#it feels so good to write in this mans stupid handwriting again

[eddieandbird]

You tried to set up Eddie with your friend

[stevesjockstrap]

Sweetest Day

Steve/Eddie • Rated T • Ronance for fun, 2000’s, the girls are so fed up with these idiots

@steddiesongfics: My Heart Will Go On - Celine Dion

@stcreators: event 12 Take Two - music

Steve glared at the spread in front of them, trying to figure out how his life had led him to this moment. There were neat little piles of pens, cards and paper in front of all of them.

Their normal movie/game/queer bitching session night had been taken over by Nancy and some magazine quiz.

“We’re writing?”

Robin sighed her patented long suffering sigh at him, which he didn’t think was completely warranted. He wasn’t good at writing, even when he had to try to be in high school. That had been almost fifteen years ago now.

Nancy started over, apparently deciding they needed more instructions. “Cosmopolitan magazine says to write poems to your lover for a better intimate relationship,” she explained like they were incredibly stupid. With such authority like they didn’t know this was a magazine telling you tips for which jeans to make your butt look better or which positions to try with your man. “And since it’s Sweetest Day, we’re all going to write poems for each other and share them.”

Steve groaned again. Eddie pulled him close, nearly into his lap at the table and nuzzled into his neck. “I’ll love whatever you write, babe.”

He knew that, but Nancy and Robin were like, actual geniuses. Eddie wrote songs, which were just poems with music. He was going to look like an idiot.

“Sweetest day is just another made up holiday for candy companies to screw us,” he complained.

Robin rolled her eyes. “No it isn’t, Steve! It’s for kind gestures, showing appreciation for those you love.”

He looked at Eddie for support but he was staring into space, drumming on the table with Nancy’s fancy pens. “Whatever, but I’m sure they didn’t intend to give us homework.”

But the girls could not be persuaded. He went to the kitchen for another beer.

Then he decided fuck it, grabbed a pen and a blank card and leaned over the kitchen island to write a poem. Eddie deserved a poem.

“I think the next time you want to do this artsy crap, you can invite Will instead,” Steve grouched, then felt instantly bad. “Who goes first?”

“You should, Steve!”

He glared across the room at Nancy, who was even peppier than usual since she’d gotten them all to agree to her idea. He could tell she’d written something long and detailed in her perfect tiny handwriting.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Eddie insisted, leaning forward with his hand on his chin. Seemingly delighted to listen to what he wrote.

“Every night in my dreams

I see you, I feel you

That is how I know you go on

Far across the distance

And spaces between us

You have come to show you go on

Near, far, wherever you-”

“Wait!” Robin loudly interjected. “Is this that damn Celine Dion song?”

He felt his cheeks heat, ducking his head.

“Oh my god, Stevie,” Eddie sounded shocked.

“I’m not good at writing, okay?” He nearly yelled, then he met his boyfriend’s eyes. His eyebrows were raised, but he was smiling. He looked like he’d won the lottery.

“I wrote the same thing!”

“No way,” Nancy got up to snatch their cards away, comparing them.

“You're here, there's nothing I fear,

And I know that my heart will go on,

We'll stay forever this way,” Eddie sang, opening his arms but Steve was already on his way toward him.

“You’re unbelievable,” Steve snarked, but unable to hold back his own smile.

“I’ve already written an entire album of songs for you, love. I figured I could borrow from a master.”

“You guys are the worst,” Robin grumbled, coming closer to look over her girlfriend’s shoulder.

But they didn’t pay her any mind as he straddled Eddie in the chair and met his lips.

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics & @/sister-lucifer

[jakeyzzz]

birthday boy

( a/n : happy birthday jake! I love you SO much and i'm so proud of you ♡ sending so so so much love ! <3 )

this is obviously a birthday special ! 🤭

masterlist ✿⁠ 

( fluff !!!! ) jake x f!reader headcanon

warnings ! - (waking up with jake, mentions of nudity, kissing, happy tears, this is way too cute y'all)

!!! If i missed anything please let me know

!!! english is NOT my first language so please be nice

🤍 1k words 🤍

...

Jake's eyes immediately met your sleepy ones as soon as he opened them. He gently rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as his mouth curved into a soft smile, making you giggle quietly. ,,Good morning, birthday boy'' You whispered, kissing his forehead softly. Jake groaned sleepily before quickly pulling you into his arms. ,,Good morning my love...''

Jake had a huge grin on his face. Having you in his arms, feeling your warm skin right against his already made him the happiest man alive. He didn't need anything else. He didn't need a stupid birthday present. He only needed you. 

Jake suddenly attacked you with kisses all over your face, which made you squeal. He laughed at your reaction before kissing your lips gently. 

You immediately melted into the kiss. No matter how many times Jake kissed you, he made every single kiss feel special. He kissed you so beautifully. The way he caressed the skin of your waist when he smiled into the kiss made a million butterflies explode in your stomach. 

In fact, he knew exactly what he was doing.

,,So .. what do you wanna do today ?'' You asked. Jake smiled softly, gently putting a strand of hair behind your ear. 

,,I wanna stay in bed with you all day.'' 

You raised your eyebrow at him, making him giggle. 

His answer didn't surprise you at all. But you still decided to act like it did. 

,, Are you sure ?''

,,More than sure. ''

You smiled at Jake before quickly kissing the tip of his nose. ,,I've got something for you...'' You confessed. Jake sighed. ,,I don't want you to spend any money on me, princess'' 

You smiled cheekily. ,,Don't worry ... I didn't...''

You carefully got up, wrapping your blanket around your naked body before walking to the other side of your shared bedroom. 

,,Nothing I haven't seen before !'' 

You chuckled, rolling your eyes at Jake's comment before quickly grabbing the little gift you prepared for him. You hid it behind your back as you carefully got into your bed again. 

,,Close your eyes, Jakey'' You commanded. Jake grinned as he slowly closed his eyes. 

You gently grabbed his Hand, before placing the gift on the palm of it. Jake slightly flinched, making you giggle. You gently kissed his fingertips as an apology for scaring him before telling him to open his eyes. 

He stared at the small gift for a few seconds before looking at you. 

,,I love it'' He stated. 

,,You haven't even completely seen it yet ! '' You laughed loudly, resting your head against your boyfriend's shoulder. 

,,Yes I know, but it's a lego heart ! Are you kidding me ? I love this !!'' 

You quickly kissed his lips, still giggling.

  ,,You're the most adorable person I've ever met do you know that ? Open the letter, baby ''

Jake carefully put the lego heart aside before taking the colorful envelope into his hand. Again, he stared at it for a few seconds before finally opening it, taking your self written letter out. He smiled widely seeing your handwriting, finding it incredibly cute. 

,,Hi, Hubby. As I'm writing this letter, you're fully asleep on my tummy. It's kinda hard to write a letter and caress your hair at the same time, but it's alright. 

I think can do it.

 I'm writing this letter because I want you to know how much I love and appreciate you. Every single second i get to spend with you means the world to me. Do you remember when you called me in the middle of the night and asked me if I wanted to go on a late night walk with you ? I stumbled over this big rock and you caught me right before I hit the ground. We laughed for ten minutes straight only because the way I fell looked silly. It was ridiculous. After that you took me to a 24h convenience store. We got a bunch of snacks and sat down in the middle of the store to eat them. 

Jake giggled at the memory.

We joked around, making each other laugh until we couldn't breathe till' the annoyed cashier eventually told us to leave. That was the night I fell in love with you, Jake. You made me feel so alive. With you I felt safe. You made me forget about all my problems. And I'm so thankful for everything you've done for me. Whenever I look at you, I know exactly who I wanna spend my whole future with. I wanna marry you one day. For sure. I wanna write you letters like this every single year until we're grey and old. I wanna wake up in your arms every single morning, and kiss you goodnight every single time before we go to sleep. I wanna see you become a father one day (only If you want to of course). You're everything I've ever wanted. And I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you. I'm so so so so in love with you ! And that will NEVER change. I love you, Jakey. Happy Birthday ! 

- y/n ''

Jake took a deep breath before looking at you. You watched a tear rolling down his face, before he quickly pulled you into his arms. He held you so tight, it was almost suffocating. He placed a long kiss on your temple, before directly looking into your eyes. Jake has never been afraid to show his feelings, which made you happy. He didn't mind you seeing him cry. He trusted you. 

,,No words could ever describe how much I love you, Y/N.'' 

You smiled shyly, looking down. His words sounded so genuine. Jake kissed the top of your head, making you look at him with a smile once again. The look in his eyes made you melt. 

,,Y/N ?''

Jake had a soft smile on his face. He looked precious. 

,,Yes ?''

He carefully pulled you onto his lap, before kissing your lips gently. You softly smiled against his lips.

,,Will you marry me ?''

...

taglist : - { @aleiouvre , @wonbie ... }

[ronsenthal]

Ron Speirs x Female!Reader

Summary: After you helped Dick Winters and Lewis Nixon the word spread and soon enough this captain would come to your office too. 

A/N: First of all, I would like to apologize, this is my first time writing something, I’m pretty nervous and english is not my first language, I’ll just try my best. I had this idea after listening to Blank Space (Taylor’s version) on repeat and also looking for some Speirs info and found out his ridiculously pretty handwriting???? and then I realized that he is so Taylor coded and this came to my mind.

so this one goes out to my fellow BoB lovers who are also Swifties!! Hope y’all enjoy it and if you could leave some feedback I would very much appreciate it.

If only you knew that taking typing classes would lead you to live this life from city to city, seeing horrors, tragedy and pain, feeling cold, hopeless and tired beyond anything you could imagine or explain you would have had second thoughts. But then again, every smile from your friends, every stupid joke they would tell just to lighten the mood, every cup of “coffee” you would share would make it more bearable. “Yes, it was worth it” you told yourself countless nights before falling asleep and dreaming of hope it would all end, if not soon, at some point. 

“Yes, it was worth it” you told yourself after one night that you had too many drinks with Nix, you wish you could tell the same about Dick, but he would never allow himself to do so, but he also enjoyed the night out with his friends. It was only natural that you would end up following those two, after all, with some luck you ended up being assigned to help out Dick with the mess he was making at his office duties. After some time and after figuring out how to understand the man it became really enjoyable. 

Those nights that they would tell their stories for you to organize it down in a report for your superiors were as fun as they could be, given the circumstances.

Nix wouldn’t even bother to try to write his reports once he discovered how fast you could type and how concise you would turn Dick’s endless essays into comprehensive, yet detailed reports, soon enough you were helping both of your COs, your friends.

“(Y/N) I believe you have this weird super power, are you sure you are human?” Nix said after half a bottle of Vat-69, raising his eyebrows as if he was looking at you with this invisible magnifying glass. 

Dick only shook his head in disbelief. Sometimes you thought that they looked like one of those old married couples, knowing each other's quirks and peeves and yet somehow, finding it all amusing. You wondered if you could find someone like this in this God forsaken world you were living. 

One day you found it, but thinking back it wasn't easy at first and as it took some time to even lower your guard on your own brain, and allow yourself to think about it, about HIM. 

Ronald Speirs had quite a reputation, everybody knew the rumors, every man saw the things he so recklessly did on the field. His men were as afraid as the enemy, so it took you by surprise when after Foy he also started to hang out with you, Dick and Nix. The first time there was silence on the table after he arrived, you didn’t even had the chance to introduce yourself politely as Dick started out his endless questions about how the Easy men were doing, and then Nix introduced some drinks, yet you two never exchanged one word to each other before that day.

After a while his presence started to make you feel a little bit comfortable, especially after Dick assured you that he was a good man, a good leader and being a big brother figure, he wouldn’t let Speirs offer you a cigarette. Since then you could catch a glimpse at how his eyes shone even in the dark, how he looked tired after an operation. He wasn’t scary anymore, he was just another officer that from time to time would hang out with your friends.

After some time you started to get used to his presence around chasing Dick and Nix up and down, something you did yourself as they were like big brothers to you, protecting, giving their piece of advice and taking care of you. Soon enough you started to feel more comfortable around Speirs too, once you even called him Ronald after a couple of drinks.

Then one afternoon it took you by surprise when he knocked at your office, looking tired as hell with a pile of files on one hand, a pair of boots in the other one and a half burnt cigarette hanging on his lips.

“Sorry to disturb you (Y/L/N), but Nixon said you could help me out with this paperwork? I’ll be in real trouble if I don’t turn them in this evening. Also, he said you could use this one” Speirs told you while putting a tiny pair of combat boots on your desk and taking of his cap, not even giving you time to reply, not even looking at you.

“What in the name of god are you thinking? What the hell is Lewis thinking? You guys think I don’t have anything better to do, I have enough work to do, just look at this endless pile of work, so no, thank you, good luck” you said throwing your arms in exasperation, complaining and pointing out the huge paper files on your desk.

He stared at you in horror as if you were one of those german panzers, he opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the words but he couldn’t. You felt a twist in your stomach, looking at him you could see he was embarrassed, you never saw him so vulnerable and tired, this man could use some proper sleep. As he was turning on his heels to leave while muttering sorry a thousand times, guilt took the best of you.

“Wait” you said, closing your eyes knowing right after the word left your mouth how stupid it would be, after all you could use some sleep too, you deserved it. He slowly turned to face you.

“I’ll do it, but you better help me out and you are not allowed to smoke while we do that, I hate the smell”

You could swear you saw an amused smile on his face when he threw his last pack of Luckys on your desk. Soon enough you prepared your typewriter checking if you had enough ribbon and paper for your work, finally you sat down and stared at the man in front of you, it took him a few seconds to realize you were ready to start. 

At some point he took his jacket off and slowly put it on the chair he was sitting on, took of his tie and rolled up his sleeves, you tried not to stare at the man in front of you. If he caught you looking up and down he never said a word. It was not the first time you stared at this much feared man, truth be told you caught yourself staring at him more than once. Nix being the observant little bitch he was had this creepy little smile when he caught you one night looking at the Easy captain. You muttered something like “I’m gonna kill you” and prayed to god that he could send the biggest crate of whisky he could find so Lewis would get so drunk he would forget it.

You cleaned your throat, took a deep breath and asked for a small pause to take a glass of water. The man nodded and took a few steps to the little window and watched the landscape outside until you said you were finally ready again. “Back to work” you said to yourself.

….. 

When you two finished the sun was no longer up, just in time for him to turn on the report. While working on he would tap his fingers on your desk and look nervously at the watch on his wrist, but he never complained or tried to hurry you up. He quickly looked at the papers you cautiously handed him and shook his head, approving the final result.

“So that’s it?” he asked you, his voice soft and quiet.

“Yes that’s it, just write your name over here and we’re done” you said pointing at the blank space you left over his name at the end of the paper. 

He asked if you could borrow a pen for him to use and said a few “thanks” while signing the paper before leaving your office and storming out in the direction of the HQ, he never returned your pen but you didn’t even mind.

Then after composing yourself by stretching your back and taking a sip of your already cold coffee you decided to head down to the closest pub you could find, but firstly you changed your boots. Nix was right as you could use some new ones, but since you were so small compared to the rest of the guys it was nearly impossible to find some fitting boots, yet Speirs somehow got his hand in a pair just of the right size.

When you finally arrived at the bar your eyes took a few seconds to adjust to the lighting of the room, you then scanned the tables looking for Nix and Dick. When you recognized the friendly faces you started to move towards them, but then you felt a tap on your shoulders and turned to see who it was. 

“Hey excuse me Y/L/N, Captain Speirs asked me to hand you this” It was Lieutenant Lipton holding an envelope in his hand, like it was a classified piece of information that could change the war. This man took his duties very seriously, you thought to yourself as you took the envelope and put it in your pocket.

“Thank you Lieutenant” you said smiling at the officer in front of you, who smiled back and took his leave joining his men at the other table. 

You then walked to the barman and asked for a beer, when you were reaching into your pocket to find some money to pay the man he shook his head and his hands as if trying to say no, he paused a few seconds trying to remember the words in your language and explained the best way he could that someone had taken care of it, offered you some food, the most glorious, golden fried potatoes you’ve ever saw in your life.

As you walked down to the table holding your plate the Easy men stared at you as if you were a goddess walking on water or something, then started to shout at the barman asking for the same food. Dick and Nix exchanged a funny look between each other and Nix tried to take some of your fries before you slapped his hand. 

When you tried the first one you closed your eyes, it hit you like a full speed train crashing into a wall, so many emotions one after another, after months of terrible stinky food there was this little piece of heaven. You took a big gulp of the beer in front of you, and then someone put another pint in front of you, and then another one, and another one. You could swear it was the best feeling in quite some time, the men shouting and laughing all around you telling tales and jokes about Toccoa Camp, Sobel or Dike or some officer they hated, Nixon pestering Dick about something, all the stuff, all at once you almost forgot the place you were, what you were fighting for. 

Forgot….. 

Then you remembered the note that Speirs left you and you suddenly felt a rush that almost made you fall off your chair. You don’t know if it was the fourth (or fifth?) beer you had but you felt your hands trembling as you opened the envelope. Inside there was this carefully folded paper, you stared at it for some time before gathering the courage to open it, just to find this beautiful handwriting, you didn’t expect to come from the toughest son of a bitch in the entire army. 

“Dearest (Y/N),

Thank you so much for your help today. I will never forget it and I will find a way to repay you somehow. One night you said that as a kid you used to eat french fries when you were feeling down, so I took the liberty to ask Matthijs the barman to do something special for you. 

I hope it brings you a piece of home! Enjoy whatever you want, he is going to put on my account and don’t even try to argue with him or me about it”

Sincerely yours.

Capt. Ronald Speirs.

“P.S: I have some more paperwork due to the next week, I hope you don’t mind”

You smiled to yourself as you read it again and again, every time your heart would jump when you stopped at the YOU, your name written, your brain froze right there as if it could take a picture just by staring. You didn’t mind that he would eventually bring more work, because somehow he managed to do so, he brought you home. 

You were tired, drunk and your head was spinning a little but if someone ever asked you then yes: it was worth it.

[jisungchan]

notice me | lee jeno

or: where your friends set you up (accidentally) so you end up alone with your hot college professor, lee jeno

⚔︎ warnings: professor!jeno x student!reader (therefore powerplay), unprotected penetrative piv sex (pls wrap it we cannot have anymore children in this economy and society), oral + fingering (f receiving) softdom!jeno x sub!reader (ish? not really strong dynamics tbh), bigdick!jeno agenda, light degradation/praise (idk he just yappin fr), oh yea... YAPPER JENO idc🗣, sexy consent, he finished inside so BEWARE (once again PLEASE do not bring anymore poor children in this world), light nipple play, marking ?? (hickeys galore), afab!reader with she/her pronouns, NO race specific descriptors (skin colour, hair texture, etc.), NO body type specific descriptors (size of reader body parts, height, weight, etc.). also this is basically porn w/o plot ngl but it's whatever ig

^^ let me know if i forgot anything hehe

2k word count

a/n: i completely gutted this blog and deleted all my old posts because that was a completely different audience/fandom and i have now ventured here... i haven't wrote something like this in a while so it's quite bad

“yeah i mean, he is hot, but he’s our teacher.” you exclaimed to your friends, gossiping about your teacher, professor lee jeno.

the way he would loosen his tie in class sometimes and peer at students through his glasses was just too much to handle. the dark haired older man was definitely easy on the eyes. 

“okay… so? i would let him hit any day.” your friend said, and you all laughed, yet were all in agreement. 

next thing you knew. it was time for class with the devil himself.

you sat in your usual seat next to your friends. while they all usually messed around during class, you always paid attention. your education was very important to you, and you weren’t going to let anyone get in the way of that. so you sat there, studiously taking notes and listening intently to everything said, taking it all in. 

as you were taking notes, a note got passed to you. “listening extra hard to your boyfriend today huh?” you rolled your eyes at the familiar handwriting and shot your friends an irritated look. 

professor lee got a glimpse of this, he peered through his glasses, and shot you a dangerous glare. 

“y/n, see me after class please.” he said, before swiftly turning around to finish his lecture. 

you couldn’t focus the rest of the class, so you settled for writing your thoughts in your notebook. how were you supposed to see him one on one? you could barely handle him in class. you made note to go off on your friends after you were done seeing mr. lee. 

then, the bell rang. students fled the room, nobody quicker than your friend group, feeling a little guilty for getting you in trouble. 

“so, y/n, passing notes in my class, are we?” he said, his back turned to you, erasing the board filled with an hour’s worth of notes. 

“i’m sorry, it’s just a stupid note my friends passed to me.” you mumbled back. He motioned you to come to his desk as he sat down in his chair. of course you obliged, immediately going to the opposite side of his desk. 

“let me see it.” he said emotionlessly, his hand out expecting it to fall in his palm.

“no sir, please, it’s just a stupid joke.” you pleaded, but his hand still was expectantly extended.

eventually, you dropped it in the palm of his large hands. he opened and read the note aloud, finishing with a hint of a little smirk.

you shuffled in place, cheeks burning and blushing from him reading it out loud, it was so embarrassing and you wanted to die on the spot. 

“i see someone has a little crush. you’re a good student, you know that y/n?” he said to your surprise. 

“thank you sir, i try my best.”

“and i think good girls deserve a little reward, wouldn’t you agree?” 

you looked up to him loosening his tie and taking his jacket off. 

“come, sit.” he said as he patted the desk right in front of him.

blindly, you obeyed. mind blurry from the very sudden and odd words coming from your teacher. you sat atop the desk, right in front of his sitting figure, and more importantly, his face. you kept your legs clamped shut, and you regretted wearing such a short skirt today.

“don’t be shy now love, like i said, good girls deserve rewards, now let me reward you, yeah?

you nodded, and with that, he separated your legs, staring hungrily at the wetness leaking through your underwear. 

he laughed.

“already? i see that ‘stupid little joke’ must be getting to you, hmm?"

this was all too embarrassing, you tried to close your legs back, but jeno was too strong. he tsked and widened your legs even more. then, he scooped your underwear with one finger, tugging it down your legs. 

“was so excited when i saw you with that note, finally had an excuse to get you alone.” he said, his hands lightly grazing your inner thighs.

he stood, hovering over you, and kissed you. 

it wasn’t desparate and harsh, but slow and sensual. he licked your lower lip, then took it between his teeth. he placed his hands on your hips as he continued. he moved down to your neck, embedding hickeys into your skin. 

“how true is that note? is that why you’re such a good student in my class?” he questioned you once again.

“yes, no? i do genuinely enjoy your class, sir” you breathlessly replied. 

he sat back down, you could feel his breath on your wet, eager cunt, just waiting for him to do something about it.

and as soon as you uttered a 

please

jeno wasted no time to please you.

his wet, experienced tongue masterfully landed on your clit, giving you little kitten licks. then, he pressed his lips on you, making out with your sloppy mess of a cunt. his tongue circling around your entrance, teasing it until finally replacing it with a finger. his tongue went back to stimulating your clit as his finger repeatedly abused your hole over and over again. he added another, and you’ve never felt so full. as if his long, veiny fingers weren’t enough, he curled them, hitting your sweet spot causing broken whimpers to fall from your quivering lips. moans escaped your mouth as he kept going.

as he heard your gasps of exasperation, he looked up, boring his brown eyes into yours.

  “such a sweet pussy for a sweet girl.”

he continued his actions, until eventually you started getting restless, pulling on his hair tightly and squirming around.

“go ahead, cum on my fingers darling” he commanded softly.

and with that, you were sent over the edge, making a mess of his fingers and all over his mouth. you thought your ‘reward’ was finished, but jeno had other plans. 

“you thought that was all? y/n, you are my top student, i have to treat you accordingly.”

then, he flipped you over on your chest, ass out in the air.  

“no spanking this time, but if you act up again, i will have to punish you, okay?”

“yes sir!” you replied eagerly.

with that, he placed his throbbing cock at your entrance, teasing you and himself with just the tip. you hadn’t even seen his dick, but from the tip, you could tell it was big.

he leans over, chest to your back, speaking lowly in your ear,

“i’ll show you how a real man fucks,”

he pushes himself in a bit 

“how you should be fucked”

he pushes himself halfway into you, you’re already whining at the stretch 

“you’re gonna walk out of here and never want anyone else’s dick ever again.”

and with that, jeno forces the rest of his length inside you, licking the shell of your ear as he stands back up.

your pussy squeezes in shock from him throbbing inside of you. he hasn’t even moved yet, but you can already feel yourself becoming undone. 

“you still with me baby? hmm? can’t have you fucked out when i haven’t even fucked you yet, can we?” he asks mockingly, squishing your cheeks with his hand to turn your face toward him.

jeno just thinks you look so beautiful, face flushed with lust and eyes glossy with desire as you shake your head no. 

“use your words baby, need to hear how much you want your professor’s cock.” he starts shallowly thrusting, just enough to make you let out a quiet moan.

“please, fuck, please fuck me. needed you for so long.” you whine, attempting to grind back on him in effort to get some friction for your poor needy cunt. he picks up the speed, starting to drag his dick in and out at a more rapid speed. you can feel each vein massaging your gummy walls. 

“fuck, me too baby. every time i saw you walk into class, just wanted to bend you over the desk and fuck you just like this. let everyone see how much of a slut you are for me.”

your head hangs down, forehead against the desk as he presses his hand in your back, causing you to arch even more. high on euphoria and need, you start bouncing your ass back on him, meeting him halfway. you hear a small laugh that turns into a low grunt at your actions, when he suddenly pulls out. 

sad at the feeling of emptiness, you didn’t even have a chance to protest before he flips you around, ass on the desk and your arms keeping you sitting up. 

“wanna see those pretty tits bounce when i fuck you.” is all he says, before he ruthlessly enters you again, going even faster than before. 

you moan and clench around the feeling, never having felt so full before. you’re gushing around him still, causing his length to be covered with your slick, it even dripped all over his desk and over both your thighs; though, you’re too turned on and needy to even be embarrassed. all you need right now is to cum around him.

you lift your shirt up, granting his wish of seeing your chest bounce and jiggle as he fucks up into you. he groans and takes one in his hand, kneading it and rolling your nipple before pinching it, making you yelp. he then brings his head down to paint more hickeys all over your now exposed chest, leaving so many littered across your skin. 

“is my pretty girl enjoying herself on my cock?” he hums as he kisses back up to your neck. 

you moaned in response, not able to formulate words. his gentle question was contrasted by how hard he was ramming into you. with every thrust you heard your skin clapping together; you swore you both were going to break his desk.

“you’re gonna let me cum in you, right? be my perfect little student and let me cum in you, yeah?” 

“yes please, god, i need you to cum in me. wanna be so full of you, please.” you choked out, furiously nodding your head. 

he kept going at a steady pace, fucking himself into you over and over again, chasing after his release. he placed his thumb on your clit rubbing circles, with the other gripping your waist.

“cum with me, yea? make a mess on my pretty cock, okay?” he cooed in your ear once again. that was all you needed to finish, and you came all over him as he came inside of you. 

after a moment of each of you catching your breath, he pulled out. you whined at the feeling, especially as you felt his cum start to leak out of you. he took his finger, gathering it, and pressed it back into you. you hissed at the feeling of his finger in your sensitive cunt again, but he kept fingering you through your overstimulation. the moment he placed his thumb on your cunt, you came for a third time, crying out his name. 

he cleaned you up with his handkerchief, slipped your underwear back on for you, and even helped you fix your clothes and hair. he looked at you fondly as you soothed face, still showing evidence of your semi-fucked out state. 

“you were so good for me, how about a free private tutor session at my place? i could go into so much more depth than what we discussed here.”

i do not give permission for my work to be translated or reposted.

[penny00dreadful]

Somebody To Love - Part 4

Hey so AO3 went down and that kinda sucked BUT it did allow me to get some writing done soooo... here you go!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

The two children Steve had sent to replace him were god damn menaces.

Well, maybe not children but they were still so goddamn young.

And they didn’t let him get away with anything. Standing over him with their arms crossed and twin looks of disapproval on their faces like the god-damn Men in Black of babysitters.

He wasn’t, like, under house arrest or anything. He was still able to get his fix whenever he wanted. He was still able to drink himself into oblivion, but they didn’t handle him with as much care as Steve had.

He had numerous opportunities to go out and get laid six ways from Sunday as well but… he wasn’t really feeling it.

Though he refused to pinpoint why.

“You know, this would have never happened if you’d just show me the list.” Eddie crossed his own arms, trying to put as much petulant haughtiness into his tone as he could muster, lying where he landed in the grass of his back garden with his pants around his ankles. At least his underwear had stayed on.

This time.

How did he get there?

Didn’t matter.

That tree was out to get him. Fuck that tree. That tree was no longer his number two favourite climbing tree. It had been bumped down to number eight to go along with the tree that dropped an apple on his head like he was Newton and the tree that had covered him in sticky sap that took forever to get off.

The woman, Max, who perpetually had her red hair in a long braid down her back, cocked an eyebrow at him. “I don’t ever remember telling him he couldn’t see the list." She said with an air of nonchalance, looking over at her co-babysitter. "Do you, Dustin?”

“You know, I think you’re right, Max." Dustin matched her tone. "I think Eddie just assumed he wasn’t allowed to see it and ran with it.”

“Hey, fuck you, man." Eddie pointed up at him. "You're supposed to be on my side. Nerds of a feather.”

"I'm on the side of the truth. Like any good scientist."

"You're a babysitter."

Dustin shrugged. "And I have hobbies."

Max rolled her eyes. “Pull your pants back up like a good little boy and I’ll show you the list.”

“I could fire you on the spot, Red, don’t test me.”

She bent low, placing her hands on her knees so she was looming menacingly over him.

“Do it." She grinned down at him. "I fucking dare you.”

Eddie scoffed. "Whatever." 

But he did still stand, bucking his pants back up.

Despite everything he was loath to admit he really liked those two. They didn't take any of his shit and they treated him like a human person rather than some mythical celebrity they had to bow and scrape to.

He held his hand out expectantly.

“Oh, we don’t have it on us.” Max said, her eyes glittering with malicious glee. “It’s on the kitchen counter.”

“Fuck off 'it’s on the kitchen counter.'”

“No, it is.” Dustin nodded. “We put it there last week.”

“We’re keeping a running tally for how many times you’ve walked past it.”

“I think we’re up to fifteen now?”

Eddie did not stomp his foot. “That’s so not fair! You know I’m off my meds!”

“You’re off your meds because of the amount of recreational shit you imbibe. That’s on you." Dustin poked him in the chest. "Maybe if you were sober for five minutes you’d have noticed it.”

Eddie turned his back on them and started to make his way towards the house. They might have had a point as to why he was off his ADHD meds but Eddie was a stubborn fucker so he’d never admit it to them.

He snatched up the list that he genuinely only just noticed for the first time because it was pointed out to him and eagerly read through Steve’s recognisable handwriting.

It was a lot shorter than he thought it would be but also it kind of covered everything?

Make sure he keeps himself alive.

Don’t let him do stupid shit.

Don’t let him kill himself with:

Alcohol poisoning.

Drug overdose.

Some super fucked up STD.

Eating shellfish by accident again.

Chasing a balloon into traffic or whatever.

If you have to put him in a protective bubble, do it.

Max, if he gets mean, get meaner.

Dustin, if he tries to worm his way out of listening to you by claiming to be ‘cool’, remind him of the time he wore a plain black suit to the Met Gala-

“Okay!” Eddie shouted into the kitchen around him, slamming the list back down with a smack. “Low fucking blow, Steve!”

“I mean, it’s true isn’t it?” Max pointed out, pulling herself up to sit on the counter.

“Listen,” he ran a hand through his hair, keeping his volume high, “It was one time and it was my first Met, I was nervous, alright?! Plus! It wasn’t even a plain black suit, it was Chanel, hello??” He waved his hand around. “It had accessories??”

Dustin leaned his elbows on the counter and rested his chin in his hands. “Steve wore yellow.”

“Yes, I know Steve wore yellow-”

“He wore a beautifully cut little yellow suit with a cape and he wasn’t even there as your plus one,” Max smirked, ���he was there as your assistant and he was still better dressed than you.”

“Alright-”

“Rhianna complimented him. Said great minds think alike.”

“She was in nothing but a cape so-” Eddie threw his head back in offence. “Whatever, good luck keeping up with me, children. I’m gonna go find some prawns or some scallops and you two,” he pointed at each of them in turn, “can explain my big fat puffy face to Steve when he gets back in a few days.”

Neither of them were even remotely phased.

Eddie was practically rattling by the time Steve was due to fly back in from… wherever he’d been. Even though he probably wouldn’t see him immediately.

Like, the guy had his own home to go to, his own stuff to get reacquainted with.

His own platonic soulmate to reunite with.

So why would he call over? Steve had his own life. He had no... no obligation to come see Eddie immediately.

And that was fine.

Eddie would see him tomorrow, more than likely.

So it was no big deal.

It was fine.

It had been nearly a month since they’d spoken. It was the longest stretch of time they’d gone apart in… Jesus nearly ten years?

And Eddie had handled it fine. 

He had been so normal about it.

It wasn’t like he’d been missing a limb.

It wasn’t like half his heart had been ripped out and shipped off on a plane to wherever.

Wasn't like he'd been thinking about Steve every day, every night, every spare fucking moment he had.

Why would he?

He was... it was all... everything was fine.

He was sitting in his basement studio, plucking a stream of consciousness on his guitar that sometimes crystallised into something coherent and sometimes was something that was stuck in his head.

He looked like a ratty mess, the same worn out pyjama pants and band tees that had been with him ever since he lived in a trailer park in rural Indiana.

They were comfort clothes more than anything at this stage.

His hair… he couldn’t be dealing with his hair right now, it seemed to be out to irritate him on that particular day. Every time a strand brushed against his neck or his cheek it made him want to crawl out of his skin. He’d yanked it violently up onto the top of his head, but each repeated, frustrated shoving of a stray strand back into the bun just caused more to fall out.

He was trying desperately to distract himself but his blood was itching for… something.

He hadn’t had a good fix in a while, he wanted to be sober and clear headed for when he saw Steve again but the heightened anxiety really wasn’t helping the situation. He didn’t usually get so twitchy when he was sober, but then again, he couldn’t really remember the last time he’d been actively trying to stay away from everything. 

And maybe that shocked him a little more than it should.

Maybe it scared him just the right amount.

But it could easily be a losing battle because there were hidden nooks and crannies everywhere in his house holding some kind of mind altering substance in them. Even on the couch in his studio he could probably reach down in between the cushions and pull out a baggy of pills he'd forgotten down there at some point. He didn’t even know what half the pills he found dotted around were anymore, they could be sugar for all he knew but they were there and they wouldn’t stop whispering to him.

He wasn’t even conscious of what he was playing. It was only when he realised he was muttering lyrics to himself that he figured out what was living in his brain and automatically spilling out around him.

Somebody (Somebody) Ooh, somebody (Somebody) Can anybody find me somebody to love?

Eddie softly snorted to himself, a little self deprecatingly. Oh, the irony, he thought, especially considering-

“That’s my favourite.”

Eddie whipped around to see Steve fucking Harrington leaning against the door of his studio.

He looked, well, there was no word for it other than glowing. His skin was darker, his hair a touch lighter, the dusting of freckles over his nose had exploded in volume and pigmentation and he looked good. He looked so good. 

More than that, it was like he’d brought the sunlight back with him because he’d clearly been somewhere sunny, maybe on a tropical beach somewhere. Somewhere that suited him as a person.

It was like the smell of the ocean entered the room with him.

“Stevie!” Eddie shot up from the couch, discarding his guitar a little carelessly before all but throwing himself at him, arms and legs wrapped around him, clinging on for dear life. “You’re back! You’re here!”

Steve stiffened up momentarily, unusually, before relaxing into it, holding him tight. “I’m here.” He muttered softly into Eddie’s neck.

“Tell me everything sweetheart, how was it? Where did you go? What was it like not to have to run around after an overgrown toddler such as myself-?” Eddie pulled away with a smile, back on solid ground but his grin faltered when he noticed Steve’s own smile had an almost sad tilt to it.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” He shrugged off Eddie’s concern. “Went to Hawaii. It was a good time, I’d recommend it to you but I don’t know how well your skin would be able to take that much sun.” He laughed. It was almost performative. He wouldn’t meet Eddie’s eyes anymore. “Met some people. Had some fun. You know, vacation stuff. How were Dustin and Max, could they keep up with you?”

Eddie swallowed and tried not to let the cold wash of emotion completely pull him under. “You- you met some people, huh?” He was going for light. He really was going for light, but it came out just a touch too shaky to really pull it off.

“Yeah.”

“What kind of people?”

“I dunno, people. You know, vacation people.”

Eddie nodded and tried to shove everything, everything he was feeling far, far away. He had no right to feel so heartbroken, he didn’t.

Steve was… he deserved to let loose.

And if that meant meeting some people while away on vacation, that was none of Eddie’s god-damn business. After all, it was nothing compared to what he’d been doing to Steve for years.

“Right.”

Steve frowned at him. “What’s with the face?”

“What face?”

“That face.” He circled his finger around Eddie’s head. “You look like I just killed your dog.”

Eddie shook his head. “Did you find what you were looking for? Out there?”

There was a pause.

“I thought I did.” Steve crossed his arms. “I thought I had… escaped it, I suppose? But,” he sighed, “I think I know now it’s going to be with me forever.”

He looked up again, fixing Eddie with that same sad smile, like Eddie couldn’t see right through him, like he couldn’t tell. But how long had Steve been looking at him like that and how many times had Eddie not seen it?

Steve had thought he'd escaped him.

Or escaped his soul-crushing and unrequited love.

But was it even unrequited?

Last month Eddie would have been sure the answer was an unfortunate yes, it was unrequited.

But now he wasn't so sure.

The last month without Steve had been torture.

Steve had left on vacation to escape Eddie's effect on him, had met up with vacation people and thought it had worked...

Then he came back and...

Eddie needed to sit down.

He dropped himself heavily back down on the couch and put his head in his hands.

“Sounds like some kind of tragic love story.” He muttered into the space between them.

“Yeah.” Steve’s voice was soft. “I think it is.”

Eddie looked up at him, heart breaking in two just from how resigned to his fate Steve sounded and Eddie could feel it. He could feel it, like he knew, like he felt the same, like he’d been… for all this time…

“What were you escaping?” He asked, his voice smaller than he was used to hearing it. It was a dick question, it was a hard question to even get out but he had to know.

He had to be sure.

Because if he was sure then maybe…

Steve looked at him with his big sad eyes and his resigned posture and defeat written all over his figure. “Please don’t ask me that.”

“Stevie-”

“No. Please, Eddie. I… I can’t.”

“Why?” He pushed the word out into the air like it had personally offended him. “Why can’t you just talk to me about this? Why can’t you tell me? We tell each other everything. You’ve never hidden anything from me.”

Steve laughed, some cold, sad, biting thing. “Eddie, I've been hiding this thing from you for years.”

“But, please, Stevie, I need to know. I need you to tell me. Because, I don’t know. Maybe-” Eddie reached out, trying to grasp at Steve’s hand but Steve pulled back violently.

Like Eddie could burn him with just a touch.

“Don’t. Just- I can’t tell you, you know why I can’t tell you!”

“No, I don’t!” And Eddie really didn’t. Why was this so hard, why was it so hard for him to just… admit it?

“Because!” Steve stood in front of him, sudden and frantic, like a man who’d been clinging onto his last threat of patience and sanity and had just lost his grip, hands in his hair and staring at Eddie with wide glistening, pleading eyes. “Because I’d have to leave! I couldn’t stay if I did tell you! It would- it would be unethical and unprofessional-”

“Stevie, you know you’re more to me than an employee.”

“Yes, I do, but…” Steve deflated all at once, the very soul inside him crumpling under the weight of everything. “But what would happen if I did tell you?” He whispered, swallowing around a lump in his throat. “We’d try to continue on as normal but now there’s this thing hanging over every interaction we have from now until forever and you’ll start to get uncomfortable and it’ll be a thing. And you’ll never be able to look at me as just a friend anymore and I’ll get so distracted I won’t be able to do my job and I’ll have to go, for both our sakes and that would kill me, Eddie. I need you in my life like I need fucking air, as fucked up and infuriating as you are, I need you in my life.”

“But,” Eddie was making a valiant effort to will away the lump in his own throat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever felt so unsure about something, like every word had the power to destroy if he picked the wrong one. Like everything around them was ready to shatter like a Prince Rupert’s drop if touched the wrong way. “What if that doesn’t happen? What if… what if we gave it a go…?”

Steve somehow slumped even more, dragging his hands down from his hair to cover his face, another laugh breaking out of his lungs that was clearly mingled up with a sob. “That would be even worse.” He murmured. 

“How could that possibly be worse?! Would it really be so bad to be in a relationship with me?”

“Yes, Eddie!” Steve hissed, glaring at him with red, shiny eyes. “Yes, it would! Because I know you. You don’t do relationships. Any ones you have had you’ve imploded before they go anywhere past semi-serious and I cannot do that. I cannot be given a taste and then just have to go the rest of my life without it because you got bored or self-destructive or realised it wasn’t what you wanted, that I-”

Steve abruptly cut himself off and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes again. “I can’t do it, Eddie. If I just became another notch… I don’t think I’d ever recover. It would destroy me.”

Eddie put his own head in his hands again, ignoring the jerking movements of his bouncing knee. The worst part was that he couldn’t disagree with what Steve had said about his attitude with people, about how he treated those he was with. 

He couldn’t even be angry or defensive about it because it was true. It was so true the both of them knew it was plainly factual, there was no point arguing.

Anyone he’d ever had a relationship with before, he’d either dropped once the shine had worn off, or shoved away using cutting words or sunk himself so deep into drugs and alcohol it was a miracle Steve had ever been able to drag him out.

Because it was always Steve dragging him out. It was always Steve listening to him bitch and moan about how love was for fantasists, no one was ever happy in relationships, having to cut themselves down by half to accommodate someone else, how he’d never catch himself in that trap for as long as he lived, how he’d swear off ever chaining himself down to bullshit monogamy again.

Until the next pretty face or bouncy ass walked by.

Of course Steve would think that about him. Eddie thought that about himself. Believed it about himself until very, very recently, when even the thought of Steve leaving his life forever sent a cold spike of dread and desperation through him.

“Okay,” Eddie rubbed his face. “But, what if… How do I- what if I prove it to you?”

Steve inhaled deeply then exhaled harshly toward the floor and dragged his hands away from his eyes. His face was blotchy and wet and miserable, his eyes were raw red and resigned. 

“Prove what?”

“That I…” Eddie dragged a hand through his hair, gripping on tight. “That I want to be serious about this. That I- if I get a chance, if you give me a chance to have you, that I’m going to keep you. Forever.”

Steve shook his head. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Eds.”

“I’ll keep it.” Eddie raised his head, meeting Steve’s eyes again and trying to will his sincerity across the room. “I’ll always keep it with you. If you love me like I suspect you do, I’m gonna work every god-damned day to keep that promise. Because I think I’ve been in love with you for just as long-”

“Please,” Steve’s voice cracked, harsh and painful sounding, “don’t say that if you don’t mean it-”

“I mean it.” He clasped his hands in front of him, almost begging Steve to hear him. To understand just how serious he was. “I swear on everything I hold dear, I mean it. I swear on my guitar I mean it.”

Steve looked so… he looked so hurt. Like everything he’d been hiding from himself, everything he’d been hiding from Eddie for so long, for years was all coursing through him at full force.

Steve crossed his arms over his chest and considered him.

“I’ll think about it.” His voice was quiet, but it wasn’t so despairing as it had been.

Eddie stood. He wanted to get closer, he wanted to wrap Steve up in his arms and never let go, he wanted to make it better but he didn’t dare move any closer.

“What do you need?”

“I don’t know. I think right now I just need a little time. And space. Again. I might have to extend my vacation just for a few more days. To get my head on straight.”

“Yeah, of course.” Eddie exhaled, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “Whatever you need, baby.”

A wounded, painful sound was pulled from Steve’s throat against his will and Eddie flinched backward.

“Jesus, shit. I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

Steve just shook his head, not meeting his eyes anymore. 

“Dustin and Max will be back tomorrow morning.” Steve didn’t raise his eyes again, keeping them firmly on the ground as he picked up his bag.

Eddie could only whisper out a small ‘okay’. He felt like if he said or did anything else, Steve might shatter into a million tiny pieces and he couldn’t- he wouldn’t let that happen.

The same way it had happened a month ago, Eddie watched Steve leave the room, staring at the door long after he’d gone.

But even though it was the same this time, it was also different.

Because now he had a terrible hope building in his chest.

Now he had work to do.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

It was Chanel, hello?? It had accessories??

An idea of Steve's yellow suit

And, of course, Rhianna's iconic cape

This is the video I watched to visualise Eddie playing away in his basement studio. Watch it and let your mind wander 🤭 (specifically 1:23 is the part Eddie is playing in the fic)

@lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring, @child-of-cthulhu, @sweetwaterangel, @anaibis, @katytheinspiredworkaholic, @littlewildflowerkitten, @hallucinatedjosten, @estrellami-1, @gregre369, @stxrcrossed186, @novelnovella, @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme, @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere, @thesuninyaface, @messrs-weasley

[turbulentscrawl]

Ganji Gupta General HCs

I'm unable to make a header for Ganji at the moment, but I'll add one to the post later when I can get on my good desktop.

Edit: Added!

-First of all, in case it isn’t clear, Ganji started the fire. However, it’s important to note that Ganji chose arson for a few specific reasons. Plausible deniability was one. The second was that a fire gave people a chance to escape. Ganji believes in something along the lines of karma (I’m not especially religious or philosophical myself so I don’t feel inclined to pick one in particular for him), and a fire better allowed that to step in and save his targets. If the universe or whatever higher power, decided they deserved to live then they would, and Ganji could rest assured that they weren’t a wholly bad person. All but that child perished in the smoke and flames, though, so that settles that doesn’t it?

-Ganji is a man suffering from disillusionment. This is the result of him being taken advantage of. He left everything behind, came to another county just for the sport he loved, for his passion, only to find out that he was seen as nothing more than a novelty item. Something—not even a someone—kept around because his very existence was “amusing.” Disgusting.

-And it all happened because he’s naïve. He knows this, and just about everyone that’s around him for more than a day knows it, so now he’s incredibly protective of that aspect of himself. He’s not self-conscious of it or anything, he knows that naivety is just as aspect of someone being kind and trusting, but he’ll be damned if he lets someone else use him to their benefit again.

-Like Andrew, he’s developed a tendency to be sharp and reclusive as a defense mechanism. However, his emotional walls aren’t as thick, as dense. In a way, his hurt runs less deep because he doesn’t have self-hatred to factor into the cocktail of his pain. He warms to people faster and has a sweeter disposition under his cover…but you’ll have to be persistent if you want to get to that point. Ganji will shrug off offerings of kindness several times before giving someone a chance.

-In-line with his kindheartedness, but counter to the façade he puts up, Ganji can’t ignore someone else in real need. His mask falls as soon as someone’s peace or safety are threatened. He’s either the greatest hero or the biggest liability to have in a match because he can and will charge head-long into a hunter if it means saving another survivor. Even the ones he doesn’t like all that much. Additionally, he’s generally willing to argue on behalf of someone not willing to speak up for themselves.

-This boy is hard-headed. Stubborn! There are so many stupid hills he’s willing to die on. But he’s also not very good at arguments (which is unfortunate, considering the above hc), he stumbles over his words a lot, jumbles his points up. He sounds a lot more put-together in writing than in person, but his handwriting is atrocious so honestly good luck reading it. Poor guy is at a communication crossroads and both roads lead to embarrassment.

-As one might guess, this all makes Ganji very one-track minded in matches…and with most of his problems in life. Something wrong, anything? Swing the bat. At a ball, at a head. You know, whatever the situation calls for.

-His nativity also means that he doesn’t pick up on flirtation well. Someone either has to be very direct or very patient for Ganji to pick up on their interest. When he does catch on, he’s hesitant to reciprocate. He can’t deny the appeal of relationships, but he hasn’t had one since before he left home. Things are different. Really different, considering the manor…but it’s not hard to convince the guy to give love a chance as long as you’re not overly pushy.

-He spends a lot of free time at the manor trying to get people to play cricket with him. It doesn’t matter that no one else is really good at it, he just misses playing. William and Mike are the only ones who agree regularly, and that’s certainly not enough people. Most others only play along for Ganji’s birthday.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

hanging clothes

Fandom: Masters of the Air Pairing: Harry Crosby x Sandra Westgate Rating: M Word Count: 1687

Summary: They’d let the night grow late around them, cozy by the fire, and then she’d said goodnight, and then she’d reached for him, and then she’d reached for him again.

If it was wrong (it was), at least it was honest: how he was looking at her. How Sandra knew it. God help Crosby because he hadn’t been subtle, but she’d been letting him get away with his long glances, the heavy gaze he kept foisting upon her. She’d always looked away. I can see that you’re married, she’d said when they’d met. Now, why did that fact work on her and not on him?

He loved his wife. He loved her so much that he didn’t just go and say something stupid like, I love my wife, and then make a move on his roommate regardless of that little legal commitment. He loved Jean too much to use her to cover his ass. If he cheated, he wouldn’t let it touch her.

Trying to pinpoint the time if became possible made him nauseous—and Crosby knew nauseous. If he had to guess—and Crosby knew guessing—he’d have said it was losing Bubbles. Bubbles had idolized Crosby and Jean’s relationship, gently though, practically. The letter that had found Crosby here at Oxford did something unexpected: it placed Jean, who was alive, alongside Bubbles, who was… who was dead. To Jean, Bubbles was just as alive as Crosby was, which, rather than sustaining Bubbles’ vitality a little longer, instead made Crosby feel as though his wife’d had a premonition of his death. It didn’t make him feel good, reading that letter. Somebody was always out of place.

Since he’d left her back home, Crosby had thought it was Jean. She’d seemed like she was on the other side of a high fence, and everything he had to do was part of a climb to get back to her. The first time he’d vaulted the fence—surviving a mission—he’d realized there would be more than one. After that, he’d kept jumpin’ ’em, but now, most of the guys he’d known missing or dead, he wasn’t even sure he felt like running anymore, let alone throwing himself up and over another fence that wouldn’t be the last. He couldn’t see the end of them. And the sight of Bubbles’ name in Jean’s handwriting… It was like Bubbles had gone over a fence Crosby couldn’t crane far enough to see the other side of, and it was killing Crosby that it felt as if Bubbles were with Jean, both of them forever untouchable, preserved someplace. He didn’t know how to write his wife back and tell her to stop mentioning Bubbles in her letters. He just wanted Jean to know without having to write it down. Equally, he didn’t want her to know. He wanted her apart from all this. He guessed he wanted two lives.

Don’t touch her, Crosby thought as Sandra set her glass on the table with a solid clack, getting out of this sad bar for two before last call.

But then she leaned towards him and gripped his arm. It was sympathy in her eyes, that was all, round and shiny with the reflected flames from the fire and the alcohol she’d tossed back with a tough elegance he’d felt someplace in his spine.

Crosby looked down, not yet embarrassed by the emotion he’d shown, but beginning to collect himself, to tell himself it was no good now, crying alone by the fire. He didn’t know for a fact that he’d have the strength to stop if he was on his own.

Sandra was on her feet and almost past him when she touched him again, her fingers trailing along his shoulder. Crosby’s heart pounded. In a flash, he’d reached up and caught her fingertips. He swallowed, then glanced up to her face. The first touch, he’d understood, but the second? Call him crazy, but it felt like Sandra’s answer to all his staring.

She returned his look like she was what the British officers believed Crosby to be: a foreigner out of their depth, unversed in local customs. Again, the relevant custom was sex, and Sandra was a self-declared “undersexed” Briton; he, a married man. But Crosby looked at Sandra and thought her naïveté was brave. Not ignorant, not something to be ashamed of. The room assignment hadn’t alarmed her. His stares hadn’t warned her off. They’d let the night grow late around them, cozy by the fire, and then she’d said goodnight, and then she’d reached for him, and then she’d reached for him again.

“Tell me what to think,” he said, holding her gaze and her fingers.

“I’m not sure I know myself, Captain.”

“You’re still a terrible liar.”

He got to his feet. Her fingertips brushed the softened pleat in his pantleg when he let them go. On impulse, he stroked her neck with the back of his fingers and felt the rabbit leap of her pulse. She watched him from the corner of her eye. He stared at her, longing.

When Sandra went, Crosby followed, leaving behind the glasses, the bottle, the fireside scene any romantic with half a brain could populate with a couple of lonely hearts. There was the faint swish of her stockings on the carpet, the thicker shuffle of his socks as he padded across the floor after her. They’d done their talking in his rooms, because it would’ve been so much more dangerous for her to invite him into hers—where he went now, navigating the corridor that separated their living spaces, not drunk but warmed through.

She stepped just inside the bedroom and turned. He glanced past her, taking in the bed, the full-length mirror, the chair just like the one in the bedroom he’d been assigned. He’d sat on his chair that morning to tie his shoes.

“You’re not coming in,” Sandra remarked.

Crosby rubbed his forehead.

“I don’t seem to be leaving either.” He laughed softly.

Tell me what to do, he wanted to request, as easily as he’d requested that she tell him what to think. Tell me who to be. Tell me it’s ok, or that it’s not. Tell me you know my type, and then describe it to me so I can figure out who I am again.

He just wanted something tender. He’d go to war just so he wouldn’t be in pain for a while. And she was lovely in the light of the fire, in the cool dark of the bedroom behind her. Both ways.

Sandra touched him again, cupping his cheek in her palm. He shut his eyes.

“We can pretend it was an accident,” she murmured, her hand slipping from his face.

Crosby opened his eyes because he didn’t know what she meant, only to see her closing the door in his face. Except she stopped while it was still ajar. He wanted to ask whether that was goodnight then, but he didn’t need to. He didn’t need to because he could still see the mirror through the cracked door. His eyes met Sandra’s in her reflection as she clicked on a lamp and began to unbutton her shirt.

Oh, this. This could be the accident. His cheeks flushed dramatically the instant he understood. His jaw clenched as he watched her, her pace unrushed but steady, each button slipped free of its hole with intention. Sandra gave her shirt a tug to untuck the tail from her skirt, then finished with the buttons. She was wearing a camisole underneath. It wasn’t sexy—nothing you’d paint on the nose of a B-17—but she wore it close to her body, under her uniform, and so Crosby was blindsided by how womanly it seemed, how private, how feminine.

Sandra painstakingly unrolled the sleeves she’d shoved up her arms earlier in the evening, then slipped off the shirt and walked out of Crosby’s field of view. He smiled at the thought that she’d probably gone to hang it up. He couldn’t imagine she’d be concerned about whether or not putting her clothes away properly was seductive, but he found that it was. He appreciated her routine. He liked that she couldn’t lie.

When she returned before the mirror, they found each other again and he felt something more. Sandra unbuttoned and unzipped her skirt. Crosby realized he was squeezing the doorjamb, his heart beginning to race. She pushed the wool down her hips, then started to bend over to, presumably, put it away as neatly as she had her shirt, but she straightened abruptly. He could tell by the way she avoided his eyes in the mirror that she must have been blushing. She nudged the skirt aside with her foot, and his gaze fell on her legs, roving from the girdle that covered her hips to her toes pointing in transparent stockings.

He didn’t think she was married, but he wasn’t sure. Did Sandra have a somebody too? A somebody who wouldn’t understand what she wished she’d never had to know? Crosby needed her so badly. He needed her to answer questions he felt he could only articulate with his body. He’d bet she felt the same. He couldn’t say another damn thing out loud, but he didn’t think he’d need to, not with Sandra. It could all be an accident. A botched room assignment—whoops. A little too much to drink by the fire—an honest mistake. His body on hers—fast, before they could think, so fast he didn’t get his pants all the way off.

His hand was on the doorknob.

How quickly could you fall in love? And was it worth it, to love more, when love burned the water out of you, making you weep in old buildings with near-strangers? When all you wanted, selfishly, was for the love you already had in you to stop? To stop, to end the pain in your chest, your throat, your gut? Crosby could enter, and they could search for answers without words.

He drew the door closed.

“Goodnight, Captain,” Sandra said from within.

“Goodnight,” he replied from without.

Crosby rested his forehead against the door and sighed. He felt an odd sense of mercy, but he didn’t know who it belonged to.

[hairstevington]

Hi! I would love to see the 1st Valentine’s Day prompt(a bouquet of their favourite flowers) for steddie! Specifically Eddie bringing Steve flowers(idk why but I’m a firm believer that Steve secretly loves getting gifted flowers lol!). If you do do this thank you so much!! <3333

Ahhhhhh yes LET’S GOOOO!!! Thanks for the request! (Ao3 link here!)

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: Some reeeeal fluffy shit, Eddie secretly pining over his best friend Steve, gay scheming, romance

A/N: This ended up being a bit more than just flowers, but hopefully it suffices! If anyone else is interested here is the prompt post, I also took inspiration from this cute lil post by @grandwretch :)

🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼

Eddie always teased Steve about his romantic conquests. They frequently discussed best practices for him to woo women - including knowing their favorite color, their birthday, their favorite movie, etc. Eddie watched Steve date beautiful woman after beautiful woman, always putting in so much effort and getting so little back.

That's probably why Eddie started doing it.

"Should I get her the blue bracelet or the green one?" Steve would ask.

"I dunno man, what's her favorite color?"

"Blue. But her eyes are green."

"Get the blue. The two colors look good together anyway," Eddie answered as if he was somehow the person to ask about such things. He'd never really dated anyone, but he'd seen a lot of movies, and watched a lot of high school couples date each other.

"Thanks," Steve would say. He was always appreciative for the second opinion, even though the opinion was based on nothing.

"No problem," Eddie smiled. "Hey, what's your favorite color?"

Any time Steve asked for advice, Eddie would eventually turn it back on Steve. It was all part of his master plan, you see - he wanted to make Steve feel special on Valentine's Day. Not in a gay way, he told himself. Steve's my friend, it's not like that.

He tried to convince himself he was doing it platonically, or because it would be funny to see Steve all flustered, but deep down Eddie knew that it was far more than that.

But him and Steve were friends, and that's all they'd ever be, and he'd accepted that.

A week before Valentine's Day, there was a package on Steve's doorstep addressed to him. He wasn't expecting any mail, and the box was so haphazardly wrapped it was almost scary. Like, he was pretty sure he'd seen this exact set-up in a horror movie. Main character gets mysterious package that ends up ruining their life.

(It didn't end up ruining his life, but it sure as hell changed it)

Inside the box was a teddy bear - one of those real cutesie ones you find at a giftshop this time of year. Steve was confused, and wondered if it was even delivered to the right place - sure enough, there was a handwritten note that confirmed it. I call him Steve Bearington, it read. Steve smiled, but still had no idea who it was from. The girl that he'd gone on a few dates with could never have been responsible for the disastrous way the gift was wrapped. He shrugged. It must have been a secret admirer - he got those sometimes.

He told Eddie about it the next day, and Eddie pretended to act surprised. He didn't want to give his secret away, especially when he went so far as to ask some random person to write out the stupid note so that Steve wouldn't recognize his handwriting. He probably should have asked them to wrap it, too, but whatever. Steve was so happy about it, so Eddie continued with his plan.

Eddie learned that Steve liked sour candy over chocolate, so he got him some. Then he wrote him a poem - it wasn't, like, the greatest thing ever written, but Eddie did tend to have a way with words. He delivered the candy two days before Valentine's Day, and on the eve of the holiday he had one of his other friends discreetly stick the poem on Steve's front door and ding-dong-ditch while he and Eddie were hanging out, just to throw him off his game even more.

"Oh my god, they did it again," Steve said when he picked the poem from the door. "Who is this person?" Eddie appreciated that he said person, instead of woman.

"What does it say?" Eddie asked, biting his lip to keep from grinning. He watched as Steve read it to himself first, his brow furrowing.

"It's, uh," he said, folding it nicely and putting it in his pocket. "It's good."

Hell yeah it is, Eddie thought to himself.

Steve had a date on Valentine's Day - Eddie knew this, and it was to be expected anyway, since Steve almost always had a date on most days. He was leaving at 7, so Eddie showed up at 6.

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

Steve didn't have much more to do to get ready for the date - he was already having a good hair day, and he'd picked out an outfit that had done him well in the past. He just was still caught up on who wrote him that poem.

Nobody had written him a poem before, like ever. Steve hadn't ever attempted to write one for anyone else. He wasn't that good at analyzing them in English class, so he'd grown a bit tired of poetry as a whole.

But the one left on his front door sparked a new appreciation for it.

He was confused when the doorbell rang, because he wasn't expecting anybody. Then, he wondered if maybe, he'd find another poem out there.

Instead, he found Eddie. Well, actually, he found a person standing there with flowers covering their face, but the mane of curly brown hair surrounding the flowers gave him away.

They were daisies. Eddie was probably the only person in the world that knew Steve liked daisies, and it wasn't even something he'd explicitly said. He just knew he was drawn to them when he saw them, and he'd pointed them out a few times while he was with Eddie.

"Special Valentine's delivery for Harrington!" Eddie announced, letting himself in. Steve watched as he set them on the table, confident as always, a bright smile on his face. But Steve was mostly just confused.

"What...the hell?" Eddie's bravado faltered just a little bit.

"Hasn't anyone ever gotten you flowers before?" Eddie asked.

"No, but I've bought a lot of flowers before, and -"

"Tsk tsk tsk," Eddie interrupted. "My point exactly. You deserve flowers too, Steve."

"God, what's with all the gifts from people this week?" Steve whined, completely overwhelmed. "Between this and the secret admirer thing, I just -"

Steve's head was spinning, and he wasn't the most observant person, but he did have enough sense to notice the way Eddie winced at the mention of the secret admirer.

"Yeah, well," Eddie said, his tone softer than before. "Like I said, you deserve it."

There was a thick silence as Steve realized what was happening.

"Eddie..." he said, putting it all together. Eddie was the only one who would have known to get him any of that stuff. Steve openly told Eddie all kinds of things he never admitted to anyone else, because he didn't think Eddie was paying attention. He certainly didn't think Eddie had been filing it away to do this.

"I hope you have a good date tonight," Eddie said, suddenly feeling quite stupid about this whole thing. He turned to leave, but Steve stopped him.

"The poem - you wrote it?" Eddie nodded.

Steve thought about straight-up reciting it to Eddie in that moment, to prove to him just how much he liked it. He'd read it so many times it was burned into his brain, just as he wanted it to be.

Huh.

He wasn't expecting this from his best friend, but he was shocked at how weird it didn't feel. Finding out Eddie had been his secret admirer just made sense.

"Doesn't have to be a big deal," Eddie mumbled. "I just - I don't want this to - Like, I'm sorry if -"

"I gotta go cancel my plans with Deb," Steve said.

"What?"

"She'll live. Besides, it wouldn't be that cool of me to go out with someone when I'm thinking about someone else."

"What?" Eddie repeated. He really didn't expect to get this far. "What are you saying?"

Steve smiled - his brilliant, trademark smile that always made Eddie feel warm inside.

"Do you wanna be my Valentine, Munson?"

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[sarahwroteathing]

Dear Sam (2)

[Sam Wilson x Reader]

Word Count: 1615

Summary: You begin drafting your letter to Sam, and old memories resurface.

Warnings: Discussion of grief

A/N: Surpriiiiiiiiise. I once again kool-aid man my way back to my blog to post a thing. Any and all gratitude for my sudden reappearance can be directed to @indominusregina I am here to bum you out on your birthday, like a true friend. Love you, bestie

Part One

There were false starts, many of them, written in a notebook you kept in your nightstand drawer. The handwriting on each varied slightly, reflecting the emotional state of each version of yourself that risked putting pen to paper. 

The first try came out jagged. Awkward. A handwriting reminiscent of high school note taking, messy and vaguely frantic, with half transformed letters sprinkled throughout, where your hand tried and almost failed to keep up with the ever shifting message in your brain. 

Dear Sam, 

The comma started too high, an aborted beginning of a second m. Sammy, you’d almost written, before dismissing it as out of character. You’d only ever called him that in moments primed for a smile. Through a pout, syllables drawn out, dramatic and mostly insincere, in a half-hatched ploy to get your way. Or in a falsely scandalized tone, clutching at invisible pearls you’d never owned, to make him roll his eyes or double down on whatever flirtation he’d been throwing your way. Sometimes in profoundly giddy joy, the kind that sent you running to meet him in the entryway like an excitable child, throwing your arms around him and not even thinking twice about the pure, eager love you were displaying for him. 

In any case, not appropriate for now, for a form so thoroughly divorced from its proper contexts.

All I can think about is how I have no idea how to write this letter. How much better you would be at this. You were always good with emotion, with explaining things kindly and firmly, with making yourself understood. I think I got better with you, but I still feel underqualified to write something as important as this. But the point is, I’m the only one who can write it. So I’m going to try anyway. In case it helps. Because there’s a whole lot I don’t understand, but one thing I do know is that you’d want me to get better and to move on if I could. You were annoyingly unselfish that way.

You threw down your pen, a shaky exhale escaping your lungs with an urgency, like you’d been holding it for too long. Maybe you had been. It felt as though every word you wrote only made it to the paper by being ripped free from your heart. It hurts. It’s stupid, senseless. A letter written by you, for you, addressed to a man who will never read it. It doesn’t matter. But it still manages to fucking hurt. 

You clench your jaw, pick up your pen again. 

But I don’t know how to move on, Sam. I don’t know how to let you go. It shouldn’t be this hard. You’ve been gone so long that I…

You took a sharp breath, eyes burning, as you forced out the words.

I sometimes forget to miss you. And I feel like I must be the worst person alive every time. Because you deserve more than that. You deserve every tear I can shed, every second of every sleepless hour, every stolen breath, every pound of grief I can shoulder. You deserve everything. And I get so mixed up in my head about it, how I can go so long sometimes without remembering you’re really gone and then get dragged under again like I’ve just lost you for the very first time. It doesn’t make sense. I wish I could make it make sense. I wish you were here to explain it to me. I wish you were here. 

You scrubbed your hands over your face, pushed yourself restlessly to your feet. 

One lap of your apartment. 

Deep breath. 

A second lap. 

You grabbed your pen and notebook from the desk, flopped down on your bed with them, staring blankly at the small jewelry dish on your nightstand for several minutes. A leather bracelet, the name of a town you’d never been to artfully etched on the surface. A delicate chain with a small gold charm in the shape of a wing. A watch, way too bulky for your own wrist, that you’d insisted on wearing every day for almost a year. An Idaho state quarter dated 2007. 

Do you remember the night we met? In that dive bar down the street from my old apartment. It was as far from the height of romance as you could possibly get, but you made it work for you anyway. You and Steve and Natasha were sitting in the back booth, a few steps from the jukebox thats simple existence charmed me to pieces.

I remember how disappointed I was when my pockets came up short. I’m not sure whether it was my proximity or my colorful words that first drew your attention. But there you were. My knight in soft leather with a hand full of quarters shining red from the neon beer sign over your shoulder.

“How much you short by?” 

“Fifty cents,” you answered with a rueful laugh, eyes flickering between his handsome face and the handful of change. 

“Well, I happen to have fifty cents, and I’m happy to give it to you if I get veto power on your song choice.”

The corner of your mouth drifted up into a half smile despite your best efforts at his mildly flirtatious but matter-of-fact tone.

“I don’t take gifts with strings attached,” you said challengingly.  

“Alright, alright. Worth a shot. Can I at least stick around to see what you pick?”

The compromise we came up with: you picked a letter, I picked a number. And I don’t think it was a test exactly, but when I picked the Marvin Gaye song, the way your eyes lit up and the smile you gave me left no doubt that I’d passed with flying colors.

And I remember being so instantly enamored with you, with that beautiful smile and those eyes that promised a safe kind of trouble, that I stopped noticing anything else. My best friend’s song request blasting through the speakers, the sticky floors, the taste of the tequila sunrise you bought me with a promise that there would be no strings attached. And there weren’t any, of course. But I remember wishing there would be if it meant a chance of seeing you again.

And I remember the way I made my move on you, when you pressed two more quarters into my hand so I could pick my own song without interference. I remember you hooking your finger on the back belt loop of my jeans so we wouldn’t get separated on our way back to the jukebox and the way I was glad you were behind me so you couldn't see how much that made me smile. 

You barely hesitated, keying in your selection as soon as the quarters rattled home. You’d seen the song the first time, while Sam had been examining the catalog. 

It started only a few seconds later, and you turned with a satisfied little smile, watching Sam as he tilted his head, squinting slightly as he tried to identify the opening notes. 

When the first line hit, that smile was back, wide and charming and playful. 

“The night we met I knew I needed you so.”

“Okay,” he laughed, taking a half step closer, leaning his shoulder against the wall right beside you. “Hittin on me now, huh?” 

“Presumptuous,” you said mildly, not moving away. “Maybe I’m just very passionate about the Dirty Dancing soundtrack.” 

“That’s still sounding like a line to me.”

You shrugged, pushing off the wall with a teasing smile. It put you much closer, your faces only inches apart. 

“You planning on doing something about it?”

I was bolder that night than I ever had been. You had that effect on me. Made me brave, confident. Joyful. You made me so fucking happy, Sam. Right from the beginning. I was never as unapologetically and ecstatically myself as when I was with you. I don’t know how to do that without you, how to be that person again. I don’t know if I ever can. I miss her too. The version of me who walked through life beside you, who could call you anytime just to hear your voice. Who could hear “Be My Baby” and come running, follow the sound to where you were waiting with your phone held up and a goofy little grin that felt like it was all mine, get bundled up in your arms and plied with kisses until I was breathless and giggling. 

Now it just hurts. I can’t bring myself to delete the song from my playlists, but every time it comes on, I can’t help but cry. And now when I’m breathless, it’s not in that fun, giddy way. It’s more dangerous. Like choking. Like drowning. And I’m so tired, Sam. I want to stop. I want to keep all the memories I have of you, the sound of your laugh, the smell of your skin, the way my hand fit in yours. But I don’t want this pain. And I’m not sure anymore if I can have one without the other. That terrifies me.

So I guess what all this means is that I’m trying to let you go, and it’s not supposed to be against my will, but that’s how it feels anyway. I’m scared of letting you go the way I’m scared of almost everything these days. 

What if I forget you? What if I don’t? I honestly can’t tell you what would feel worse. But no matter what… 

You know I will adore you till eternity. 

Even when you’re not here to sing it with me. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. 

I love you.

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

Sound off! Who's not dead?

Would love to hear your thoughts, my loves. This story is truly a living organism with drastically changing drafts.

Tags: @shifutheshihtzu @internalbullshit @lilasiannerd-blog @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @iwillbeinmynest @scotlandasshole @netflixa @hardcorehippos @singingprincessstudent @sophiealiice @blue1928 @tinuviel015 @a-book-pressed-rose @bbparker @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @feelmyroarrrr @orangespocks

[pantpisser9000]

Combined together, Chapter 3: Scientist & Medic

Shellington’s finals were next week. So, obviously, he was studying. A lot. Downing another coffee, black, (despite the fact that he actually enjoyed having an overabundance of cream and milk in it) because he needed to stay awake for this. He reviewed his notes again, skimming them over, then jotting down the answer to that next question. His handwriting was messy, and barely legible. At least he could read it. He was lucky that his mother had taught him and Pearl how to read and write so young, he knew a lot of sea creatures didn’t do that. 

He had lived in that kelp forest for a while. It’d been a hot minute since he’d been, though, since he was staying at his college dorm. It was honestly unfortunate Pearl couldn’t go to college, unless she wanted those stupid urchins to take over. Shellington sighed–he really wished he could help, given the allergy though? He simply couldn’t. 

Pearl was really his saving grace. She had practically acted as a mother since their real one died, and hell was she suited for it. She had always been overboundingly supportive and had encouraged Shellington to go for his dreams in marine biology in the first place! And he obviously could not let her down, so, here he was. Downing coffee after coffee, staying up to ungodly times, and scraping by to get good grades. Closing the book, he was finished, and he hoped all the effort he’d been putting in this past week would be worth it. 

Actually worth it. He wanted to make discoveries, get out into the world! Sure, he was lucky one of  his professors was really quite wonderful–the guy took them out to the ocean to ‘get a real feel for it’ a few times, but he still wanted to really get out there. Come across a new creature! Re-discover one they had previously thought was extinct! Something besides wandering around (and tripping) tide pools, examining things that while interesting, were nothing new. 

Of course, all sea-creatures fascinated Shellington–while he wasn’t really one for the whole ‘hybrid-research’, as he was more concerned with the actual creatures that were hybridized with humans, all of it was utterly interesting. But, he knew he couldn’t really do that unless he did well in school. So far, most of his grades had been As or Bs, which satisfied him. Occasionally, he wondered if he was good enough. Then he thought of what Pearl would say to that, and he let it go. 

Didn’t mean he didn’t have a panic attack or two, of course. Usually one per month or two. It had been getting slightly worse and a tad more frequent given how he wasn’t around Pearl nearly as much, as she had helped with said attacks whenever they rarely appeared. He was just hoping, once he got an actual job, (that wasn’t just an internship or out-of-class experiment or experience) that he’d be all fine and dandy. Or at the very least he’d be able to deal with his panic attacks by himself. 

He hopped into bed, making sure his phone was set to alarm him 4 times–usually the first two didn’t work, and he just fell back asleep after slapping it off, and the extra one was a precaution at best. He put on his nightcap, closed his eyes, and fell asleep quickly. He was just glad he actually made it to his bed this time. He had a bad habit of falling asleep at his desk, after all. 

The next morning, he awoke to the blaring of his alarm, and he shut it off, falling back asleep, turning over. “5 more minutes, mom…” he mumbled, and another alarm went off a minute or two later. He shut that one off too, groaning. Finally, at the third alarm, he got out of bed, canceling the fourth one before it went off, too. He slipped on his backpack, quickly surveyed to make sure he had everything, and walked out of his tiny dorm. 

He went to class, and surprisingly, there was someone there who he didn’t recognize. He surveyed it was a clearly older man, given the wrinkles and the lack of hair ontop of his head. He reminded Shellington of the monopoly man–with the mustache and monocle. He sat down, placing his bag down. Once class started–the man began speaking. 

“Hello, my name is Professor Inkling.” he stated, gesturing to himself. “I have come to this college because, well, I am starting a sort of… not company, but expedition. It’s a long-term job, though. And I need a marine biologist.” he said, and Shellington blinked, this was a little surprising. Another student raised her hand–Shellington couldn’t really recall her name, something like Rhubarb or Regina, though. Started with R, at least. “What kinda expedition is it? Set in one place or moving around?” she asked, and Inkling smiled. 

“I’m glad you asked….” he motioned for her to give her name, but she didn’t. At least until she realized people were looking at her. “Oh, uh, Ruby.” she replied hastily, and the Professor continued, “I’m glad you asked, Ruby. You see, if you want to join this, it’s a project that focuses on.. Well, the slogan Captain Barnacles came up with was ‘Explore, Rescue, Protect’. It’s about those three things, all while living underwater in a submarine. As a marine biologist, you’ll be able to experiment and study quite a lot, as well as providing information about the creatures the people down there are hybridized with.” 

Shellington was in awe–this idea sounded wonderful! And exactly what he had wanted. Being able to have access to equipment and tell everyone about creatures was exactly what he wanted to do–and he was helping the ocean! It was perfect for him. He’d feel bad about leaving Pearl, but he technically already had, for college. Plus, he was certain he’d be able to visit, given how she lived in the kelp forest, and he could say he was studying it. 

He was excited. “If you’re interested, please approach me after class. I’ll be helping out as an assistant until your graduation, to get to know you all, after graduation I’ll start some interviews.” he said, and Shellington knew exactly this was what he wanted to do–he needed to prepare! But, not right now, as the usual professor had come back into the room and had begun speaking already. He began to jot down note after note, even though his thoughts were mainly consumed by what Inkling had said. 

After class, he immediately approached Inkling. He was a little surprised only one other person did as well, someone who he wasn’t even sure what the first letter of their name was. But then he thought about it–people probably didn’t want to leave their families, their lives to live in a random old professor’s submarine, even if it presented wonderful research opportunities. Shellington was somewhat happy that he wouldn’t have too much competition, though. Hopefully he could impress the Professor enough to let him on the ship. 

The other person in front of him left after a quick chat, so now it was the part-sea-otter’s turn. “Hello,” the Professor greeted, and Shellington, sweaty palms pressed together, greeted him back. “Hello, Professor- my name’s Shellington.” he said, and Inkling held out a hand. “Wonderful to meet you, Shellington.” Shellington smiled, before realizing the professor was expecting him to shake his hand, and he shook it quickly. The Professor seemed a little amused, but didn’t say anything about it. “I- I know you’re not doing interviews yet, but I just wanna say I really want to join your expedition!” he enthusiastically clamored. “I’m certainly glad you’re so excited”, the Professor said, and Shellington wasn’t really completely sure if he meant it sarcastically or not, he took it as a compliment, though. He smiled, nodded, and walked out of the room, and he just hoped he didn’t screw that up. He didn’t think he did–he was showing he was passionate, right? On the other hand, (or paw) Inkling could consider that a bad thing or even just Shellington trying to suck up to him, which was not his intent. 

He decided to not think of it any longer, instead prompting to go to a little cafe nearby–he figured he could hopefully get some work done there. Sitting down, he pulled his computer out of his backpack, turned it on, grabbed his notes, and got to work. He ordered a coffee–complete with all of the whipped cream and sprinkles he could muster, and to the point where it probably couldn’t even be considered coffee–, and jot down some notes. The cafe was practically full, there weren't really any one-person seats left. It made sense, it was popular for students given the obnoxiously cheap prices and its close proximity to the college. 

Shellington didn’t notice the girl who was confusedly wandering around, clearly unaware what a hotspot this place was. He did notice when she approached. “Hey, so sorry, but.. Do you mind if I sit here?” she asked, and Shellington blinked–he was surprised she approached him of all people. “N-No, not at all.” he flushed at the stutter. He wasn’t one to do that most of the time, so it caught him a little off guard too. Probably since she was pretty sudden, at least to Shellington himself. He looked a little closer at the girl–braids looped, almost resembling ears, a pink and yellow clip on her curtain-bang esc hair, (but cornrows) tan-to-dark skin–he didn’t even remotely recognize her. “I’ve never seen you on campus before,” he said, and she laughed a little. 

“Oh, probably because I don’t go here. I’m actually a flight attendant–at least for the next two weeks–and I’m just staying here until tomorrow.” Shellington had a feeling there was a tad more explanation, but he didn’t press. “Wait, next two weeks?” he questioned. “Yup. It’s my two weeks notice, as I got a better job. They’ve been having me on flights at least once per day-yesterday I had two.” she laughed a little, though Shellington didn’t really get the joke. 

“Ohh, I see.” he simply said, nodding. “I’m just studying marine biology at the campus here–it’s really quite fascinating, I always had an interest in it.” he told her, and she blinked. “Marine Biology? Oh, that’s why.. Okay, that makes sense. Well, I wish you luck with all of that.” Shellington smiled. “I’m graduating super soon, as well. I’m just hoping to land this one job, there aren’t many other candidates, at least to my knowledge, so I think I have a good chance.” he said, and then asked the girl something again. “Well, I have two questions to you; one, what’s your name?” he asked, and she responded, “Dashi. Yours?” 

“Shellington.” 

“That’s a nice name. What’s your second question?”

Wow, straight to the point. Shellington thought. 

“What’s your new job, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’m not supposed to talk too much about it, but my role is IT work, and photography.” 

“Woah, you take pictures? If you don’t mind, can I see?” he asked. 

“Sure!” 

Dashi pulled some things out of her little backpack, spreading them out in front of Shellington. “Jumping jellyfish! You’re so talented!” he exclaimed, and Dashi looked at him a little strangely. “Jumping… Jellyfish?” she asked, and Shellington elaborated quickly. “Ah, it’s a- what’s it called, exclamation? Something my sister came up with a while ago. We both say it.” he explained, and Dashi nodded. “Is she a marine biologist, too?” she inquired, and Shellington shook his head. 

“No, no. Not specifically–she just kinda considers herself a ‘scientist’ in general. But, uh, we’re both part sea otter. Lived in, slash near, a kelp forest for a while. So, we saw jellyfish, and eventually… she came up with that, I caught on, and the rest is history.” he finished, and Dashi nodded. “I’m assuming she’s an older sister? I have a younger one.” 

Shellington nodded. “Yup. Not by much, though. Certainly not my twin, though, even if we get mistaken for such a lot.” “Oh, that never happens with me and Koshi–she’s quite a bit younger than me, and we don’t look too alike.” she said. Shellington took a sip out of his drink, “What’d you get?” Dashi asked, and Shellington looked up from his work. This conversation is still going? Oops. “It’s.. pretty much just a milkshake with coffee. I wanted something sweeter because I don’t need to drown myself in black coffee out of drowsiness at the moment.” he explained, and Dashi nodded. 

“I just got hot cocoa. Never really been one for coffee, I suppose.” she said, shrugging.. “Very unrelated,” Shellington started, “and this is incredibly sudden and I expect if you don’t have the time, but.. Would… well, I have a project, and I need pictures. I’m going to the kelp forest, adn while I was planning on getting older pictures, it’d be nice to get newer ones as well. Compare and contrast, I suppose. And, again, I don’t expect you to bu-” 

Dashi interrupted him. “I’ll do it. When are you going over?” she asked, and Shellington blinked. He honestly wasn’t really expecting her to accept, though it was certainly very very welcome. “Well, the plan was around seven, but I could go an hour or two if that works better for you.” he said, and Dashi nodded. “I can make seven work.” she said, nodding to herself. “I’ve got some stuff to do before then, though, gotta go soon to work on some training stuff. So, where should we meet?” she asked, and Shellington thought to himself. “The library on campus. I can’t exactly expect you to know where the kelp forest is, after all.” Dashi nodded. “Sounds good. See you then!” she said, standing up and waving goodbye to him. Shellington was just happy he’d be able to improve the quality of his project–it’d really be wonderful. Deciding that he was going to work on his project a little more before his next class. He just felt like working on it in the cafe, for now, as he didn’t want to move all his stuff when he was already sketching. 

He wanted to get this assignment done, after all. He wanted to draw–he’d always enjoyed sketching (full) sea creatures, even if he couldn’t draw much else. Even if most sea creatures stayed in primarily human/almost mermaid ish forms. Never could draw people, or mechanics all too well. He could make a drawing look like most land animals, it always looked a little off though. Especially since at this moment, practically all land animals were almost entirely human, most of the time, so it was hard to get references. Nevertheless, he finished within an hour or two, and pulled out his little notepad/sketchbook. 

Sketching practically any animal he could think of for another 15 or 40 minutes, (he couldn’t keep track of time all that well, and when he checked it, it had actually been 37 minutes. Huh.) he eventually decided to pack up and leave. He’d been there a while, and his next class was starting in about a hour Until then, he decided that going to the library to pass the time–he’d set a timer on his phone, so that way he wouldn’t be late. Hopefully. 

Shuffling his backpack on his shoulders, tossing the remains of his drink in the trash, and walking to the library, he situated himself with a nonfiction book about the migration patterns of orcas. It was an older book, given how it was full orcas instead of hybridized ones, but that was part of the appeal. It was interesting to see the difference before and after the hybridization. Most orcas nowadays were again, akin to mermaids. Orca tail, more humanoid torso and head, though some opted for having fins for arms and all of them still had sharp, sharp teeth. Could still easily rip and tear, and obviously, that wasn’t really their fault. Circle of life and all that. 

Of course, that was a lot less normalized above the surface, as artificial meat was pretty popular. It wasn’t seen as bad below–well, besides for the predators next meal–as that was how it was. If a sea creature wasn’t content staying in the ocean, they could train themselves to become more human and go on land, instead. People, well more so companies, liked the cheap labor they provided, as well as help with all of the pools and other water-related components. Most sea creatures, after a long while of being used to being practically fully human, were able to handle fresh water for short periods of time. 

Shellington finished the book quickly. It was fascinating, of course, but it was basically a review. He knew all of this. In fact, he probably knew everything from the marine biology section–he’d been practically obsessed with marine biology for a long time. He looked at the alarm–two minutes left. He decided to just close it and walk over earlier, until he realized he had not eaten Breakfast nor lunch. Walking into a fast food place, he ordered some hash browns, sprinted out, hashbrown in his mouth (you know those scenes where it's like an anime girl with toast in her mouth? Imagine that with Shellington and hash browns.) as he silently ate them outside the door to the class, tossed the container in the trash can, and walked into the room. He wasn’t late, at least. 

Taking a seat, he got ready to ‘learn’ more information he already knew. 

— 

After class, he was able to talk a little to Inkling, which made him happy. “My project’s on kelp, urchins, and since I'm part sea otter, us.” he told Inkling, showing Inkling the slides he had prepared. “Do you think I should change anything? I think it’s good, but I'm not quite sure. Of course, it’s not done, though.” he asked, and Inkling looked impressed. “It’s utterly brilliant–you’re very talented, Shellington. You clearly know what you’re talking about, as well. I’m very excited to see this project finished, when you present it.” he told Shellington, and he felt his cheeks get a little pink. He wasn’t used to being complemented by anyone, except Pearl and when she was around, his mother. 

“Ah, thank you, Professor. I’m excited, too.” he said, playing with his hands. Habit, of sorts. “Of course, Shellington. I am being honest, you know.” and after that, the Professor rolled away, and Shellington smiled, getting back to work. He was going to go to the kelp forest later that day, ask Pearl for some pictures or for the file or something, and let Dashi take some new ones. 

Walking to the library, arriving at 6:58. Dashi arrived at the dot at 7:00pm exactly. “Hey, Shellington. I’m ready–I have my wetsuit on under this, and I brought my camera. It’s waterproof, don’t worry.” Shellington nodded, adjusting his leather satchel. It was falling apart, a little, but he didn’t want to bring his backpack for school. This was.. A little more.. Not expendable, it was special to him, (and he actually preferred it over said backpack, it just couldn’t hold all of his school supplies, especially not his computer.) just if it took a dip in the water or just a little scratched up, it’d be okay. 

Eventually they arrived, sand sinking a little under his and Dashi’s feet.

Shellington did wish the satchel was waterproof, though. He decided to just put it under a rock, for safekeeping. He dipped his feet in the water, slowly wading in, until the water was up to his waist. He looked at his hands, now his fingers connected by webbing, and he had no reason to not assume his feet were the same. Feeling the swishing water around him, he felt the fur sprout out of his legs, and a tail swishing around behind him. “Dashi, do you mind staying up here for now?” he asked, and Dashi shook her head. “I wanted to take some pictures of the beach itself, anyways.” Shellington nodded. Diving down, looking for Pearl, his eyes adjusted quickly to the salty water, and he knew his ears were now more on the sides of his head rather than where they usually would be. He sniffed the water, before circling back upwards and popping out on the surface of the water, his head above. 

Looking out over the vast sea of kelp, he didn’t see her. He knew he’d have to search for a while, given how easy it was to hide in the forest. But he also could just wait and see until he saw her head poke out from under the water. It did feel nice to be back in the water, though, so he also wanted to just search around underwater. Waiting for a moment, he dove back in, weaving his way through the kelp, until he saw a brown tail and followed it up, and soon, he was face-to-face with his favorite person. 

His sister. “Pearl!” he exclaimed, and she, back, “Shellington?” she said, confusion enthralling her. “Yes, sudden visit, I know.” he explained, and Pearl motioned over to a rock. “Let’s sit.” she suggested, and Shellington nodded as they swam over. 

Pearl didn’t look too different. She still had the yellow headband–it was her favorite color, after all–-and her hair was still a short bob, and her sea otter ears, tail, and her webbed hands were prominent. It made sense, she was in the forest a lot of the time. Besides, when she went to the surface to study briefly–she did it often, but she never left the forest unattended for too long. Didn’t want to let those pesky urchins take over, after all. 

Shellington felt a wave of guilt wash over him–she was the only one taking care of the forest, and he couldn’t. Pearl seemed to tell, though, and when they clamored onto the rock, she put her hand on his shoulder. “Hey. I know what you’re thinking–don’t.” she demanded, and Shellington blinked in surprise, but he supposed his sister did know him well, and he knew her very well. It shouldn’t be a surprise that she’d be able to tell when guilt came over him, especially since it had happened a lot in their youth. 

He wished he could have kids, but he couldn’t risk spreading that annoying allergy to them. At the same time, he wasn’t sure if he was exactly fit for being a father, plus, he didn’t have a partner. Nor boyfriend or girlfriend, just nothing. He hoped Pearl found someone, she didn’t mind being alone.. She deserved someone, if she wanted someone. Shellington knew not everyone was interested in romance or.. More. He knew he was, he’d seen a cute boy or girl a few times. 

“So, why’d you come?” Pearl asked, and Shellington snapped out of his barrage of thoughts. It was a bad habit, going on tangents inside his mind and forgetting anyone else was there. “Oh! Well, I’m working on a big, final project for college, and we’re… well, it’s supposed to be about something we’ve learned and to show some personal experiences if possible, and I figured.. Food chain stuff, you know? But, uh, I was wondering if you had any pictures of us when we were younger? Oh, and, uh, do you mind my friend that I met just earlier taking some of us? She’s on the beach right now.” Well, at least he had gotten the real question out at the end. 

Pearl nodded. “Follow me, Shell. I’ll show you where the older ones are.” she said, tilting her head to motion to the water, and Shellington nodded. She dove in, and Shellington followed suit soon after. They weaved through the murky kelp, until they arrived at the beach, the pristine sand practically glistening. Shellington knew exactly where they were going– the cave. 

Sea otters weren’t really particularly known to hide stuff away, (that was more of a small, land-tree mammal thing, squirrels did it a lot) Pearl and Shellington did, though. Well, it was more safe-keeping, because even though when they were younger they just stayed in or at least near the kelp forest, they needed somewhere.. Drier to keep their stuff. Like clothes, and in this case, photos. Technically, they had a waterproof camera and photos, but it wasn’t good. Most photos came out grainy and bad–so, they tried to take advantage of a regular camera, with non-water proof photos as much as they could. 

Plus, they needed somewhere to just keep things. Couldn’t exactly keep everything on their person, after all. It’d be quite annoying if they did. They sauntered over to the small cave, and soon they were consumed by dimness. The light was still visible from outside, and Pearl pushed away a rock in front of one of the ‘drawers’, and pulled out some of the pictures. “I think I have some on my phone, too. I’ll send those to you.” she said, and Shellington smiled. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed, and Pearl smiled softly too. 

“And, I also came here because, you know, I wanted to sleep how we used to again. Because, um, while I’m not even a candidate, there’s.. This job.” Pearl’s ears perked up. “A job..? Elaborate, Shell” she requested, and he nodded. “Yes, I will, but for the other thing?” 

Pearl grinned. “Of course ! I wouldn’t say no to my baby brother on an offer like that.” she said, ruffling his hair. Shellington flushed a little. “The job, though?” she asked again, and Shellington nodded. “Oh right yes that.. Basically, a guy, his name is Professor Inkling, came over to my college, because he’s looking for a marine biologist for his expedition! It’s really quite wonderful. We’d be able to travel all across the 5 oceans! And, only me and one other person wanted to do it, so I think.. I might get in. Hopefully.” “So, you’d be leaving Scotland?” she asked, and Shellington blinked. “Oh, um, yes. Is that alright?” he asked, and Pearl laughed. “You’re a grown man. Of course it’s alright, even if I’ll miss you.” she said, and Shellington quickly clarified, “Since you’re in the kelp forest, most of the time, though, and that’s obviously in the ocean, I’m certain I could visit more than an average crew member, on the excuse of.. Checking up on the kelp, I suppose?” he said, and Pearl nodded. “Already thinking ahead.” she commented, and Shellington chuckled. 

“It’ll be getting dark soon. Wanna go take those pictures and then out into the forest, once more?” she requested, and Shellington giddily nodded. “Yes, that’s wonderful. Especially since.. If I do get accepted, which I hope I do… I might not be able to for a long time.” he said.

They walked over to Dashi, who waved. “Hello Shellington… and Shellington’s sister.” she said, unsure of Pearl’s name. “Pearl.” she responded to Dashi’s indirect question, and Dashi smiled. “That’s a pretty name. Now, what were you thinking about for the pictures, Shellington?” she asked, and Shellington thought for a moment. “Well, once of me and Pearl standing in front of the forest, probably…and, um, one of the kelp forest underwater, and maybe one of those two combined? And, if you can, one of us in the sleeping position.” Dashi nodded. 

“Sounds good. The non-water one will be easiest to do first, so can you guys stand next to each other…” she pointed to an area near the water, but not in it. Shellington and Pearl nodded, walking over. Shellington didn’t really know what to do with his hands, so he just clasped them together, placing them in front of his hip area. Pearl had one hand on one hip,and was posing a lot better than Shellington himself. Dashi snapped a picture or two, before giving them a thumbs up. “These are great!” she praised. She took off her sweater and skirt, showing the wetsuit underneath. Pearl had looked a tad scared when she had done it without warning, but was obviously relieved when the wetsuit was shown. “Wait, Dashi. Before we get in the water, lemme give you my email so you can send me the pictures.” 

“Oh, yes, good idea.” Dashi agreed, and she wrote it down on a piece of scrap paper that had been in her skirt. “Now, let’s get in.” she said, and both Shellington and Pearl nodded. Dashi carefully waded into the water, till she was up to her shoulders. “Pose as quick as you can, I can’t hold my breath as long as you guys.” she said, and the siblings gave her thumbs up, before diving down. 

Dashi dipped under the surface, taking a picture of the kelp by itself and then motioning for Shellington and Pearl to come over, which they did, and Dashi was thankful. She wasn’t a sea creature like them, after all. “Looks good, you two!

It was about 15 minutes later when the sun began to set, and Shellington grasped onto a piece of kelp, and onto his sister’s hand, and they floated on their backs together, water beneath them, and it was really nice, wasn’t it? He heard the camera shutter of Dashi taking a picture, (and her swimming away) as Shellington drifted off. 

He woke up to Pearl shaking him. “Hey, Shellington,” she whispered, and Shellington groaned, “Five more minutes..” he grumbled, still firmly attached to the kelp and his sister’s hand. “C’mon. I don’t know when your school starts. You probably have to go soon.” she said, and Shellington responded with a groan. Pearl wrestled the kelp out of his grip, and dunked him in water. He still, somehow, didn’t wake up. (At least not properly. Sleepy guy.) 

Shellington was a heavy sleeper, after all. She dragged him behind her through the water plants, weaving through carefully. Didn’t want him (or herself) to be caught in it, after all. Eventually, she dragged him onto the shore, where he curled up. “Augh..” he groaned, blinking sleepily. “What.. time is it?” he asked, with a yawn following soon after. “Sunrise. Now, get up, sleepyhead,” she said, and he finally propped himself up. “I’ll go get the stuff you need, and you wake up.” she stated. It wasn’t phrased like a question, at least. 

He watched as his sister walked off to the cave, and he stood up, grumbling, and walked over to the rock, retrieving his leather satchel. Pearl came back with the pictures in her hand, and she chuckled. “Someone woke up properly.” Shellington yawned. “Well, maybe not.” 

Handing the photos to Shellington, they said their goodbyes and Shellington was off, putting the photos in his bag. Pearl had said she’d send some pictures to him over text, too, (and Dashi sending the more recent ones over email) so that was nice. He hoped, (and was fairly certain) that it’d be enough for his project, and to impress the Professor. 

He worked tirelessly on the project for the rest of the week, Inkling, supervising him briefly, complimenting him on his work. If Shellington thought more highly of himself, he would’ve thought that he was the Professor’s favorite.  And soon, it was time to present–the other projects had passion driven in them, this wasn’t really a class you took if you didn’t have a knack or passion for marine biology, so it made sense. They were all pretty wonderful–there was actually a hermit-crab student, who was really passionate and told everyone about their large family, which was sweet. 

That one Ruby girl spoke about sharks in full, and described symbiotic relationships between sharks and remoras in detail. Another student talked extensively about orcas and dolphins, but clearly had vast knowledge in many other areas of marine biology. And finally, it was Shellington’s turn. 

He went up to the front of the class, clearing his throat. “Hello. My name is Shellington, and my project is about.. A lot of things” he clicked to the next slide. “So here you can see me and my sister, Pearl.” he continued on with his presentation smoothly–he was happy nothing went wrong. Maybe it was his passion behind the topic or the fact that the rest of the students were respectful, or maybe the wanting to impress the Professor, he wasn’t sure. All he knew is that it went seamlessly. 

A few presentations later, (all of them were wonderful, even if a few clearly had more time behind them then others) and the day was over. And tomorrow was finals. He knew he had a lot of preparation, and as he was heading out of the room, Inkling stopped him. “Shellington that was absolutely brilliant!” he then leaned in closer, whispering, “and don’t tell the others, but I think yours was best by far.” he praised, and Shellington smiled. “T-thank you Professor..” he didn’t usually stutter. 

Inkling waved him goodbye then, and Shellington decided to go back to that cafe. He knew he wouldn’t see Dashi again, but it was a good study spot! Sitting down after ordering his regular milkshake-esc order, he pulled out his computer. It was time to goddamn study. 

—

Finals had been stressful, obviously, though Shellington had gotten through them, and finally, it was his graduation. His only family, being Pearl, was in the audience. He wished his mother had been able to see it. Her son graduated from college, to help out the kelp forest she’d raised them both in until she had..disappeared. Somewhere deep in his heart, Shellington may have been secretly wishing that she’d somehow come, despite the odds.

Though he knew he’d never see her again, so he had shoved that back deep down for him to hopefully never deal with again. His mom was gone, and he knew the fact well. Pearl had congratulated him and brought him a handmade gift out of kelp–a little charm of sorts. He may’ve almost teared up a little at the gift. Inkling congratulated him, and handed him a nicely sealed envelope which he instructed to, “Look at later”, which Shellington had nodded to. 

And that era of his life was over, now. He thought he’d feel different, but he really didn’t. He was still Shellington, after all. Well, now Dr.Shellington. Doctor Shellington Sea-otter. It was a bit of a mouthful, he’d definitely just tell people to call him “just Shellington”, even if his name plainly was still a little much by itself.

When he got to his dorm, (as he had obeyed what the Professor had told him) he opened up the envelope. Inside was a letter. His handwriting is wonderful.. Shellington thought silently, and he began to read it.

Dear Shellington, 

Please meet me at the Campus Library at 3pm Tomorrow (Saturday). I have many things I would like to discuss with you, concerning the job. 

Professor Inkling

It was shorter than Shellington was expecting–he was unsure why Inkling wouldn’t just tell him this, but he didn’t think about it much. He was wiped out from the day though, opting to sleep for as long as he could muster, turning off his alarms. He put one for 2:30 pm, just in case but he doubted he’d need it. 

Flopping onto his bed, tucking his head into his nightcap and curling up underneath the covers, he fell asleep swiftly. That next day, he woke up at noon. He was sure there would be a curfew or something on the submarine, if he got accepted, so he decided to cherish his sleeping-in time for as long as he possibly could. Rolling over in his bed, he decided he needed to look… presentable. Taking off his nightcap, he looked in the mirror–his brown, almost shoulder-length hair. 

It was messy as hell. He grabbed his dollar-store plastic comb, that while he barely used, would come in handy now. Running it through his hair–and oh, a knot. He untangled it, combed through, and oh no, a knot. Repeat. 

Thirty or so minutes later.. His hair was nicer. He pulled on a dark green checkered sweater vest–it was his favorite color, after all. He had those pirate-esc white sleeves underneath, and sweatpants. He thought he looked nice enough, and he then just sat down, pulled out his computer, deciding on reading some good old fashioned studies on various topics. 

And another 2 hours later, he realized it was 2:30–thirty minutes before he was supposed to meet up with Inkling! Walking out, phone in pocket and deciding to stop for some milkshake-ified-coffee, he arrived only a minute late! He saw Inkling rolled up next to a table, and he walked over, pulling up a chair. “Hello, Professor! So sorry if I’m late.” he felt it was necessary to apologize, even if he was only one minute late. 

“No need to apologize, Shellington. Now, it’s time for the interview.” he said, and Shellington nodded. He had to do good. This was his make-or-break moment, he needed to do well. “So, Shellington, I always like to get to know a little about the people I might hire. So, family, friends, anything you’re welcome to talk about.” 

Shellington thought for a moment. “Well, I.. you probably saw this in the presentation, but I have an older sister named Pearl, and we lived in the kelp forest with her for a while. I left to go to college, but I visit Pearl sometimes. I um.. Don’t really know anyone besides Pearl.” Inkling nodded. “I see. Experience?” he asked. 

“Well, college and all of that, and I’ve done an internship or two, went on some very small explorations and I’ve spent some time around tide pools. Oh, and I lived in the ocean for the first 16 or so years of my life, so, there’s that.” 

Inkling put the sheet that he had all of his questions on down. “Shellington–I’m supposed to go through all of this, but I really think.. You’re accepted.” he said, and Shellington lit up. “Really? Jumping Jellyfish, this is absolutely wonderful, oh-” he rambled silently to himself, and Inkling chuckled. “The flight’s next week. I’d hope you can sort everything outs during that time.” he said, and Shellington nodded. “Yes, I’m sure– I can do that, yes.” he said, giving him a thumbs up. 

Shellington was just excited to finally get to do exactly what he wanted to, to the t. 

Peso finished bandaging another creature’s arm, wrapping it quickly. He was often assigned to just wrap bandages, given how he was by far the speediest at it, and therefore he was basically put in an assembly line of sorts but with bandaging. Well, when the hospital was busy, that was. Which, while it wouldn’t be considered busy for a bigger hospital, it was a tad small. And that was usually fine, especially since there weren’t many jobs in the arctic besides just ‘hunting and gathering’, ‘trader’, and ‘medic’, so they had a decent amount of employees, sometimes it got too overcrowded. And very overwhelming. Peso would be lying if he said he didn’t have a panic attack or two or three or four or maybe just around 67 times because of the overcrowding. ( it was a lot now that Peso was thinking about it.) 

But he loved helping people, and he thought he was decent enough at it. He was trained professionally, and while he went through more minimal med school then what would usually be required, he was certainly qualified for most anything. Sure, he would certainly at least need help during a surgery, that wasn’t his expertise though. He could. He likely wouldn’t though. 

The staff had taken notice of these things. Peso hoped it wouldn’t jeopardize his job–he really didn’t know what to do if he got fired. It was very very stressful, yes, though it was his only source of income. Yes, life in the arctic was different then most of the rest of the mainland, with it being less ‘advanced’ or ‘capitalist’ as some would say. Most people had family homes or built their own, (there was the space, after all.) and while they got charged minimal taxes, any traders certainly wanted money for their goods. 

Until, eventually, it was the end of his shift and he had finished bandaging up the last patient. He started gathering his things to head home, before he heard a (albeit grainy-sounding) announcement over the old speakers. “ PESO TO THE FRONT DESK! ” it boomed, and Peso jumped. They didn’t use the speakers often, on account of them being low quality, often much too loud, and more hard to understand than over a walkie-talkie. 

He skittered over to the front desk, gulping. “Y-yes?” he asked, and the Penguin at the front desk smiled. Probably because it was his sister, Pinata. “Peso, hi. I think the big boss wants to talk to you, for some reason.” Peso nodded shakily. Please don’t be an announcement of me getting fired he anxiously prayed, walking to the office. The ‘big boss’, (whose real name was Dr… uh, something. Peso couldn’t remember, they usually just called him ‘boss.’) had his own smaller office. He was a doctor, of course, and his great grandmother or something like that had started the place. 

The creaky door slowly opened, and Peso saw the older penguin-hybrid. Black hair (like most penguins) with a few streaks, tannish skin, (again, like most) and was adorning a suit. Peso felt under-professional with his scrubs, despite them being profesional doctor wear. “Peso.” “B-boss.” 

“I think you’d be the best choice.” his boss said, and confusion washed over Peso’s face. “For.. what..?” he questioned. His boss typed something on his computer, before looking back up at Peso. “I think it’d be better if..” please don’t say you’re letting me go.. “You had a different work environment.” HE’S FIRING ME?? Peso panicked internally, but having a breakdown right now wouldn’t help his case. “No, I’m not.. Firing you. Not really, at least. Sit, please.” he requested, and Peso nodded shakily. He hoped it wasn’t too obvious how nervous he was, and he sat down. “You see, we have been sent an email. Pretty much, there’s this expedition a man named Professor Inkling is starting. I’m not completely sure of all the details, but I believe you’d be traveling around the world in a submarine, helping creatures underwater.” 

Peso blinked. “.. I see. Why.. me?” he asked. His boss slacked back in his chair. “Well.. one, like I mentioned, it’d be a better work environment. Sure, you’d be the only actual medic, yes, but it would not be nearly as overcrowded as it is here. You’re also the fastest bandager I know, which only helps since you’re wonderful in many other medical practices. It’d be a bit high pressure, though. And you.. You wouldn’t be living in the arctic, instead on the submarine. And if you don’t end up being chosen, you will have a spot here, no matter what.” 

Peso shrunk into himself. “It really does sound like a g-good cause,” and there his stutter was, “but.. I don’t think I’m the right fit. Wouldn’t someone else here be better?” he inquired, and his boss shook his head. “No, I’ve narrowed it down. Everyone else here is.. They’re not perfect for this. Plus, most of them can handle the intense workflow here without…” he trailed off, and Peso looked away, ashamed. He really wished that wasn’t such a huge problem. “And, I was told that they needed someone who is quick. You’re the fastest we’ve got.” 

That was true. As much as Peso hated bragging, he was, factually, the fastest at bandaging specifically and in a lot of other fields. He couldn’t really deny that. “...I see. I’ll… can I get back to you later?” he asked, and his boss nodded. “You have a week to decide.” he told him, and Peso gave him a shaky “alright”  before waving and leaving. Pinata was still there, it wasn’t quite the end of her shift yet. 

“How’d it go?” she asked, and Peso pursed his lips. “..g-good.” he said. Pinata looked at him, slightly confused and also worried. “Hm. Okay..” she clearly didn’t believe him, though she couldn’t enquire more as Peso left the building, back into the snowscape. 

Trudging home, he walked into his house (more like an igloo almost but whatever), where his mom greeted him. “Peso!” she greeted, waving. Peso waved back, his hand still shaking. “How was work, honey?” she asked, turning her attention back to the stove, where she was frying some non-meat fish. Fake fish, practically. They could be eaten raw, yes, but that wasn’t preferred by most people, and certainly not Peso and his large family. 

Their house was conjoined by another one that held the rest of their family. In Peso’s, it was him, his younger brother Pinto, his older brother Pogo, his sister Pinata, and his mother. In the other, was his Grandma Perdita, Uncle Pepe, Aunt Papita, and Cousin Petina. While the houses were technically connected, they weren’t really treated as the same house. Almost like sharing an apartment, just the people in the apartments were all family. 

Peso answered his mother’s question, then. “.. good, mama. It uh… I’ll talk about it at dinner.” he figured it’d be better to tell everyone all at once. Peso’s mom was a tad confused, and it showed on her face, though she didn’t question it. “Sounds good!” she said, flipping the ‘fish’ over. 

Going to his room, he pulled out his xylophone–it was his only hobby, honestly. Besides bandage-wrapping, though that was less of a hobby and more so just a skill. He practiced until Pinto burst into their shared room. I wonder if I joined I’d get my own room. Peso wondered silently, as Pinto sprinted over to him. Feathers were where ears would be, and feathers were covering his arms and legs. Peso was just surprised he didn’t have a beak or full flippers. “Hi Peso! School was kinda boring, but me and my friends got to slide down the super super big hill!” he exclaimed. Peso blinked. 

“.... the one mom told you not to go on?” he asked, a hint of concern in his voice. Pinto was a tad too young for that. Pinto looked away. “....maybe. Don’t tell mama, please ?” he begged, and Peso sighed. “Okayy, alright.” he begrudgingly agreed, and Pinto pumped his fist in the air, more feathers spurting out, and his hands now flippers and his feet webbed. The webbing and flippers went away when his excitement died down, though. “Mama said dinner’ll be ready soon,” Pinto said, flopping onto his cushy bed. 

“That’s good,” Peso said absentmindedly, now focusing on his playing again. Pinto groaned. “Pesoooooo–play something with me” he begged, and Peso sighed a little. “Didn’t you just say dinner will be ready soon? Read one of your comic books or something, yeah?” he offered, and Pinto rolled his eyes, nevertheless he pulled out one and grouchily read it on the bed. 

Around fifteen minutes later, they were called in. Pinto was the first there, and so his mom awarded him with setting the table, (which he groaned at in response) and then Pogo, then Peso, and finally Pinata. Peso thought maybe something other than this one brand of fake-fish would be good. His mother was a wonderful cook, and she didn’t always cook this, but they ate it a lot. If I went on that expedition then maybe i’d eat something else. He thought briefly, though he scolded himself mentally for the comment. 

He shouldn’t be rude about his mother’s food, after all. “Peso, you said that you wanted to talk how work was with everyone?” his mother questioned, and Peso remembered that he’d said that. Pinata piped in, “Ooh, yes, you were called in by the big boss after all! What happened?” she asked, before popping a piece of fake fish in her mouth. Worry overtook his mother’s face. “ Big boss? Is that just something you call him or..?” Peso nodded, “Yeah, basically.” he told her. “What happened, though?” she asked, and everyone was looking at Peso. He gulped. “Well, um.. He thinks.. I’m the best candidate for this.. Expedition that’s being started by this Professor guy.” 

Pinto lit up. “Expedition? Like an adventure?” he asked, leaning in, and Peso smiled nervously. “..maybe kinda? I’m not quite sure. A-all I know is that I’ll be traveling around the w-world in a submarine, helping creatures who are hurt or sick. That’s all.” he said. Pinata then asked the most logical question, being, “So you’ll be away from home for a while?” she asked, and Peso nodded. “I-I think so. I’m sure I’d be able to visit, of course, but I wouldn’t be home a lot of the time, I think.” he really wasn’t sure about any of this, so part of this was just him speaking from nothing, though it was what he assumed from the nature of the job.

“You gotta do it Peso! A adventure is soo cool!” Pinto chimed in, before his mother said, “If you really want to, hon. I’d.. we’d all miss you, but if it’s what you want to do..” she said, trailing off, and Peso hated seeing her so sad. “I-I’m not quite sure, yet. I want to know more details first.” he said. Pogo finally said, “Of course. That’s logical, like how you always are!” Peso knew he didn’t mean it in a bad way, more so in a good way actually, though even then it still felt like a stab in the chest. His mother and Pinata agreed, while Pinto still clearly wanted Peso to go on it. (He probably wasn’t thinking about how he wouldn’t see Peso in a while if that happened–that info seemed to have went in one ear and out the other.) 

Eventually, the conversation shifted to something else, and then they finished their food and conversation, and then they were off to bed. “Peso,” Pinto mumbled while he brushed his teeth, “You gobba tabe thaf job!” he exclaimed, his words mangled by the toothbrush clogging his mouth. Peso took his out and cleaned it before he responded. “I-I might.” Peso said, and Pinto seemed vaguely satisfied. 

That night, in bed, Pinto surprisingly fell fast asleep. Peso, though, did not. The offer was swarming him, like a bunch of bees that all had conflicting opinions. 

Remember all your damn panic attacks? You slow them down at the hospital, this job will be better!You’ll miss your family. 

You’re growing tired of this place.

You’ll be underwater. What if the submarine’s glass cracks and you drown?

New opportunities. 

New people. New friends, maybe.

You know no one there. 

You’ll be helping hundreds, if not thousands, of people

You’ll be alone.You might make an impact.

You might not.

Imagine all the people who need help. You could help them

You can never save everyone

You’ll miss your friends here. 

What friends?

Do you want to leave your family? Imagine Pinto.

Pinto has friends, he’ll be fine.

What if something happens to him or the rest of your family when you’re not there?

The rest of the hospital is talented, and you’ll likely be able to get there fast. 

What if the submarine’s slow and you aren’t there in your mother’s last moments? Your brothers? Your sister’s?

The submarine will be high-tech. 

You don’t know that.

You’ll ask.

What if you die and your mother isn’t there in your last moments?That’s less important.You’ll be alone. 

You’ll be stopping hundreds of people from receiving that fate. 

What if you die on the first day?

That won’t happen, surely?

Peso tried to stop himself there, but he couldn’t. Surely this submarine was extremely safe. Right? The boss did say that they’d accept him back in an instant, this wasn’t him being fired.. 

What if that’s a lie because he knows you’ll die instantly?

Peso gulped. That.. wasn’t something he could dispute. He knew what he had to do–he couldn’t do this. They’d find someone else who’d–wait, does that mean someone else would be doomed? That’d be a death on his hands, wouldn’t it? Though he doesn’t know if that will happen. It probably wouldn’t, right? Why would the boss want to kill him? 

If he wanted to get rid of him, he could just fire him, but there was always the possibility, right? Why would he want to kill Peso? Again, he could just fire him… Peso would ask him. Not why he wanted to kill him, obviously–the boss would be utterly confused, instead just details about this expedition. Figure out if it’s safe enough, decide everything he could. 

He finally let himself fall asleep, then. 

The next morning, he awoke to Pinto jumping on him, and he yelled, “PINTO-”, who was satisfied that he’d successfully awoken his brother. “You- you could’ve just.. Shook me, or something..” Peso muttered, and Pinto put his hands on his hips triumphantly, “That’s way less fun” he simply said, sliding off of Peso’s bed. It’d be nice to not wake up to your stomach gaining a dent every day. He thought, though he also loved Pinto.. Maybe it’d be nice to not have him around all the time. 

He shook his head–that was terrible, wasn’t it? Though, he’d still see Pinto, and obviously still love him, so… he grit his teeth. Nope, later. Pinto was already out the door into the Kitchen when Peso got up, trudging into the kitchen. He just hoped it wasn’t obvious he hadn’t gotten much sleep. 

His mother didn’t seem to notice him at all with the commotion–Pinto talking rapidly to her, prancing around her practically, (she only really responded with “mhm” and “wow” when appropriate, which Peso did admit he found a little funny) Pogo had already left, and Pinata was looking at her phone, seemingly texting or something. Suddenly, a thought washed over him, They don’t need me here. Wouldn’t it be better if I got out of their hair? He wondered silently, sitting down at the table. 

“Hey Peso.” Pinata said absentmindedly, not bothering to look up. “Hola Pinata.” he responded. They were both silent besides the tapping noises coming from Pinata's phone, and soon food was dished out to them. Pinto was still rambling on about something random, his mother instructing him to, “Not talk while you chew” a few times softly, (which usually worked for a few seconds or a minute until he had to be reminded again) and Peso and Pinata ate silently for the most part. “May I be excused?” Peso requested, and his mother looked up from doting on Pinto, saying, “Go ahead. You.. you don’t have to ask.” she said, which Pinto huffed at, annoyed that Peso didn’t have to ask but he did. Peso got up, heading into the bathroom. Pinto probably wouldn’t be done eating for another few minutes, so he could get ready in peace. He brushed his teeth, put on his scrubs and his overlaying jacket.

Pinto burst in, still annoyed, and began (angrily) brushing his teeth. At least he was being silent, and Peso felt terrible for thinking that. “Bye Pinto, see you later!” Peso said, and Pinto waved weakly, opting to not look at Peso. Was he really that mad? Peso wondered, and his mother handed him lunch as he walked out. Pinata’s shift was later than his, so she wasn’t going to go over quite yet. 

After trudging through the snow and ice, he got to the hospital, walking in. Immediately, the person at the front desk, (she covered the night/early morning, while Pinata covered the rest of the day) asked him something. “Doctor Peso Guin, right?” she asked, and Peso blinked, nodding. “Y-yes.” he wasn’t expecting them to be, well, expecting him. She pointed over to the boss’s door. “Boss wants to see you.” she said, and Peso shakily nodded, walking over and twisting the knob. 

The boss perked up at seeing him. “Peso, wonderful. Now, I’m sure you have many questions, so I managed to get on a video call with the Professor.” he said, and Peso blinked. The OWNER? Immediately panic ran through his head. “W-wonderful.” he stuttered, sitting down. He turned the computer to Peso, and Peso was a little surprised. For some reason, he didn’t expect the founder to resemble the monopoly man. “Hello, Dr Guin, right?” he asked, and Peso nodded. “Just Dr. Peso is fine.” he said, and the Professor nodded. “Sounds good, Dr. Peso. Now, I’m sure you have many questions so.. Fire away!” he said, and Peso cleared his throat. “Right, yes. Um, how is the living situation? I know we’ll be living on the submarine, but what’s that like?” the Professor put a hand to his chin. “Well, the submarine isn’t exactly a..” he put his hands in air quotes, “‘Usual’ submarine. It’s modeled to look like an octopus, just with four arms that have rooms attached. One arm has the activities room attached, another the garden pod, –all of our food will be grown by us–and the other two are separated into two rooms. They’re somewhat large, much more than just a bunk if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

Oh, Peso had been expecting a terrible little bunk bed in all honesty. So hearing he would be getting a full room to himself was promising. “Wow.. that’s–that’s wonderful.” Peso heard himself saying, though he was partially just on ‘autopilot’ as he liked to call it. Sure, he was watching and he was saying things, but it was automatic, almost. “I.. another question I have, is, where will I work?” 

Inkling adjusted his monocle, before saying, “Well, you’ll have an entire medbay. Unfortunately, I do not have pictures, but it’s fairly large. Lots of room. Of course, you’ll go out in the GUPS to do checkups, but–” Peso found himself interrupting. “So sorry, but.. Gups?” he asked. “Oh, apologies. Small submarines, practically.” Peso nodded. “Will I um.. Have to drive?” he asked, and Inkling thought. 

“Well, eventually, likely yes, though not at the beginning. The Captain will be doing most of the steering until you’re properly trained.” Even if the idea of Peso steering made him almost feel a little queasy, the fact he would have training made him feel better, though. He’d.. avoid doing so as long as he could. “I see. Um, not to doubt you or anything but..” he gulped. “How strong is the glass on the submarine?” he questioned, and the Professor thought for a moment before answering. 

“I’m not quite sure exactly the amount of pressure or anything like that, but Tweak–our head engineer–said it could handle being at the bottom of the mariana trench, and then some. As well as it being practically indestructible–it’d be incredulously difficult to even crack.” he said, and that made Peso feel a lot better. He was worried the glass would be like a household’s window–strong enough to keep the cold air out, but could be shattered with a baseball easily. Peso asked one more question, then, “Will I be able to visit my family?” he asked, and Inkling nodded. “Of course! And, the internet is quite good, according to Tweak. She wanted to improve it after our IT worker said they should. So, you can contact them virtually anytime you aren’t busy.” 

That basically sealed the deal for Peso. He could contact them anytime he wanted, besides when he was working? That was wonderful news. “T-that’s wonderful! I’d um.. I do really think I’d like to try for the position.” he said, and Inkling nodded. “Exquisite. Now, we have been sent a lot of clips of you–you’re clearly qualified. If you’d like.. We could likely pick you up once the ship launches in a week or two.” he said, and Peso nodded. “I’d- I’d love that. Yes.”

He was so excited–he was hired! And, most of his worries were drowned away by the Professor’s reassurance. “It’s settled then. See you, then, Dr.Peso.” the Professor said, cutting off the call. Peso looked back at his –now former– boss. “Congratulations, Doctor.” he simply said, closing the laptop. Peso nodded. “You may go to work now.” Peso nodded. He couldn’t exactly abandon his duties because he’d been hired. He’d pack once he got home. 

—

After work, Peso trudged back through the snowy terrain, and walked inside his house. He’d be enjoying all of this before he left. “Ma, I have a huge announcement for dinner.” Peso said, and she looked happy, though was that a hint of sadness in her eyes? Peso didn’t quite know. Physcology wasn’t his field of expertise. Pinto pestered him about it, and Peso just kept on telling him to “wait until dinner” which didn’t stop his insistence. 

Once they had sat down for dinner, they were all expecting Peso. “So, um.. I- you know that job, last night I mentioned?” he asked, and they all nodded. “I’m.. well, I- okay, I accepted it. I’m guaranteed to work there, now.” he said, and Pinto cheered. “Now you’re an adventurer! You better take me on your awesome adventure someday!” his mother looked at Pinto, “Maybe when you’re a little older, sweetie.” she softly said, which Pinto promptly ignored. 

“W-well I’m.. I’m still a medic. Just on a submarine.” Pinto didn’t care, his brother was on a submarine! His tail was wagging like a dog, (Peso honestly didn’t know Penguins did that, but the more you know, right?) and feathers were where ears would usually be.

“Good job,” Pogo commented, clapping a little. Pinata looked impressed too. “I think you’ve outdone yourself, Peso.” she said, agreeing with her twin. His mother looked to be tearing up a little. “I’m.. I’m so happy for you, Peso. Will you be able to call?” she asked, and Peso nodded. “There’s internet on the submarine” he said, which made Pinata’s attention perk up again. “..do you know if they have any open positions?” she asked. Peso guessed by how they were launching soon, they didn’t. “I don’t think so,” he said, laughing a little. 

She sulked a tad at that, and the table burst out in laughter, (she joined in, too) and Peso pushed the thought that said, You’ll miss them so much, is this really the best decision? 

But Peso knew it was, they’d all be fine without him. And he was ecstatic to be helping many many creatures. That night, he went to his room and packed. Pinto helped him, saying that he should bring over one of his comics so he “wouldn’t forget him”, and Peso laughed as he put it in his suitcase, saying, “I don’t think I’ll ever forget you.”

Though, there was one nagging thought he was trying to get rid of. 

What if the crew hates me?

If they did, he’d return. Though, then everyone would be disappointed, right? He’d just.. Not be a yes-man, he had a little more dignity than that, but just.. Stay out of any trouble. There were bound to be fights, of course, though Peso wanted no part in any of them. He wasn’t one to yell, and certainly not anyone to hurt anyone. He didn’t think he could even throw a punch without crying. 

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, 2/18 “Back In The Saddle” (more glorious filler) Part 1

The episode begins with an uninteresting Friday Night Dinner intro that has nothing worth writing about, except we see Richard again, and I feel like I haven't seen Richard in a really long time. (This is a Richard-centric episode, which is fine with me).

They fixed the Tomatos Sign? Say it ain't so!

Oh, the other chalkboard.

I recommend you all look up a woman named Valerie Campbell on TikTok or Instagram. She worked on the show and shares a lot of behind the scenes stories. I can’t seem to find this specific post again, but if you care to dig around yourself, she had a little story about the crew member that actually designed this sign.

I don't remember it being a particularly fascinating story, but if you want to hear the story of Sign Guy, go on and find Valerie.

Thinking about the time Rory took a slice of unbuttered unsyruped French toast on the run like it was a god damn pop tart. You weirdo.

LG: Look at the handwriting on that sign. It's so precise. So determined. It's focused Luke. RG: That's Jess' handwriting.

That tone of suspicion again. Sigh.

You know what, I won't pile on Lorelai too much for this comment, because it was lighthearted and not dripping with passive aggressive sauce for once. You win this round, Gilmore.

Couldn’t have killed you to throw in a “that’s so thoughtful/cute/sweet” or something though.

I love how blasé they are about their notions that either Luke or Jess could have such gorgeous handwriting. Neither of them are marveling even one bit over that skilled graphic design. Sad lack of shock, wonder, and awe.

Lorelai is very much NOT Team Jess and is actively trying to destroy this adorable friendship. Being a Lorelai and Literati supporter at the same time seems like a paradox of sorts? But hey, according to Tumblr, I'm just a big ol woman hater for saying Lorelai is evil. Continue, Lorelai. Lay some old fashioned Dean Lust on us. It's what the people want.

Rory looks thrilled to see ButtZilla.

Drop yourself off a bridge.

Lorelai: Please please please eat with us Dean!

So much said with so little in her tone of voice alone

From left to right: Wetting her pants in excitement to have Dean for breakfast/ thinking about covering his naked body in maple syrup; a man wondering if this will be one of the rarest of days when the Gilmores pay for their food; Hello Darkness My Old Friend; and Buttzilla.

I've got something you can eat, Dum Dum.

JOKES ON YOU BUTTZILLA! JESS WROTE THE SIGN! YOU'RE GONNA EAT AN OMELET THAT YOU ORDERED OFF A SIGN THAT JESS WROTE!

Mind your own business, AssButt. Your necklace is stupid and so are you. Your mother doesn't love you.

"Next time I get you all alone I'm going to give you SUCH a spanking, young man."

Poor put-upon Brad. One day, Brad will rule the world, and the peasants will be sorry. Our usual Chilton crew that consists of Rory, Paris, Madelyn, Louise, Brad, and one rando (some 30 Year Old Archie looking dude) are gearing up for a Business Fair. They have to invent a product appealing to high schoolers. Rory is the CEO, and they have an imaginary 1 million dollars to imaginary market/produce/and distribute it. They also have to find a responsible adult to be their "business advisor". Richard will eventually join them and muck things up. Everyone else's negligent dads are too busy working and Rory's deadbeat dad Crusty is off somewhere trying to impregnate some chick named Sherry and wouldn't know how to Business if his life depended on it, so Richard it is. But this is the 2000s, so surely someone's mother could also have business experience?

Paris and Madelyn suggest Rory's mom, seeing as she "Runs a hotel", but the girls wouldn't know that Rory's mom regularly leaves her shift in the middle of the day to do things like look at coffins. Not a good role model. Joyous filler nonsense.

Rory: LOL yeah I guess. Let’s have someone look at Lorelai’s “books”. The Independence Inn and Stars Hollow are both an accountant's wet dream.

I neglected to include Brad in my poll of Gilmore Girls characters whose quietly bubbling anger will one day no longer stay contained until they snap and murder somebody.

She's definitely not, but Paris threatens her so Rory promises to ask her anyway.

The people of Stars Hollow are incredibly angry and violent. Don't let their sweet faces fool you. Try to take away their coffee or twinkle lights, or fuck up their wedding invitations, and you'll be sorry.

[inevitableinfinity]

a silly oikage confession scene | 600 words | originally posted here

-

Tobio really isn’t sure how it got to this point. How had he gone from hanging out with Hinata post-match to standing in front of Oikawa Tooru with a letter, not unlike the people who used to stop him in the hallways of Karasuno?

Let’s backtrack.

“This is stupid,” Tobio tells Hinata for the nth time. 

His friend shrugs. “Not any more stupid than what you two have been doing the past ten years or so,” Hinata replies as he finishes scribbling something down. 

“Your handwriting sucks.” Tobio squints at the note which reads “Oikawa-san, do you like me? Check one” followed by two poorly-drawn squares with a yes or no beside them. 

“I don’t wanna hear that from you,” Hinata snorts. “Besides, you were too chicken to write it yourself.” He folds the paper and shoves it into Tobio’s hands. “There, now all you have to do is give it to him.”

Tobio stares at the note. “This is stupid,” he says again and this time, Hinata is less patient. 

“Maybe if you two would stop acting like kids, we wouldn’t have to resort to this, dumbass.”

“Who’re you calling a dumbass, dumbass?!”

Hinata just holds up his phone to show Tobio his lock screen: a photo of Hinata with his arms around Kozume. “At least I can admit when I like someone.” 

“I don’t—”

Hinata throws his hands in the air. “Fine. You don’t like Oikawa-san. Just like he says he doesn’t like you. Sure. Well, I’m not going to be the middleman for you two anymore, so good luck.” Plucking the note from Tobio’s hands, Hinata tosses it back onto the table. “Chicken,” he says again before leaving.

Tobio is not a chicken, which is why he’s here now. With the letter. In front of an annoyed-looking Oikawa who, despite being technically shorter, is staring him down. 

Tobio is not a first year at Kitagawa Daiichi anymore and Oikawa is no longer quite as intimidating. Tobio is a full-grown adult who is one of the most popular professional volleyball players in Japan, who is known for being able to keep his cool under pressure, and that is why he mutters, “Here,”, forces the paper into Oikawa’s hands, and then takes off running. 

“What the hell is this? Tobio!” he can hear Oikawa yell after him. 

Tobio sprints faster.

Unfortunately, Oikawa is also a professional volleyball player and Tobio is kind of annoyed by how quickly he catches up. He doesn’t have to tackle Tobio, though, jeez, they’d never hear the end of it from Iwaizumi if either of them got hurt. 

They tumble to the ground and Oikawa pins Tobio down. 

“Explain.”

“Hinata made me do it!” Tobio exclaims, staring up at Oikawa. He can’t read the older man’s expression, but the way his eyes are zeroed in on Tobio makes him feel dizzy. Or maybe he hit his head upon impact.

“So it’s a prank?” 

“No!”

“So this is real?”

“I guess? I thought it was a stupid idea but Hinata said he was tired of us being childish and that if we were going to act like kids then we might as well—”

Tobio’s rambling is cut short because his mouth is suddenly covered. By Oikawa’s mouth. Oh. 

“Does that answer your silly question?” Oikawa breathes, moving back, nose barely brushing Tobio’s. “Of course, it was a pretty awful way to ask someone out, you really should’ve—”

This time, it’s Oikawa who’s cut off as Tobio pulls him back in for another kiss. And Tobio’s certain the dizziness is not just because he hit his head.

[taeskooksbin]

BEGUILE ; kth

CHAPTER THREE

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[ series' masterlist ]

The days went on like usual, the only difference was the amount of work I was putting in my studies, always having a book opened in front of me.

I'd take random assessments and everyone contributed in my studies equally, mom and dad randomly quizzing me, my siblings asking me several questions related to my subject.

All the questions were now looking pretty easy to me, even the test I attempted before was extremely easy and I'd occasionally cuss myself out for being so stupid but then again, I wouldn't have been able to meet Taehyung that way.

The awaited day comes around pretty quick and I chose one of the outfits that would be suitable enough to wear in front of a tutor but also 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 to have a man swoon over my body.

I threw on a brown bralette, over a brown net full sleeved top, the top did enough and showed off the bralette but it was also a bit faded and to match then I had beige pants.

I heard the doorbell ring and ran downstairs, clearly aware of who it was however before I got there, mom had already opened the door. There he was, all in his glory, wearing a black suit and his hair slicked back, revealing the forehead.

"Hey Taehyung" mom's voice echoed in the large living area while he smiled and replied back, "Hey Sofia, everything good?" He entered the door smiling at me, "Hope you're doing your homework?"

With a little grin, I nod and make sure to flash my dimples, which I am anymore enamoured with. Going straight to the point, Taehyung then suggests we immediately get to work. "I'd like to see how your studying has been going so far," he says as we walk towards dad's office.

"I feel like it's going well. But I thought so too the last time and look at me now," I chuckle. We enter dad's office, where I have set up everything like last time. But this time, I placed my chair a tad bit closer to his.

Throwing my hair over my shoulder, I expose my dainty shoulders and delicate collarbones.

I've always had this obsession with my own body. I always look after it and treat it with delicacy and care. That's why I love working out, it keeps my body in shape and healthy. On top of it, my skin is tight without a single mark on it.

But I wouldn't mind if Taehyung would fuck me roughly. I wouldn't mind gazing at the bruises he'd leave, them being reminders of the pleasure and pain I experienced.

"Let's see," he says, snapping me out of my thoughts. He grabs my papers and studies my handwriting, going over everything I wrote down.

"You changed your tactic," he says, making me snap out of my thoughts. "What?" I ask, confused. "I looked at the notes you took before your exam, and you have been writing this differently. Change your perspective on some things," he says, with proudness in his voice.

I smile, proud of myself as well. But having him praising me like this makes me feel incredibly good. And horny. "I do have some questions, though," I inform him. He nods. "Go ahead."

I start asking him some things I had trouble with while studying, things I didn't comprehend. "This would be so much easier if we were in Korea, where my head office is," he sighs and rakes a hand through his hair.

"You have one here as well?" I ask. He nods. "Yeah, I started a company a couple of years ago and have offices all over the country where I have a diversity of lawyers working. I have one here, but not all my documents are here," he explains.

"We could go to Korea?" I suggest. He looks up at me. "My parents have a loft there," I explain, "I sometimes stay there whenever I go to Korea.”

"That could be a good idea," he murmurs, and he seems to think about it. "We'll see how your progress is first. Right now, I don't think it'll be necessary based on your study method. On Thursday I'll give you a test and I'm positive you'll ace that one," he smiles.

I nod, slightly disappointed. I want to spend more time with him. "Okay, yeah, we'll see," I grin, even though it's a bit forced. It's a good thing I'm getting better at this subject, though.

"If it helps, I could take you to one of my cases, then you can see how it works." My excitement sparks up at the idea. "Really?" I ask. He nods, amusement displayed in those beautiful eyes. They seem like pools made out of honey.

"I'd love to," I smile, not able to contain my happiness. He returns the smile, and I find myself adoring the way his eyes light up when he does so. "That's settled then. I'll get you a place in court where you can watch it all going on."

"Thank you so much," I tell him, genuinely happy that he's willing to do this. "Of course, Sweetheart," he grins. Him calling me Sweetheart is doing some things to me. I send him my sweetest smile, hoping he'd glance down at what I'm wearing, but he doesn't.

He focuses back on what's in front of us. My teeth sink into my lower lip, trying to hide my disappointment. His phone suddenly starts ringing, making our heads both snap up. "I'm sorry, I have to take this call," he apologises.

I nod. "It's okay," I smile and watch him getting his phone out of his pocket and picking it up. "Ciandra, hey darling."

My heart clenches together at the words leaving his mouth, those words being reminders that he's in a committed relationship. He turns a bit away from me. "Yeah, I'm kind of in the middle of something," he tells her. I suppress a smirk.

Guess I'm more important at the moment, bitch. "I know, honey. I'll call you later. I'm helping Vincenzo's daughter," he tells her. "Love you too, baby. By now."

He hangs up and stuffs his phone away. "I'm sorry, that was my girlfriend," he chuckles. "It's okay," I lied and forced a smile.

For the rest of our time together, Taehyung just approves of everything I've done already. He suggests some things I could do better, to improve my studying and better ways to remember some things.

"I'll see you on Thursday," he says and gets up. "Yeah, see you on Thursday," I smile and walk him to the front door. "I'll tell you more about the case you'll be joining then," he says right before he leaves.

"I'm looking forward to it," I smile and wave him goodbye. Once the door is closed, I let out a little sigh and make my way into the kitchen.

Chris and Elena are bickering over something | could care less about, and dad is bothering mom while she's preparing sandwiches. I smile at their cuteness.

"How was it?" mom asks as soon as she sees me. Dad looks up, his dark eyes meeting mine. I always wondered why I didn't get the alluring eyes from dad. They hold something that draws you to him.

Instead, I got a mix of green with brown, making them a hazel-brown. But they turn green as soon as sunlight hits them. "Good," I answer, "he approved of my study method and told me I was doing a good job."

She grins at that. "That's amazing, sweetheart. I'm sure you'll get through this exam," she tells me. I take a seat at the counter and nod, my mind wandering back towards the handsome Korean man.

If I keep studying like this, I'll ace all the tests and exams coming my way. But that means that the tutoring will stop soon enough, which leaves me disappointed.

A little smile finds its way towards my cherry lips as a devious idea pops up in my mind. But what if I made mistakes on purpose?

━━━━━━━━━━━

I ring the doorbell, and after a couple of seconds, the door opens. "Hey," Alex smiles once he takes me in.

I send him a cheeky smile. "Hey," I replied and pushed him inside. "Are your parents home?" I ask quietly. He shakes his head. "No.”

"Good," I smile and connect our lips. Alex isn't bad looking at all. We always went to the same high school and had a flirty interaction with one another.

He's your typical local guy, with defined features and brown hair. Freckles are scattered across his nose and he has a pair of decent lips.

And his dick is pretty good, too.

He pushes me against the wall and hoists me up against it, wrapping my long legs around his hips. A whimper leaves my lips when he starts rolling his hips into mine, creating the friction I needed for so long.

He takes me upstairs, to his room where he throws me on his bed. We rid ourselves of our clothes and soon enough, we're both naked.

"Cut to the chase," I breathe out when he's planting kisses on my inner thighs. He chuckles. "Alright," he rasps out and takes the condom, rolling it on his length. He wastes no time and plunges right into me. My back arches off the mattress.

With his hands steadied next to my head, he starts to move in and out of me. His tongue enters my mouth, battling against mine.

Our sweaty bodies collided, moving in sync against one another. I soon turn us over and am on top of him. Throwing my head back, I start moving up and down.

But instead of Alex laying beneath me, I'm imaging a certain Korean man fucking me. I find myself going faster and harder.

Hands are planted on my ass, helping me move up and down his length. Whimpers are escaping my lips, and his name almost slips from my parted lips.

"Just like that, Sweetheart," is what I think he'd say. The thought causes another wave of pleasure to wash over me.

I open my eyes and peer down, seeing Alex's face instead of Taehyung's. His eyes are closed and his head is thrown back. It doesn't take long before we both find our release and I collapse beside him.

I catch my breath, and so does he. We're both entangled in the bedsheets, just enjoying each other's company.

"What's wrong?" I ask after some time and turn my head to look at him. His somber mood didn't go unnoticed by me. "Nothing," he answers, a sad look taking over his features. He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him.

I've always liked this about him. He likes to cuddle and so do I, so this is the first thing we do after we've had sex. "Tell me," I encouraged him. "I'm in love with a girl I can't have."

My heart saddens at the words leaving his lips. I lift my head and peer at him through my lashes, meeting his blue eyes. "Who is it?" I ask. A sad smile forms on his lips. "Kate."

My lips part in surprise at the mention of his best friend. "But isn't she already dating..."

"Logan? Yeah, I know," he sighs and averts his eyes. I furrow my brows. "I'm so sorry," I whisper and press a kiss against his cheek. "It's okay," he sighs and tries to show me an encouraging smile. "How's your summer vacation going this far?" he asks.

I shrug. "My exam results were shit, and now I'm being tutored by my dad's hot lawyer." Alex cracks a smile. "Why don't you fuck him?”

"He has a girlfriend," I answer. "I see. Been there, done that," he sighs. "Good thing is that he's willing to take me to some of his cases, so I'll be learning a bit more," I murmur.

He hums. "Yeah, that's good," he smiles, seeming happy for me. I lick my lips. "We should hang out with our group. It's been so long since we've last seen each other," I tell him. He nods. "Yeah, maybe. But that would mean bringing Kate and Logan. I've always seen him as a friend, 'Ella. But I just can't wish them the best, even though I want to."

I nod. "Yeah, I understand," I mutter and lay my head back on his chest, my brown hair sprawled all over the silky pillows.

We always had a tight group of friends during high school and we stayed in contact during our first year of college, which I appreciate. But I can tell Alex is having a hard time seeing his best friend dating someone else.

I wonder how I didn't notice before.

After some time, it's time for me to leave. I get up, showcasing my naked body. I catch a glimpse of it in the mirror and am satisfied with what I see.

I put my clothes back on and put my hair up in a ponytail. "I'll see you later," I say as Alex walks me to the front door. "Yeah, I'll text you," he says. We hug each other before I exit his house and get into my car. I wave one last time and take off, driving towards my house.

During the drive back, my mind wanders to Taehyung. It's only the third time we saw each other, I'll get him to kiss me. Eventually. It's kind of a challenge. I don't want to fuck him to see if I can get a taken guy, of course. But I want to see if someone is strong enough to resist me.

Shit, fucking Alex didn't solve my problem. I'm still thinking about him. I wonder what it is about him that makes me crave him so badly. For one, it's his looks. But something about him lures me in.

Could be his intelligence. I love the way he explains things. Could be his voice. But I just wonder if he has a side to him he doesn't show to anyone else.

A side that yet has to be... freed. And I'd be happy to be the one to unleash him.

• ━━━━━ ★ ☆ 𖤐 ━━━━━ •

• ━━━━━ ★ ☆ 𖤐 ━━━━━ •

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[hopefulromances]

Drabble Night

Hi friends! I'm happy y'all are enjoying Long Time Coming! I'm loving writing it! I'm not up to much tonight so I thought I would do some drabbles!

Here's a prompt list, send me an ask with a number and I'll write something up!

Prompts from @creativepromptsforwriting

“This didn’t work out as I had intended.”

“Urgh. Definitely not.”

“I will prove you wrong. Just watch.”

“Let’s kiss and see where it takes us.”

“Idiots. They are all idiots.”

“If I have to tell you again, I won’t be this nice.”

“Well, this went horribly wrong…”

“How do you become accidently married?”

“I hate us sometimes.”

“Why are you wearing my skirt?”

“It’s impossible to get rid of me.”

“Sometimes, I don’t know why I put up with you.”

“This is stupid. And kind of fun.”

“Please tell me, this is not why you woke me up.”

“I may have lost it.”

“You and me - movie night.”

Let’s grab the food and get out of here.“

"High heels do look good on you.”

“Roadtrip!”

“I prefer not to be disturbed.”

“We should have been in bed 3 hours ago.”

“This is a stupid excuse.”

“Why won’t you let me braid your hair?”

“Are you awake or asleep?”

“I can’t smile at you, I’m mad.”

“Well, it’s never too late.”

“Oh, look! My will to live… it’s gone.”

“Just five more minutes.”

“Where did you get the flowers from?”

“Alright, let’s make a deal.”

“You’re so easily distracted.”

“Cooking is an art form.”

“Are you a witch?”

“Thanks for nothing, I guess.”

“This is so stupid.”

“You can’t handle my beauty.”

“Is that my shirt?”

“This doesn’t smell like roses.”

“Who do we have here?”

“I’m annoyed, to say it mildly.”

“Not sure what you mean.”

“Smells suspicious.”

“Tomorrow will be better.”

“I don’t know how I feel about this.”

“Lies. Just lies.”

“Could you spare some change?”

“Well, we can’t fix it now.”

“I’m not touching that!”

“You’re not getting sea sick, are you?”

“It’s not what you think it is.”

“Did you eavesdrop?

"I can’t believe we’re friends sometimes.”

“How was I supposed to know?”

“This fits perfectly.”

“Stay there. I’m on my way.”

“Let’s get some ice cream.”

“The world is not ready for us.”

“What kind of sick dream is this?”

“You’re a legend, man!”

“The feeling is mutual.”

“Does this make sense to you?”

“I’m just so tired.”

“Do I really want to know?”

“The government doesn’t want you to know about this.”

“I volunteer myself to go last.”

“Your handwriting is atrocious.”

“This whole thing is a mess.”

“We were never prepared for this.”

“Things are worse than I thought.”

“Not our brightest idea.”

“Did you see that?”

“How did you get it destroyed like that?”

“Bye, bye, you won’t be missed.”

“This is a nightmare.”

“I have secrets you don’t know about.”

[invisibleraven]

Fluff prompts! Love letter and Rulie?

If you were to ask Luna Molina what she thought about moving, she would outright tell you she was not a fan. She liked their little house with the big oak tree in the backyard, where her treehouse lived and was home to numerous tea parties and adventures. She liked the creaky porch with the swing that she had seen so many sunsets curled between her parents. She loved her room, with the little window seat and princess bed, the walls painted to mimic a forest.

"Why do we have to move?" she asked, for what felt like the millionth time.

"Because it's too far to get to daddy's new job," mami explained, yet again. "Plus this way we'll be closer to abuelo and tio Carlos, you'd like that right?"

"Yeah," she grumbled. "But I don't want to leave Lavender and Sophie!"

"I know mija," her mother said, smoothing back the curls that resembled her own. "I don't want to leave either, but we discussed this as a family right?"

"Right," Luna's answer was mumbled and sullen. They had, with her parents telling her about daddy's new job, and how it was back in California where they came from. How they didn't want to leave Astoria, but mami could work anywhere, and before Luna started school seemed a good time as any to start over.

Plus they showed her their new house, a sprawling place right near the ocean, and Unca Alex and Willie lived just down the street, so she would get to see Isla all the time, even go to school with her! Plus Uncle Luke was nearby, as well as Auntie Carrie and Flynn.

That didn't make leaving any easier though. Especially as more and more of their life went into boxes, making the house feel cold and empty.

"Can you put this one in the pile for storage Luna boo?" daddy asked, handing her a small box. She nodded, and plodded on slowly, laying the box down in the pile in their now sparse living room. But this box wasn't taped down, so she opened it curiously. There on top was a pile of letters. She sat down and opened the first one.

Dear Reggie,

Maybe this is a bit old fashioned, writing letters while we're apart, but I think it's awfully romantic. And you do love vintage, so why not? We're just pulling away from the curb now, and I bet if I looked out the rearview, I would see you. Standing there, looking like a sad puppy. But I also know if I do that, I'll beg papi to turn around, screw going to college.

I know we agreed we'd do this long distance thing until I'm done, and I'm sure we'll be okay. It just sucks leaving you like this for four long years. We'll come out stronger in the end, I'm sure.

Until then, I remain,

Your Julie

Luna pulled out the next, recognizing her father's spiky handwriting.

Julie,

It's been a month since you left, I've marked every day off on my calendar so I knew. It feels like an eternity, and yes, I realize that makes me seem melodramatic. I just... miss you so much, you know? The guys have been ragging on me about moping about, staring out the window like I'm the lead in a rom com, pining for my lost love. Which... is an apt metaphor really.

Even if that sounds stupid because we call each other every night, you'll be home for Thanksgiving which will be here before you know it. It's just hard, because this has been the longest we've spent apart since we started dating.

Counting the days until I see you again,

Reggie

Luna scanned through the letters, each was from one of her parents to the other, four years worth of correspondence, all mushy and longing, and kind of sweet.

"What happened to my helper?"

Luna looked up and saw her dad standing there, arms crossed by that same crooked grin that she sported on his face. Then he saw the pile of letters surrounding her. "Whatcha got there bun?"

She offered her find to him, and Reggie sat on the floor, letting out a wry chuckle as he scanned over the words. "Oh man, I almost forgot about these. You mami and I, we didn't deal well with being apart. So we wrote each other all the time, trying to make the distance disappear."

"Did it work?"

"Not really," Reggie replied, shaking his head. "But I was still trying to be a rockstar back then, touring around with the band, and she was getting her degree to become a writer... it made sense to do our own thing. Even if we missed each other."

"What made you give up playing music?" Luna asked.

Reggie's expression sobered. "Your aunt Carrie... her twin brother was in our band. Bobby. He passed, rather suddenly. Didn't seem worth it going on without him. So I followed in abuelo's footsteps, became a photographer. Luke still plays and writes, and Alex does the odd thing, but it hurts too much for me. He was my best friend you see."

"But you sing all the time!" Luna protests.

"Not as a job though," Reggie replied.

"Cariño," Julie came up and sat beside them, caressing Reggie's cheek. "It might be time. We're going back to LA, maybe you could break out your bass again. The gallery doesn't need you full time, you could do it."

"Maybe," Reggie said with a sniffle. He handed Julie the letters Luna had found. "Might be time to do a lot of things we said we were gonna do."

Julie looked at the reams of paper before her and nodded. "Whatever you need, I'm here."

Luna looked between her parents, very confused, but then they kissed and she hightailed it out of there, because they got all gross when they got mushy.

She did notice however, that the pile of letters got put into a box of stuff to come with them, and not into the storage locker they were leaving behind until they got settled.

And a few months later, Luna found she loved her new home. Sure, her room was now painted like under the sea, and she didn't have a treehouse, because there was nothing but palm trees. But tio Carlos built her an awesome club house in their backyard with fairy lights in it, so that was a million times better.

But the best part was when her parents started playing music again, and their very first song with the band was dedicated to absent friends, and brighter tomorrows.

Luna loved that song, and never told anyone that the lyrics had come from a long lost letter she had found, instead letting everyone think that it was a letter to their fans written quite recently.

The love remained the same regardless.