I’m…” As you were about to say it, you met his eyes which halted your movements. “Really excited for dinner.”

He chuckled. “That’s it?”

“Yep.” You said, popping the ‘p’

“Bye.” You turned around and headed for the stairs bt your dad lightly grabbed your arm, pulling you back.

“Woah, woah, hold on. What’s going on?” He asked, genuine concern painted on his face.

“Nothing.” You said.

He laughed, “So that’s a lie.” He put his drink down to give his full attention to you. “What’s going on, baby?”

At the touch of his gentle hand on your arm and his soothing voice, one you;\’ve grown accustomed to for years, a dam you never realized you;ve been holding in broke. “I don’t know how to say it.”

He shushed you, soothingly, “Just say it.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

You finally turned your gaze to him. “Because I don't want you to hate me.”

He went to hug you, but you pushed him away. “Tell me what’s happened. You're scaring me.”

You tried to catch your breath but it was no use. Eventually you just gave in. “I’m pregnant!” You shouted.

“You’re what?” he asked, his tone growing serious.

You took your time but your eyes slowy met his. Once you looked up you also saw george peeking hsi head out from the kitchen.

“Pregnant.” You repeated. “Or I think I might be. I don’t know?” Your breathing started to get heavy again. “I don't know what’s going on. All I know is that I’m scared and I don't know what to do.”

You expected him to reply. To ethier scream or soothe you, but he stood still. It just sent your nervousness over the edge. “Someone say something, or do something for crying out loud!”

He swallowed. “What do you mean you think?” He asked hesitantly.

“I’ve been throwing up throughout the day for the last week. I’ve been having awful cramps. I’ve been bloated, I…”

“Jesus.”

“My period is over a week late now.”

“Y/n Healy!” And here it was, the reaction you dreaded and expected.

“I got carried away! You were out on tour, and I was alone and-”

“Do not pin this on me, young lady.”

“I’m not! I’m just explaining myself-”

He started to get really red. “You’re 16 y/n! You can’t just run around having sex with the first person you see!”

“Oh, and what a good example you’ve shown me.”

He had enough. “Upstairs. Now.”

You turned on your heels, and went straight up to your room, doing your best to keep everything in until you got upstairs.

…

Your dad was about 18 when your mom got pregent and they had you. She went back and forth for awhile, but eventually decided to leave the day you were born, saying it was for the best and blah blah blah. He promised t give you the best he could, and for the most part he did. Maybe you could do the same?

Your thoughts wer cut short by the knocking on your door. It had been about an hour since the ‘incident’ downstairs. “Baby?” His tone was soft. “George got a test for you.”

You stood still. You’re cries continued, as they did for the past hour.

“Tell me what happened.” He said. He held no anger or demand in his voice. Just concern.

You sat there, took a breath and sat on the other side of your door while u spoke. Matty mirrored you from the outside. “I just got carried away one day. I met up with an old friend and-“ You trailed off, hoping he would get the point without having you go into detail. “I messed up Dad.”

He sighed as you continued to sob on the other side. “It’ll be okay.”

Your emotions were nearing a full 10 right now. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry. Please don’t hate me.”

He turned so he was facing the door. Hoping you would open it as soon as he spoke “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.” He sounded casual. “It’s gonna be okay-“

“You don’t know that!”

“I do! I was 17 when I became a dad. And we didn’t turn out too bad, right?” He smiled.

You buried you head in your hands. “God, I’m such a slut.”

“Hey! You are not a slut. You’re just…human.” You laughed. He was happy he was able to make you giggle, even if he couldn’t see it and it only lasted a millisecond. “Take the test. Whatever it says, we’ll figure it out.”

You stood up to open the door. “Don’t come in. I mean, can you just slide it though?”

He leaned his head on the door frame. “Whatever you need my dear.” Slowly, the door opened. You reached your hand out and he put the box in your hands. Once you closed the door he spoke. “Take your time, I’ll be right here.”

…

Those ten minutes seemed to be the longest of your life. 2 of them consisted of sitting on the toilet and staring at it. Not the test - the test in the wrapper. Some shock of adrenaline (most likely just your need to pee) pushed you to rip it open and place it in between your legs without giving it another thought. You cleaned yourself off and placed it facedown on the counter and set a timer.

You paced and paced and paced. You thought maybe you should go to your dad. What you two talk about for those 5 minutes? What happened? No you can’t talk about those details with your dad. You two were as close as can be but even some things needed to stay sacred. You thought about him. The ‘father’ of the baby you weren’t sure existed or not. He went to another school across town, a mutual friend. He was a year or two older. It didn’t matter though. All the consequences, every single move you made in the past couple weeks, were about you. He could do whatever the hell he wanted. He could be a father or not. It didn’t matter. It was you the consequences fell back on. you. And you were paying for them now.

The timer rang and you grabbed the test without a second thought.

You sobbed.

It was negative. If anything you should be cheering. Screaming. from the rooftops that your life was nowhere near over and you were t getting yourself into a whirlwind of trouble and physical and mental pain. But you cried.

You opened the door. Your dad stoped his movements and looked at you expectantly. He was pacing too just moments before.

“It’s Negative.” You said.

He sighed a breath a relief and hugged you. You continued to sob into him. “Why are you crying?” he whispered.

You muffled into his chest. “Because I didn’t want to let you down.”

He looked at you. “You could never, my love.”

[hxrnyforsturns]

anything for you C.S

a/n: my fav song atm. something like this story just happened to my bsf so thanks for the inspiration ig but lowk wrote this in 10 mins!!

chris

y/n

Lily(y/n bsf)

SMUT WARNING MENTION OF FINGERING AND SWEARING

me and chris got into a small argument about how he doesn't think going out to 3 parties in one night was a bit to much. I was so worried about chris because the last time he went to more than one party in a night he was sick for days. i also was a bit upset that he would rather go to parties than hang out with me. i was upset but i didn't mention it. I left his apartment saying that i don't care what he does just don't come and complain to me when he's throwing up copious amounts of alcohol. it's been a few hours since then and I have been sitting in my bed watching tiktoks with my tiny brandy pj shorts and oversized shirt. since then. i get a snap from chris expecting it to be a picture of him taking a shot but i opened it and my eyes widened. it was a picture of me in my room staring at my phone eating chips. i shot up out of bed and ran to my window.

"what the fuck are you doing here!"

"i felt bad for yelling earlier and i just realized i wanted to spend time with you over going to stupid parties"

"you mean it?" my eyes looking up at his icy cold eyes

"1000% baby. c'mere." he said as he pulled me in with his big hands on my waist moving down my hips connecting out lips. he pulls away for a minute.

"are you mad at me?" he says shyly

"i could never. ofc not! it was just a silly little argument it didn't mean anything." i was trying to reassure him

"are you sure? i feel bad"

"seriously stop worrying about it i promise i wouldn't lie. now come here" i pulled him by his neck and pulled him down on my bed. i was kissing him like i depended on it. i wanted to make sure he knows im not mad at him.

after a bit we naturally stopped. we were both relaxing on the bed while he rested his head on my chest as i played with his hair. we were watching tiktoks on my phone and I got a call from my friend Lily. if she knew chris was over she'd be pissed because I told her i couldn't hang out because we got in an argument and i didn't want to go out. But if i didn't answer i would be suspicious because i have been texting her all night. I asked chris if it's ok if i answer but he can't be in the call. He said it was fine so he sat in a corner of my bed while i was on the other side face timing Lily.

"OH MY GOD LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT MY NIGHT."

"alright!! let me hear!" Lily continued to talk my ear off for a good fifteen minutes. I kept looking back at chris and i could tell he was getting bored of hearing about Lily and her crush. eventually chris was creeping up by me making sure he was out of frame. i felt a tug at my shorts and I went on mute because i knew what he wanted to do.

"please. i'll be quiet i promise." he said as he tugged at my shorts with puppy eyes. i couldn't resist him so i nodded

i continued to talk to Lily on the phone as he slowly pulled my shorts lower a lower. unexpectedly he stuck his finger inside of me. i let out a shocked moan which shocked Lily.

"what the fuck are you moaning for. thinking about chris fucking the shit out of you or something. god sometimes you should really shut the fuck up about him and what you want to do to him." I went red as she spilled my secrets of my fantasies with chris. i looked over and saw him hiding his giggles. i started to hyperventilate

"WOULD YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP NO IM NOT STOP TALKING ABOUT THAT!"

"what? it's not like he's there!"

"just stop. tell me more about how you guys went into that room and the couple was there"

"oh yes! ok so then-"

chris continued to finger me and i continued to lose my mind. this has the best he has ever been

"Lily i'm- fuck- i'm gonna have to call you back. "

"girl are you fingering you self? you sound like it"

"NO! don't you see both my hands! OK ANYWAY I GOTTA GO BYE"

I immediately hung up as i was nearing my climax i couldn't focus anymore.

"why did you hang up? and what was that about me and you thinking about fucking the shit out of me?"

"fuck off bro. keep going baby. it feels so good."

"i know it feels good i can feel you clenching around me baby. come on ma you can take more for me right?"

"yes god yes! fuck- keep going. faster!" i grip the sheets as hard as i could.

he did as i said and went as fast as he good and i melted. my legs were shaking and sore. i felt my stomach collapse in half . i have never felt that good in my life.

"holy- fuck." he stuck his fingers in his mouth and licked them clean.

"can you really fuck the shit out of me like you were saying?"

"idk want test that theory?"

part 2??? if so where shoudl this lead to

[fangirlwithasweettooth]

Whoops here’s me feelin’ Cute™️ after somewhat matching my makeup to my nails yeet (or: Return of the Good Lighting and Makeup Combo)

(And here’s a pic of just my nails bc ohmygosh I freaking love these colors)

[frankcastlescumslut]

HI BABY, congrats on 300!!! you deserve each and every follow <33

i saw this promt

being carried/tucked into bed, after having fallen asleep on the couch waiting for your partner to come home

and immediately thought of our big softie Frank :,)))

ughhhh im gonna puke he’s such a big baby

pairing: frank castle x gn!reader

warnings: use of “attagirl”, FLUFF, softie babygirl frank, tiny tiny blood

(this is the face i imagine he gives when he finds you asleep bye)

Thumbs drum against the hard exterior of a steering wheel as the time on the dashboard continues to pass by. Two more miles, he reminds himself. Two more miles until he’s back home with you.

This trip was exponentially shorter than his previous ones, only three days, sweetheart, he would reassure you, only easing your pout with an attagirl as you loosened your grip around him, giving him permission to go on his way to who knows where this time.

You had a love/hate relationship with his trips. While you enjoyed the comfortable silence and time to yourself, you hated not knowing if Frank was safe. The burner phone was for serious emergencies only, and although you understood, your nerves never seemed to adjust.

The last mile seemed to be the longest, and Frank was ready to collapse into your arms and get a well deserved good night’s sleep. He could practically hear you now, your sweet Frankie!, to announce his arrival followed by your bear grip of a hug to emphasize how much you missed him.

It was the small moments and gestures that he held close to that kept him going, no matter what was thrown at him.

Which is exactly why he ran to the the door of the apartment and threw it open with an unabashed smile that quickly turned to a frown when your voice did not ring throughout the room.

His heart nearly beat through his chest- he wasn’t expecting the silence or the living room to be completely dark and devoid of life. Matter of fact- the entire apartment seemed to be eerily quiet.

Combat boots thudded against the floor as he approached the room, flicking the light on without care. Better to wake them up in a bad mood than to find em gone, he thought, before his stomach flipped over itself at the empty bed.

The large blankets were gone, along with his pillows, and your clothes piled against the foot of the bed on your side. His bags fell to the floor with a thump, and he was somewhat relieved, knowing you at least had been here recently. He scratched his head, his mind having been clouded by so much excitement turned to panic that he completely overlooked your comfort spot.

He sighed as he strode to the living room and rested against the corner of the hallway as he made sense of his view.

A mountain of blankets hid your entire body, only your cheeks and nose peeking out as you cocooned yourself in the soft fabrics. You looked peaceful, completely surrounded by the comforter and snuggled against Frank’s pillow.

A few minutes passed as he admired his view, failing to hide a smile as he took you in, appreciating the soft and quiet moments that he could truly adore you without your protest. He almost felt guilty that you weren’t in bed, but as fast as his concern came, it dissipated as you hummed in your sleep.

The couch was one of your favorite spots in your home, much to his surprise. So as much as you missed him when he was gone, the couch wasn’t such a downgrade.

He was hesitant to approach you, but he allowed his own selfish needs to prompt him, kneeling quietly in front of you before placing a hand to your warm cheek.

“Frankie?” It was dark as you opened your eyes at the new sensation against your face. You could just make out a wrist and forearm from the sliver of blanket.

“Hey sweetheart,” he smiles at your scrunched face as he peeled the blankets back, watching you make sense of your surroundings. “Whatcha doin’ under there?”

A hum leaves your lips as you reach for him, “Sleepin,” you say with a yawn. Warmth washes over you as he engulfs you.

“Yeah?” A chaste kiss meets your temple. “Somethin’ wrong with the bed?” You relax under the weight of him as he wraps his arms around your back and nestles into your neck. His knees ache against the hardwood floor, but he ignore the pain.

“Mhm, you weren’t in it.” Darkness surrounds you as your eyes grow heavy with sleep.

“Well let’s change that.” He grunts as he stands, silently thanking his feet for taking the weight off of his knees, and the back of your knees meets the crook of his elbow.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you breathe him in. It will never get old; his returns were the saving grace of his time away, and you lived for these moments. The moments where it was just safe to be with him.

The mattress sinks under your weight as he places you down, quickly meeting your forehead with a kiss. You can’t help the pout that forms against your lips as he parts, heading for the living room to grab the blankets and pillows you left behind.

Your heart picks up speed as he pushes through the doorframe, only his legs and boots visible before dumping the entirety of your bed spread on top of you. The weight of the blankets felt relaxing, and you only threw them away from your face to catch a glimpse of Frank.

He looked beautiful, even in the dark. His face was concentrated, his nose accentuating the curve of his brow, as he aired out the heavy comforter. It fell over you like a sheet of snow, and you welcomed them with ease.

He wasn’t expecting the fluffy pillow to ram into his side, nearly pushing him an inch, and you weren’t prepared for the same pillow to be tossed right back into you, causing your lip to smack against your tooth.

“Ow!” You cup your mouth instantly at the dull pain, the faint metallic taste washing over your tongue as it glides over the split.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he’s in front of you in an instant, you’re not really sure how he made it that fast, and his thumb gently pulls down your lip as he inspects the injury with an intense face. “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to- shit. Are you okay?”

It’s not funny, but it’s funny. You’re barely bleeding and the pain has completely subsided, and yet Frank Castle is inspecting the tiniest of wounds that he unintentionally inflicted, as if you were on your last breath.

Which is why you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped, and only laughed harder at his confused face.

“Wh-“

“Frank,” you hardly get out. “It’s just a bump, I’m not dying here.” Laughter fills the bedroom, and he can’t help but roll his eyes and hide a playful smirk.

“Shut it.” He finally chuckles, finally changing out of his dirty clothes.

You’re practically in stitches, even as he crawls into bed, and turns his back to you as you continue your laughing fit.

“Oh, come on.” You cuddle up against him, your arm slinking around his waist as your chest presses against his back. “It was funny, admit it.” Your lips touch the muscle surrounding his shoulder blade.

“Yeah, so funny.” He grumbles as he attempts to hide a smirk, but you can see right through him, even if was faced away from you.

“Hilarious, actually.” The warmth radiating off of him soothed you, and you yawned involuntarily as your bed finally felt as it should, though you wished to be in his position.

He hisses as you slide your feet in between his, the temperature difference was unbearable. “Jesus!” The memo was received as he turned in your direction, practically scooping you into him as he adjusted. “Fuckin’ freezin me out! Bout to get you some damn socks.” His teeth dramatically chatter as he buries his face into the warmth of your neck.

You sigh into the familiarity of his touch, turning your head slightly to meet him for a quick kiss.

“‘m glad you’re home,” you mumble through a yawn.

“Me too.”

join my sleepover!

a/n: this was so self indulgent and personal to me thank you for requesting this one mmmwah

[honeybeewhereartthee]

My Darling Dolls

Chapter 25: Pestering Rei, Shadow Doll, and the Void

Previous | Current | Next

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

"ritsu!"

you look around and don't see any ritsu as Rei come running to your direction. Smiling so sweetly as if it's a nice day today.

"..." You quickly give him space to run as you thought he can see further than you do, but as you did so, you saw him jump with his eyes close, ready for a hug to only land in the floor where you use to stood.

"Ritsu why do you dodge your oniichan hug?!" He cried out.

"Sakuma-san... Where you trying to hug me just now?" You were sure he was calling the same Ritsu and not MC.

"Uwaaa ritsu, call me oniichan!"

"..." Holy shit this guy is nuts, he think your his younger brother or someshit. You quickly back away and run away from him.

"Ritsu come back to oniichan! Oniichan brought you some souvenir!" Rei of course give chase holding the stuff he brought for ritsu.

"HELP SOME CRAZY PERSON CALLING ME HIS LIL BRO. WHICH IM NOT!" you yelled out as your being chase by a brocon who might be so blind to see, your not ritsu.

"RITSU HOW COULD YOU BE THIS MEAN TO YOUR ONIICHAN!" Rei yelled back as he felt hurt being called crazy person by 'ritsu'

"KURO KURO HELLPPPP!!" you saw a familiar friendly giant friend of yours and quickly hide behind him as Rei comes smiling from the corner you just come from.

"Ah? Anguille? What's wrong?" Kuro quickly defend you but when he saw it's Rei he relax. "It's just Rei." He pat your head saying there's no problem with Rei F all. You saw rei comes to a stop in front of you two and hugs you.

"Ritssuuuuu!" He beam hugging you shamelessly. You unconsciously throw him off over your shoulder as self defense and arm lock his hands behind his back.

As you did so, not seen in naked eyes a mirage image of ritsu synchro with your movement as your eyes glow red. But Rei clearly see it! Rei smile as he saw his brother missing soul through you! He wasn't a lunatic! He did see with his own (brocon) eyes!

"Fuck off." You aren't rude to people, at least not until they go pass the boundary of your limit but you somehow don't like Rei being around you. His so icky for some reason, even so his a doll as well.

"Oh. You guys don't need to use force. There's things that could go through chatting." Kuro help Rei after you let go of him and kicked him to the ground. Your eyes still lacing with red glow.

"It keep following me." You grumble as you point at Rei.

"IT?! ITS NOT IT. ITS ONIICHAN ITS ONIICHAN, RITSU!" Rei felt so hurt but hearing familiar rude behavior of Ritsu, he is pretty sure than before Ritsu is connected to you.

"uwaahhh... Crazy." You hide behind Kuro seeing Rei behavior is very weird right now.

"...??? Ah. Are you guys related?" Kuro now think your full name is MC Ritsu Anguille. Since one of your name is foreign, it's probably the reason you have multiple names. Through it's very coincidence your second names sound like Rei little brother name... Wait what was Rei little brother name again...?' Kuro mind suddenly went blank as he try to remember what Rei little brother look like, he does know his little brother work in the knights Unit yet when one try to remember the face or name it comes out blank.

"Agh..." You grumble as you and rei circle around Kuro tall form as he think about the name and face of Rei little brother. "Leave me alone!" You run away yet again after saying goodbye to Kuro. "Bye, see you later!" He snap from his thoughts and wave you goodbye, he watch Rei shamelessly follow behind you.

It's been two weeks or so since you come back to your human form, you meet up with people you meet when your in your doll form when Eichi force you to work (his good help isn't good at all, his gonna inslave either way) was for you to be force to work under starPro as custom designer or outfit creator to help out Anzu. Which you were reluctant to do until eichi flash Ensemble squire currency which alkaloid and crazy: b really needed right now. You give in.

As you pass the corner, Hands pulled you and secure familiar hold keep you safe as Rei passes by without noticing you at all.

"RITSU?"

and went to the corner looking and chasing.

"Mayoi~" you Beam to the person who saved you from that trouble. Your eyes no longer glow red the moment he held you. The shadow figure of certain younger Sakuma become a small shadow doll hanging over your shoulder yet you never see it with your naked eyes.

"M-MC...!" He grab hold of the mini shadow ritsu and throw it back to the void with the rest of haunted dolls are.

...

Void

"Nyoommm" -shadow ritsu landed and rolled around the fluffy plain. He soon yawn and sleep again.

...

Back to You two.

' ahhh, the twins are right... One of the haunted dolls are awake.' he then proceed to hug you as he thought of how to fix the mess with sakumas.

A few days ago when the twins went back from the void after their punishment for making you drink alcohol in that role play of spy x family. They all went saying that one of the dormant souls is awaken.

...

Few days ago.

Mayoi: p-please don't make the same mistake again ok---

Hinata, who's in his doll form: AHHHH MAYOI-SAN ONE OF THE SOULS ACCIDENTALLY WAKE UP!

Yuuta: they bite aniki! And almost drained aniki energy!

Mayoi:...??????

Aoi twins: MAYOI-SAN! It means sakuma ritsu is slowly awaken!

Mayoi: !!???

...

It should been a good news since it mean Ritsu other haft of soul could leave the void and return to his other haft and become a full ritsu sakuma again. But when Mayoi put your human body in the void to be safe and sound. Ritsu have leech onto your shadow unconsciously.

Now his somewhat possessing you when Rei or people he knows Is around. The fact that he glued himself very tightly connected and won't bulge unless Mayoi makes him sleep back to the void for few hours or so. Like he did just now.

"Hmm~" you giggle enjoying the hug. Not noticing the things Mayoi did just now.

"Btw did you know that ritsu person Rei is looking for?" You do know Rei have a younger brother but his image comes blurry in mind.

"...!" He was surprised by your question but looking at your face. He sigh and takes your hand as you two enter a secret passage way, as you two left the corner. Rei come around again.

"RITSU DOKO?!"

...

"Unfortunate souls... Where granted to be able to join the realm of the living by going through a process where a living most show them love and acceptance to be one of them. To enjoy their presence in the world as someone fits to live in this world. Adults humans cannot accept oddity in their mature age.

" So the blue star and the first dollmaker, thought about trying out with the children who would accept the oddity as a new realm of possibility and befriend the unknown and accept them. A way to them is through toys or dolls. So the first doll was made. Kanata Shinkai. The first owner was a precious child who accept Kanata yet only as an imaginary friend--

"Hey I wanna ask about Ritsu... Why am I hearing this... Through I think I heard this story before... Just Kanata version."

You raise a hand to pause Mayoi from his story telling as he serve you some Cocoa. It seems were in some underground house he knows in ES.

"Oh my... My bad. Fufu. MC seems to not like stories anymore." Mayoi chuckle as he seat beside you. You lean your head on his shoulder which made him smile slightly blush.

"I like stories. Especially if it's you who's telling it." You mumble, snuggling close to him. "You and I have work you know? We only have till we get spam by message to hear the story. Maybe next time I will hear the story."

"Hmm, I guess. I shall skip to the important part then." He mumble as he lay his head on your head, you giggle as his hair went in front of your face.

"Okii. I still wanna hear full story letter ùwú." You proceed to untie his hair and made his hair full down to your side, pretending you have double color hair in one side. He chuckle as he realize what your doing.

"Ritsu... He was made into a doll, after a while. Like a many Dollmaker later. But sakuma went and picks him up as his able to maintain his human form as the new head of the so called 'vampire' family. So they been together since then. The younger sakuma have attachment issues. So when Rei suddenly disappear for how many years. When Rei promise they'll be together forever as brothers and be human together. Ritsu fallen in depression." He mumble.

"Dolls can be depress too you know? When they Do...like humans, they too wish to not able to see another day. A doll and unfortunate souls hearts are very fragile... It's easy to break if you handle it carelessly. It easily be filled with love, hate, self loathing and many emotion their surrounding gives. When it break their emotions will pour out and their knots will untie... Hence the end to dolls. Well at least until someone fix them. But who knows what change happened to them once fix? They could be another whole set of personality and abilities when they did." Mayoi takes a sip of his sweet cocoa.

"Do you know...? Your very special dollmaker. You can improve thr quality of dolls when you fix them. All rhr threads you sew in each dolls is full of love and affection." He held your hand.

"Ehh ... Dolls with Magical ability. Does everyone have one?" You wonder what's the ability of others. You seen only few. Mostly Kanata, Rei and Mayoi. Maybe you forget some dolls.

"Are you interested ? You could always ask them you know?" He chuckle a bit at your question. "Everyone would be thrilled to show a trick or two."

"Can you show me yours?" You do know he help you in your task with Kaname for some reason. But remember Rei super cool bats and stuff. You wonder if Mayoi have something like that too.

"...ah." he felt blinded at your gaze of excitement and have to cover his eyes a bit. Your excitement makes him both happy and worried because you might not get what level of expectations you have.

"D-do you wanna see...?" He ask you. After a long silence and thoughts.

"Hmm!" You nodded your head.

"o-ok..." Mayoi cover your eyes, threads surrounded the two of you before you two are gone from the living world.

...

The Void

"I-i... I can show you this place." Mayoi slowly Remove his hands and show you the void or his own little dark space.

Through it can be described a place with fluffy floor and many glowing balls laying in the ground. It look like a nursery or incubator. "D-dont touch any souls ok? They'll suck your energy uncontrollably." He warned.

"Oooh so many souls." You mumble but saw an oddball which is a doll shadow of red and black sleeping in the floor. Your eyes sparkle.

"Uhmm... M-MC!?" Mayoi clearly know that gaze of yours as you quickly pick up the shadow doll and hug em before he could stop you.

"Uwuuwuw so cute!" Your doll obsess self have once again taken over you. You felt slightly weaker but the doll slowly become less of a shadow like than before.

"M-MC let go of that little one...!" Of course Mayoi saw your losing some energy as doll gain its original look. But you won't budge with your hold with the haunted doll.

"Nyooo!" You protest running away from Mayoi, a bit sleepy but you starting to see the cutie doll face.

"M-MC, come back here p-please and let go of that haunted doll!" Of course Mayoi give chase on you before long he caught up to you, the two of you soon collapse in the soft black fluffy floor and you almost drop the haunted doll but carefully held it close as it finally regain it's look.

The has mid-length black hair with bangs and side bangs that frame his cheeks. He has a tiny speck of hair and a stray bang sticking out of his head. He has droopy red eyes and a fair complexion.

"*Yawwnnn... Sup...?" The haunted doll greets as it's awaken by constant running while being carried. But he felt suddenly comfort at your presence like a sweet bed and snuggle against your arms and slept again.

"Ahh......!?" You suddenly felt your heart been shot. "So cute!" You giggle as you snuggle to Mayoi who lay on his back, a bit tired on chasing you in the void.

"*Yawn. I felt sleepy." You giggle as mayoi made his arms as your pillow. He look at your face and the haunted doll your holding.

"..." He sigh as he ruffle your hair. He want to remove the doll from your hold as you slowly slept to his arms but realized you won't budge either even as you sleep.

"Uhm... This is problematic." He mumble as he hug you with one of his free hand instead of trying to remove the Haunted doll off. He wave his hand, the threads form a cover, and cover the two of you as colorful balls around bounce toward one another in midair.

Maybe he should just show you a few tricks of threads instead. He thought as he too start to fall asleep.

...

🌙 Tag List: @valeriele3 @emikoisdead @allimili

🌙 ritsu and Aoi case is both different case of haunted dolls ok?

🌙 who's curious for everyone abilities? 🤨

🌙 sleeping Ritsu for ya all.

🌙 Part 5 official start. Hopefully finish before end of this week AHAHA.

[sparklykatt]

Part 3 of the casita kicks everyone out au fanfic

Part 1

Part 2

“So ma and pa are coming too?” “And Luisa.” Mirabel nodded as the two watched Antonio happily reunite with his animals. “So your power��� are you going to start growing things more freely now that it’s back?” Isabella nodded, smiling softly. Mirabel sighed a bit, also smiling. “I’m gonna go fix my room up.” Isabella said, turning away. Mirabel also turned away, moving towards a particular painting. “Tio Bruno… you have to come out eventually…” there was a moment of silence as the painting creaked. “I don’t think I…” “considering I kicked everyone out of the house I don’t think you have to worry about others.” Bruno huffed and crawled out. “I… can I at least hide in my room for a while? Until one of my sisters shows up?” Mirabel chuckled a bit. “Sure. My mom will show up soon though,” before she could complete the sentence, Bruno scurried to his tower. “Okay bye!” His footsteps stopped, then approached again slowly as he peeked around the corner at mirabel. “…are you ok? I didn’t come out last night because I thought you might want to be alone but… that fight was…” mirabel huffed, pushing her tio to his door. “I’ll be fine. I’ve got it off my chest and it looks like our family is starting to change so…” mirabel kept her eyes to the floor, “I’m sure we’ll both get hugs and the welcoming happy family we deserve.” Bruno furrowed his brow a bit before once again retreating to his room. “Well… if you need someone to vent to, you know where I am.” With a slight thud he was gone. “You got him to move back into his room?” Mirabel jumped at the voice of her younger cousin. “Yeah Antonio, I’m gonna help him get back into the family.” Antonio nodded seriously. “I don’t think I’d be able to keep our tio living in the walls a secret forever.” Mirabel half heartedly chuckled. At least he was honest.

About an hour or so of mirabel making snacks to pass the time and somehow bonding with her sister and cousin (also watching as they miraculously bonded over their power and inability to shape dough) Julieta, Felix and Luisa arrived, finding the trio in the kitchen. “Mirabel!” Julieta was unsurprisingly the most excited to see her daughter. Mirabel leaned into her mothers hands squishing her cheeks and smiled at the familiar kiss on the forehead. “Oh Mira I’m sorry for not standing up to your abuela for you.” Mirabel was brought into a tight hug, soon joined by Agustin. “Ma… pa… heavy…” after a second the duo backed up, keeping their daughter close in their arms. “I’m so proud of you for last night. For not letting anyone downplay your worth.” Felix complimented. Mira could only grin back. He was always the one to fight for his children no matter what, even against the madrigal matriarch. It was a good balance to her mothers less confrontational but always available love for her children. In truth mirabel wasn’t really mad at them in the first place, they just got caught up in her accidental display of frustration through casita. “Thanks.” Mirabel carefully back out of the embrace and peeked at Luisa, who was waiting patiently, if not timidly for her turn. “Come here Luisa.” Despite her loss of her power, Luisa nearly lifted mirabel a foot off the ground at the invitation. “Im sorry too mirabel! I was so caught up with living up to the expectations and doing my work I ignored you! I couldn’t protect you at all!” Mirabel shimmied her arms out of the grasp of her sister to give a pat on the shoulder. “I don’t blame you for that. You were just trying to do your part to help the village.” Mirabel decided to leave out her thoughts of contempt towards abuela, who pushed her to pick up so many menial chores at once. The mood was too nice for that. “Oh right! I need to get something!” Mirabel quickly scrambled up the stairs, leaving her family slightly confused. Soon they heard her again, this time muttering. “You had an out to prepare, and guess what? Ma is here to your condition to come out has been met.” Julieta raised a brow at a mention of her but stayed standing patiently. Soon the door opened again. Julieta’s hands flew up to her face at the sight of her brother, being awkwardly dragged in. “Bruno…?” “Hi…” Julieta ran towards the poor man, hugging him so suddenly she lifted him over her shoulder. “Where have you been!?” “…in…in the walls…” “…WHAT?!” the kids stared at the scene as Augustin joined in welcoming Bruno back into the house. “Mira… did you find our tio in the walls?” Isabella asked, finally breaking her gaze away. “Yes. It was right after the whole… proposal fiasco.” Another moment of silence. “Luisa, why don’t you join us while they’re at it. We were making polvorosas.” “Yeah.”

Eventually the reunion settled down and the fresh baked goods were offered as a welcome back gift. Nobody seemed to want to move from the dining room. Everyone was too comfortable in their seats and there was so much to talk about. Ten years of things to talk about from everyone, plenty of which will probably be repeated later on mirabel and Bruno’s side of the conversation. Plenty of repeated apologies were spurred on too. But as they talked the day away, occasionally stopping to make a meal together, one more visitor arrived. Camilo. Who was ushered to the table despite his tense confusion seeing his tio. “Come on Camilo, we’re just talking!” Julieta guided him to sit and he froze in his seat at the situation he thought he was prepared for. He was prepared, but it was for a tense atmosphere and a burning glare. Maybe some tears and yelling. He couldn’t be prepared for something so relaxed. Or his missing tio appearing out of thin air. “Uh…” Camilo glanced in many different directions. His brother pat his shoulder clumsily, muttering a little “you can do it” while they watched the rest of the table carry on their conversation. “Now that I think about it, Camilo and maribel were quite close back then.” The poor boy jumped as he was dragged into the conversation by Luisa. Even she saw that he would need to be coerced into talking. “That’s right, since they were so close in age and stayed in the nursery together their entire lives.” Julieta nodded. “It almost got annoying, since they would always make a mess of something.” Isabella groaned, undoubtedly thinking of how they messed up one of her early flower displays some how. “Yeah… we were close weren’t we…” Camilo muttered guiltily. He really thought he was prepared to admit these things. “Camilo… why did that stop?” Mirabel was obviously trying and failing to keep the tone light, not wanting to ruin the mood. Despite the fact that this was obviously where everyone wanted the conversation to go. “I… ah…” with their mission accomplished, the family retreated back to the kitchen, making the clumsy excuse of “getting more snacks” before shutting the cousins in the dining room alone. It was dead silent. “Why did you stop talking to me?” Mirabel repeated, allowing her tone to fall into something sad. Camilo really wasn’t as prepared as he wanted to be. “Back then… after your gift ceremony I mean. Abuela seemed to get annoyed whenever we hung out, or even talked at all.” Mirabel furrowed her brow a bit. “I didn’t avoid you because of that! Just, after a while she pulled me aside, telling me I should spend less time with you, something about how I’d start working eventually and we couldn’t stay together then.” Camilo was folded into himself, nervously wringing his hands. “Abuela wanted that…?” Camilo gulped, knowing he was digging his abuela’s grave with every word. But it was the truth and mirabel deserves to know. “Yeah… I tried to get around it by having our little… adventures away from abuela but I guess we were either too loud or one of the others unknowingly mentioned us to her. One day i was told that we had to ‘train my gift’ and my parents were more than content seeing as it kept us out of trouble.” Camilo peeked at mirabel, who had her wife eyes glued to the table. “I don’t think they understood abuela’s motives fully, and the moment I had enough mastery over my gift I was put to work in the village. Not much time to get back in touch after that.” Camilo took a breath before moving to the other side of the table to sit beside mirabel. “I’m sorry for not telling you the truth sooner… and I’m sorry for abandoning you back then.” He lifted a hesitant hand for a side hug, and mirabel leaned into it. “I forgive you. Thanks for telling me everything cami.” Her voice was soft and sad, though mirabel had no idea why.

She should be angry, most of her issues stemmed from abuela apparently very directly sabotaging her family’s relationship. But instead she was sad, the abuela she wanted love from working to isolate her, her cousin and sisters dealing with their own unintended isolation. Lord knows what kind of issues she’ll finally recognize in pepa and Dolores if they ever come to talk. “This family is such a mess. It’s idiotic how none of us had seen it before.” Mirabel mumbled, earning a solemn nod from her cousin. Suddenly Agustin’s head popped out of the kitchen. “More snacks, to brighten the mood!” The others peeked out behind, obviously searching for any clue that the confrontation they set up was a success. “And some juice!” Luisa added, carrying more glasses in when spying the awkward side hug the cousins were in as a sign of good things. “Thanks.” Mirabel gave a great full chuckle and Camilo excitedly took plenty from the snack plate, offering only one to Mirabel. “By the way, since you guys weren’t here this morning… did you want to see my room?” As expected, more wide eyes. “UM, YES!” Camilo shouted as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “Oh, we’d love to see it!” Julieta beamed at her daughter with pride. Her own room, just like everyone hoped for her.

They walked past five brightly glowing doors to mirabels door. The vivid image of mirabel standing in front of casita, looking straight ahead, her expression almost neutral, and her fits holding on to her skirt. It’s a door truly fitting of mirabel.

Abuela will eventually get her own repentance arc but I’m giving her a bastardization arc first. Next part will be pepa and Dolores, and abuela gets her own chapter for character growth.

[betzabobababi]

Broken Tom Holland x Reader

Chapter 2: If Only

jtlyk there are gonna have a flashback through out the story :)

Warning: swearing

Plot: Y/n and Tom were made for each other and have been married for nearly 10 years but what happens when they go through putrid rough patch?

Summary: The conversation from the coffee date, And a shit ton of If Only's

 AUTHOR'S POV

You were overly excited for the coffee meet up / date. Even though you guys were married, both of you felt like it was your first date. As you got dressed you wondered how Tom always managed to stay at a hotel when you knew that he only had a certain amount pair of outfits in his suitcases that he took on his last trip to L.A for an interview when Spider-Man:  Far From Home started filming

FLASHBACK

Y/N'S POV

"Okay y/n/n, I'm leaving I'll see you in two weeks!"

"Oh Okay! Bye Bubs, I love youuuuu!"

I leaned in to kiss Tom but to my surprise he turned his head so that instead of me kissing him on the lips I ended up kissing him on the cheek. It took me by surprise but never the less I brushed it off thinking that he was just excited for the interview. If only I would have asked him about it before then maybe I would have saved myself a broken and aching heart but I didn't. Which till this day is one of the mistakes in Tom's and I's relationship. 

END OF FLASHBACK

Y/N's POV

I knew that I was a bit early but I wanted to be able to order our coffee and some delicious croissants that Z had been telling me that they sold there. I had been listening to the same song I had on repeat for more than I could remember after Tom left "Only love can hurt like this, Must've been a deadly kiss", and it was true love did hurt the way I had been hurting. As I walked into the coffee shop I smelt the strong odor of coffee. I felt a small tingling feeling as I was consuming the smell. I got in line and as soon as I finished ordering I felt two warm strong arms wrapped around my body and I melted mentally.

TOM'S POV

I went into the coffee shop and I instantly noticed Y/N. She had this oversized sweater dress with thigh boots and a black belt wrapped on her waist, paired with the bag I gave to her on our 2 year anniversary.

 I marveled at the simple but beautiful outfit she put together. As I finished looking at her in awe I walked up behind her and hugged her from behind and rested my head in between her neck and shoulder. 

Y/N'S POV

"Hello darling I missed you"

I missed you? I missed you!? What the Fuck!?!? 

I swear if only we weren't in a coffee shop surrounded by people, I would have punched him in the nose the second he wrapped his arms around me

I was mad...No I was livid but being the wife of Tom Holland a world known actor came with its perks. For instance being able to go over Tom's lines with him, which unbeknownst to him helped me perfect my acting skills. So instead of going loose on him I kept my perfect fake smile on, turned around squealed and smothered him in feather kisses along his face.

FLASHBACK

AUTHOR'S POV

Y/n NO!

WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO HUH?

I mean No I don't want you to come with me okay!?

Wow, ok you know what?

what?

I know you are hiding something from me and I am going to find out what you are because we have been married for nearly 10 god damn years okay?! I know you. I know when you lie. I know more of you than you probably ever will! 

Im Not Lying Y/N! OKAY? Im not lying I swear its just I have a lot on my mind right now.

Fine. But do NOT expect me to believe that you aren't LYING!!! BECAUSE I WON'T AND I DON'T

END OF FLASHBACK

TOM'S POV

"Y/n" I said softly

"hm?" y/n hummed lightly in response

"People are watching" I said warily

"I don't Care Let them watch" she said with a huff

"Y/n?" I said again

"whattttt" she groaned

"Food's ready" I said as the barista gave us our drinks and food

"FOOD!" Y/n Squealed eagerly

AUTHORS POV

Both of them got their food and walked towards one of the booths near the corner of the shop surrounded by a wall surrounded by books.

"Sooo how was filming?" y/n said dragging the O's and with a bit of hesitance in her voice.

"It was tiring but I loved it I can't wait for tomorrow I just wish I could stay there forever."

"Of course you do"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh just how you're never home and you decide to just tell your wife that you wish you could stay at your job forever than be home with her. But Oh Wait! You technically have been spending forever there. This is the first time I have seen you in THREE. FUCKING. MONTHS!!! Ok? im tired of this. Im tired of going to sleep at night alone in a fucking apartment you had us move into, so you could be closer to your fucking job! You haven't even bothered to face time. I only hear you once a day. Twice if I get lucky! Im. Tired. Of. This. If only you cared enough. If only you loved me enough to be at home with me at least once a week. If only you'd realize that "this" (you said pointing between both of you) isn't healthy. If only you were there for me when I really needed it." you said as you had finally exploded. You were tired of all the shit he had put you through. You were tired that you never got to see you husband anymore.

Tom was confused, hurt, angry, and disappointed. He was confused as to when things got this bad between you two. He was hurt because he realized you had every right to be upset at him. He was angry with himself because he let things get so out of hand, and he was disappointed in himself because he knew that this was his fault. If only he had gone home more. If only he had talked to you more frequently. If only he would have realized how much he had fucked up. If only he would have tried to be with you more. If only. If only.

ANY Feedback is appreciated! Have a wonderful day or night wherever you are <3

[that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main]

Paintings | Xiao

This got really long but I liked it

Genshin Impact Masterlist ♤♤ "here's the dump"

Xiao watched as he sat on a rock. Y/n painting the scene of night infront of them a lantern by her side.

The Wangshu Inn painting almost complete. How she did it he'd never know.

"Who is that," Xiao questioned looking at the small person standing off into the distance on top of the building, holding their hand out and hovering above their palm a star.

"It's you," Y/n responded.

Xiao kept quiet, Y/n making the last few details to the painting before finishing it off with her small little signature at the bottom corner.

"Alright!" Y/n smiled, "it should be dry in a few it is a bit chilly after all."

She started putting her things away in her art satchel and once she was cleaned up she pulled out a small handheld sketchbook. That was something Xiao was never allowed to look into, and he never knew why, but he allowed it. After all, he was a guest in her space. The two couldn't even be considered friends after all.

Xiao had found her one day in the woods, in a hillcurls camp no less. Luckily no abyss mages around. They surrounded her hanging off her back and arm as they watched her there camp.

Y/n smiled as they cheered the ones standing cheering in a circle causing Y/n to chuckle. It was odd seeing such creatures so passive and around a human no less.  Yet they scurried off at the sight of Xiao. Y/n turning her head he found himself hiding quickly behind the trees. His eyes watched her's which scanned the land in wonder but soon returned to her painting, and Hilcurls slowly made their way back to Y/n, finding their previous spots. Y/n finishing the painting up with the last details in their mask. They go back to cheering and even dragging her over to eat with them while the painting dries. They handed her wild fruits, seeds, and nuts. They happily ate together until Y/n had to leave packing up and waving to her new little friends goodbye. She walked through the forest painting in her arms and satchel around her chest.

Xiao would continue to follow her and watch her paint from afar, slowly growing closer each time. Until Y/n had offered him to join her. He now often watches from behind her sat on a rock or log as she paints the scenery in front of her. 

Xiao looked at the painting she had just finished, returning to the present in the process. Y/n still sketching the newest thing in her book. The leather cover is worn through well from her travels. Yet she closed it and started to finish putting her stuff away once again. 

"Are you hungry?" She questioned.

"No." He spoke.

"Okay then," Y/n said, "Im gonna head back, get somethin to snack on."

Xiao watched as she folded up the easel slipping it in her bag even if it stuck out a litte bit. Touching the canvas carefully it was semi dry; tacky to the touch.

She muttered her something to herself and picked up the canvas carefully by the back post.

"Bye then." Y/n spoke, walking off to her home leaving the lantern for Xiao.

He picked up the lantern, following her steps from a far. She followed the path easily, she had taken it multiple times.

"You can come up here if you wish." Y/n spoke stopping in her steps and looking back at him.

Xiao stopped as well. No response to her words. He hoped to stay far away. Not close. Figuring if he got to close she'd blow away with the wind like the petals to a cherry blossom tree.

"Come on." Y/n spoke gesturing for him to come closer.

His feet listened to her, walking up besides her in silence.

"What do you like to eat?" Y/n questioned.

He didn't respond again, he had gotten to close already.

"Perhaps some Miso soup would be nice." Y/n spoke.

"Almond Tofu..." Xiao responded quietly.

"Almond Tofu?" Y/n spoke, "yeah I can do that."

It was silent the rest of the way to her home, she opening the door and two dogs running out in excitement.

"Hey babies!" She cheered careful of the painting. They spinning in circles and tails going a mile a mintue.

"I missed you too! Aw!" Y/n cheered thet barking in response as she walked in the door, the two following, "please! Make yourself at home! Sorry its a mess!"

The dogs ran back to Xiao, sniffing his feet and legs checking him out as they barked at him.

"Shh." Xiao shushed.

The dogs still barking at him, "no. Shh shh!"

The dogs barks only grew louder.

"Hey! Stop it!" Y/n shouted the dogs running off and jumping onto the near by couch.

Y/n returned shortly a hoodie and some sweats in hand.

"These might fit you if you want to relax." Y/n told him, he still standing there akwardly in the center of her living room as he held the lantern.

Walking up she took the lantern then handed him the set of chlothing.

"I don't-"

"I have some soba took if you want that with your Almond Tofu." Y/n spoke pushing the chlothes to Xiao's chest, "relax okay?"

"But I-"

"How many bowl of tofu you want? Hm? I can make a bunch." Y/n smiled, refusing to let Xiao not have a break.

It was silent for a long moment.

"Three...." he responded quietly.

"Three it is!" Y/n cheered, "there's a bathroom just round the corner. Go change. You like tea?"

Xiao nodded, Y/n smiled, "I'll be back then."

With that she left, he going to the bathroom as instructed. He looked at the walls filled with pictures. Large groups of people at a time. Y/n in all of them, happily hugging someone or smiling. She seemed so happy. Finding the bathroom he walked in, diffrent jars with dried paint filled with paint brushes, brush up sat drying. With tacky wallpaper. He pulled his chlothes off, folding them in a stack as he pulled the sweats on, pulling the hoodie on after words. He had no idea what he was doing an at the end of dressing he had put the large hoodie on backwards he confused on why there was the extra cloth but walked out with his chlothes in his arms. His feet feeling chilly from the cold wood floor. He had accidentally wattled his way into the kitchen. She busy getting the dog food ready and placing them on the floor they both happily eating and she washing her hands.

Turning her head she seen him standing there, smiling she dried her hands and walked over.

"You have this one on backwards. Let me help." Y/n spoke.

The chlothes were gently taken from him, and set on the counter.

"Do you mind if I help you?"

He shook his head no, she smiling.

"Here pull your arms out." Y/n told him.

She watched him struggle to pull his arms out, "here I'll help."

She helped him slip his arms out he following her orders as she pulled the hoodie to face the right way.

"Better?"

He nodded as he put his arms in, now feeling much more comfortable.

"Feel free to explore. Nothings off limits." Y/n told him, "you can learn a bit about me now. And then at dinner you can tell me all about yourself hm?"

"My...self?" He questioned Y/n with a smile nodded going to return to cooking leaving Xiao to explore.

He did as he was ordered. His "exploring" taking him down the same hall filled with pictures and paintings. Yet this time he contuined down past the bathroom. Finding a few doors. The first he opened was her room which he immediately closed. His face a bright red once he realized what it was with a short glance.

The second one he found himself more invited in. Her studio room, walking in carefully he looked around.

What a room of chaos. Paint everywhere, both in and out of tubes. Brushes, jars of water. Tarps covering what he assumed was her canvases, both painted and waiting for that splash of color. He looked up at the walls covered in sketches and reference images taped to the original peices.

She had a wall covered in portraits which drew him in the most. He had realized some of them, such as the traveller, and his companion. Some of the Lyuie gods were drawn, he figured she had refrences them from books or ancient carvings. All impressive yes, yet one section caught his eye. Drawings of him, most likely refrences from when he sat with her in silence. Drawings of his hands and tattoos covered diffrent pages, and as he grew closure to the center they got more detailed, more him: drawings that were just his hands soon turned into his face. All holding the same, no existant expression of solitutde.

There was a soft meow as he turned his head, a cat sitting on the open windowsill. Tiliting its head to the side as Xiao copies the motion, the cat having big green eyes as it mewowed. Dropping down to the wooden floor and strolling over to Xiao rubbing its head on his leg.

"Xiao!? I finished!" Y/n called as the dogs rushed into the art room, Xiao scooping up the cat at lighting speed, the dogs barked up at the cat.

"Hey! What did I tell you guys!" She argued, "get in here! And bring Sunny if shes in there!"

The dogs sat down looking at Xiao, the cat jumping out of his arms as one of the dogs picked her up by the back of her neck they rushing away. Xiao following the animals back into the kitchen, Y/n setting a bowl of fish down and the dogs setting the cat down she quickly went over to eat.

Xiao was handed two bowls, he following her lead to her small nook with windows on all sides. She set her bowls down he doing the same, sitting down he expected her to follow but she left. Returning with a tea pot and cups.

"Sakura tea." Y/n spoke with a smile setting a cup down infront of him and pouring the pink liquid.

He watched as the scent filled his nose. It was sweet and welcoming. He didn't remember much about that dinner, he knew the food tasted amazing, but he was focused on her. Her smile as he told her whatever she asked, it was bad.

This was bad. His amber eyes so focused on her smile, she alll ears, and his mouth ran. It ran for miles, he saying things he never should of told her about: he an adapti, he knew Morax, he knew the other adapti, he spilled it all out. Just to get closer to her. To just touch her hand.

How bad this was.

"You sound like you have the quiet handful." Y/n chuckled, "I suppose I should thank you for protecting me without even knowing, so in return anything you want I can get you."

Anything?

Xiao was quiet as he started to finish off the last of his Almond Tofu.

"Hey. I don't know if Adapti sleep. But." Y/n smiled, "wanna stay here for the night?"

Xiao stopped eating, "I...sleep in the same bed as you?"

"Ah well." She spoke rubbing the nape of her neck, her face turning red, "I have a spare bedroom...though if you wanted my bed I usually sleep in my art room."

It was silent, Y/n lifting the cup of tea to her lips. Eyeing Xiao as she did.

"I can tell you don't spend time with people much." Y/n told him setting the cup down, "A bit rough for words?"

Xiao nodding both in thought and answer, causing Y/n to smile.

"That's alright. The only time I talk to anyone human is if Im making a sale. People aren't exactly my thing." She spoke.

"The drawings on the wall?"

"From a distance, picture wise they were mostly forced upon me. But if I do have anyone over I'd like them to think Im not such a loner with a hord of animals." She joked, "truth be told I think your the only human Friend I ever had. You know. And the only adapti friend. Think its one of the reasons I've been able to draw you so much."

Xiao sipped his tea, she just openly admited it? Like it was no big deal.

"Do. Do I only make one expression?" He questioned.

"Ah. I didn't mean it in a bad way. Sorry." Y/n apologized, "honestly, like I said, your the only friend I've really had, you stick around giving me more opportunities."

"And the Hillcurls? Ruin Gaurds?" He questioned.

"Well I helped a Hillcurl from drowning one time. Only a child Im supposing since then all those guys have been sticken around. Sometimes. I open my door and there's a group of them holding things they stolen, they've tried to give me." Y/n told him, "I always give it back to the owner. Or give it to local authorities. Just drop it off in crates infront of there place of bussniess."

"It has vaule. Why don't you sell it?" Xiao questioned, "Humans like mora."

"Mora has no use to me really. I have my own garden, built my own home from scratch. I know how to fish, boil water. I make my own paints, my own canvas." Y/n told him, "I have no reason for Mora. I just take it to be nice. I have Mora all the way from my first painting actually."

"Then why keep it around?"

Y/n shurgged, "Maybe it makes my house just feels fuller. It's not very warm though."

Y/n kept her gaze on the small pool of syrup at the bottom of her almond tofu bowl. Then looked up at him, "say."

He raised his eyebrows in question.

"Let me paint you one day." Y/n spoke, "a big peice. I know a cherry blossom tree that stays pink year round."

"Me?" Xiao spoke.

Y/n nodded, "Yeah. It'd be a nice little picnic. I can make some more almond tofu, I seen you ate all of it."

Xiao flushed looking down at his clean bowl, syurp and all gone, the bowl itself might as well as be clean.

"Whattya say?" Y/n smiled, "A win win right?"

Xiao could only nod in response, he truly had no idea what he was getting into and neither did Y/n.

He had no idea what it would grow into what it did. What did it grow into? Well, Y/n had started off with the simple painting of Xiao under the cherry tree, she was quick at capturing poses, he holding a cherry blossom in hand. Looking at it blankly. She happily submitted it to a Lyuie art show, for fun. Nothing expected out of it. Yet it hit town hard, people echanted by a beatiful man holding a beautiful petal.

Y/n or Xiao didn't get much wind of it they both locked away in her humble abode with smiles starting to grow on each other's face. The next one hit Monstat pretty hard as well. Xiao looking frustrated as he attempted to paint, the cat rest on his shoulders as he did.

She was a faceless name, popularity growing to her name without her even knowing. Slowly everything started to get even more personal, her emotions and paintings included. She couldn't help but feel Xiao tug at her heart every time there was a sleepy good morning fall from his lips. Or a "what's this page about today?'

She loved every moment of it. Paintings grew from just random ideas to daily life, petting dogs, gardening, swinging on a hammock.

Yet at the same time she hated it. How lonely he looked in all them, despite an animal or a line of sight directed towards the audience showing that they were ment to be involved too.

It made her lonely.

Xiao walked into her art studio, cups of tea in hand.

"What's this one today?' He questioned kissing her temple as he found his spot next to her on the bench.

"Some fruit."

Xiao frowned, Fruit? She hated painting, drawing, sketching, shading fruit. With a passion. She never explained why but he knew she didn't like it.

Taking a sip of tea which was handed to her he looked at the blank canvas. She always envisioned her paintings before doing one.

"How come you never paint you?" He questioned.

"You're awful talktive today," Y/n spoke bluntly, realizing her tone she apologized quickly, "Sorry, just. Lost right now."

"Should I come find you?" Xiao questioned drinkimg his teas as Y/n laughed.

"Maybe I need a bit of finding." Y/n spoke.

He smiled smally, leaning over and kissed her on the lips softly, she slowly kissing back.

Slolwy they pulled away Y/n smiling at him as he rubbed her bottom lip.

"I found you." Xiao smiled.

She laughed, snorting a bit as she covered her mouth in reaponse. He covered his mouth.

"Are. Are you laughing at me?" She protested he shaking his head trying not to laugh.

She smiled deviously, "You're laughing because I snorted!?"

He nodded his head not being able to keep a lie and let out a laugh, Y/n smiling at the sound of it.

"Well I know exactly what Im gonna paint now." Y/n protested.

"Yeah? Lets hope it's not a bowl of fruit." He spoke.

"And you're gonna help me."

"Oh really?" He spoke, Y/n with a chuckle leaned over kissing him hard, he smiling kissing back.

The next painting submitted to Mondstat's newest art show was a painting of him in her in the background. Framing the painting was her art room, and a bowl of fruit in the right hand corner.

Signed Y/n and X in the corner.

[that-one-weeb-but-starwars]

Help a sister Out? And Maybe all her brothers| Omega

Note: Omegas a growing kid (Like 11 or 12 I think she is) and of course...has to deal with female problems yay...puberty...

Warnings: uh puberty talk- is that a warning? Idk Omega learns a curse word too

Reader: Female

"Y/n. Y/n! Please get up!" Omega begged the sleeping woman as quick as she could, tucked under her bunk mates arm.

"Mhmm...Omega?" Y/n questioned turning around to face her, seeing the worried look on the girl's face.

"What's wrong?" Y/n spoke sitting up making sure not to disturb Tech, the worried on Omega's face scarred her, had something happened?

"I-I'm bleeding..." Omega spoke embarrassed.

"Bleeding?" Y/n questioned.

Omega nodded tears threatening to fall, "I-I didn't hurt myself, I know I didn't- but Im bleeding and I-"

"Omega, sweety calm down." Y/n spoke sitting up escaping Tech's arm, "tell me everything."

"I woke up-and I- I felt blood running down my leg- a-and. I- I didn't wanna wake Hunter- so I woke you and..."

Y/n only nodded, "go to the refresher and we'll talk."

Omega nodded in response rushing off, grabbing her personal bag she stowed away for both space and personal reasons she walked back to the refresher.

"Get in the shower and clean yourself, Don't worry I'll explain everything while you're in there," Y/n explained as she nodded rushing to turn the water on a strip of her clothes. Y/n washing Omeag's clothes in the sink.

"Omega when we stop at the next city, I'll take you shopping, if you'd like I can make you a set of blacks but need the fabric, you have extra clothes right?"

"Only one set...in my bunk..."She spoke worriedly, "why is this happening?"

Y/n frowned at her whispering washing the blood down the drain, "It's okay Omega. It's natural. It means your getting older. I know. It sucks...."

"I'm not gonna die?" She questioned.

"What? No." Y/n responded, "It just means your getting older like I said, I get the same too."

"You do?"

"Yep. It's natural and means you're healthy."

"Oh..." Omega responded, "does Hunter and them get this?"

"No. They don't." Y/n responded, "It comes with being a female is all. I'll be back let me get your extra clothes."

"Okay..."

Y/n rushed to get Omega's extra set of clothes, carefully walking through the isle of sleeping men retrieving her clothes, and rushing back to Omega.

"I got them." Y/n spoke going back to ringing out Omega's clothes, "you almost done?"

"Mhmm," Omega spoke as Y/n washed her hands, making Omega a small bag.

Turning the water off she handed Omega a towel.

"I stopped bleeding," Omega spoke.

"For now, " y/n responded Omega stepping out in a towel.

"For now?" Omega questioned.

"Here."

Y/n kneeled down holding a colorfully wrapped item.

"This is a pad, it'll help with your period, you have to change it every so often," Y/n responded.

"I have to wear this?"

"I mean don't have to. But... it's highly recommended, you know blood everywhere...." Y/n told her.

"Oh... how?" Omega questioned.

"Well... it'll absorb your blood. It's the reason you have to change it every so often. It goes in your...uh underwear."

Y/n had to admit she had never explained a period to another person, not another man or woman. And none the less a child.

"O-okay."

"I'll turn around so I'll be here if you need help but you'll still have privacy"

Omega nodded as Y/n stood up turning her head into the corner as Omega took her time trying to figure it out, but eventually did.

"I-its weird..." she spoke pulling up her pants, "you can turn around."

Y/n turned back around as Omega wore a T-shirt, pulling her other shirt over.

"You'll get used to it. But keep this."

She handed Omega a bag, "why?"

"It has extra. Just in case."

Omega nodded, "thank you..."

Y/n nodded, "When we all wake up and are on the move me and you can talk."

Omega hugged her as Y/n patted her head, "go back to bed now. But wake me up if you need help."

Omega nodded as she went back to bed, Y/n putting Omega's wet clothes in a plastic bag she had, she'd have to wash them next time they'd stop.

Washing her hands thoroughly she went back to bed, sliding in next to Tech who draped his arm around her and went back to sleep.

In the morning, she was woken by Tech climbing over her.

"Sorry." He apologized.

"It's okay..." she spoke letting him get out of the bunk and her following.

"Hunter's been asking for you as well. I did explain to him you need your sleep. But it seems Im the hypocrite in this situation."

"Tech. It's fine really, where's Hunter?"

"Everyone except Omega and myself in the cockpit."

Y/n nodded as she got up, following Tech in, they all had just woken up caf in their hands.

"What's the problem?" Y/n questioned Wrecker handing her a cup, "thanks."

"It's Omega. She won't come out her bunk." Hunter spoke.

"Okay?" Y/n questioned, "and?"

"And?! And?! We've tried getting her out but she says she really tired, and then says her stomach hurts- She won't let Tech in to see her! And Im worried she's sick!-"

Y/n watched bluntly as the others sipped their caff along with her.

"You seem to not care!" Hunter argued.

"Okay." Y/n responded, "she's a young person with a whole bunch of older people, What do you expect? She wants her own time."

"Why is she in pain?"

"Because she's growing," Y/n spoke.

"Growing?" Hunter spoke, "It shouldn't be painful to grow!"

"Well growing pains are common amongst the clones." Tech responded, "then again Omega does not have accelerated growth."

"Right so it means her pains gonna last a lot longer than yours." Y/n told them, "you know, she going through things, she gonna get these two monstrosities called breast, and she gonna be able to have a baby-"

"She's a baby herself she doesn't need to be having kids-" Hunter spoke.

"Well, that's what a period does. It basically helps your fertility, and cycles out all the old stuff. It comes in the form of-"

She looked at the men who held confused faces.

"What?" She questioned.

"We have no idea what you just told us," Hunter spoke.

"Wha-" Y/n spoke as she looked at Tech, "Tech?! Not you too-"

"Uh... breasts are nice? I don't think they're any help, they've saved you once or twice."

"How?"

"That commando droid couldn't stab you hard enough between your armor and your breast. You were saved." Tech spoke.

"I remember that! Tech's got a point!" Wrecker cheered, "so Omega will get extra protection! That's a win!"

"Yeah but some people like to stare," Echo spoke, "like that one time at 79s. Remember when that guy said Y/n had implants."

"Oh. I never understood why that argument happened" Wrecker spoke, "But it ended in a fight! And Y/n kicked his ass!"

"You can't always look at the bright side." Echo defended.

"Well, why not!" Wrecker argued.

"Because what benefits you could hurt someone else. And sometimes there's just not a good side to look at." Echo told, "it's common sense."

"See Echo gets it," Y/n responded sipping her drink.

"Okay! So what do we do!?" Hunter questioned.

"She'll be fine in a week-"

"A WEEK!? What are we gonna do!?" Hunter argued.

Y/n shrugged, "He's overreacting."

"he tends to do that occasionally," Tech told sipping his caff.

That's when Omega came out of her room, Hunter froze and going to kneel down to hug her but she rushed to hide behind Y/n.

"ooo ouch..." Wrecker spoke.

"c-can we go? now?" Omega questioned as Y/n nodded, "Okay me and Omega are leaving, bye."

"what-" Hunter watched Y/n grab her back and leave, "I-"

The two walked out the hanger and out of sight.

"M-My baby..." Hunter cried dramatically.

"Dude needs a hobby," Echo spoke.

"Agreed," Tech spoke.

"You make a good point." Wrecker agreed

[greenorangevioletgrass]

The photo of hazzy boo in the red blazer is giving me soft rich kid haz vibes 😩 like he was dreading his mum dragging him to a luncheon but he met you and you two just hit off from the get go

omg YES im all about richkid!hazzy boo and i need to write this now bye

cw: richkid!haz, richkid!reader, weed, language, smut (fingering, general obsession with haz's hands)

***

There's jackshit to do in Berkshire.

Not that Harrison would complain. He'd be more than happy to walk the manor grounds and hide out with a book and a spliff --that definitely beats a grand luncheon his mother practically dragged him to attend.

It'll be good, she said. You can never start networking too early.

But Harrison's been at this event for half an hour and he's filled up his quota for small talk for the day. He slips out of the banquet hall, looking for a peaceful cigarette break, when he hears a quiet fuck! from behind a corner pillar.

"You didn't see anything!" you come out of hiding, putting out what seems to be a cigarette and fixing up your flowy blue dress, finding this unfamiliar boy with an unlit cigarette between his lips.

God, he's cute. Like something out of 80's Vogue with his red blazer and wide-collared shirt. And of course it's just your luck to meet him when you're high off your kite.

He takes out his cigarette to say something, but you cut him off.

"You did not see anything," you repeat, more threatening than the first time.

"I--" he raises his hands in surrender, not getting what you mean at first, and then catches the unmistakable smell in the air. "Are you smoking--"

"Problem? Because I don't know you, but I'll find out and you're not gonna like what I'm gonna do to you if you rat--"

"Relax! I was just wondering if I can have some," he chuckles, his light shrug a stark contrast to your standoffish stance.

"Oh," you simply respond. Feeling a bit dumb that you were ready to throw hands for nothing. You sit on the steps and pat the empty spot next to you wordlessly.

He follows suit and takes the blunt you offered, putting it between his lips. And she's quick to reach for her zippo, leaning in to light it for him.

"Sorry about earlier. Most people are pricks here --they're just dying to see me fuck up," you try to explain, your voice softening a bit.

"Nah, I gotcha." he's quick to brush it off. Quiet, as he takes a deep drag and hands it back to you. "I'm Harrison."

A smile sneaks up on the corner of your lips. You put the joint there and shake his hand. "Y/N."

He repeats your name to himself, and you secretly think it's adorable how he does it.

"So what brings you out here, Harrison?"

"To Berkshire or this... courtyard?" he motions at the manicured topiary around them.

"Both."

"My mum insisted I come out here. Somehow. But it's so fucking stuffy in there, innit?"

You burst out laughing. "Oh God, you're so right! It is stuffy as fuck in there..."

You spend a good half an hour just shitting on everybody you met in the luncheon (Harrison even accidentally shat on your father, but you loved it. He is a right prick.) In the span of maybe 20 minutes, you're giggling and bantering and flirting like you've known each other your whole life.

"So what are you up to?" Harrison asks.

"Now? I'm finishing up my joint with this fucking dude I just met," you quip without missing a beat, sending him into a fit of laughter.

"No, man. I mean, like.. in life."

"Ah, fuck if I know. But I do know this..." you pause, mostly for dramatic effect but also for some time to gather your thoughts. "I'm feeling a bit snacky, so I'm gonna nip some hors d'oeuvre, maybe a bottle of champagne. Wanna come?"

Harrison chuckles, but it dies down as he watches you stand up and pack up your zippo into a metal case and tucks it in your thigh garter.

"Shit. What are you, a spy? What else have you got in there?" he casually blurts out, shamelessly eyeing the slit in your dress.

"Why don't you go ahead and find out?" you stretch your exposed leg teasingly.

"Seriously?" He gulps. His thumb absently strokes your ankle, right where your shoe strap is digging in.

"Mm-hm," you quietly nod, meeting his ocean blue eyes.

Harrison drags his hand up your calf, drawing loops on the back of your knee and inner thigh. The coldness of his rings makes you shiver as he finds the cigarette box on your garter, a stark contrast to the silky warmth just a little further up. Right on your folds.

"You're not wearing anything underneath?" he gapes, his mouth salivating as he says that out loud.

You shake your head.

The next thing you know, Harrison shoots up to his feet and pins you against the white stucco wall, devouring your lips as his fingers slip through your wet folds and relieve your swollen clit.

Your nipples harden under his ministration, and he can't resist peeling down the spaghetti straps and bending down to suck at your marvelous tits.

"Fuck, you're so pretty," he breathes out as he plunges a finger inside you.

A desperate moan escapes your lips and his free hand is quick to fly up to your mouth, muffling your beautiful sounds. Another fingers slips inside, stretching you and scissoring you so good, you feel like blacking out.

He hits your sweet spot and you bite back another moan, tearing off his hand on your mouth and replacing it with, well, his mouth. His thumb comes into play and you just feel enshrouded by him. His hand on your core, his body-- his lips against yours. He closes in like he knows what to do with you and presses on until you explode, convulsing and writhing in silent pleasure.

And moments later, you start fixing up your hair and your dress and your makeup, as Harrison stands dazed, forehead pressing into yours, fingers still snug between your legs.

You slip his hand away, taking it to your mouth and smearing it on your lips. "Why don't we... take this upstairs, hmm?"

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out as your mouth closes in on each finger, sucking all your juices til it's clean. His bright eyes darken, and he simply groans out a yes. He is hard under his trousers and you can't wait to see, to taste, to feel what's underneath.

"Meet me by the stairs in the East Wing in 3 minutes. I'll be back with champagne." you kiss him on the corner of his mouth and saunter away.

And it's a little fucked up to remember his mum in that exact moment, but Harrison looks up to the sky and thinks,

Thank fuck he came along to Berkshire.

[k3rm1e]

hiihi !! ive been loving all the stuuf yoube been wirting latley its so good :^D i ws wondering if i ciuld have some hcs ,or just a onrshot either or i dont mind, of reader geeting sick and mumza nd dadza take care of them ?? bc i lovr mr and mrs minecraft <33 liek like reader like "ahh im finr mr minecraft" and they have 102° fever Nd have a runny nose and mr minecatft is liek "mmm no i dont thnik so m8" nd yaeh !! they/them pronouns but i thnk uve benn doing that arleady - :^) anon

sickly

hiihi !! ive been loving all the stuuf yoube been wirting latley its so good :^D i ws wondering if i ciuld have some hcs ,or just a onrshot either or i dont mind, of reader geeting sick and mumza nd dadza take care of them ?? bc i lovr mr and mrs minecraft <33 liek like reader like "ahh im finr mr minecraft" and they have 102° fever Nd have a runny nose and mr minecatft is liek "mmm no i dont thnik so m8" nd yaeh !! they/them pronouns but i thnk uve benn doing that arleady - :^) anon

:^) anon my beloved;;;;; i love your brain. this could go two ways depending on whether you’re staying with phil or if you guys are online so i went with your staying with him. i also did a one shot but if you want hcs i hv no problem writing some :) i hope this is good!

cw: cursing

mumza and dadza take care of you:

  it had finally happened. while covid wasn't fully over just yet, many had gotten the vaccine and conventions were opening up again. which meant two things: meetups and twitchcon. finally, you could meet some of your supporters and see your friends.

  “mom, are we almost there?” your mom was driving you to the airbnb you’d be staying at with a few of the other dream smp members. at first, you assumed you’d all be staying in separate hotel rooms. but, this way, you could spend more time with friends, save money, and your mom wouldn’t have to be with you the whole time. there had already been many long conversations between philza and your mom to make sure you’d be safe staying with everyone.

  “yes, sweetie. almost there. we’re just two minutes closter than when you asked earlier.” ok, sue you, maybe you were a bit excited. but really, who could blame you? making in person friends had never been easiest, so the majority of your friendship were with people online. not being able to see or meet anyone for so long had been excruciatingly painful. 

  within ten minutes, you had finally arrived at the airbnb. quickly jumping out you ran to the door, obnoxiously ringing the doorbell. through the door, you heard an accented voice yell out, “i’m coming, i’m coming!”. at this point you were springing up and down on your tippy-toes, ready to spring out of your skin.

  the door opened and you were greeted by a very tired and annoyed looking wilbur, “hello?”.

`   “WILBURRRR!!!” you were screaming in his face (unintentionally), waking him up from his drowsiness. you launched yourself in his arms, not paying attention to your mother’s bewildered expression. you quickly let go of him and shoved past him, “i’m gonna go say hi to everyone!” distantly you heard wilbur begin to talk to your mother, explaining what you guys were doing.

  while running around you said hi to tommy, tubbo, ranboo, eret, fundy, niki, techno, phil and kristin. the others were either staying in another airbnb or in their own hotel rooms. after about thirty minutes, wilbur had finally stopped talking to your mom.

  “yes, ma’am. i can promise you they’ll be completely safe. you have absolutely nothing to worry about.” wilbur was calmly talking with your mother, looking more and more tired by the minute.

  “alright. thank you.�� your mother called you over. “come give me a hug and say bye!” slowly dragging your limbs over, you let her hug you. behind you you could hear wilbur and phil laughing at you.

  “bye mom…” she was holding onto you tightly, petting down your hair.

  “oh, sweetie, i love you so much. i’m so happy you found something you're passionate about and made so many lovely friends while doing so.” as much as you loved your mom, the small snickers behind you were getting quite embarrassing. you could hear that tommy had joined in on the laughing. 

  “... i love you too, mom. can you let go now?” you tried pulling back, but all she did was pull you closer.

  “oh, but i just don’t wanna let you go. i love you so much, you know that right?”

  “i know, mom. i love you too. but you’ve gotta get home and i have to unpack and get ready for meeting with fans tomorrow.” you finally got her to pull away, “i love you mom, okay? thank you for letting me do this.”

  “oh, i love you too, sweetie.” and with that, your mom left. after watching her pull out of the driveway and down the street, you whipped around.

  “not. a. single. word.” you stared dead in the boy’s eyes, seeing just how much wilbur was about to burst out laughing.

  “what? personally, i think it’s very sweet.” tommy was smiling, purposely pissing you off. “so sweet, how much your mom loves you.”

  “shut your fucking mouth, tommy.” you stared deadpan at him and began walking inside and over to the kitchen.

  “what? i didn’t say anything wrong! i was just simply commenting on your very, very sweet relationship with your mother.”

  kristin moved forward to talk to you, “for what it’s worth, i do thing you hae a very sweet relationship with your mom.”

  “thank you. you’re the only good one in this house, kristin minecraft.” with that she laughed, and you all continued on with your evening. after staying up late watching old youtube videos, you all went to bed. in the morning you would have your first day of three at twitchcon, meeting fans and other creators alike. 

  for around 10 hours, you stood in booths signing fanart, prints, notebooks, and the like. meeting so many different people was eye opening, just learning who supported you. at the end of the day everyone went to a restaurant to eat dinner after so long.

  “this food… is so… fucking good.”

  “agreed.” you and the rest of the so-called ‘bench trio’ were eating at what wilbur had deemed the ‘kiddy table’. after eating so much food you were all tired. the rest of your friends had already left, walking back to the airbnb. when it was finally time to leave the restaurant, it was pouring rain.

  “WHY IS THE RAIN SO COLD IT’S LITERALLY SUMMER”

  after running home you had gone to sleep while the others had changed and taken showers. after sleeping for around ten hours, you had finally woken up. frankly, you felt like dogshit. you could barely breathe out of your stuffy nose and your head felt like it had been shoved full of wet cotton balls.

  instead of staying in bed, you got up and tried to get ready. on the way downstairs to get food and see who was making so much noise, you fell face first down the stairs. “owwwww…”

  hearing a ruckus, phil and kristin left the kitchen, where they were making pancakes. “holy shit! are you alright, mate?”

  pushing phil over, kristin walked over to you, “obviously they’re not okay phil! the poor kid is lying on the floor.”

  slowly getting up, you try to reassure both of them that you’re okay. “no, no, no, don’t worry. i am perfectly okay.” while you don’t know exactly how you sound, based on the expression on phil’s face, you don't think you sound very good.

  “uh, yeah, how about no. you sound like you’ve draken a whale bottle of vodka.” phil walked over to you and grabbed you by the arm, trying to hold you up.

  “i’m fineeee”

  “no, your fucking not. you’re burning up.” phil looked at you, angrily. “you need to go to bed.”

  “but i don’t wannaaaaa. i feel fineeee.” you felt like crying, for absolutely no reason. with that, you passed out on the floor.

  phil and kristin somehow managed to get you back up the stairs and into bed. once you were safely in your room, with no risk of cracking your skull open, phil took your temperature. “mate, your temperature is at nearly 102°. you’re lucky i don’t take you to a hospital.” he started at you, disapprovingly.

  “i’m sorryyyyy dadza. are you mad at me?” in your deluded state you pouted at him, like a child.

  “no, i’m not mad at you. just disappointed. you should’ve known not to do that. you’re old enough to know when you’re sick.” he stared at you with a disapproving look.

  “but that’s even worseeeeee” you felt like balling your eyes out. out of embarrassment, you tried to hide under your blanket. “can you tell mumza i’m sorry for worrying her?”

  above you, you heard phil laugh. “it’s not that big a deal, kid. i’m just upset. you could’ve seriously hurt yourself. i was worried.”

  “you were worried about me? awwwww, i love you too dadza.” you moved your head out of the blankets, smiling at him with dried tears and sweat on your face.

  “yeah, yeah. now shut up and go to bed.”

  kristin walked in, hearing what he said. “phil, don’t bully the kid. they already feel like shit.” out of the corner of your eye, you saw her look over to phil and smile at him.

  “i’m not doing anything, swear on my life!” he put his hands up in defense of himself, making you laugh.

  turning away from him, she directed her next question towards you. “how you feeling, kid? took quite a tumble there.” she smiled at you and ushed your hair out of your face.

  “i’m sorry for worrying youuuuuu. i love you, mumza. promise.”

  laughing, she leaned down to kiss you on the head. “love you too, kid. now, want me to sit with you and we can all watch some netflix or something?”

  you silently nodded and the two of them joined you on the bed, not caring very much if they got sick. after not even an hour, you all passed out.

  a few hours later, everyone returned back from the convention. let’s just say wilbur now had some very valuable blackmail.

hope you like it! this was so wholesome i- wfowcsjvri

i want parents like dadza and mumza now

[niceminipotato]

And the other I made earlier cuz someone asked for Meddison softness and I’m a nice mini potato 🥰

Imagine Addison at Joe’s one night a bit tipsy and stuff. Not quite black out drunk, just filter lacking drunk. Anyway she’s tipsy and she sees Meredith walk in with her friends. She watches the little group head to a corner of the bar. Then Joe comes by and looks at her with a questioning look and she’s smiles.

A: I don’t hate her

J: I’m sorry, what?

A: Grey… I don’t hate her

J: oh… that’s nice

A: She thinks I do but I don’t and I told her

J: then she knows

A: Nope. She was too high to know

J: I see

A: She called me pretty

J: did you call her pretty back?

A: No…

J: …

A: …

J: well, do you want another round? Or a cab?

A: Im gonna tell her

J: Addison, I think it’s better if you go home

While they’re having their conversation Meredith approaches the bar to order a round for her and her friends. She spots Addison and slowly shifts over to the redhead.

A: isn’t home where the heart is?

J: I believe that’s the saying

A: ok… I’m gonna tell my home she’s pretty

M: how’s that work?

J: Hey, Mer. I think you might want to-

A: Look it Joe

J: Addison, I’m gonna get you that cab

A: I’m not that drunk just tipsy which-

J: loosens your tongue. I know. I’m only trying to keep you from embarrassing yourself

A: I’m fine

M: Addison are you sure you’re-

A: I think you’re pretty too

M: w-what

A: you told me I was pretty when I told you I didn’t hate you and I sorta forgot to say it back. Or maybe I was too stunned to tell you because then you also said I was way too hot and then I was thinking about how you’re hot too and I wished you were stuck deciding if you should date me instead of those two idiots.

After Addison stops talking they all grow quiet for a few minutes. Meredith’s face is completely red and Joe is over there smirking while Addison only looks at the blonde with a silly smile

A: I’m gonna regret saying that. Aren’t I?

J: only if she doesn’t want to date you -he mutters quickly-

A: True. But I’ll still be mortified for a few days. I think I’ll get that cab now.

J: one cab coming up

——

It has been a few days since the bar incident and you guessed it, Addison has been hiding from Meredith. Every time she sees her walking around she finds an on call room or supply closet of patient room. No matter where she hides. Until she finds herself crouched behind the counter of the nurses station one day and gets pissed at her cowardice. Next time she sees Meredith they’re at the cafeteria. She had the urge to run but decided against it and instead walks to Meredith once she’s left alone.

A: hey

M: hey, yourself

A: so…

M: Yeah?

A: Date?

M: you won’t hide afterwards

Meredith looks at her with amusement in her eyes and a smirk that Addison would very much like to wipe off her face. She takes a deep breath and leans down taking Meredith’s confused face in her hands and planting a kiss on her lips. She pulls away with a smug smirk.

A: I’ll pick you up at 8 tonight?

She then chuckles when all Meredith manages is a nod.

A: See you then Dr. Grey

M: ok

Wrote it between work calls. Do not judge too much on punctuation and stuff lol or in backstory or development I can’t do that much when I’m working 😅 Anyway bye!!

[wonusite]

hello hellooooo!! i'm not sure if you are taking requests but if you're not, u can ignore this heheh

but i was thinking about childhood best friends, good boy!shua gone badboy!shua. your family sees each other every year at christmas in your yearly holiday beach house. you guys are very close, knowing every single corner of each other. now you haven't seen shua since you both left for college 👀👀 and so he rocks up in a classic leather jacket, motorbike roaring and probably the most tempting you've ever seen him 🫠

something happened the year before, and you didn't know what made him like this. but you find yourself soaked with every light and lingering touch he gives you. ones that used to be innocent when you were kids and now not so innocent 🫠

had this concept playing in my head for a while now 🫣 bye im gonna go hide now

HOLD TF UP U CAN’T JUST LEAVE AFTER LEAVING THIS AMAZING CONCEPT!!!

no bc imagine the PINING the TENSION 🤌🏼

i wont know peace until i write this down shsbshsb

trust that this will come to life

[jollyrancher87]

Punch Drunk

🐸Mando x Fem! Reader🐸

Because we need some serotonin Right NOW!! Please excuse any misspellings I rushed editied this.

Summary: Mando has had a little TOO much fun after capturing a very lucrative bounty.

Rating: soft M, just to be safe, it gets a lil saucy. 18+

Warnings: Fem! Reader, drunk Mando, mentions of saucy intentions, sweet talk, Soft! Mando, a little bit of an emotional drunken Mando, slight breeding kink maybe?

🐸🐸🐸

It had taken you hours, but you had finally gotten the Child settled into bed. He'd been an absolute terror today. Refuseing to eat his meals, he always preferred when Din fed him. He threw a fit when you tried to give him a bath, wailing and climbing up you when you tried to set him into the warm water, Din always knew how to get him in the tub with no problem. Tucking him into bed, forget it. He kept sneaking out whenever you turned your back. You knew why he was so fussy, Din had been gone for two days from the Crest. A bounty was offered to him by Greef Karga, far too lucrative to ignore, he said he'd be back as soon as possible. You knew better than to worry, but still, a twist always formed in your gut when you looked out the hatch and didn't see him makeing his way home on his speeder.

You settled down into the cot, the lights dimmed, a night of restless sleep ahead of you. Nothing but the soft breath of The Child, and the hum of the Crest to keep you company. You almost drifted off to sleep, but the hiss of the hatch opening startled you awake. Your heart jumped to your throat as you reached for the blaster you kept under the cot, ready to face the intruder despite how much you were shaking. The booted footsteps of two people echoed through the hull, men you could only assume, you were ready to scramble over to a hiding spot until you heard the distinct laugh of Karga.

Your shoulders dropped, you felt dizzy as your adrenaline fell, but the relief you felt out weighed any discomfort. You sank onto your knees on the cot, putting the blaster back under the cot.As they made their way into the hull, you suddenly remembered you had stripped down to your thin silken underdress. You wrapped your blanket around yourself to hide the sheer fabric from your guests eyes.

You let out a gasp as they rounded the corner. Greef was struggling to walk as he bared the beskar covered weight of Din. Greef had one of Dins arms braced across his shoulders while he held onto Dins waist. Din's helmet covered head lolling from side to side, his feet practically dragging, his body leaning to the side like he was about to fall over, incoherent mumbling coming through his modulater. Karga laughed and patted his back.

"You've arrived my friend." He noticed you in the bed,"oh, please excuse us, we didn't mean to wake you."

You scrambled from the cot, not careing about how sheer you shift was. You rushed to Din, your hands settling on his helmet, trying to keep his head up.

"Maker! What happened? Is he hurt?" You asked Karga frantically,"Din? Mando? Are you alright?"

"He's fine, he's fine." Karga assured, as he slowy helped Din stand on his own," we were just celebrating! The biggest bounty he's ever acquired, in the shortest time too!" He pat Dins shoulder, the sudden impact makeing Din lean into you. You let out a squeak of suprise from how heavy he was. Karga swore and apologized again as he helped Din stand up right.

"So...he's-"

"Drunk!" Karga laughed,"and he deserves it, that bounty can buy you both a new ship. Hell it could buy you a palace. He'd never have to work again if he wanted. Course we know that won't happen."

"How did he get drunk?" You asked,"He can't drink anything with his helmet on."

"Thats where you're wrong," Mando said, his voice slurred and slow, his head lolling to the side,"I can.....jus need a really....really...really long straw."

"Oh Din." You sigh.

Din suddenly gripped Kargas jacket pulling him up to him.

"L-look at her..." Din slurred through the modulator as he gazed at you," She's so...pretty." he says,"have you ever seen anyone so pretty?" Karga just laughed but was cut off when Din shook him, "Well HAVE YOU?" he snapped.

"No, can't say I have Din." Karga reassured, patting his hand,"You're a very lucky man."

You felt your face grow warm at the complement. You dipped your head and made your way to help take off Dins jetpack.

"I am lucky," he mummered," prettiest girl on the whole galaxy...on my ship...caring for my son." You heard a faint sniffle from him as you set the heavy pack on the ground.

"Its ok,Din." You say softly, placing your hand on his chest plate. He rested his leather clad hand over yours as he looked down at you."Thank you for bringing him back to me in one piece," you said to Karga,"I can take it from here."

Karag nodded and said his good bye, slapping Din on the back before leaving, the hatch shutting with a loud thud.

You looked up to Din, his gaze burning through his visor down to you as he slightly wobbled. Suddenly he lunged forward, his helmet smacked against your face, making it sting. His hands gripping your ass , kneeding it harshly.

"Ow! Din!," you cried, he rubbed his helmet against your face as you gripped his armored shoulders,"what are you doing?" You half laughed.

"Kissing you." He mumbled,"I just wanna kiss you."

You laughed,"Din-"

"Im gonn buy you all the jewels-"

"You know I dont need those-"

"Furs-"

"Din," you coo, carressing his helmet.

"A home."

"That I'd love," you sigh wrapping your arms around his neck as he rests his helmet against your shoulder,"you and me and the Child, in a cozy little home-"

"Gonna fill it with warriors," he mumbled,"a new one..... every year."

You laughed,"thats a lot of babies, Din."

"And I wanna give them to you."

"Alright, you need to sleep." You grin as you try to nudge him off you.

He takes a deep breath and stands up straight.

"I'm going to kiss you." He declared as he wobbled.

"Oh? Where?" You tease as you tried to pull him towards the cot.

"Right here, right now!" He said as if it were a threat.

"No, where do you want to kiss me, Din?"

He raised his hand and tapped his gloves finger against your forehead.

"Here..." he gently gave your cheek a tap,"Here..." he ran his thumb over your lips, "Here." He nearly growled, his chest risieng and falling as his breath got heavier.

He ran his finger over your chin, down your neck,"Here," he sighed, continuing down your chest, makeing his way between your breasts,"Here. Def...definitely here." He shuddered, "I want to kiss you here so bad." He groaned, and ran his large hand smoothly down your stomach,"here." his voice a near shudder as he reached down to your core,"but this...I want to kiss this. I'll take off all my armor, and forsake the Creed, just for the chance to kiss you here."

You took his hand from between your thighs and placed it onto your chest.

"You would?" You smile.

"What?" He snapped,"dont believe me?" He challenged.

You only smiled wider as he ripped his hand away from you.

"I'll do it!"he threatened, you crossed your arms over your chest, brow raised in a challenge. He grabbed his helmet and lifted it off, spiking it onto the soft cot."See! I did it!"

His hair was as unkempt as ever, his deep brown eyes wide and bloodshot as he looked down at you. You stepped forward, and carresed his stubble and scared covered cheeks, and kissed him. Your lips gentle against his as you softly peppered his lips and cheeks with kisses. He was frozen against you, his arms limp at his sides.

"Oh Maker, I just broke the Creed-" he whispered.

You nuzzled against his cheek, running your finger down the bridge of his sharp nose.

"Din...we made our Riduurok four months ago."you whispered. He stumbled back his eyes wide, as he swallowed hard.

"You, you mean...you're my...my..."

"Wow, Din, you are drunk. You need to get into bed." You ordered as you nudged him to the cot making him sit. His mouth hung open as you took off his armor and weapons, genlty setting them to the side.

"You married me?" He nearly wimpered, you placed a kiss to the top of his head.

"Yes Din." You said gently as you took his armor, various weapons and helmet and placed it on a nearby table.

"Really?" He sniffed, you looked back and saw him on the verge of tears.

"Oh, Din," you sigh as you stand between his spread legs, pulling his head to your stomach as you ran your hand through his unkempt hair"yes, really."

"You married me?" He asked as he buried his face into you, his voice muffled,"you're my Riddur?"

You laugh softly," yes, kar'ta."

He sniffed loudly before looking up at you, his eyes brimming with tears. "Really? Like, really really?"

You leaned down and nuzzled his face,"your the only man I'd ever marry my brave, handsome, fiercesome, warrior." You kissed him again.

He stood suddenly, and wiped away a stray tear that slid down his face before a stern look came over him. He cleared his throat.

"I need to give you warriors."

"Cyar-"

He ripped off one of his gloves and tried to undo his flight suit while moving to kneel on the bed,"right now!"

"Baby-"

"Jus- jus lay down, I'll do all the work,"He pulled you down on to the bed as you laughed at his clumsy attempt to disrobe,one arm and half his torso out of his suit.

"Gotta do my duty, fill your belly, with...with my..."he grumbled as he struggled to undo his belt,"seed, DAMN THIS THING!"

You grabbed his hands to stop him, "Din, you've already filled my belly with a warrior, remember, we made our baby after we said the vows."

He slumped down, and blinked, as he sat stunned. You took advantage of his state and nudged him till he layed flat on his back. His eyes staring up at you. He reached up and carresed you're cheek.

"I love you, Mesh'la." He said.

"I know." You sighed,"I love you too my feirce warrior."

"I hope our baby looks like you." He says as you try to roll him onto his side.

"I hope our baby is as brave as you."

"No. You're the brave one," he mumbled into his pillow,"the pretty one, the strong one, with an ass that brings me to ruin."

You had to cover your mouth to keep from busting out laughing. "Go to sleep darling."

"But I wanna look at you." His voice muffled from the pillow.

"You can look at me all you want tomorrow."

"But I wanna look at you now!" He whined.

You sighed and rolled him over to his other side until you were met with his drunk grinning face.

"You're so pretty." He slurred, his still gloved hands grabbing your hip,"c'mere." He urged you down.

You nestled down next to him, his eyes slowly shutting, his hand rubbing your side.

"Look at you," he slurred,"so sweet, so soft...so...so beautiful." His brows furrowd suddenly,"wait..I can't see you! Why can't I see you!?"

"Din open your eyes."

His eyes snapped open, a slap happy grin spreading across his face, "Oh Maker, you're so clever," His hand left your side and landed on your cheek a little harsher than he intended,"how did I find you?"

"I was a bounty remember?"

He was quiet for a moment,"oh yeah....I'm so glad you're a criminal."

"Can you go to sleep for me Din?"

"Can I use your tits as a pillow?"

Before you could respond he was already pushing you onto your back, his face buried into your chest. You sighed and were about to push him off of you but the sound of him snoring stopped you. He was asleep, you were ready to try to drift off into uncomfortable sleep when you heard a coo by your side.

Looking down you were met with the wide sleepy eyes of The Child standing by the bed, his ears perked up with a tiny smile on his face. He climbed up onto the bed and over you, nestling in the small space between you and Din, his little face nuzlleing into your belly.

You groaned, it was going to be a long night.

Thank you for reading xoxo

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

72 Hours In Montreal [Part I]

A/N: Many moons ago, the incomparably lovely @im-an-adult-ish​ pitched a Montreal concert fic idea (jokingly, I think), and quite a few of my followers fell in love with it. They were even kind enough to vote on which Queen member should be the love interest, and there was a clear winner: John! 

I couldn’t get the idea out of my head, and at last, here is the first of three chapters of this new mini-fic. I’m going to tag some of my past readers, but I WILL NOT TAG YOU AGAIN unless you ask me to. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy. 💜

Series Summary: John Deacon is a rock star at a crossroads. Y/N is a world-weary employee at a Yankee Candle shop. They’ll only ever have three short days in Montreal together...or will they??

Chapter Warnings: Language, sexual content (not graphic). 

Word Count: 6.8k.

Other Chapters (And All My Writing) Available: HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @culturefiendtrashqueen​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @escabell​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhyee​ @deacyblues​ @tensecondvacation​ @brianssixpence​ @some-major-ishues​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @youngpastafanmug​ @simonedk​ @rhapsodyrecs​ ​​​ @joemazzmatazz​​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhyee​​ @namelesslosers​​ @inthegardensofourminds​​ @sleepretreat​​ @hardyshoe​​​ @sevenseasofcats​​ @jennyggggrrr​​ @madeinheavxn​​ @whatgoeson-itslate​​​ @herewegoagainniall​​ @anotheronewritesthedust1​​ @pomjompish​​ @allauraleigh​​  @bluutac​​ @johndeaconshands​​ 

The obnoxious British men are still laughing. The one with the mustache, suspenders, and illogically tight red leather pants is standing on the tiptoes of his equally red Adidas shoes to paw candles off the top shelf so he can sniff them. The blond one has no less than eight jars balanced precariously in his wiry arms. Journey’s Don’t Stop Believing is billowing through the shop speakers.

“Oh my god, he’s gonna break something,” you moan in a whisper, covering your eyes but peeking through your fingers. Your apron is suddenly too tight around your waist; your cheeks are roaring with blood as you envision the inevitable confrontation: Sir, unfortunately you ruined some of our giant tacky overpriced candles and so now you have to pay for them. So sorry. Paper or plastic? We take Mastercard.

“Who?” Kevin asks. He’s holding a broom in one pudgy, pinkish hand and a dustpan in the other. He has surrendered.

“That one. Suspenders and moustache guy. Red shoes guy. Dorothy without Toto.”

Kevin cracks a smile. “That is frighteningly accurate. He is rather whimsical, isn’t he? Maybe he’ll click his heels and disappear back to London or wherever.”

“We aren’t in Kansas anymore,” you mutter in commiseration. Actually, to be perfectly literal, you’ve never been to Kansas in your life.

“Wait, I think I might have met that guy before somewhere.” Kevin squints with great concentration. “He looks oddly familiar…”

“Hm.” You check your eyeliner wings in your reflection in the cash register screen. From what you can tell, they’re every bit as tragically asymmetrical as you remembered. Spectacular.

“Staring won’t make it better,” Kevin notes, very unhelpfully.

“I know,” you reply, miserable, toying with your bangs so you can hide behind them.

“How does that even happen? The right one is practically a 90-degree angle. The left one looks like you drew it on with a Sharpie.”

You groan. “I’ll try to scrub them off during my break.”

“If you’re not too busy helping me sweep glass off the floor, sure,” Kevin says. “I told you, I took an electrical engineering class as an elective once. I could totally take a look at your bathroom.”

“I thought you said you failed that class.”

“No, I said I got a D in that class. Ds aren’t failing.”

“Well now you’ve convinced me.” You scrutinize your reflection again, frowning. You rent a rather dilapidated one-bedroom apartment above a bakery just a few blocks from the Yankee Candle shop. The apartment always smells like powdered sugar and baking bread, which you like. What you don’t like is everything else about it: the peeling paint, the low water pressure, the windows that you can’t wrestle open, the occasional mice, the shoddy electrical wiring. On any given day, there’s an approximately 27% chance that the bathroom light won’t turn on when you flip the switch. This morning you had been on the losing side of those odds, and with the only mirror in the apartment being the one mounted over the sink—and the overcast November skies outside offering painfully little natural light—you had haphazardly guesstimated your way through your makeup routine before dashing off to work. Your guesstimation skills, apparently, are not all that great.

“If he’s The Wizard of Oz...” Kevin points his broom handle from the snickering moustached man to the gangly, poodle-haired one who has been trying to decide between two candles—Christmas Cookie and Cinnamon Stick—for twelve uninterrupted minutes. He’s wearing a parka spotted with patches: a NASA emblem, a soaring rocket, a smiling green extraterrestrial face, Saturn and its rings. “That guy’s gotta be Star Wars.”

“Or Alien,” you suggest, clutching your chest and pretending to die melodramatically.

Kevin laughs. “2001: A Space Odyssey.”

“Close Encounters of The Third Kind.”

“What about that one?” Kevin nods to the guy who has large blue eyes and bleach-blond, fried tufts of hair sticking out in every direction and a grin that is simultaneously childish and foxlike. Under Pressure comes on the shop speakers, and the British men all start cheering and high-fiving each other, leaving their candles momentarily tucked under their arms or quivering precariously on the edges of wooden display tables. You are entirely mystified. “God, he’s gorgeous.”

“Bye Bye Birdie,” you decide. “Beautiful. Charming. Beloved by all. Perhaps a little dangerous. I can picture teenage girls sobbing themselves to sleep as he gallantly marches off to war.”

“You think he’s gay?” Kevin asks hopefully.

“I don’t think he’s dressed well enough for that.” The blond man is wearing a shapeless, polka-dotted sweater that has ‘NIVEA’ spelled across the front, for reasons that are difficult to fathom.

Kevin sighs, crestfallen. He suffered a nasty breakup with his boyfriend Patrick two weeks ago, and is enthusiastically on the hunt for a rebound to distract him. “You’re probably right. Okay, last but not least.” Kevin aims his broom handle at the fourth and final British stranger. “What shall we call him?”

You consider the man who has wandered away from the others. He’s wearing Levi’s, a black bomber jacket, aviator sunglasses, a mop of unwrangled auburn hair, thoughtful lines that break around the corners of his hidden eyes. He is browsing unhurriedly, perhaps even distractedly, through the fruit-scented candles. He picks up a jar of Macintosh Apple, sniffs a few times, then sets it back down precisely where he found it. He even spins the jar so it’s label-side-facing-outwards again. You warm to him immediately.  

“One of the James Bond movies?” Kevin offers. “He seems…enigmatic somehow. Esoteric. Yet still clearly leading man material.”

“Casablanca,” you say, not tearing your gaze from the stranger. “I can imagine him waving off some old flame on a foggy, night-draped airport runway, breaking hearts with sparse words of wisdom. Can’t you?”

“Oh, that’s exactly right!” Kevin sighs again, dreamily, yearningly. And whether he’s yearning for his ex-boyfriend Patrick or Bye Bye Birdie a.k.a. NIVEA-sweater man or passion or sex or love or maybe just the ineffable high that accompanies the beginnings of things, you couldn’t say.

You peer at your reflection in the cash register screen once again, feeling more self-conscious than ever. “Maybe if I—”

“Freddie!” Star Wars cries, and you whirl just in time to see The Wizard of Oz, whizzing around and giggling and preoccupied with teasing NIVEA-sweater man, stumble into the six-foot-tall tower of Christmas Tree-scented candles and send countless jars crashing to the tile floor.

“I knew it!” you unleash in a rush of misery and exasperation, the biting threat of tears in your eyes and the back of your throat. And of course, it isn’t just about the mess on the floor, it isn’t just about having to tell your manager and hoping to God he doesn’t fire you. It’s about your derelict apartment, it’s about your fucked up eyeliner, it’s about everything that’s happened in the past eighteen months; it’s about the never-ending feelings of helplessness and inertia and predestined ruin, it’s about not being able to get fifteen meters down the street before life throws up another red light, another jagged sinkhole gaping like ravenous jaws. And none of that is these ridiculous British men’s fault; yet still, in that moment the fury you feel towards them is overwhelming.

“Jesus christ,” Kevin mumbles, stepping out from behind the counter to survey the damage, his hands still clutching the broom and dustbin.

“You couldn’t just mosey around and ask which candles are on sale and maybe sniff one or two like a normal person?!” you explode. “You had to come in here acting like goddamn animals and destroy like a third of our inventory?!”

“I’m so sorry,” The Wizard of Oz sputters, looking at you and Kevin with wide, profusely apologetic dark eyes. Star Wars and NIVEA-sweater man are helping him to his feet, albeit with very spirited chidings. Kevin is grudgingly asking if he’s alright. Casablanca is already trying to sort through which candles are broken and putting those that survived aside. And when he casts furtive glances from behind his aviator sunglasses, they’re directed not at Kevin or The Wizard of Oz but at you.

“Freddie, bloody hell,” NIVEA-sweater man laments.

“I’ll pay for them all,” The Wizard of Oz tells you. “I’m so, so, so terribly sorry, you’re absolutely right to be cross with me, and I’ll pay for everything. Here, let me get my wallet…” He digs around in the pockets of his preposterously tight red leather pants.

“Uh…sir…” Kevin begins uncertainly, not wanting to break the bad news.

“It’s going to be hundreds of dollars,” you inform The Wizard of Oz. “Maybe over a thousand. You’re really going to pay that? Or are you just going to wait until we start sweeping up and then sprint out the front door the first chance you get?”

“Hey,” Kevin warns you quietly. He wants you to keep this job probably even more than you do. You are, by his own admission, far and away his favorite coworker.

“No, no, darling, please, let her scold me, I deserve it.” The Wizard of Oz at last locates his wallet. He sashays to the counter, brushing nuggets of glittering glass off his clothes, and counts out two thousand Canadian dollars in hundreds. “Will that do? You can keep the change as compensation for the inconvenience. And we’ll help clean up as well, has anyone got an extra broom?”

As you stare down at the money, shocked into speechlessness, three hulking men dressed in black come barreling into the shop.

“Lord in heaven, Freddie, what happened?!” one asks. He has a thick beard and an Irish accent and closely resembles a grizzly bear.

“I made a complete ass out of myself and am now trying to win the affections of this marvelous creature,” The Wizard of Oz replies, flourishing a hand towards you. “Is it working, dear?”

“Kind of,” you admit, still stunned.

“Oh my god.” The broom tumbles out of Kevin’s grasp and clatters on the floor. He points at The Wizard of Oz. “I know where I’ve seen you before. You…you…you’re Freddie Mercury, right?”

In reply, The Wizard of Oz only flashes an enormous, toothy, dazzling grin.

“Oh my god,” Kevin says again, a starry, awed smile rippling across his round face.

“Please don’t make his ego any bigger,” Star Wars pleads.

“And you’re Brian May!” Kevin replies. “And you’re…” He turns to NIVEA-sweater man, snapping his fingers, trying to remember. “Robbie…no, Ronnie…uh…Ricky…?”

“Roger Taylor.” But it comes out like ‘Rogah Taylah.’ NIVEA-sweater man extends a hand for Kevin to shake, not the least bit offended. “It’s a pleasure. Sorry about the candles.”

“No problem, sir!” Kevin squeaks as he takes Roger’s hand, beaming. The men in black—the band’s security, you’ve gathered—have descended upon the crime scene, confiscated Kevin’s broom and dustbin, and are rapidly clearing glass and chunks of candlewax from the floor and discarding the mess in a trash bin that usually collects only chewed gum and unwanted receipts.

“So I guess I probably shouldn’t have yelled at you,” you tell Freddie Mercury guiltily, all the venom in your voice evaporated. You’re no Queen superfan, true, but everyone knows the words to Bohemian Rhapsody and We Will Rock You and We Are The Champions. And Another One Bites The Dust. And Killer Queen. And Crazy Little Thing Called Love. And Somebody To Love. Your thoughts are suddenly a racing, indecipherable blur. Your knees are boneless. You’ve never met a celebrity before. Well, not unless you count professional hockey players, which you definitely don’t.

“No, you absolutely should have,” Freddie retorts. “I was dreadfully discourteous. I’m positively mortified about it. I should be punished severely. Have you got anything behind the counter to whip me with? A riding crop, perhaps?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Not that I know of. I’m sorry I called you an animal.”

“I’m sorry about the candles. There, now we’re even. Wait, not quite yet.” He calls over to Kevin: “Darling, how would you and your friend like front row seats at our show tonight?”

The squeal that bursts out of Kevin is not human.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Freddie Mercury says, very pleased.

“This is really too generous of you,” you protest, although your heart isn’t in it; Kevin might legitimately strangle you if you screw this up, and you’re finding that you want to see Queen in concert too. It’s something to interrupt the powerless, unrelenting monotony; it’s like something that might happen in a movie or a dream.

“Nonsense!” Freddie announces cheerfully. Star Wars and NIVEA-sweater man—or, rather, Brian and Roger—are chatting with the security guys and nodding along as the bearlike Irishman reviews the day’s itinerary.

You peer over at Casablanca. Now that the floor is mostly clear, he’s migrating towards you and Freddie. You glance apprehensively down at your reflection. “Goddammit,” you mutter, manipulating your bangs again, wishing you could disappear. “I meet a rock star for the first time ever and I look like this.”

“It’s not that bad,” Kevin says, obviously lying.

“I like it,” Freddie tells you, propping his elbows on the counter and resting his chin on his knuckles. “It’s very goth raccoon chic.”

“My bathroom light wouldn’t turn on this morning and I was late for work and I guesstimated and that was clearly a poor decision.” Poor decisions are my expertise, you think instinctively, and feel a tug of something you don’t quite have the words for. Shame, grief, disappointment, a raw sting like a flame beneath your palm, a dread like a child who’s lost their mother’s hand.  

“I’ve offered to take a look at the wiring!” Kevin exclaims. “I told you, a D is passing!”

“Kev, babe,” you reply. “I really, truly appreciate your enthusiasm, but you’ll probably just make it worse. And then my landlord will hate me and keep my security deposit and write me awful references and I’ll have to live in an endless string of ancient, hideous apartments until I die.”

“It’s an electrical problem?” Casablanca asks, pushing his aviator sunglasses up into his unruly hair. His unveiled eyes are a blueish grey—they remind you of one of the candles, maybe Beach Walk or Bahama Breeze—and very direct. He stares at you and you stare back, and at some point you realize that everyone is waiting for you to answer.

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess so. Sometimes nothing happens when I flip the switch. That’s the extent of my handyman knowledge, unfortunately.”

Casablanca nods. “I could take a look, if you like.”

Not Beach Walk. Not Bahama Breeze. Warm Luxe Cashmere, maybe. “Now that really is too generous. I couldn’t possibly put a rock star to work on my terrible apartment.”

“John’s got a degree in electrical engineering, that’s right in his wheelhouse,” Brian counters.

“Yes,” Roger says, grinning, teasing in a way that has absolutely no malice in it. “He’s more of an engineer than a rock star anyway, isn’t he?”

“Seriously?” Casablanca—John, you mentally correct yourself—doesn’t seem much like an electrical engineer. But Roger’s right: he doesn’t really seem like a rock star, either. What John seems like is steady and abiding and perceptive, attentive, unflinching. He studies you like some people study paintings, like you once studied paintings; not in a passing-by-in-a-crowded-hallway type way but in a patient way, a methodical way, with the quiet that comes from knowing that vision in the frame is older than you will ever be and will still be hanging on that wall when you’re bones in a box somewhere.

Freddie lights a cigarette and puffs on it decadently. Smoking definitely isn’t allowed inside the Yankee Candle shop, but you aren’t about to snap at Freddie Mercury for the second time today. “Oh, let him tinker around in your flat, darling. It’ll make his day.”

“Is it far?” John asks you.

“No, really, Casa…uh, I mean, John, I appreciate the offer more than I could possibly express but I—”

“It’s just a few blocks north,” Kevin says, and tosses you a wily smile.

“How convenient!” Freddie trills. “When does your shift end, dear?”

“Not until 5:30.”

“She can take a long lunch break.” Another smile from Kevin. “Honestly, there’s not much to do around here now that the Great Candle Massacre of 1981 has been remediated.”

“Splendid!” Freddie says, radiant.

You shake your head, very slowly. “This is the weirdest day of my life.”

“Then you clearly haven’t lived enough,” Freddie quips.

“Fred!” Roger presses. “Are we going to the bookstore down the street or not? That was the whole deal, we suffer through your candles, you suffer through our books.”

“You didn’t seem to be suffering,” Brian says.

“Of course I’m suffering. That cashier over there almost murdered me,” Roger slings back.  

Freddie sighs and rolls his large, dark, expressive eyes. “Yes, darling, of course, don’t give yourself an aneurism. We’ll go to the bookstore, John can rendezvous with us later.” Now he turns to you. “We’ll send a car to your flat at 7 to pick you and Kevin up for the show tonight. Don’t let John leave without knowing your address. Wear something deliciously opulent. Lots of sparkle. Maybe furs.”

“I make eight dollars an hour,” you tell him.  

“Or you could just wear nothing.”

“Sparkle and furs it is.”

Freddie chuckles and turns to the men in black. “Chubby, my dear?”

The towering bearlike Irishman replies: “Yeah, I’ll go with John. Don’t wreck anything else while I’m gone. Don’t get yourselves deported before the show. EMI will have your heads on spikes.”

Freddie pretends to be scandalized. “Causing destruction? We would never.” He saunters towards the shop door, jingling the bells as he swings it open, and waves like royalty. “See you tonight, darlings!”

“Bye!” Kevin shouts after him. And then, after Freddie, Roger, Brian, and the two non-bearlike men in black have departed: “Oh my god I just met Freddie Mercury and he’s amazing and he knows I exist and he spoke to me and tonight he’s sending a car to take me to a concert and I’m going to have front row seats and what if he invites me to have a drink afterwards oh my god.”

John, evidently unaffected, prompts you: “So your place is just a few blocks away?”

“Yeah. Just let me get my coat…”

The man in black—Chubby, as Freddie had introduced him—fetches your coat off the rack by the door and holds it up so you can slip inside it. No one has ever done that for you before.

“…Thanks…?” You button your coat, feeling a little like royalty yourself at the moment.

John pulls open the door, the tiny metal bells jangling, and gestures out into the streets of downtown Montreal. He’s wearing his aviator sunglasses again; the November wind gusts through his hair. You catch threadbare ghosts of cigarette smoke and cologne that the breeze lifts from his skin like pages of a book. And he smiles, just barely. “After you.”

You walk north together along the path of the sidewalk with your hands in your pockets, your breath fog in the cold, weaving through the bustling crowds of tourists and holiday shoppers, Chubby trailing not far behind and displaying his talent for keeping watch while not letting on that he is. To even your own horror, you can’t seem to shut up.

“John, this is so kind of you, this is completely unnecessary, you really shouldn’t feel like you owe me anything because Freddie already paid for the candles twice over and I was totally unprofessional for yelling at customers, even annoying customers, and Kevin and I are already getting a free concert tonight and so—”

“Okay,” John says firmly. “You have to talk about something else now.”

“I can’t talk about anything else. All I can think about is how ridiculous this is.”

“Have you lived in Montreal long?” he asks, very casually, as if you’re strangers in line next to each other at Starbucks.

“My whole life.” Minus a little over three years, but you don’t need to get into that. “My parents live over in Verdun, right on the St. Lawrence River.

“Sounds scenic.”

“It certainly is.” You’re trying not to look at John, because every time you do it’s hard to stop. You look at the cars rolling by instead. “This is super embarrassing, and I don’t mean to offend you, but what exactly do you do in Queen?”

He’s not offended; he thinks it’s hilarious. “I’m the bassist.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah, bassists are quiet and reliable or whatever. Bassists don’t terrorize Yankee Candle employees.”

“You’re not a Queen fan?”

“I’m a casual and appreciative listener, but I wouldn’t call myself a fan. I couldn’t pick any of you out of a lineup, clearly. Roger is the drummer, right?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Drummers are feral, almost universally. Which means Brian must be lead guitar.”

“And what do you think of lead guitarists?”

“Word on the street is that they are brilliant yet micromanaging egomaniacs, but I don’t want to bash your friend or anything.”

John chuckles, like there’s some joke you aren’t in on yet. “No, please, bash away. So you prefer bassists.”

And finally you do look at him, and you regret it immediately; because now you’re caught in the thoughtful crinkles around his eyes and the barely-there stubble of his cheeks and the playful curve of his lips and how the wind ruffles his auburn hair the same way it steals leaves off of slumbering trees. You almost walk right past the bakery. “Oh, wait, we’re here.”

You lead John and Chubby upstairs to your chronically irritating apartment. John removes his sunglasses, inspects your bathroom light switch, then asks if you have a specific kind of screwdriver. You bring him the toolkit that has lived beneath the kitchen sink since before you moved in and he roots around, finds what he’s searching for, and unfastens the light switch plate from the wall.

“Please don’t electrocute yourself,” you fret, as Chubby meanders around in the living room and tries not to intrude. “If you die your groupies will never forgive me.”

“Who says I’ve got groupies?” John replies, amused.

“I just assumed all rock stars do.” Your eyes flick down to his hands as he fidgets with the wiring; and you notice randomly—or, maybe, not all that randomly—that he’s not wearing a ring. You’re still ruminating over that when he returns the light switch plate to the wall, secures each of the four screws with a few deft twists of his wrist, and performs a test flip. The light turns on immediately.

“Mission accomplished,” John says mildly.

“What?! No, no way, no freaking way.” You flip the switch again. The light turns off and on obediently. You try it at least five more times. Perfection. “…How?!”

“Just a few loose wires. No great hardship.” He tucks the screwdriver back into the toolkit.  

You gape at him. “That took you…like…two minutes.”

“Aren’t you glad my band wandered into your candle shop and almost demolished the place today?” He rests his hands on his waist; his sturdy, skillful, ringless hands. “Anything else I can fix for you?”

“Definitely not.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

He stares at you. You stare back.

“Stop looking at my fucked up eyeliner.”

John laughs. It’s a delightfully clear, disarming sound. “That’s not what I was doing.”  

“I should fix my makeup and go back to work now. And you should probably go help your friends burn down the bookstore or blow up a Starbucks or do whatever else is on your agenda for today.”

“Soundcheck and dinner, actually,” John says. He slides the toolkit back beneath your kitchen sink, meets Chubby by the front door, and pauses there to give you one last lingering, laden gaze. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“In my best furs,” you purr in your most convincing Freddie Mercury impression.

“Or nothing at all,” John suggests levelly. And then he’s gone.

~~~~~~~~~~

It turns out better than you thought it would. Your tan, knee-high suede boots are celebratory without being too uncomfortable. Kevin brings you a faux fur jacket that he stole from Patrick during the breakup. You find a glittery black dress in the back of your closet that you once loved, then couldn’t stand to look at, then forgot existed entirely; but tonight it’s like you’re seeing it with brand new eyes. It fits even better than you remember. In the mirror, you look like a stranger and a hauntingly familiar acquaintance and yourself all at once.

Chubby arrives in a black limousine at precisely 7pm, parks along the curb next to the bakery, and honks the horn twice. You and Kevin dash down the narrow steps and climb into the backseat, finding complimentary cigarettes and bottled water and chilled champagne. As the limo rolls though Montreal under changing traffic lights, Kevin prattles on about the band, their history, their albums, their tours…and John in particular. He tries to tempt you. You resist valiantly…for the first fifteen minutes, anyway.

Finally, you sigh in capitulation. “Okay. Fine. I get it. What do you know about him?”

“I know he’s divorced,” Kevin says, wiggling his eyebrows. “I saw it on the cover of a tabloid a while back. Very contentious, spicy stuff. He’s got like eight kids.”

“He does not have eight kids!”

“Okay, maybe not eight. But he has a lot,” Kevin insists.

You rearrange your hair with deliberate flippantness. “What do I care if he’s divorced?”

Kevin grins. “You know why you care.”

“Stop,” you plead.

“Look, all I’m saying is that he definitely likes you. And you like him. And I haven’t seen you like anybody, ever, in the…wait, let me count…the nine whole months that I’ve known you. When was the last time you even had a boyfriend? When was the last time you got laid? Oh my god, it hasn’t been nine months, has it?! That’s way too long to go without sex. No wonder you’re so serious all the time. It all makes sense now. You poor thing. You’re in dick withdrawal.”

“Assuming that’s my problem—which it isn’t, by the way��if I wanted to get laid there are far easier ways to accomplish that.”

“Sure,” Kevin says. “But you don’t want just any dick. You want British bassist dick. John Deacon dick. Casablanca dick.”

“This friendship is terminated.”

Kevin cackles, pouring himself a glass of champagne that bubbles over the top and spills onto the limo floor. “I’m really glad you’re here with me. I’m glad we can do this together.”

You fill a champagne flute with bottled water and clink your glass against his, smiling. The limo is turning into the parking lot of the Montreal Forum. “Me too.”

~~~~~~~~~~

The backstage room that Chubby escorts you and Kevin to after the show is full of chatter and heavy smoke and roadies and fans and musicians and journalists, trays of hors d'oeuvres, wine and Stella Artois and vodka and tequila and rum, the electric promise of things that will go unmentioned in the morning. There are stacks of stereo speakers in the corner rumbling out Another One Bites The Dust. You and Kevin camp out on a green velvet couch—making small talk with each other to avoid making it with anyone else—until the band arrives.

John is still wearing his concert outfit: blue pants, blue shirt, a black leather jacket that gives him an edge like a knife. He passes out a few polite nods; but Freddie and Roger are undeniably the suns in this room, and the guests their planets. Freddie is soon surrounded by a constellation of followers and whisks Kevin away with him. John, meanwhile, comes straight to where you’re sitting on the couch and stands in front of you with his messy hair and his veil of cologne and his mystery-candle-blue eyes.

“Can I get you anything?” he asks in that calm, measured way that you’ve learned he has. “Rum and Coke? Moscow Mule? Hurricane? I’ve been on a mojito kick recently.”

“I don’t drink.” And you wait for the inevitable awkwardness that usually follows that sentence, when he says why? or seriously? or maybe just oh in wilted disappointment.

Instead, what John says is this: “No problem. Rum minus the Coke?”

You smile up at him. You can’t help yourself. “That would be perfect.”

There are innumerable drinks already poured on a table, dark carbonated liquid trembling in red plastic cups as the bass from the stereo speakers quakes through the crowded, droning, smoke-hazed room. John moves from cup to cup, taking tentative sips before shaking his head and putting them back down on the table. After each attempt, he casts you a rueful smirk before continuing on to the next cup. At last, he finds two unadulterated Cokes and brings them to the couch: one for you, and one for him. He sits beside you with one of his legs crossed over the other, a lit cigarette in his right hand, a red plastic cup of Coke in his left, and his eyes on you in a way that isn’t hungry or arrogant or restless but merely, benignly contemplative. You find yourself thinking of paintings in museums again, you even start to feel a little like one; and you wonder what colors he sees in you, what types of brushstrokes, what signatures scribbled in the corners of the canvas, what shadows painstakingly penciled in to mimic the angles of the sun.

You tell John about growing up in Montreal, about autumn strolls along the St. Lawrence River, about snowfalls and Mont-Royal and Chinatown and the Notre-Dame Basilica, about the exhilarating turmoil of the Summer Olympics in 1976. You tell him about how Kevin is in his last year at Concordia University and works part-time at the Yankee Candle shop for money to invest in his hair gel and travel fund. You tell him so many things he doesn’t notice all the parts you leave out. In return, John tells you about himself; not about John Deacon the bassist of Queen, but about the understated man who likes cars and electronics and the Beatles and tea in the evenings beside a roaring fireplace. And when his arm comes to rest on the back of the green velvet couch, and then across your shoulders, and then around your waist, it doesn’t feel strange at all. You lean into him as you exchange stories and clandestine giggles until you’re nearly in his lap, and that doesn’t feel strange either. And you haven’t had a drop of alcohol—you haven’t in almost a full year, in fact—but you feel a little drunk tonight, because your cheeks are hot and the room is blurry and the world is brimming with a pure, rose-gold, uncomplicated happiness.

The other band members periodically stop by to say hello, clutching their drinks and making stilted pleasantries as you and John smile drowsily up at them, looking nothing like the soberest people in the room. Chubby and the rest of the men in black are simultaneously omnipresent and scarce, which you are beginning to think is a requirement inked into their job description. Kevin, having been fully absorbed into Freddie’s entourage, is beaming and flushed and extremely, blissfully tipsy. And they all watch you and John not with scandalized sideways glances but with warm approval swimming in their gleaming eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you yet,” you tell John when you are alone again. “For improving my dreadful apartment. So thank you. You really didn’t have to do that. I hate that I marred your time in Montreal with unpaid labor.”

He shrugs it off. “I like fixing things. It’s what I’m best at.”

“Besides being an internationally acclaimed rock star, you mean.”

“I’m honestly not so sure I’m cut out for the rock star life.”

“You are, though. I saw you. I watched you all night.”

John just stares at you, and then he leans in even closer, inhaling deeply. You can feel the heat of his breath on your collarbone, your shoulder, your neck; goosebumps spring up across your skin like stars at twilight. “What the hell is that? Perfume? Lotion? Shampoo?”

“It’s probably sugar and baking bread, because I live on top of a bakery.”

“Does Yankee Candle make anything that smells like you?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “They definitely do not.”

“They should,” John murmurs. And with the rough whirlpools of his fingertips he turns your face to his so he can kiss you.

It should be kind of humiliating, right? Making out with some guy you just met on a green couch in front of thirty strangers, your hands getting tangled in each other’s hair, your lips meeting again and again, taunting darts of the tongue and quick painless bites and stifled moans and grasping tugs at clothes that you’re starting to wish weren’t there at all. It should feel embarrassing, you should feel overexposed, here in this land of unfamiliar expectations and accents and faces. But no one seems to be watching too closely. This must be so tame in the world of rock stars, it occurs to you; almost wholesome. And you can’t remember a time you’ve ever felt more at peace.

“There’s a pool table in the next room,” someone says, startling you, and you break away from John to discover Roger perched on the arm of the couch, grinning coyly as he sips his emerald glass bottle of Stella Artois. “I mean…you know. If you’re into that. John’s got all sorts of moves, we played for days at a time at Ridge Farm. You could challenge him to a round or two. Place bets. But be warned…he’s a total pool shark.”

“Is he?” you ask mischievously, clasping the lapel of John’s leather jacket. Even if you freed him, he shows no indication of retreating. He’s raking his knuckles back and forth along the length of your thigh that your little black dress leaves exposed, never venturing above the hem.  

Roger winks. “Just thought you might want to know.” Then he hops off the couch and disappears into the crowd again.

John is trying to keep his eyes locked on yours, and no lower. He’s trying to not be even vanishingly forceful. He’s trying not to sway you. But you know exactly what he wants. “Do you…?”

“Show me how to play pool,” you whisper. And you lead him through the shuffling bodies and boisterous, increasingly intoxicated laughter and cumulus clouds of cigarette smoke to the door on the other side of the room.

Beyond the threshold you find a pool table and not much else. It’s terribly unceremonious; it’s absolutely perfect. You can hear Blondie’s Call Me playing back in the packed room where the rest of the band is still reveling, the bass crawling through the walls to radiate in your eardrums, your bones. You lock the door and reach out to flick off the harsh florescent lights, but John stops you. You don’t have to ask him why. He wants to be able to see you. He asks if this is okay—again, wordlessly, with the forthright blue of his eyes—and you nod. And then he kisses you as you drag him in, breathing in his cologne and nicotine, tasting the virgin Coke on his lips that he drank just for you.

John tears off his leather jacket. You toss the faux fur that Kevin lent you to the floor. You climb up onto the pool table, and John follows you. You yank off his shirt, link your suede boots around him as he positions himself between your naked, down-soft thighs. And then John stops.

“Look, I have to be honest,” he says. His hands tremble as they cradle the small of your back, just barely. “I’m newly divorced, and I’m really out of practice, I mean really out of practice, and this is not at all my usual way of doing things, and if I’m total rubbish or only last like thirty seconds or something I just want to apologize in advance and swear that I’ll do absolutely everything I can to make this worth it for you. Because I like you. I really, really like you.”

“I’m a little rusty too,” you confess with a small, sheepish smile. But he doesn’t need to know exactly how rusty you are, or in how many ways, all those layers of blood-hued ruin that spin webs from the skin down to the marrow.

John seems relieved. “Then maybe we’re even.”

You’re not even, you’re nowhere close; but it’s comforting that he thinks you could be.

John kisses you again. His hands find the zipper on the back of your dress, and then the tiny metal clasp of your bra, and then the black lace of your panties…and then everything else as well.

~~~~~~~~~~

Afterwards, you return together to the green velvet couch in the next room, not with bashful swiftness but with your hands entwined, your eyes satiated and calm, your clothes unapologetically rumpled. The partying is winding down. The song pouring through the stereo speakers is In The Air Tonight by Phil Collins. And now you and John don’t talk very much at all; you just sit there with fresh cups of Coke, your head resting against his chest, his left arm draped around you, watching the rest of the universe spin on like a carousel as your feet stay rooted to the earth.

“So you’re the smart one,” you say eventually. “You must be, with an electrical engineering degree.”

“You’d be surprised. We’re rather erudite, as far as rock stars go.” He smiles drowsily down at you. “Freddie’s got a degree in graphic art and design. Roger has one in biology. Brian has the better part of a PhD in astrophysics. He might even go back to finish it one day. He probably will, just to be able to lord it over us.”

“Wow,” you reply, distantly, suddenly feeling very small.

“What did you study?” he asks you.

In truth, you never finished college; but you aren’t going to tell John that. “Something useless.”

John is intrigued, and perhaps a little concerned as well. His brow furrows with grooves like lines of fortune in an open palm.

“I wanted to be a painter,” you explain, smirking at the absurdity. “But the world doesn’t need painters anymore. They have pictures and videos that are just as clear as real life. They don’t need my fantasies or interpretations. They have reality.”

“I think we still need painters,” John disagrees, his calloused fingertips tracing lazy circles around your bare shoulder.

“Really?”

“Yeah. For when reality requires improving.”

You let a few moments of silence tick by. And then you put on your faux fur jacket, finish the last of your Coke, stand and find your balance on the low heels of your boots with exhausted, shaky calves.

John jolts upright, somewhat alarmed. “Hey, you don’t have to—”

“This was great, John. This was the best night I’ve had in a long time. So thank you for that. But I have to go home now.”

“Okay.” He studies you, processing. “Okay, okay. I’ll have Chubby drive you.”

“That’s really not necessary, I can get a cab…”

But John has already waved Chubby over, and the massive man appears serendipitously with an impossible degree of stealth. Kevin finds you, staggering, babbling breathlessly about all of his adventures, showing you where Freddie and Roger and Brian signed his chest with a black Sharpie, repeating the same stories on an identical loop every few minutes. As you leave, you offer John a brief parting wave; and he returns it, like a reflection in a mirror, but he’s wearing a pensive frown and eyes dark with thought. Then again, maybe you are too.

Chubby leads you and Kevin outside to the waiting limousine. You slip into the backseat, ply Kevin with bottled water, open the sunroof so moonlight and cold, reviving November air can flood in like a river.

Kevin is coming down now from the high of the champagne and the concert and the carousing with Freddie Mercury. He blinks, soaking you in, really seeing you for the first time in hours. “Wow, you had a good night with Casablanca. You had a really good night.”

“Yeah,” you reply softly, resting your head against the window and watching the stars and streetlights pass by above like seasons. “And it will never happen again.”