#it’s so funny to me I brought myself to tears laughing at this

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

You know who else famously got his lashes done?

[sigma-alpha-writer-chad]

Grow Up, Would You? [Josh Washington]

“I don’t know if you’ve changed any since middle school but I really hope you’ve learned the difference between pranking somebody and just being a fucking bully.”

You can also find this story on Ao3!

Chapter Four / Chapter Five / Chapter Six

[CHAPTER FIVE]

"Chris, you are... not good at this," Josh says, holding a 4 of diamonds in his hand. "This is, like, the third time you've gotten my card wrong."

"I'd be better if I wasn't drunk off my ass," Chris defends, smacking the deck of cards on the counter. I say nothing, too busy trying to calm my laughter and holding on to Matt for balance. Laughing, himself, he holds my forearms to keep me steady.

Although they'd left us for a while, Matt and Mike eventually migrated back into the kitchen at the sound of the laughter. I was shocked that Emily wasn't wrapped around Mike like she usually was, but no one would ever hear me complain or even acknowledge her absence.

"I don't think we've ever actually spent much time together," Matt says, straightening up as he wiped a tear from his eye. "You're cool. I'm sorry for maybe seeing kind of, standoffish, earlier...?" He rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Oh, no," I giggle. "It's awkward meeting new people, I get it. Thank you, though." I knew Matt was more meek than the others, but I didn't realize he was a sweetheart. Mike pats me on the back.

"She's maaad cool," he confirms. By the way his words merge together I can tell he's drunk. "I've never gotten to talk to her thoughhh, Emily think she wants me or whatever."

"Emily thinks everyone wants you," Josh snorts. Mike gasps, placing his hands over his torso dramatically.

"Don't they?" I cringe. Josh taps the counter loudly, drawing our attention to the lineup of shots.

"What are the, uh," Chris starts, looking into his shot as he tries to find the words he needs. "The girls! Sam, Jess, and Emily, the twins, what're they doing?" he asks.

"Some skin routine, or something. Jess brought an entire kit," Mike sighs. "I'm pretty bummed out that she said girls only, that stuff is fire." We all clink our glasses together and take the shots, Matt shaking his head violently after he swallowed.

"Goddamn, shit is nasty," he hissed, scrunching up his face. Everyone else can't help but laugh, though I can feel my face starting to burn. It could be nothing or anything, but in the past I've learned that sometimes it means I just need some air.

"I'm gonna go get some air," I say, hiking my thumb behind me towards the back balcony.

"Gonna hurl?" Josh asks, that stupid grin on his stupid face.

"No, just need some air." I walk out the door and outside. Shit. I forgot my coat. I decide against going inside - it would be embarrassing if they realized. The night was going so well, I didn't want them to watch me take the walk of shame to grab my winter garments.

I clear off a part of the railing and lean against it, shivering and holding myself. The icy air did it's job quickly in cooling my skin and opening my lungs. Despite my shivering, I took slow, deep breaths until I hear the door opening and closing behind me.

"Hey," I greet, not turning around.

"Cold?" I chew on my cheek as Josh leans next to me, holding one of his thick coats in his hands.

"Freezing," I admit, laughing. Josh says nothing, instead gently placing his coat over my shoulders. Holy fuck it was warm. Despite my reservations I quickly put it on and zip it closed, letting out a heavy sigh of relief. "Oh, wow, thank you. It's so warm." Josh laughs loudly and leans again on the railing next to me, our shoulders a hair apart.

"I have it hanging next to the fireplace," he explains. I look up at him through my lashes, and he looks down at me. "So, always nice and toasty... like a Hot Pocket." I look back out across the snowy forest in a failed attempt to hide the smile from my face. I don't know why I thought it was funny - because it wasn't.

I've always hated that Josh was able to make me smile, even when he was at his worst bullying me. If he was making jokes nearby, I was the one nearly bursting a blood vessel trying not to laugh. I know he sees me, though, because he had a twinkle in his eye and a gentle grin of his own.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks me, tilting his head in an attempt to be on my level.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I reply, surprised he was asking. "I just need a break sometimes." I pause. "Thanks for checking."

"Alright, girl, well," he starts, leaning against me for a second. He's so warm I almost ask him to stay there. I knew at that thought that I should start drinking less vodka and more water. "I'll give you your... your alone time."

"Thank you, Josh." I say. He pauses, and suddenly there's much more hesitance to leave. I wonder why. Is it that I said his name? "Are you okay?" he takes a deep inhale.

"Yeah," he starts, though I'm immediately not convinced. "I just need a little space, sometimes, too." There's another pause. He's still leaning against me, our shoulders pressed together. For a millisecond I can feel my head move to lean on his shoulder and I freeze. Josh opens his mouth again, hesitating to speak. "I don't know how I'm feeling about Mike, lately."

"Mike?" I repeat. He nods, taking another deep breath.

"Hannah's got a thing for him," Josh states. He's looking across the forest with his eyebrows furrowed. "And he keeps playing with her feelings, I think."

"You think?" He nods again.

"He hasn't - he won't reject her. He knows how she feels about him and he just let's her. I think he digs the attention or something, but it's pissing me off. I tried to tell Hannah he wasn't into her, but -" he cuts himself off and shakes his head. I can tell he's getting angry at just the thought of the subject. "But she just won't listen. How can a girl so smart not see what he's doing?"

"I don't know," I murmur. I wasn't sure what to say, or how to comfort him. "She asked me about him, earlier." Josh looks at me as he waits for me to continue. "Asked what I thought about him. I just said he wasn't my type, he's got a girlfriend, whatever."

"Oh, well, what is your type?" He smirks. I roll my eyes and lean hard against him as he laughs at me.

"I think she knows Mike doesn't feel the same," I say. "She just doesn't care."

"The land of delusion," Josh huffs before looking at me. "Wanting somebody you can't have, well... I guess that sort of runs in the family." I side eye him and my heart rate picks up.

"Sam?" I gulp. Josh bursts out in laughter.

"Oh, Jordan," he starts, rubbing his eyes. "You kill me."

"I'm funny, I know," I grin. We make eye contact again and the pressure of his shoulder against mine increases as he leans further into me before, finally, pulling away. The absence of his warmth is immediate and I frown.

"I'm just worried about Hannah, is all," he clarifies, suddenly. "I'll see you back inside."

"See you." I smile, softly, and listen as the door opens. Instead of closing, though, I hear gentle conversation and a 'she wants some alone time right now, man.' I turn around to see Mike trying to go to the balcony with me, Joshua blocking his way. They continue to bicker, but I can't hear anything else until Mike notices me watching.

"Hey, Jordan, just thought we could get to know each other better without Emily bitching you out!" He calls. I frown and look at Josh, who is staring at the back of Mike's head so intensely I half expected to see smoke start rising from his dark hair.

"You talk about your girlfriend weird," I blurt out. I look around me as if Emily would descend upon us at any moment and exact her wrath. "Don't you like her or something?" Mike laughs and shakes his head, finally pushing past Josh, who stumbles a few feet back.

"Of course I do," he says, placing both hands on my shoulders. I tense up immediately and make an attempt to gently shrug him off, but he just tightens his grip slightly. "But sometimes she tries to keep me from making new friends, or trying to strengthen already existing relationships. You understand, right? Jealous girlfriend things."

"I'm about to go inside," I gulp. I want his hands off of me now. I don't hate Mike, but the discomfort was incredible. "Just go on in and wait for me."

"Oh, come on, let's -"

"She said she's going inside." Josh butts in. I furrow my eyebrows and Mike finally lets me go. My feelings are complicated, both appreciation and annoyance swirling in my chest. Appreciation for the defense, and annoyance for not letting me handle it myself.

The appreciation wins over.

I pull the coat up over my cold nose and look between Josh and Mike. It's now, as Mike holds his hands up in defeat and he and Josh bicker, that I realize Josh's coat smelled so good. Did he smell this good? My drunken mind considers getting really close to Josh to find out.

It smells like pine, firewood, and cologne. I was almost sure though that the pine and firewood was from the cologne itself. I close my eyes. The scent was comforting and made me feel warmer.

My serenity is interrupted by Mike slamming the lodge door behind him as he finally relented and went inside. I jump, startled, and slip, falling flat on my back. There was enough snow that it didn't hurt, but I wasn't happy. I can hear Josh laughing.

"I'm going to try to help you up," he says through giggles. I start to sit up, slowly, and he offers is hand. I take it, and smile mischievously. "What're you-" I pull him down into the snow with me, doing my best evil laugh as I stand up. Josh rolls around, trying to get a grip on his surroundings, and he grabs my leg and pulls me back down on top of him.

I land on his chest and he lets out a huff, the air from his lungs being knocked out of him. As I try to get up, he wraps his arms around me and doesn't let go.

"Hey, hey! Release me, wench!" I yell. I try to sound serious, but I'm giggling and beaming.

"No can do, lady. Feel the wrath of Mr. Winter!" He rolls over so that I'm sunken into the pile of snow that had accumulated at the edge of the balcony. It reaches just over my ears.

And he's on top of me, his hands now on my hips and holding me down, his knee resting between mine. I'm shaking, but not from the cold anymore.

"Comfy?" He asks, moving his hands from me to hold himself up.

"Five stars," I sigh, rolling my eyes. I wish I wasn't smiling. I wish my heart wasn't pounding. "Can I get up now?"

"I don't know, all this alcohol and being wasted shit has made me tired," he yawns. His breath smells like booze and breath mints he'd been popping all night. He moves slowly, as if giving me an opportunity to stop him, and lays fully on top of me. "I'm going to sleep." Instead of shoving him off and screaming, like a part of me tells me to, I let him. His breath is warm on my neck as he fake-snores loudly. I shudder.

"Okay pal, get off me before somebody comes out here and sees this."

"Embarrassed?" Josh laughs breathily, his warm breath continuing to send chills through my body.

"Nervous."

"I make you nervous?" He sits himself back up again, that dumb smile back on his face. I try to think about the terrible things he'd done to me in our elementary and middle school times, but I can't seem to be upset at him no matter how much I try. I'm feeling something different for him. Not disdain or annoyance or the usual hatred.

It's something different.

"Yes." I relent. "And you do smell good."

"What?" I laugh out loud in embarrassment and disbelief at myself.

"I've had too much to drink," I sigh. I smile at Josh, and he smiles back, but he appears nervous and his eyes can't reach mine. He chews his lip as he starts to get up. I almost frown as he does, the warmth and weight of his body was comforting. He reached out his hand, again, and this time I take it.

"Let's go back inside," he mumbles, brushing the snow off of me. I smile as he does. "Okay?

"Okay."

----------

I sit at the counter of the bar, resting my chin on the palm of my right hand. On the other side stood Josh. He has a cocktail shaker in his hands, shaking it like a professional bartender would.

"Another water for the fair young lady?" He asks, taking my glass and filling it with the clear liquid, adding as much dramatic flair as he could.

"Oh, yes, m'dear, thank you," I hum. Chris and everyone else had headed to bed long ago, leaving Josh and I alone in the kitchen, the both of us deciding to be mostly sober before even going to bed. Josh slides the water to me and winks. I laugh, then snap my mouth shut.

"What is it?" He asks, tilting his head and leaning over the counter.

"I..." I start to laugh, moving my arm to hide my face. "I sound so, so drunk." Josh laughs at me before pushing the glass of water to me again.

"Drink up, madam," he says. I grab the glass, slowly sliding it towards me as Josh and I lock eyes. I raise an eyebrow and bring the water to my lips, downing it quickly like a massive shot.

"I'd like another, please. And make that a double."

"As you wish," he laughs. He gives me water in a much bigger glass, not bothering with the theatrics this time as he gets himself a drink as well. Instead of walking around the bar to sit, he stays opposite of me and leaning over the counter. I take a sip from the cup. I can feel myself growing more sober as time passes, but not by much. "How're you feeling?" I tilt my head in thought. I wondered for just a moment if I should be honest with him.

"I'm feeling good," I admit, smiling to myself. I can feel him watching me. "I'm..." I swallow, a bit nervous. "I'm glad I came. Thank you for tolerating me." My eyes move to his. The kitchen was completely dark save for a single light above the stove. For a moment I think he almost looks handsome in this lighting.

I must be wasted.

"I should say the same," Josh sighs, looking away from me. He's staring at the counter now. "I know I'm not... Your favorite." He starts, inhaling deeply. "But you've been showing up, anyways, for Chris and... And my sisters. I love Chris, and I love my sisters, more than anything, y'know? So... If they call you friend, you..." His eyes meet mine for not even a second, seemingly too nervous to meet my eyes. "You let me know if you need anything and I'll try to help you out, alright?" My eyes are watering. Why are my eyes watering? Why is he saying this to me.

"...okay," I croak. I can barely get the words out of my throat. "Thank you." I gulp down the rest of my water in an attempt to snuff out the fire burning in my chest. The air becomes heavy and thick with awkward tension. I wonder if he can hear my heart pounding.

"Do you want to put on a movie?" Josh asks, snapping me out of my fog.

"Uhm, sure. What are you thinking?"

"I've got Scream," he grins. "Do you like scary movies?" I roll my eyes, but I can't hide the smile growing on my face. "Ahh, there it is," Josh says gently, his voice low. My face feels like its set on fire.

"Is the couch fine?!" I gasp, standing up quickly and stumbling backwards. Josh laughs and asks if I'm okay, but I ignore him and scurry to the couch. Above the fireplace was a massive television. Josh turns it on and flips through channels to his own recording of Scream. I can't help but laugh.

"You recorded Scream?"

"Hey, man, don't be a hater," Josh sighs. As the movie starts he takes his seat. I'm at one end of the couch, and he's at the other. As we watch the movie, I take suspicious glances every now and then at Josh. Sometimes, I look at him and he's fully turned to look at me.

"Is there something on my face?" I ask when I catch him again. He shakes his head.

"No, I just want to see your reactions to the movie," he admitted. He's sounding less sober and more tired. As I look back towards the TV I can feel the sofa move as he moves towards me.

"I've seen this before," I whisper.

"Say what?" Josh scoots closer again so he can hear me. When I look at him again the movie starts to disappear. I don't know what I'm thinking.

I scoot closer to him.

"I said I've seen this movie before," I repeat, slightly louder. Josh is staring at me now without hesitation. I can tell he's tired, yet he has no issue with keeping his eyes on me. He looks like a puppy dog, pleading for any sort of attention.

"Oh, have you?" He says. This time, he's whispering, yet he's close enough that I can hear him just fine. I only realize, now, that our knees our touching, exactly as they did at the pizza bar. My heart rate picks up as Josh scans every detail of my face.

"Mhm," I hum. I look at his lips. They look soft. My hand twitches as I resist the urge to reach up and brush my thumb across his lip. How much have I had to drink?

"Jordan..." He starts, leaning in.

"Josh?" I gulp, looking back into his eyes.

Green eyes.

His hand slowly moves itself to my forearm.

"I am..." He laughs softly. "I think I have to be wasted." His hand slowly moves up my arm and to my shoulder but he doesn't stop. He brushes his thumb across my collarbone before he gently settles his hand gently at the side of my neck.

"Me, too," I whisper. Josh parts his lips and slowly moves closer to me, his thumb brushing my jawline. Is he going to kiss me? Holy shit. Is Joshua Washington going to kiss me? My heart pounds and I worry for a moment that I'm about to die. My chest is going to burst open at any second now.

"So we should stop," I say breathlessly, my hands quickly moving to his chest. It was surprisingly solid. My heart is twisted harshly, my chest so tight it felt as if my ribs would shatter at any moment. I half expect him to call me ugly, to scoff and roll his eyes, tell me it was just a joke.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he closes his eyes and rests his forehead against my own.

"I'm sorry, Jordan, I don't know what came over me," he spoke softly, just above a whisper. His hand doesn't leave it's place on my skin, and for some unspeakable reason I don't mind it. "Can I just... I'm... I don't know. Things feel fine with you," he admits, whispering as if I'll break if he speaks too loud. "Can we just stay like this for a while?" I nod, closing my own eyes as he rests his head on my shoulder. My hands move to his head as if on instinct, one hand brushing his hair softly and the other tracing circles on his back. He slowly wraps his arms around me in a loose hug, his weight pushing me backwards as he fell deeper into sleep.

Instead of laying back, myself, I slowly guided his head to my lap, where I continued to run my fingers through his hair.

"Chris would go insane if he saw this," I chuckle, a small smile on my face.

"You drive me insane," Josh mumbles something I can barely catch.

"Says you, Mr. Locker-Rats," I scoff. He smiles at the nickname.

"That's such a stupid name," he laughs. He takes a deep breath and his smile falters. Thank you, Jordan," he sighs, turning over into his side. "I really needed this."

"Hm?"

"I need this..." Josh says as he drifts off to sleep.

I'm sober now.

I know I'll remember this. I'll remember this for the rest of my life. The fragile body of my worst enemy left open and vulnerable to me like no one else had ever been, his head in my lap, with what felt like his soul held in my very hands. I felt as if one wrong move would break him.

Would he remember? Will he still be so kind, so gentle when everyone else can see him be kind to me?

I didn't think so. I sucked my bottom lip between my teeth. Despite my reservations I continue to slowly pet his thick, soft hair. It's now, as I look down at him sleeping, that I start to realize that maybe I don't hate him anymore.

Maybe we could be some sort of friends.

I smile to myself and sigh, leaning back against the couch. I swear right then that I wouldn't fall asleep. Once the movie was over, I would go to my own room to spare Josh and I the embarrassment of being found in such a comfortable position with each other.

"You've changed," I murmur. "I think I like it." He says nothing. As the movie goes on, I watch his body rise and fall with his steady breathing. He'd been good to me today.

As the credits roll, I gently slide out from under him and replace my lap with a pillow under Josh's head. He doesn't move, and I lay a nearby throw blanket over him. I contemplate removing his boots, but decide against it to avoid waking him up. As I crouch down to his level, I take a moment to examine his face.

I hate to admit it, I do, but he looked serene. I thought to myself that maybe it was time to admit that he was physically appealing. I felt a safety and comfort around Josh, now, that I'd never felt before. Why? Is he really that different? Does he really care about me?

Or are we both drunk?

I chew on my lip as I stare at him. I don't know what's happening to me, I don't know what's come over me, but I run my fingers through his hair one more time as I place a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. He shifts, and for a split second I think I see him trying to hold back a smile. I squint, but he doesn't move again. I sigh.

"Goodnight, Joshua."

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

Hey y'all! Thank you so much for your patience. This chapter did not want to work with me and kept not saving progress made and I kept having to re write it. I believe this chapter is a bit longer than normal, so I hope that makes up for it! The next one will be longer, too. I love talking to everybody, so thank you all so much for the kind comments, they make me so happy. Much love!!

Also: Accidentally posted this early, so some may be seeing this a second time. If that's you, this is the FINISHED chapter! Thank you.

❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @sc4rrc @mattymxmo @cellyx33 @jenepleurepasbaby @kalynnjonas @spinback-kiva @frankcastlesvest @barnxsromanxff

[digitaltaesan]

── HE’S SOMETHING

in which PARK JISUNG stumbles across his girlfriends diary, finding multiple journal entries about him.

PARING: bf!jisung x gf!reader

WORDCOUNT: 664

GENRE: established relationship, fluff fluff fluff, lovesick reader

WARNINGS: short and sweet :]

NOTE: part of my series yel express :>

today is our anniversary and i can’t help but dream about our future. i hope i’m not getting too ahead of myself.

but it just seemed perfect. a life where we graduate and move in together. of course i get the ride side of everything. he doesn’t oppose, like the gentleman he is.

before jisung i felt like i wasn’t worth of love. it was hard, watching everyone around me move forward and fall in love. but i was stuck in the same spot—stuck by myself.

when he came into my life it felt like heaven. he made me laugh, made me see the true beauty in myself.

without jisung, i don’t know where i’d be.

today i find myself reflecting on the chaos of my life—love has always been an interesting one. it sneaks up on you, sometimes when you least expect it.

i remember when i first felt what I thought was love—it was overwhelming to say the least. it was like everything in my world became brighter, but also more complicated.

love has this ability to make everything feel alive, but it also has a sharp edge. the vulnerability it brings, the fear of loss, it’s almost as if i’m willingly walking into a storm. and then there’s the joy, that sense of being seen, understood, and held by another person. it makes me believe that love is worth all the highs and lows.

but then there are feelings—those subtle, silent guides that whisper to me, shaping my decisions without me even realizing.

sometimes, it’s a soft warmth that tells me everything is okay, and other times, it’s a deep ache that makes me question everything.

i’ve learned that feelings aren’t something to be ignored. they carry messages. they tell me when i’m out of alignment with myself, or when i’m not allowing myself to feel all that I need to.

sometimes, i wish i could control them better—hold back the tears when they come or stop myself from feeling so much.

but without feelings and love, i wouldn’t have stumbled into jisung. and every time i think of the moment we first met, i never regret it.

there’s something so exhilarating about the feeling that everything’s new again. it’s like i’ve stepped into a world where every moment sparkles with possibility.

ever since he came into my life, it feels like i see the world differently. it’s as if everything, even the most ordinary things, carry a new kind of magic when he’s around.

when we’re together, even the simplest moments feel full. i never thought i’d find someone who makes life feel so alive, never thought i’d find jisung.

i used to believe i could find contentment on my own, that i didn’t need anyone to change the way i experience life. but then I met him, and suddenly everything’s better.

the way he laughs, the way his eyes light up when he talks about his dreams, the way he listens when i share mine—it all feels like a dream.

i never knew life could feel this bright. he’s brought a warmth into my life that i didn’t even know was missing. everything feels lighter, more vibrant, more hopeful when he’s by my side.

it’s strange how quickly someone can come into your world and change the way you see it. i find myself looking at the future with more excitement than i ever thought possible, simply because i can’t imagine it without him.

everything feels better with him—every smile, every conversation, every shared glance. there’s a sense of peace that comes from knowing he’s there, making everything feel right.

it’s funny, because before him, i never imagined this kind of connection. i didn’t know how much of a difference it could make to have someone who just fits, like two pieces of a puzzle coming together. life has a way of surprising you, and i’m thankful every day that he’s part of my surprise.

surely, definitely, he’s something

©https//www.digitaltaesan.com

[ellieputellas]

if you’d have stuck around | elisa de almeida x reader

Years have passed since you last saw Elisa. Now, you are settled in California with a budding writing career and a new girlfriend. But, fate didn’t seem to be done with you and Elisa

tags: angst, past relationship, exes that haven’t seen each other in years, slow burn (?), forbidden pining, just a lot of unresolved issues tbh

part one | part two | part three

part one.

and the funny thing is, i would have married you if you'd have stuck around — doomsday - lizzy mcalpine

For the first time in years, your heart skipped a beat.

It felt like a movie. Your heartbeat paused for a second, then it was all you could hear—a rhythmic pounding in your ear, drowning out all other noise. Everything else was blurry, and all you could focus on was her.

She was laughing, tilting her head back and exposing her perfect smile and the lines around her eyes you loved so much. She ran her hand through her hair, which wasn’t styled much differently than it was when you were younger; it was just more grown-up. She looked better than she ever did.

The lump in your throat grew, and, weirdly, you felt tears burn your eyes, threatening to fall. You blinked and quickly wiped the lone tear that dared to drip down your cheek.

It had been five years since you last saw Elisa.

You still remembered how it all fell apart. You remembered the tears and heartbreak that came with your parting. You remembered the shouting, the arguments, the pain… like it was yesterday.

You didn’t even remember how the fight began. You thought it might have started when you expressed jealousy over her teammate, or maybe it was her complaining about how you spent too much time with your extracurriculars.

Damn, it might have even been just about postponing a date. All you could remember now was that it was a petty argument that opened up a whole can of worms. It spiraled and branched out into different arguments—never spending time together, not communicating, not prioritizing the relationship at all, hiding the relationship from everyone—but it was one question that started the end of it all.

“Five years from now, where do you even see yourself, Elisa?” “W-what do you mean?” “Answer.” “What kind of question is that?” You remembered the exasperation in her voice. “Tell me.” “Fuck, I don’t know. Playing for a major league, traveling the world and competing against the best teams, maybe even playing in the Olympics,” she rambled.

“I don’t know what exactly I want, but I know for sure that I want to make a name for myself. I need to. I know everything will be okay once I do that.” “That’s it?” you asked. “H-huh?” She looked irritated. “What else matters aside from that? What do you want me to do? Give you a five-year plan? “I�� is that all that matters, Elisa?” you asked. She paused and ran a hand through her hair, looking annoyed. “What else matters?” Your voice cracked, and your lip quivered. “I just…” You couldn’t hold back the tears. “You didn’t even mention me.”

Now, your tears were definitely forming into thick beads, threatening to spill out.

And that’s when you locked eyes.

You could see her face tense up instantly. Elisa blinked twice in disbelief, and her jaw stiffened. She parted her lips as if to say something, as if you could hear each other with the distance between you in this noisy and busy hotel lobby.

You looked away.

“Hey, are you okay?” Suddenly, you were brought back to reality. You looked up to see your co-worker and girlfriend, Casey. She smiled at you sweetly and pushed a stray hair from your face. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

You blinked, suddenly remembering what you were here for. You and Casey were sent to this hotel to interview some football players for the media company you worked for. The person originally assigned to this slipped and broke a wrist this morning, so you were the last-minute replacement.

Your boss (and Casey’s dad) had found out about how you went to a few football summer camps back in France as a teenager and decided that was good enough for you to cover this story.

You went, not thinking much about it; just another day’s worth of work. Besides, you were used to showing up to the job last minute with no prior briefing. But who would have thought that it would be her team?

If you had just known that the team you would be interviewing was Paris Saint-Germain, you would have slipped and attempted to break a bone too.

“I don’t feel so good, babe,” you lied. “I might be feverish.”

She tilted her head in confusion. “Huh? You look fine to me.” She pressed the back of her hand to your forehead. “You’re not warm at all either.”

Your eyes darted quickly to Elisa, who was with her team sorting their bags. She had her eyes stuck on you. You looked down at the floor again, careful not to lock eyes with her again.

“The team manager knew my dad back in the day and asked us to do a fun feature just for the team to get exposure here; capitalize on the whole women’s soccer rise here,” Casey said. She noticed you looking down at your feet. “You good?”

You looked at her with a smile. “Yes, yes, I guess I’m just dizzy.”

She smiled. “It’s just a fluff piece. You’ll be fine,” she said. “We’ll be in and out in 20 minutes. Besides, you might know some of these girls. Maybe they went to the same camps you did back in France. Fun walk down memory lane, yeah?”

If only she knew.

The next moments passed by in a flurry. Your team set up a makeshift shooting studio in one of the conference rooms. You had the props all set up and the scripts ready.

The social media producer, Gina, reminded you that only a handful of players could join as the others would be doing a different press interview with a sports magazine. You let out a deep breath.

“Okay, so, give them these whiteboards to write on. It’s just the typical ‘who’s more likely to’ content,” Gina said as she handed you the script and whiteboards. “I’ll brief them, but please translate if needed. Later, you’ll be off camera, but I’d still like you to read out each prompt loud enough just so the editor can hear it and won’t struggle in editing. All good?”

You bit your lip and nodded. “Can I know who the players are?”

“I think we requested mostly the English-speaking ones because we told their manager that we didn’t have a translator with us initially, but some of these sound hella French, so I trust you’ll manage.” The producer looked down at the chart. “Let’s see… Earps, Alberts—oh, I know her—uh… Groenen, Geyoro… yup!”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “That’s it? Just them?” You felt a tad relieved.

Gina nodded. “Yeah, I think the other players will be doing another interview,” she said as she looked through the list again. “I hope these are all the English-speaking ones because putting on translated subs would be a pain in the ass for the editor.”

You hummed in response and sighed. You didn’t know why, but aside from feeling relieved, you felt mildly disappointed. You’d told yourself several times that you never wanted to see Elisa ever again, but a part of you was just… curious.

Two strong arms wrapped around your waist, making you jump. You looked behind you to see your girlfriend, Casey. “Oh, it’s you,” you sighed.

She chuckled. “Of course, it’s me.” She smiled at you, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “Who else would it be?”

You stayed silent, unmoving.

She laughed and started playfully rocking you from side to side as she rested her head on your shoulder. “I just figured you needed a hug because you looked so tense and nervous,” she said in a low voice, so Gina and the other couple of crew members with you wouldn’t hear. “You good, babe?”

You nodded. “Yeah, yeah, I just… feel nervous talking to these footballers. They’re pretty famous, y’know.”

She hummed. “I’m glad you’re here then. I don’t know shit about soccer,” she joked. “Why don’t you make me watch a game of, uh, Paris Saint-Germain, and I’ll give you a kiss every time they score or something?”

Your nerves started to dissipate as your girlfriend flirted with you more. She always knew how to calm your nerves. You reminded yourself to relax and not be so tense. Elisa wasn’t in your panel to be interviewed; there was no reason to worry about seeing her again.

“Pack up the PDA, you two,” Gina scolded. “The soccer girls will be here soon since we gave them a heads-up. No more kissy-kissy face once they’re here, or I’m telling your father.”

Casey chuckled at the older producer and gave her a playful salute. “Yes, ma’am,” she smiled. She turned to you. “One last kiss on the cheek before we behave?”

You chuckled and planted a kiss on her jaw, leaving a lipstick mark. You giggled as you tried to rub it off, struggling to get most of it off. “Oh no, if they see this, they’ll think we’re so unprofessional.”

“No way, they’re French. They’ll get it.” Casey gave you one last wink before putting on her headset and heading to the other crew guys who were setting up the lights and camera.

You looked through the script one more time as if it was worth reviewing; it was all pretty basic. Moments later, you heard the door open, and you could tell the group arrived by the loud chattering and chuckling.

All English chattering, you thought to yourself. No French speaker, so there really was no reason for me to be here. You sighed and turned around and instantly, your heart sank. What was she doing here?

Gina welcomed the girls, and they all smiled and exchanged niceties, except for Elisa, who was looking at you with an unreadable expression. You bit your lip and hurried over to your girlfriend, who was preoccupied, talking to one of the camera guys about something.

"Casey, uh, one of the players isn’t part of the interview but she’s here," you stammered. "Is that okay? It must be a mistake."

Casey furrowed her dark eyebrows and ran a hand through her brown hair. "Uh, hmm, maybe last-minute changes? Can you go ask Gina about it, babe? I’m a bit busy."

You sighed and nodded. Before you could even take a moment to think, Gina was calling your name. You winced slightly before gathering your composure and walking over with a fake smile.

"Our actual writer for today is out sick, so she’ll be taking over," Gina mentioned after introducing you. "But she’s actually perfect for the job, as she spent a few summers in France as a teen. If anyone needs a French translation, she’s your gal."

The blonde girl, who you knew well as Mary Earps, chuckled and quipped, "Oh, I bet she speaks French better than most of us… except maybe Elisa."

Elisa gave a tight smile, looking amused, but you could tell she was as tense as you. You nodded and tried to keep smiling. "Oh, so, uh, De Almeida is taking Geyoro’s place?" you asked, furrowing your eyebrows. “The list your manager sent had her listed.”

Elisa looked at you with an unreadable expression. "Well, Grace figured my English is better than hers, so I should take her place," she explained nonchalantly. "Will that be a problem?"

Ignoring the slight edge in her tone, you shook your head. "No, no, just making sure." You gave her a warm smile, which she didn’t reciprocate. "Anyway, I’m so glad to have met you all."

Gina led the group to the shoot and briefed them. One of the girls, Jackie, quickly warmed up to you. "You play too?" She asked you, making polite conversation.

You nodded. "Yeah, but never professionally. I just loved it as a kid."

"That’s so cool. Where in France did you go for summer camp?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Uh, Montpellier," you replied, hesitating.

Her eyes widened. "What? That’s crazy. Elisa used to play there." She smiled widely and tugged on Elisa’s arm. "Our writer used to train at Montpellier too."

Elisa glanced at you, unamused, before turning back to Jackie. "You really should listen to the instructions, Jackie," she said, refusing to acknowledge you.

Wow, so professional.

Jackie seemed confused with how Elisa responded but didn’t bother to question it and just settled with listening to Gina. You bit your lip, pretending to look at the script again.

Later, you all moved to the other side of the conference room where the temporary set was. Casey seemed busy adjusting some things but she gave you a cheeky wink as you passed her.

Unbeknownst to you, Elisa noticed, recalling that this was the same girl who’d been brushing stray hairs from your face in the lobby earlier. She also furrowed her eyebrows together after seeing a light, smudged lipstick mark on Casey’s cheek; just one glance at you, she could tell it was the same shade as the lipstick you were wearing.

Gina had the team all set up and seated. She signaled you to hand over the whiteboards. All the girls smiled and thanked you, but when you reached Elisa, there was only silence.

You tried to steady your nerves as you made your way to the side of the camera, squatting down.

"Oh no, why’s the pretty writer on the floor?" Jackie commented with a friendly smile at you. "She should sit with us."

You smiled and shook your head. "No, no, can’t be seen by the camera," you explained. "I’m good, I promise."

The sweet Dutch girl smiled again at you. The others also gave polite smiles, except for Elisa, who was busy capping and uncapping her whiteboard marker repeatedly. So, she still fidgets a lot, huh.

The shoot began, and you read the first question. "Who is most excited to play against San Diego Wave in the upcoming friendlies match?"

The girls quickly wrote on their boards, as if they already knew. Elisa was a bit more relaxed but still seemed tense around you.

They all turned their boards, each unanimously agreein that it would be Korbin Albert.

"And it’s not just the match," Mary commented. "The whole flight, it was all, 'Omg guys, we should try Raising Cane’s,' or 'We should all go to Disneyland!' I think she’s just thrilled to be home really."

They laughed at Mary’s fake American accent, and Korbin shrugged. "What can I say? Proud American," she said. Of course, she would be.

After they erased their boards, you moved on to the next question. "Who is most likely to be late to training?"

They all paused, looking at each other as if clueless, until Jackie’s eyes lit up. She chuckled. "Okay, before I even reveal my answer, my only disclaimer is that she was only late recently, but she’s usually punctual."

The others seemed to catch on and began writing. Elisa appeared to be spacing out, still deep in thought.

"Are you guys ready?" you prompted.

Elisa snapped out of it and looked at you. "Sorry, I didn’t hear the question," she said genuinely.

All the other girls laughed. She looked at you to repeat it, but before you could, Gina asked if she needed a French translation.

Elisa gave a weak smile. "Eh, why not? Why have a French translator if she won’t speak French?" she joked.

You bit your lip and looked down at the script. "Uh, qui est le plus… uh, susceptible d’arriver en retard à… l’entraînement?" you said with your unpracticed French.

Elisa’s eyes softened, and her smile grew. You hated to admit it, but you missed seeing that smile. "Hmm, ton français est toujours aussi bon," she complimented.

You blinked, looking around to see if anyone understood, only to remember you were the only other person who spoke French too.

But just as you started to relax, Jackie gave a confused look. "Toujours?" she muttered, questioning why Elisa would say your French was still so good.

Elisa raised her eyebrows, suddenly remembering that Jackie was getting proficient in French, but ignored the comment as she wrote down her answer.

You panicked. "Okay, ready, guys?" you counted down for them to turn their boards.

They all wrote down "Elisa," except for Elisa, who had written "Jackie." Jackie feigned sadness at Elisa’s answer.

Elisa looked at everyone’s boards. "Why did you all write me?"

Korbin laughed. "Well, Jackie’s right… Elisa is usually punctual, but she was late to the airport the other day because she forgot her passport, and it made everyone panic."

The group nodded. "Yeah, our manager was losing his mind until Elisa showed up, all sweaty from running through the gates," Mary laughed, recounting the moment. "But thank god she made it, or else there’d be no French rep in this video. Isn’t that right?"

They all laughed, and Elisa gave a playful shrug. "I’m always early to training, though. The airport was a one-time thing…" she defended herself.

Before they could erase, Jackie asked, "Why did you write me, though?"

"I mean, we’re usually on time, but I just think you’re the most likely to be late," Elisa replied with a shrug. "I don’t know."

Jackie sighed. "I’m always earlier than everyone," she corrected Elisa. "Toujours earlier than everyone."

You stiffened at the "toujours" comment; she really had noticed Elisa’s slip-up earlier. Along with the fact that you had brought up to her that you lived in Montpellier, you were certain that Jackie had pieced together that you and Elisa may have had history.

Elisa seemed to notice you stiffening up to the comment since she cleared her throat to bring your attention back to the interview.

You looked at the next line. "Uh," you stammered, "Uhm, next question: Who’s most likely to go overboard with celebrations?"

You went through a few more rounds. The girls quickly warmed up, laughing and bantering. Elisa remained mostly quiet, though she did chime in occasionally. Finally, you finished with the last question, and it was time to wrap up.

"Okay, that’s all the questions." You smiled at them.

The girls stood up and thanked the crew. Each of them thanked you as they passed. Your heart started racing as Elisa approached you.

She held out her hand, which was unusual, but you didn’t want to appear impolite, so you shook it. Her grip was firm. "Bonne interview."

You gave her a tight smile. "Merci."

She gave you one last, loaded look, her brown eyes gazing deeply into yours. It had been years since you’d been this close to Elisa, holding her hand as you were now. You noticed her glancing quickly at your features—your eyes, nose, lips—as if committing them to memory in the brief moment.

She gave you a final smile before letting go of your hand. You looked straight ahead, stunned, not looking back as the girls left the conference room.

You wondered if this would be the last time you’d see Elisa de Almeida.

"Babe, you good? You’ve been so quiet," Casey asked.

Everyone was almost finished packing up. You’d spent most of the time after the interview looking through the clips, making the usual marks for the editor. But this time, it took longer because you kept getting distracted by your ex.

You hesitated to answer your girlfriend's question. Part of you felt like you should tell her about Elisa, but another part of you just wanted to forget about her all over again. Casey knew a little about you dating someone in France and breaking up due to incompatibility, but she had no idea that Elisa was your ex.

"Uh, just out of it today," you said, giving Casey a weak smile.

She patted you on the back. "It’s okay. Why don’t we go out tonight on a date? Dinner at your favorite Mexican place?"

You smiled back and nodded. She leaned in and gave you a kiss before going back to help the crew.

You sighed. The kiss reminded you that you should have moved on. You had a girlfriend who was hardworking, amazing, and gorgeous. You had a great job that you loved. Sure, it didn’t pay amazingly, but Casey made enough for you two to live comfortably and happily. You were living the life you’d always wanted.

The life you thought you would have… with Elisa.

You shook away all thoughts of her, cursing the thought of her again. Why did she have to go and ruin things? Everything was going perfectly, and then here she comes.

You shut your laptop, deciding you’d had enough of reviewing the footage. You figured you’d rather deal with annoyed editing staff than to keep marking and reviewing footage of your ex.

Suddenly, someone came bolting into the conference room. It was the Dutch girl, Jackie. "Hey, I’m so sorry," she said to the staff. "Has anyone seen an orange power bank? I think I might have left it here."

Your eyes moved to the orange power bank Casey had set aside beside you, thinking it belonged to Gina or the crew. "Oh, is it this?" you asked, holding up the power bank.

She beamed and walked over. "Yes, thank you!" She took the charger from you and exhaled in relief. "How can I repay you?"

"Oh, it’s nothing!" you replied, smiling.

"Really? Why don’t you come over to our team hangout later?" she suggested brightly. "We usually have a small get-together with a few drinks and games whenever we visit another country for friendlies. It’s pretty casual—like college all over again… but more tame."

You knew that was the last thing you needed, especially since you were sure Elisa would be there. You shook your head. "I’d love to, but my girlfriend and I are going on a date tonight. I’ve been craving Mexican food, and we haven’t had a date night in so long."

"Oh no," she pouted. "That’s too bad. If you change your mind, your producer has my number."

You gave a polite nod and bid the Dutch girl farewell as she left. You sighed. As much as Jackie was total friend material, you didn’t want to risk being anywhere near Elisa again.

"Those girls seem like good fun, don’t they?" Somehow, the topic of football and the PSG girls managed to sneak its way into your dinner date with Casey, much to your chagrin. "Especially Jackie! She seemed to like you a lot. You think she has a crush on you?"

You laughed at your girlfriend’s teasing. "Jackie? Groenen? Baby, you really don’t know anything about football because I think she might be one of the straightest women’s football players to exist." You replied. "Actually, I think most of the girls we interviewed are straight."

Casey hummed as she chewed her on her fajitas. "I’m pretty sure that Elisa girl isn’t, though. She looked gay as hell." She commented with a chuckle.

You hummed in silent agreement, just wanting to steer clear of the topic of your ex-girlfriend. "Hmm, is your food good?" You asked.

She chuckled. "Well, yeah, this is what I always get here, so it’s still good," she replied, confused as to why you were suddenly asking. "Anyway, you really didn’t know those girls? Or anyone from their team? Weren’t you in some youth league?"

You shook your head. "It was short-lived. I was pretty good at the sport, but I just… was focused on writing most of the time. After my short football stint, I got way more invested in journalism workshops and all that stuff.” You said, avoiding answering the question about knowing anyone in the team. "Besides, most the girls we met earlier aren’t French nationals."

"Oh yeah, except Elisa." Casey nodded, making you wince again. "I heard Jackie inviting you to their party. Why’d you say no? I was kind of expecting you to agree… y'know, bring back memories of your French days or something."

You shook your head. "No, no, tonight’s date night. You already asked me before she did."

Casey furrowed her eyebrows at your excuse. "You know I’d be cool with a change of plans, but yeah, she seemed eager to be friends with you."

You nodded. "Yeah, to be honest, I feel like we’d get along and be good friends. The vibes, y'know." You replied. "Anyway, let’s talk about what you’re going to do for your mom and dad’s 50th anniversary."

You successfully steered the topic away from Jackie, football, and most importantly, your ex. Soon, Casey and you were busy laughing and bantering about other things.

After Casey paid the bill, she hummed. "I kinda still don’t wanna go home yet," she remarked. "You mind getting some dessert or a drink? I just want to extend the date longer. Y'know, make it feel like our first date all over again."

You smiled at your girlfriend. She was always the sweet, romantic type. Even though Casey was very hardworking and dedicated to her career, it always seemed like you were her number one priority. Your happiness always came first to her.

You felt guilty at times with the way you spent most of your time focusing on your career but Casey was incredibly understanding and accommodating. Every opportunity you had free time, she’d snatch it up and plan something romantic for the two of you — vacations, dates, new experiences. You were lucky with Casey.

You couldn’t help but contrast it with your ex, Elisa, who always seemed to postpone all your dates just to focus on football. When you were together, your relationship never seemed to be her priority. You couldn’t blame her; she knew what she wanted and had to pour all her energy towards it. And… she got it all.

She was now the big-time defender of a major league and the French national team. She was pretty much a name all women’s football fans knew at this point. She made a name for herself.

She got everything she wanted, and so did you. It was just weird how fate worked out, forcing your paths to cross again for just a moment, as if to show you both what you had achieved now that you were apart.

"Babe?" You snapped back to reality. Casey chuckled. "You zoned out."

"Oh, sorry, I just realized I forgot to mark the clips from earlier." You excused yourself. "But yeah, drinks kinda sound good."

She smiled. "Great."

Hand-in-hand, the two of you walked to a bar near the Mexican restaurant; you had always frequented the same bar since your first date. So, naturally, it was a nostalgic place; it was exactly what you needed to remind yourself of how lucky you were with Casey. It was better to reminisce about old memories of your current girlfriend than old memories of your ex.

But as you arrived at the venue, the staff stopped you almost immediately. "Oh no, we're closed for today," the waitress at the door said. "Private event."

Casey frowned. "Oh? Can’t we just sit by the bar?" she asked. "You know us, we’re here every weekend. We’ll behave.”

The waitress gave a sympathetic smile. "Yeah, of course, I know my regulars, but this party requested no outsiders today," she said. "Hollywood, you know how it is."

You peered into the bar, expecting to see celebrities, but instead… you saw the Paris Saint-Germain girls eating, doing karaoke, and laughing with each other and a bunch of their friends. Damn.

"Wait, isn’t that Jackie?" Casey said, and as if on cue, the Dutch girl looked in your direction.

She smiled widely and rushed to the door. "You guys made it!" she said in disbelief. “I didn’t get a text from you so I thought you wouldn’t come.”

You blinked nervously. "No, no!" you exclaimed almost too quickly. "Uh, we're regulars here at this bar, and we just stopped by after our. It was a total coincidence. I’d hate to interfere. We’re going to go now."

You grabbed Casey's arm, but she remained unmoving. "Babe, weren’t you just saying that you wanted to be friends with Jackie?"

"Oh my god. I feel the exact same way! Please stay! Let’s all be friends." The Dutch insisted, dragging you inside the bar. You politely nodded but felt the gnawing feeling of instant regret. You had to get out of here.

As soon as Jackie was tad out of earshot, you turned to your girlfriend. "Casey, I'm not feeling that sociable right now. Can we just go?" you whispered.

She looked confused but nodded. "Uh? Okay, if you really don’t wanna stay." she replied. "But I kinda do have to pee. Is it okay if I go? You can have a quick drink, then after I go piss, let's just discreetly leave?"

You sighed but nodded. As soon as your girlfriend left for the restroom, Jackie brought some of the girls over to meet you, introducing you as if you’d been longtime friends.

"This is Y/N. She’s a writer. She was the one who did our interview a while ago and it was so much fun. Also, she lived in France before too," she said to the girls you were just meeting. She turned to you. "Tu as joué au football en France avant, n'est-ce pas ?" (You played football in France too, right?)

"Pas professionnellement," you replied. "Only for fun."

The girls were friendly and accommodating, but your attention was divided since you noticed that Elisa had taken note of your presence. As you were trying to be active in conversation, the sight of her just meters away kept distracting you.

Elisa was wearing an oversized black shirt and jeans. It was her usual laid-back look, but something about the effortlessness was so attractive.

She made her way to you, casually. "Hello, interviewer, what brings you here?" She tried to sound casual, but you could see there was a lot going on behind her eyes. "Tu es là pour nous interviewer à nouveau, hein?" ("Are you here to interview us again?")

You laughed lightly. "No, no, c’est une coïncidence." You smiled at the other girls, who politely excused themselves; they seemed to have lost interest in your conversation once one of the other players began loudly singing Eye of the Tiger with a very strong accent. You were now left with Elisa.

Great, you thought. This is what I least wanted to happen.

"It really is a coincidence, huh?" She gave you a weak smile, seemingly amused at the situation you both were put into by some grand cosmic prank. "So… you're staying for drinks?"

"No, my girlfriend and I are leaving after she’s done," you replied truthfully.

"Oh," she said before you two were awkwardly silent again. You picked at the hem of your blouse. She glanced at you, looking at how much you’ve changed since she last saw you. Your hair was longer. Your style was different. But to her, you were just as beautiful as the last time you two were together.

"Uh, I think I'll go to the bar and just order something, and I'll wait there." You said, trying to excuse yourself. “You can go back to the party. I don’t wanna keep you from your friends.”

She nodded. "Okay, I'll tell them to put it on our tab."

You made your way to the bar as the French girl followed you. "No, no, not necessary," you said. “I’ll take care of it.”

She chuckled. "Come on, we've got a big budget for tonight, and virtually none of these girls are drinking any alcohol, so you might as well have a drink on us." She insisted, and as you two made your way to the bartender, she nodded as if to signal you to order.

Knowing Elisa and her hardheadedness, you acquiesced. "Uh, a mojito please."

Elisa chuckled. You turned to look at her with a questioning glance. She maintained a safe distance but moved a bit closer to speak in a lower tone. She bit her lip, looking a tad nervous.

“Un mojito… toujours ton choix,” she said, her voice carrying a familiar warmth. She looked up to you and flashed you the smile you knew all too well. "Some things really don’t change.”

The words felt heavy. You took a moment to process what she had said. The bartender gave you your drink with a smile, and you returned a smile of gratitude for the drink and the fact that you knew they couldn’t understand a thing Elisa was saying.

You took a sip. "Oui, certaines choses ne changent pas," you said, affirming her statement. "But also, a lot has changed too." Your words lingered. You wanted to say so much more, but it felt like it was all you could manage in this moment.

Elisa's smile faded, replaced by a more vulnerable look. “Je vois ça,” she said quietly, studying you with a softness you remembered all too well. "C’est presque… étrange de te revoir comme ça.” (It’s almost… strange to see you like this again.)

You let out a breath, glancing down at her drink. You swirled your drink, watching the ice clink around in your glass. “On aurait peut-être dû éviter ça, non?” (Maybe we should have avoided this, huh?)

Elisa paused, then shook her head. “Je ne sais pas. Peut-être que je voulais juste savoir… si tu allais bien.” (I don’t know. Maybe I just wanted to know… if you’re doing okay.)

You felt the familiar ache in your chest, a mix of longing and regret. “Je vais bien, Elisa,” you said softly, but you could feel your voice shake. You couldn't help but feel tears form in your eyes. You blinked a couple times to prevent it. You looked away. "Mais toi… tu as changé?" (But you… have you changed?)

Elisa hesitated, her gaze lowering for a moment. “J’ai essayé,” she nodded and responded softly, barely above a whisper. "Mais certaines choses restent." (But some things stay the same.)

For a brief moment, neither of you spoke. The noise of the bar faded into the background as you both avoided each other's gaze. You felt the air around you get heavy. It was weird being alone like this to her, saying so little yet revealing so much. It kinda felt wrong being together like this. You took a swig of your drink.

She chuckled out of nowhere, making you at her. "It's funny, noh?" she said, switching back to English once the bartender left to attend to some things in the kitchen. "Seeing each other after so long?"

She practically echoing your thoughts in a more succinct way. You stayed silent, feeling impatient and wondering why your girlfriend was taking so long. Elisa must have noticed your eyes flicker to the bathroom.

"That was your girlfriend, yes?" she asked. “The tall brunette?”

You bit your lip. "Yeah, that's her."

She nodded and awkwardly played with her own glass, swirling what looked like juice around. "Been together long?"

"Almost two years," you responded curtly ith a nod.

She hummed in response, raising her eyebrows as if in slight disbelief. "She seems good for you," she commented.

You nodded. “She is,” you said softly. "I’m happy." But even as you said it, it seemed to lack conviction. You knew you were happy. You were the happiest you've been, but somehow, your voice was soft as you said it. You felt like your own voice and body language was betraying you.

Elisa exhaled and nodded slowly, her fingers fidgeting with her glass. "C’est tout ce que je voulais pour toi," she murmured before looking up at you. (That’s all I ever wanted for you.)

The two of you locked gazes. You felt a pang in your heart as she said it. She sounded so sure of herself, yet her voice couldn't help but be laced with a tinge of regret and pain. It felt like such a loaded message partnered with the way her eyes were piercing yours.

You swallowed, feeling yourself soften. “Elisa…” you began, unsure of what exactly you wanted to say, only that you didn't want this moment to end on an unfinished note.

But before she could continue, Casey called your name, waving you over. You noticed that your girlfriend had already left the restroom and was being roped into karaoke.

You smiled weakly at the sight of your clueless girlfriend and gave her a wave as you watched her be coaxed into singing by the French girls.

You gave Elisa a small, regretful smile. “I should go before they make Casey sing. God knows that's the last thing anyone wants to hear," you said, attempting to joke. "But… it was good to see you.”

Elisa's expression shifted into something more guarded, but she nodded. "Yes… you too." Her voice trembled, just for a moment.

You took a last swig of your drink, leaving it at the counter, before rescuing your girlfriend from the mic. You gave a short but polite farewell to Jackie and everyone else.

As you were leaving, Elisa stayed at the counter, sitting down and taking a sip of her own drink. You bit your lip and focused on making your way out of the bar.

You thought you closed your chapter with Elisa years ago when you broke up and left France. And earlier, you thought you closed that chapter again after one last chance meeting. Now, you wanted to make sure it was done and sealed. You were closing the book and never looking back again.

But you couldn't help it.

Just as you were about to exit, you took one last glance to capture a sight of your ex-girlfriend with her head in her hands, looking more devastated than when you broke up with her.

a/n: this was a pretty long first chapter. this is my first time writing angst so i hope i’m doing alright. i also included a bit of french which might be all wrong and weird tbh since i only had one semester’s worth of french and google translate by my side. correct me if it’s wrong. just sharing a bit of writing lore but i actually got this idea after watching copious amounts of football content on youtube and some edits on woso tiktok to the doomsday verse… which inspired this fic and the title!!!!

anyway, reply if you want to be tagged once i post part 2! (also happy balon d’or day!!!! so excited cause i just know it’s between cgh and aitana!)

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Emotions Pt 2 | Sam Winchester x Angel!Fem!Reader

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Angel!Reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI 18+ ONLY!!!, cunnilingus, p in v (wrap it before you tap it), discussions of grief

Word Count: 3110

A/N: Hi! Trying to work on my requests to give myself a bit of an escape from what’s going on in my personal life right now. I am combining requests I was getting for a part 2 to my Sam x Angel!Reader fic with another request from much later in the queue, so I did have to jump around in the order of my fic requests! I hope that’s okay! 

General Writings Masterlist

Pt 1

If you thought humans were strange and intriguing before, being human was even stranger. Your existence had been predictable before you met Sam Winchester. And now, you were feeling and experiencing multitudes you hadn’t known to be possible. Navigating the full scape of human emotion was incredibly difficult and draining at times. Thoughts you’d never had emotion assigned to would cross your mind at random times of the day. And suddenly, you’d be sniffling and trying to control the tears forming in your eyes. 

Sam had gotten good at navigating these moments with you. He would talk about your feelings with you very openly and share some of his own. 

The first time you realized that Sam would one day die, possibly leaving you on earth alone, you were horrified. 

“What’s wrong?” Sam asked, seeing you trying to hold back tears while staring at the ground. 

“You’re gonna die one day,” you said plainly. 

“Uh, yeah,” he snorted. “Yeah, I am.”

“It’s not funny,” you snapped, eyes flashing to his. 

He shook his head. “I know, I know, I’m sorry.” He sat down on the chair across from you. “Just caught me off-guard, ‘s all,” Sam replied. “What brought that on?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. It just… came over me all of a sudden. Does that not scare you?”

He considered for a moment. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Why not?” you asked. 

“ ‘Cause somebody told me Heaven’s real—” he nudged your knee with his, making you huff out a small laugh— “and maybe I’ll get to see my mom. Actually meet her.”

“But what am I supposed to do?” you asked.

Sam stared at you for a moment. 

“You’re my best friend, Sam. What am I supposed to do if you die first?” you asked, eyes becoming glassy again.

“What you did before me,” he replied simply. “You just gotta keep going.”

“No offense, Sam, but you’ve been a complete mess without Dean.”

“That’s different. He’s my brother,” Sam said. 

Your gaze was soft, but it held intensity. So much so that it made Sam squirm beneath it. 

“What?” he asked. 

“I don’t think it’s different,” you sniffed. “I just think it’s— oh, what’s that word— grief.”

Sam couldn’t bring himself to look at you. 

“And I think that because you know what you know, you’re convinced that there’s some way to bring him back. And because you can’t do it, you’re not allowing yourself to accept the grief. You’re just… kinda… stuck,” you finished. 

A heavy silence blanketed the air. 

“Y’know, for an angel with zero understanding of human emotion, that was pretty good,” the young man chuckled.

A genuine smile spread across your face.

****

Even with Dean gone, you could see Sam starting to heal. You hoped you played a large part in that. However, you were growing curious as to why you hadn’t heard the angels talking about Castiel retrieving Dean. What were they waiting on?

Ruby hadn’t shown her face, either, much to your surprise. You assumed she could feel that you were here and decided to make herself scarce. A wise choice on her part, if you did say so yourself. 

Sam’s demon blood addiction would sometimes cripple him. On those days where his withdrawals or cravings would get bad, you would sit on the couch or the kitchen floor with his head in your lap and allow him to cry or sleep until the pain subsided. Sometimes, he’d get angry with himself for not being strong enough to push through the affliction on his own, to which you’d remind him that not many humans survive demon blood addiction as well as he had.

“It fucking hurts, (Y/N),” Sam told you, shivering beside you. Sweat beaded at every pore, and his face was flushed. 

You held a wet rag to the back of his neck while he clutched at your knee.

“I know, Sammy—”

“Why didn’t you just let me have it? Maybe I could find Lilith if you’d just—”

You cut him off, trying not to get angry with him. “Sam, no.”

“—But (Y/N)—”

“No.” You pushed yourself off the couch and turned to sit on the ground so that you were eyelevel with him. “I will not let you do that to yourself again. Do you hear me?”

Sam grimaced with watery eyes, but he nodded. 

“I— I can’t watch that happen to you,” you said, tears catching in your throat. It was surprising to find yourself unable to express yourself evenly and coherently as you always had, but your emotion seemed to help you get through to Sam more. 

The other angels had no idea what they were missing. 

***

When you were an angel, you truly didn’t have an internal dialogue. And now, your mind was flooded with constant thought. Occasionally, it was burdensome, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

Before, all you had was experience and memory. It was as if you were entirely continuous with your environment, and you took everything around you at surface value. There was no internal reflection. 

“That’s called ‘sonder’,” Sam explained to you. 

“What is?” you asked, temporarily looking away from the river below you. 

You’d discovered a creaky, wooden bridge over a rushing stream on a walk through the forest with Sam. 

“What you just said. Realizing that everybody has their own experiences, and thoughts, and lives entirely separate from yours,” he continued.

You gently kicked your feet back and forth over the edge of the bridge with your arms crossed over the railing in front of you. Sam sat beside you, watching you. “Does it ever get overwhelming?” you asked him, thinking maybe you were the only one feeling so burdened by thought as a result of your new status as a human. 

“What?” Sam asked. 

“Feeling. Thinking,” you elaborated, unable to look at him out of fear that he may judge you.

“Yeah, frequently.” He nodded, a slight smile on his lips. “But, uh, certain things make it better.”

That caught your attention, as his tone sounded a bit loaded. “What things?”

He kept his gaze down but nudged your shoulder with his. “Certain angels.”

A wide smile spread across your face. “Certain Sam Winchesters make it better for me, too.”

He returned your expression. 

***

The fall months were upon you. The cabin you stayed in with Sam was where you first discovered what “warmth” was as you sat by the fire. Now, though, a different feeling encompassed you. 

It started slowly; ignorable, almost. First, small little bumps formed on your arms while you brought the trash out to the dumpster about a mile away from the cabin. Then, you felt like the wind was blowing through your body. You tried your hardest to ignore the feeling, but soon, it felt like your insides were shaking. 

It freaked you out, to say the least. And when you lifted the lid of the dumpster to put your trash inside, your fingers were blue. In fact, you almost couldn’t feel them at all. 

“What the fuck,” you muttered. 

Afraid of what was happening to you, you began running all the way back to the cabin. When you nearly broke the door down with your entry, Sam jumped to his feet. “Whoa, (Y/N), what the hell?”

You were panting, hunched over, and panicking. “Something— is happening…” you swallowed thickly, “to me.”

Sam rushed over to you, bending down to your level and tucking your hair behind your ear. “What? Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so,” you breathed out. You looked down at your fingertips and realized they weren’t blue anymore. “Wait, where’d it go?”

You and Sam both straightened up, and you continued to search your fingers for the discoloration. 

“Where’d what go?” Sam questioned. 

“My— My fingers were blue just a minute ago,” you explained. 

“Blue?” he repeated.

You nodded. “And my insides were shaking.”

A small smile began to pull at the ends of Sam’s lips. “Did you also have little bumps on your arms?”

Your eyes snapped to his. “How’d you know that?”

“You’re a seraph. You’ve been around for forever, and you got scared of the wind?” Sam asked. 

“The wind didn’t do that to me,” you said pitifully, “it’s never done that before.”

Sam laughed. 

“It’s not funny,” you pouted grouchily. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Sam continued. “You just got cold, (Y/N).”

You furrowed your brow. 

“Here,” the brunet continued. He opened the door for you, and you walked out of it hesitantly. The first of the Autumn leaves had fallen to the ground and crunched under your feet as you made your way out. 

Sam followed behind, and the two of you stood beside each other silently. You looked up at the trees rustling in the wind, and small wisps of your hair began to lift away from your face. And then, you felt the little bumps forming on your arms again. You looked down, a little less afraid this time. 

“See? Just the wind,” Sam explained. 

Then, a shiver ripped down your spine, and your body began to shake from the feeling. 

“C’mon, let’s get you inside,” he said. Once you were, Sam offered you the jacket that was laying on the back of a chair in the kitchen. You wrapped yourself in it while he continued to tend the fire. 

“It’s probably gonna get cooler tonight, too,” he explained, dusting his hands off and standing from the ground. “This room’s the only one with heat in it.” 

Your eyes widened in worry, as your shivering hadn’t stopped even with the jacket wrapped around you. 

Sam chuckled with fondness at your expression. “You can take my bed.”

“But won’t you be cold, too?” you asked through your clattering teeth. 

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about me.” Off your look, he continued. “Seriously. I’m kinda a human furnace.”

“C’mere, then,” you asserted. 

The brunet seemed caught off-guard. 

“Please?” you begged. “I’m still cold.”

Hesitantly, he sat on the couch beside you and opened his arms to you. You shuffled across the couch to where you were curled into his chest between his outstretched legs. Sam relaxed against the arm of the couch and wrapped his strong arms around you.

With a look that almost bordered on pleading, you pulled back from his chest and stared up at him. His eyes seemed to almost search your face before he began to lean down toward you. Feeling a sudden surge of confidence, you leaned up to press your lips to his. 

Sam immediately groaned at the contact, and you threaded your fingers through his hair while his hands explored the curves of your waist. When his hand grazed the underside of your breast, you took in a sharp breath. 

Immediately, Sam broke the kiss. “Is this okay?”

Without breaking eye contact, you grabbed his hand and brought it to your breast. An intense lust clouded his eyes, and Sam pulled your head back toward his while he kneaded your breast in his hand. 

Heat flooded your thighs, and you were a bit overwhelmed by the feeling. Your breath quickened as you allowed Sam to push your shirt up over your head. 

He broke the kiss again only to say, “Bed, now.”

You nodded eagerly, pressing your lips back against his. He took your legs and wrapped them around his waist. With you pressed so closely to him, you subconsciously began to grind against him as he carried you over to his bed in the corner of the room. He gently laid you on the bed and pressed his forehead to yours, panting. “You can’t— You can’t do that.”

“What?” you asked timidly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Sam shook his head, still trying to catch his breath. “No, no, you’re fine. But I’m not gonna be able to hold back if you keep doing that.”

Hesitantly, you planted your feet on the bed on either side of his hips and began to grind up into him. 

A challenge in Sam’s eyes, he leaned back down to kiss you with an unrivaled passion. His hands roamed your torso, careful to avoid the band of your sweatpants. Gently, he ran his hands along the band of your bra. “Can I take this off?”

You nodded feverishly, breath quickening. As soon as he’d gotten it off, Sam began to kiss down your chest while kneading your breasts in his hands. He continued to kiss down your stomach, nipping at the soft flesh every once in a while. When he was eye-level with your clothed pussy, he asked, “Can I take these off?” running his hands over your clothed hips. 

You nodded, but Sam could tell something was wrong. “What is it?” He straightened up. 

“I’ve just never done this before,” you said honestly. 

“It’s okay,” Sam told you. “If you wanna stop, we can stop.”

You quickly shook your head “no.” “Don’t stop, please.”

He chuckled and began to take your sweatpants and underwear down your hips slowly, teasingly. 

“Please, Sam,” you said. “I don’t know what this feeling is, but I need you here.” You took his hand and brought it near your throbbing cunt. 

He took in a sharp breath, almost seeming unable to contain himself. “Can I touch you?” he asked. 

You nodded eagerly, and he pulled your hips closer to the edge of the bed before dragging his fingers through your folds. You keened while his long, thick fingers circled your clit. He then pulled your thighs toward his face and dove between them, lapping at your clit like a man starved. Your hands flew to his head, and he grabbed them, lacing your fingers together. Sam held your hands on either side of your body, gently stroking them with his thumbs in contrast to the fierceness he was eating you out with. 

“God, Sam!” you cried, grinding your hips into his face. That simply spurred him on more. 

Suddenly, what felt like a knot began to form in your lower stomach. “Wait, Sam,” you said, as the knot began to tighten. 

He pulled away from you, bringing his fingers back to your clit while he crawled over the top of you. “Uh-huh?” he asked. 

You continued to grind down onto his fingers, closing your eyes at the pleasurable feeling. “Something—” you bit your lower lip to keep yourself from crying out, “Something’s happening.”

Sam smiled. “Don’t worry, okay? It’s normal.”

You nodded breathlessly. “Okay.” 

Then, he started to insert his middle finger into you, pulling a sharp breath out of you. 

“I know,” he coaxed you. “But I gotta get you ready for me, okay?”

You nodded. 

“Words, (Y/N/N),” he asserted. 

“Okay,” you said shakily. 

Sam inserted one finger, and then, another. He began to move them in and out of you while putting pressure on your clit with the heel of his hand. The feeling was overwhelming, and you tried to close your legs around his hand. However, you were stopped by his body between your legs. 

The feeling continued to build and build, and you couldn’t hold back your cries anymore. A string of moans and curses left your mouth. 

“Just let it happen, okay? I’ve got you,” Sam told you. 

You nodded. 

“Words,” he demanded. 

“Yes, god, yes,” you replied. “Don’t stop,” you begged. 

He scissored his fingers inside of you, pushing you over the edge. The knot in your stomach snapped, and your core began to throb around his fingers. 

“God, Sam!” you cried out. “Fuck!” 

As your breathing began to slow, he asked, “You okay?” You nodded. “Yeah,” you breathed out. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he smirked lopsidedly. 

You looked down at the bulge in jeans, and you looked up at him wantonly. 

“No, no, this isn’t about me,” he told you. 

“But I wanna make you feel good,” you whined. 

“You already are,” Sam told you. 

You leaned up to pull his face down to yours, kissing him again to convey everything you felt for him in that moment. You helped him out of his jeans, and once he had a condom on, he began to line himself up at your entrance. 

“You sure you want this?” Sam asked. 

“Yes,” you nodded. “Please, I need it.”

Slowly but surely, he began to push into you. He put his elbows on either side of your head, allowing you to curl your nails into his back with the pressure you were feeling inside of you. 

“I’m sorry, I know it’s uncomfortable,” he told you.

You shook your head, bringing your hands to either side of his face and kissing him deeply. Sam used that opportunity of distraction to push himself all the way inside, causing both of you to moan into each other’s mouths. 

Once he’d ensured you adjusted, he began to thrust into you. Sam’s movements were slow and deep, allowing you to feel every inch and ridge of his cock. You closed your eyes and dropped your head back in pure euphoria as he began to pick up his pace, bringing both of you closer to your climaxes. 

When you felt the knot beginning to form in your stomach again, you brought your hand to your clit and rubbed circles over it. Sam, having none of it, pushed your hand aside and mimicked the motion himself, allowing you to rake your nails up and down his back. Between the feeling of him thrusting inside of you and the pressure on your clit, the knot inside you snapped. 

With a keening cry, you moved your hips in time with histo ride out your high while Sam rode out his. The two of you breathed heaving breaths, allowing time for both of you to come down.

When the both of you were cleaned up and thoroughly spent, Sam held you against his chest while you drew invisible patterns on his upper chest. 

With a smile tugging on the ends of his lips, Sam asked, “You still cold?”

Taglist for Emotions:

@slutforfictionalcharacterss @criminalmindsiscool @littledebbieinabigworld

Forever tags are open; Series Rewrite taglist is closed!! :) Requests are open!

[archangeldyke-all]

could you write about sevika taking care of a sick reader? i’m immunocompromised and have been sick for like a month now and it’s really taking a toll on my mental health. would love to indulge myself by pretending that sevika is taking care of me hehe! thank you so much, your tumblr is such a safe space ❤️

of course i can <333 i hope this helps you feel a little better baby

men and minors dni

i'm just thinking about how nice and warm her big, calloused palm would be pressed against your forehead while she's checking on you. it's just a habit. she's not checking your temperature or anything, it's just how she shows her care, a big hand to your forehead, gently pushing your hair out of your face, sometimes sweeping down to cup your cheek. (god it'd feel so nice during a headache too.)

she'd be doing tiny little modifications around the house to make life easier for you. a stool in the shower to sit when you get too hot; another one at the counter so you don't have to stand while cooking; tiny trashcans next to your side of the bed and your favorite chair and the couch so you can be outside the bathroom when you're feeling nauseous; and sleeves of saltines everywhere. everywhere.

sevika doesn't get quaesy easily, and bodily fluids don't bother her much. she's always be right by your side while your getting sick (no matter what end it's coming out of, even if it's both) gently rubbing your back and wiping your mouth for you as you groan and gasp for air.

if you guys are in public you can bet your ass sevika's got her pockets loaded with anything and everything you might need.

suddenly feeling hot? sevikas cracking an ice pack for you, wrapping it in her jacket and holding it to your forehead. cold? she's got a heating pack in her back pocket too, hold on...

oh, you're hungry, but you can't keep food down? good thing sevika's brought some oyster crackers. you throw up in the bathroom? sevika's got a mini mouthwash for you.

i'm telling you, babe, she's got you covered.

she would never make you feel bad or shitty about being sick. if you're out and need to go home-- sevika's taking you home right away. if you've got plans but a migraine comes on, sevika's calling to get the food from the resturant you'd had reservations at delivered, then closing the blackout curtains and crawling into bed beside you.

and when you're feeling shitty and betrayed by your body-- sevika's always the person to remind you how incredible you are. how much she loves you, how funny, and resilient, and bright you are, that your laugh is like music, and that to her you glow even when you're mid fever and haven't showered in three days. and even though this speech from her always makes you cry, it's always good tears, and it always makes you feel better.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re

@raphaellearp

[silent-stories]

Never have I ever...been in love

(Eddie Munson x F!reader)

You dangled your legs off the roof of Eddie's trailer as the sun slowly sank on the horizon, painting the sky different shades of pink and orange.

The boy sitting next to you brought the cigarette he was holding between his fingers to his mouth and blew out a cloud of smoke from his nose, which the cool but not excessively cold breeze of that evening immediately blew away.

The shirt he'd refused to put on after the shower he'd taken before going up there lay beside him, even though you'd insisted that if he didn't put on clothes he'd catch a cold, and his bare chest rose and fell as he let smoke in and out of his mouth.

"Never have I ever…hurt myself trying to be funny." You said.

You always found it fun to play that game with Eddie, every time you discovered new things about each other even though it's been several years since you've been playing it. You knew the original version probably involved alcohol but the point of hanging out with Eddie wasn't to get drunk.

The rule was to always tell the truth, as if you were using one of those lie detectors they only used on criminals you saw on TV but sometimes you found yourself wondering if Eddie had ever told you a lie during that game that maybe you had become too old for playing.

Eddie chuckled. "I bet you already know the answer."

The light from the day's last rays of sunlight reflected off his brown eyes, making them appear to be a hundred different shades of gold.

"Oh I know, but I want to hear it from you." You laughed, thinking about what had happened that morning several years ago when you were both little more than children.

"That tree was obviously unstable, it wasn't my fault!"

"That tree was unstable but you tried to climb it anyway."

"Tried? I did it!"

"Yeah and then you fell. And you broke your wrist."

"Yeah but you took good care of by me afterwards. That's when I knew I wanted to keep you."

"Wait, you wanted to keep me? I wanted to keep you so you didn't end up in other similar situations and risk your life every two days."

Eddie laughed as he stubbed out his cigarette butt on the roof of the trailer before crossing one leg under the other, the tear at the knee of the faded old jeans he'd been wearing widening slightly as he did so.

"It's your turn." You said.

"I don't know...I feel like I already know everything about you."

"Then ask me something you don't know."

He didn't say anything, as if he was carefully choosing his next question and after a few moments of silence you wondered if he had decided that the game wasn't worth playing anymore.

The birds had stopped chirping and the trailer park kids who usually played outside had gone back to their homes.

"Never have I ever...been in love."

Your head spontaneously turned to him but he was staring straight ahead, where the sun was now almost completely gone. His hair still damp from the shower clung to his neck and forehead and there hadn't been a moment since he'd stepped out of the bathroom that you hadn't repressed the urge to reach over to brush the dripping strands from his forehead.

He was pretty, and there was never a moment in your life when you didn't think it.

And you absolutely were in love, probably not from the first moment you saw him because you were too young to know what love even was.

Now you knew.

But he was your best friend.

"No" You lied, "no, I don't think so."

Eddie didn't answer, continuing to stare at an indefinite point in front of him. No funny or sarcastic comments, no jokes.

"Eddie?"

"It's your turn." He didn't turn to you.

"Never have I ever..." you thought about it for a moment, you had nothing to lose, right? "been in love."

"It's not fair. That's what I asked." He chuckled under his breath.

"I don't think there's a rule against asking the same question." You shrugged.

Eddie rolled his eyes, then stayed silent for a few moments, as if thinking about it.

"Yeah." He ran a hand through his damp curls, "still am."

You have felt a strange sensation in the pit of your stomach and in your belly. I was a weird mix of fear and hope that you couldn't quite identify.

"Do they know?" You just wanted Eddie to be happy, you didn't care if he would break your heart.

"Nah."

"Why?"

Eddie snorted. "Because she doesn't like me that way."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because she's never even been in love."

Oh

Eddie turned to you, finding your surprised expression.

"Yeah." He chuckled, his laughter was colder and less genuine than usual, "Hella embarrassing isn't it? I've been waiting for days if not months for the right moment to ask that stupid question during this game and when I finally work up the courage, she tells me she's never been in love. I almost wish you'd told me you were head over heels for that basketball player who always sits next to you at every history lesson. Someone who deserves you. But like this? You make things even more hard because every time I'm around you I can't help but think about what it would be like-"

It was a way to stop his rambling, it was a way to tell him he was wrong, it was a way to tell him you had lied for the first time during the game.

Your lips were on his and your hand was finally in his still damp hair. It was short, a few seconds and it was already as if it had never been there.

"I thought... you said..." Eddie stammered, surprised. On his lips the ghost of a smile.

"I lied. I'm sorry, I fucking lied. It's you. It's always been you."

[abowlofsourcream]

⏳💫Switch a Loop: It’s not your Fault…💫⏳

Context: “Memory of Sailing” post!

* Everyone is at the Clock Tower.

*Siffrin seemingly went straight into bed after dinner, Bonnie followed shortly after him.

*However, the other’s stayed behind.

*They were right, Siffrin and the King are from that same island.

*They are one step closer to solving what is going on… But at what cost?

*Him choking on their own blood, being cradled by Odlie, reaching at the ceiling.

*For stars he couldn’t even see.

*Mirabelle is the first to speak…

Mirabelle: I… I shouldn’t have pushed him so much-

Isabeau: Mira, don’t even start.

*Isabeau holds both of her hands in his.

Isabeau: You couldn’t have known… None of us could…

*Odile taps the table, keeping her distance.

Odile: Yes, Mira… There is nothing you could have done.

Mirabelle: No! I should’ve have known! I should’ve known that Siffrin would have pushed themselves that hard! That even if it was killing them, he would do it!

*Tears welling up in her eyes.

Mirabelle: I… I… Just wanted to be able to helped them, like they… helped me…

*Mirabelle quietly begins to cry, Isabeau slowly pulling her into a hug.

*Odile frowns and looks away. She sighs.

Odile: I… I understand how you feel Mira… I really do.

* The two of them look at her, she continues.

Odile: You know… When Isabeau suggested having Siffrin help us with any “Unfinished Business” and how the two of us went on a “secret quest”. Do you know what we were looking for.

*The two of them looked confused, but later spooked their heads.

Odile: We were looking for a Familytale.

Isabeau: Oh yeah, you tried looking for one at the secret library… But, why are you saying this now?

*Odile nodded.

Odile: Well, It was when I figured out that he may have something to do with that disappeared island.

Mirabelle: O-Oh? How?

*Odile took a deep breath… In. And. Out.

Odile: W-well… We were talking about our upbringings… Well, I was at least- And he brought it up to comfort me.

Isabeau: Ha… Yeah, that’s Sif a’lright…

Mirabelle: Comfort you about what? I-If you don’t mind, Madame…

*Odile smiles at her.

Odile: Well, I’m actually Half-Vaugardian… Part of the reason why I’m here is to try to connect with that part of myself.

Odile: Asking you about your culture, your practices, even your food! Mirabelle, the way you were so passionate about your beliefs in the Change god… Isabeau, all of your wonderful insights of the town’s we’ve visited… Bonnie made food that I was interested in trying.

Odile: And Siffrin, knowing nothing about both Vaugarde or their own country, still comforted me.

*The two of them looked at her, quietly listening. She continued.

Odile: Ha! It’s funny… How even an old lady like me can still feel lost, hm? At least I still have Ka Bue I could returned to… A place, while not perfect, I could call home. They had nothing…

Odile: I guess part of the reason why I wanted to help him find more about the island was to repay him for his help… Or maybe the guilt, who knows.

Mirabelle: Madame… I- I never knew! You seemed so wise and sure of yourself. If anything, I thought you would have scolded me…

*Odile rest her hand on her shoulder, still smiling.

Odile: Like Isabeau says, you couldn’t have known. And… You are far more capable than you think you are and I am more than sure that you proved your worth…

*Odile awkwardly looks away.

Odile: Um… I not really good at communicating these kind of things…

*Mirabelle laughs, returning her smile.

Mirabelle: Your fine… Thank you, Odile.

Isabeau: Aww~! Group hug?

Odile: Don’t push it.

*They all laughed together.

*…

*But…

*…

[yikimiki]

Okay so like I have this request like is there any way you can make a smut with Eren x reader with the concept of this. Definitely Eren being the Ghost face from Scream or something 😜🥵 you can make up the story however you want boo

this message was like being struck by lighting… when I tell you I gasped when I saw this picture and I just knew I had to write it

⚠️ warnings: dark content, mentions of gore and murder, smut, very heavy dub-con, crying, creampie, reader doesn’t get to finish, ghostface!eren x fem!reader (though his identity isn’t revealed so), eren is literally a psychotic killer so you know what you’re in for

—

“You know what’s funny?” He asks, then laughs — a resounding, muffled laugh like it’s actually funny. Like you’re not crying for your life right now, thinking about everyone you’ve lost so quickly, so harshly. “That I’ve always wanted them dead… pictured it every single day…” Your panties are thrown to the side like they mean nothing, shoved through the hole he had torn in your fishnets earlier. “But you… I’ve never wanted you dead. I’ve always wanted you like this.”

The ground is merciless and cold beneath your body, and there’s not an ounce of fight left in you. Your lungs have stopped working fully now, driven by exhaustion, and the adrenaline is doing little to make your heart work properly. There are cuts all over your arms and one dangerously close to your carotid, though not deep enough to threaten you life. That man, that… demon had caused them earlier. Right before he slaughtered your friends and brought you to the cellar of this disgusting house.

“You were always better than them, I think you know that,” the voice speaks on — though the timbre seems familiar, that stupid ghost mask is too thick for you to recognize it. Could be anyone. The man’s gloved hands spread your thighs apart and you let him — maybe if you comply he will be merciful in his killing. “That’s why I wanted to have you all for myself. I saved the best for last… my little reward, if you will.

“Why…” you hiccup. The stench of blood is all over you, there is still wet blood — your friend’s wet blood — on your white blouse, and it sticks to your chest as the man tears it open. Your breasts are exposed to the cool air and he palms one, humming at the feeling. “Why are you doing this?”

His head tilts to the side. “I did it all for you, obviously.”

That answer manages to shock you more than the entire night had been able to. You had seen your friends, people you have met since primary school, being cut and shot like it meant nothing — throats slit, guts stabbed, so much blood that you couldn’t even imagine someone could bleed that much. You had heard their screams, their pleads, and, yet, that simple revelation that it had all been for you makes you freeze.

No one has ever done so much for you. He must really care.

You speak up again when he’s pushing the head of his cock inside your pussy. You’re wet — and you hate yourself for finding that situation a little enticing. “You did it for me?” You ask. The man groans like he hates having to talk about it right then.

“I’d do anything for you— fuck…” he gasps when he slips in fully, his heavy member filling you up so perfectly that you can’t help but whine — you feel so loved, so full. You must be special, you must be his muse. “Fuck, it’s even better than I imagined… shit.”

He starts shoving his thick cock inside you like it’s the last pussy he’ll ever have, and you can only melt under his harsh touches as he claims you bloody body like no one has ever done before. This is different — you just know it is. That stupid mask is staring at you, and you don’t even know what to think, but you know that he cares about you. You are alive, even though all your friends are dead. You are alive and their killer is fucking you… and you’re enjoying it. You must be just as sick as he is. You must’ve lost your mind somewhere between the sea of intestines and limbs, because there is no way you’re actually clenching around him, moaning like it’s your first time. There is no way.

He laughs again — and this time, you’re delirious enough to follow. “What a fucking whore you are, you’re loving this. Love being full of cock.”

“You did it for me,” you repeat, mind floating miles above the world. Maybe you’ve lost it, really. Maybe this is it. Maybe you’re bleeding out and you don’t even know it. “You did it for me…”

You roll your eyes back and you try to reach for him, but he’s quicker. He pulls your legs up by the ankles and presses his weight forward, folding you in half as his cock drills so deep inside you that you can’t even think straight. The sounds of wetness are so lewd, so overbearing, and the groaning and cursing coming from beyond the mask is driving you crazy. It becomes higher, more intense, growing into a feverish pace until it resounds into a loud grunt, and he’s spilling himself inside your pussy.

“Fuck, that’s a good little slut,” he says, breathlessly. You wince as he keeps fucking his cock inside you, pushing his cum out as you moan for more. “I might keep you around a little longer, fuck, I don’t think I can get rid of this pussy so soon.”

“W-Who are you?” You ask, dazed. You feel loved, used, everything at once. “Why did you do this for me?”

You can’t see his face, but you can hear the smile in his voice as he answers. “Well, that just ruins the fun, doesn’t it?”

[miscreantroses]

you (Zoro x Reader)

genre: fluff

"Why are you avoiding me?" Zoro asks for the nth time for this day. "Can you just talk to me?"

"I'm not. Leave me alone." You walk past by him as he tries to catch up to you. This had been going for a while eversince the crew left Wano.

He grabs your hand, and faces you. "You are. You've been interacting with the whole crew but when it comes to me. You just acted like I'm not here."

You went silent and managed to get away from his grasps. "I don't know what you're talking about." You turned back and walked away from him.

"I'm not done talking to you." Zoro shouts as you walk away from him and enters the kitchen. "Y/N!"

-----

"What?" You looked at Sanji as you enter the kitchen. " Didn't hear anything."

"Is it really necessary to avoid him at all costs?" Sanji sighs as he continued his meal prep. "He's fully aware of what you're doing."

You sit by the counter and taps the counter. "I know. It's just...." You can't seem to find the right words. "I just... ugh why do I like him?"

"Oh just confess to him already." Sanji stops his chopping at looked at you. "It can't go on like this forever."

"I've already got his...answer." You tried not to cry. "I just... God. Why..."

You clicked your tongue and started to tell Sanji what happened.

----

It was back in Wano and the fight with Kaido was over. You thought it was the right time to confess to Zoro. It wouldn't hurt right? But as you made your way to see him, you saw him that he was with Hiyori. You only heard from him that he didn't like "them". Assuming that it was you, you ran away and just decided not to confess.

"God, why do I like him." You sighed and faceplanted in the counter. "I should've kept it to myself."

"Oh so that explains why you gave Zoro the cold shoulder when we were about to leave Wano." Sanji replies. "I don't know...But that moss head."

As Sanji was about to tell something. You cut him off and stood up. "I don't care. I give up." You sighed as you make your way out of the kitchen. "It's better this way, no feelings."

You closed the door and Sanji lit up another cigaratte. "I wish you also knew that he likes you too."

----

Night falls and you were on nightwatch, you were staring out to the sea. You started to hum to pass the time.

"Oi." Zoro was standing behind you. Without second thought, you draw your weapon and pointed it at him. "It's just me... geez."

You lowered your weapon and turned away. "Oh, guess its your turn to keep watch." But as you walk away from him, he grabs your hand.

"This can't go on forever." He faces you once again, but this time his approach was gentler. You avoided his gaze and looked down. But he lifts up your chin to meet his gaze. "Look at me when I'm talking Y/N."

You close your eyes and hoping that this was just all a dream but you could feel his presence. You opened your eyes and looked back to his eyes. "Everything's fine, Zoro."

"You've been avoiding me." He started to speak up. "You've been declining my invitations to have a friendly spar."

"I'm not avoiding you." You replied. "I just... Okay fine. Yes, I've been avoiding you."

"But why?" He asks, he lets go but maintains a steady eye contact on you. "Did I do something to piss you off?"

Without second thought you just blurted out yes. "I just wished I didn't like you." Tears started to form and you tried to hold it back. "I just wished I didn't tried to find you that night to confess to you. I wished..."

You finally broke down and started to cry. Zoro holds your hand. "But I...do like you." He intertwines his fingers around yours. "Where do you even had the idea that I didn't liked you?"

You told him the night that you were about to confess and you just heard that you didn't like them from him. He tried to hold his laughter.

"What's so funny about that?!" You shouted and he's still trying not to laugh.

"I was referring to some sake that Hiyori gave to me." He says. "She brought a couple bottles of sake to try and I told her that I didn't like some of them."

Your face turned red at his confession and Zoro finally gave in and laughed. You tried to stand up and ran away from him but he pulled you in for a hug. "But really, Y/N. I like you, even though you're kind a bit dumb."

"Says the one who has no sense of direction." You retorted only for him to laugh even more.

He hugs you a bit tighter and whispers. "I guess that settles everything?" He places his chin on top of your head and rubs your back. "So you're done avoiding me already?"

You stayed silent and hummed in agreement. He smiled and continued to hug you. "Good, because I might've kissed you just to get your attention."

You looked up at him and kissed him on the cheeks. He suddenly turned red and you hid your face on his chest. "I..."

He smiles and lifts your chin and shared a passionate kiss. "I like you, Y/N." He brushes a strand of your hair. "Always remember that."

A/N: Just needed to get that out of my head. Gosh. Well... *sees another mountain of work* Help...

[lunarmoonanons]

Fire and Salt season 2 Chp 3

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Baela and Rhaena try to comfort the distraught girl, but nothing seems to help. We see the oath of brotherhood between the Northerner and the Targaryen.

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Masterlist

It was a jarring sight. Seeing the once strong, confident, charming princess reduced to a screaming crying mess. She looked a sight, scratches down her arms and face, hair wild and everywhere, eyes wet, wild, and raw with despair. The princess hated herself and her situation, wondering if she placed herself further between Vaghar and Aemond would her brother be alive? Every thought was a repetitive mess of what ifs and hatred. 

Sometimes Daemon would check on her. It had only been two and a half days since Luke had died. Her grandfather and grandmother had been away with their duties to their side of the war, but today she needed someone other than Daemon to talk to. She was spiraling and hurting very much. She wanted her mother, but Rhaenyra was out trying to find Luke’s body. So she sat on the floor in front of her fireplace, holding his shirt close to her. Weeping silently, she barely noticed her door opening and her cousins coming in. Baela and Rhaena sat on either side of her, looking empathetic at her. Baela placed a hand on her back, rubbing it up and down. She swallowed before attempting to speak to YN. 

“YN… I-” 

“Did you know… when Lucerys was learning to say our names he said mine first.” She wiped her cheeks and held his shirt closer. “I was so happy. He said it so eagerly.”

“That must’ve been very special to you.” Rhaena attempted to comfort her. 

“It was. Though, if I must be true, he barely could say the first part of it. I actually whispered my name it his ear so he would say my name before Jace’s.” YN laughed as tears pricked her eyes. 

Baela breathlessly laughed while Rhaena rested her head on YN’s shoulder. YN smiled sadly and looked to Rhaena, bringing one hand up to her cheek. She knew Rhaena felt heart broken over Luke’s passing. The two were close. 

“You know Lucerys loved you very much. He always talked to me about you. It’s funny, he was always speaking about others. He barely thought about himself and even then it was to compare himself to… He wanted to look like me. He never thought he was good enough to be my brother… But he was so beautiful. He was so…” YN couldn’t finish her ramble. Her thoughts and feelings led to Lucerys and her mind couldn’t wander away from him. 

“It’s not your fault. You must know that.” Baela tried to say, tried to comfort. 

“Yes it is. SeaSmoke is faster than Arrax. Was faster. I should’ve flown between them.” YN started to cry again. “My Luke. My baby…”

“YN… please you must find yourself.” Baela grabbed her hand that held his shirt. 

“I can’t. I’m not myself with him gone. I’m not.. Good like he was.” YN felt tears going down her face as she clutched the fabric tighter. “I can’t go out and kill Aemond, I can’t kill myself, so I’m stuck. Wasting away waiting for him to come back.”

YN started to moan in pain again, rocking back and forth so very slightly. She breathed through her teeth and let her tears fall down her light brown cheeks. Soothing the scratches she left on her face. Baela looked worried at her manic state. Rhaena lifted her head from her shoulder and brought her hand to the older girl’s face and tried to turn her head toward her. The girl looked away from the fire and toward Rhaena. 

“Your brother would not want you to waste away. You must eat, You must take care of yourself, You must not hurt yourself. Please YN. Think of what he’d want.” Rhaena tried to explain. Rhaena always knew what to say, to tell others what they should do. 

“I can’t. I’m… stuck.” YN shook her head. Rhaena wiped a tear from her cheek. “I am thankful you both are here but I must waste away. I failed to protect him. This is my punishment.”

“You can’t. I know you’re hurting but you must think of what he’d want.” Rhaena reassured. 

YN forced her head away from Rhaena and curled into herself. “He was so beautiful…” She cried and let out a high pitched whine. YN fell down to the floor and sobbed harder. The dragon twins looked to each other to decide what to do, wordlessly deciding that they should stay silent and just comfort her wordlessly. 

“I need to be alone.” YN whispered. “No… I need my mother. Where is she? It’s been a day. A day and a half. I need to tell her I’m at fault. I need her.. I need..” YN breathed out in pain. 

“She’ll come back. I know she will.” Baela said. 

The three stayed on the floor in front of the fireplace. Not knowing what to do. YN cried and cried, moaning in pain. Her silver white hair was out of place. She tried to cause harm to herself but Baela held down her hands before she could brace her nails against her skin. All YN could do was cry and moan about how she deserved to be hurt. How she deserved to be in pain for failing to protect her most precious person. 

~~~

Aemond paced about his room. He hadn’t felt calm since the incident. He knew he had messed up, monumentally messed up. He hadn’t meant to kill him. Maim him maybe, scare him definitely. Vhagar  was a war dragon and he should’ve known to not use her as a scare tactic. He felt so insulted by the Strong boy, his whole existence insulted him. But seeing YN in such a state troubled him. How she screamed, how she jumped from the safety of her dragon after her brother. He had done this. He drove her to insanity. For it was insanity to jump after a dead boy. To fall to the sea to find him. He hadn’t wanted that. 

He saw her face when it was said he’d marry the Baratheon girl. Anger. Not pain, anger. He never would’ve married her; he always wanted to marry YN. Planning to marry her when this civil skirmish was over. She said she’d marry him. She promised him she would always stay with him. Yes it was a promise of a child, but he always knew she kept her promises. 

He looked at the paper on his table. The same paper he wrote to her on. She hadn’t responded to his letter. He wasn’t foolish like his mother to believe that she would say anything to him. But a part of him hoped. A foolish part of him hoped she would respond. He would give her anything, anything she could ever want. If she’d only come to him and swear they would be together. 

His attention caught the carved wooden dragon she made him when they were seven. She told him that day that he was as much a dragon, as much a Targaryen as any of their family. With or without a dragon. Now he had a dragon, but he had lost her in return. He hurt her. 

His mother waltzed into his room at that moment, he put down the dragon and looked to her. 

“Has she said anything to you?” Alicent asked. 

“Nothing. I took her brother away, I doubt she’ll ever speak to me again.” Aemond said. “I don’t think I’ll ever see her again.” 

“Stranger things have happened. You might just yet.” She tried to console him. But he turned away from her. 

He did not want to talk. He wanted to see her again. That Velaryon girl who was his only friend. That child who stood with him against the world. 

~~~

Jacaerys stood before the Weirwood tree. In front of the ancient tree with Lord Cregan. The man before him had said they were like brothers who had finally met after years apart. The two had met so well and wanted to cement their bond together. 

Cregan held out a knife and ran it along his palm. As the blood arose to the surface of his skin he handed Jace the same knife. The younger one ran the blade across his own palm. Once both hands held the same wound the two joined them together and clutched each other's hands tightly. 

“I swear to be a brother to you.” Cregan stated. 

“And I you.” Jace responded. 

“I swear to treat your sister with respect and grace. She will know kindness and strength here.” The older said. 

“I will not abandon the North and will look out to your interests.” Jace said. 

“I swear fealty to Queen Rhaenyra. And will pledge men to her cause.”

The two held hands tightly before letting go after a few minutes. The oath of brotherhood held longer in the air between them. Cregan looked like he was deciding something. After a minute when they bandaged their hands, Cregan held Jace’s shoulder and looked at him with a different gaze. 

“I have a place I must show you. An important place.” Cregan said. 

“Than we must go as soon as possible.” Jace responded. 

“Tomorrow. Tonight you must tell me more of your sister.” The two walked back to the castle. Their bond solidified. They were brothers now. And while their bond held in the air, Jace could forget about the threat of war that would surely come about. 

Two men, now brothers.

@electronickingmentality @man-i-be-that-pretty-motherfuckr @grimmbunniee @ladyodium @uniquecutie-puffs

[hunterbunter3000]

I'm thinking of sweetheart being the mother of task force 141 when laswell isn't there like in the middle of the night when sweetheart is sleeping and just wakes up when she hears the door creaking and looks at the door and sees one of the boys looking like they were crying and they ask if they could cuddle with then because they had a nightmare and sweetheart just coos at them pats the empty spot so they can lay on and sweetheart spoons them making on of the boys feel safe and falls asleep immediately while sweetheart is slowly scratching their head

And then sweetheart falls asleep and when she wakes up of the cod boys are in her room, asleep and she just laughs and gets out of bed and go make some breakfast and coffee or tea for them

Like AHHODHDHEBR like if ghost was the one he would have slight tears in his eyes or konig I know damn well he would be holding a tiger teddy-

Fucking sobbing on the floor for this shit

I AM TOOOOO WTF THIS IS SO ADORABLE 😭😭😭 König holding a tiger teddy that he's had ever since he was a kid is making me ferallLLLLLLAAHHHH

LIKE MY MATERNAL INSTINCTS ARE JUST KICKING INNNNN

And I'm sorry- all I saw was König and tiger stuffy and now this whole thing is just about him AHAHANA

Brown Palace and Grey Oceans

--

(Help this got so long-- it always starts off funny and then i try to be an actual writer smh YOU'LL SEE WHAT I MEAN)

(I honestly don't know what König looks like... even the wiki lore isn't saying anything so I kinda just made him up myself 😅 like how everyone does LOL)

Süße Torte = Sweet Pie

Cw.: FLUFF FLUFF FLUFFY FLUFF

Word count: long. (IDK HOW TO DO A WORD COUNT)

Yk damn WELL König would open her door as quietly as possible and tip toe to her. He would second guess waking her up cause she looks so damn peaceful sleeping. Her eyelashes laying gently on her soft cheeks, the moonlight shining on her brown skin, making her look ethereal. But he needs comfort right now. The nightmare he had, he can't deal with that by himself.

So he would gently shake Sweetheart's shoulder. And she would SO wake up like a parent would: gasping for air, wide eyed and jerking back. He would step back and apologize. He thinks this was a bad idea but Sweetheart stops him.

Sweetheart, wiping her eyes and sleep in her voice: What's wrong hun?

König, holding his tiger to his side: Uhm... I had a bad... very bad dream.

He breathes in deep, tears welling in his eyes.

König, voice shaking: Can I please sleep with you...?

Sweetheart could hear her heart break. Seeing such a unit of a man be dwindled down to this... (I WANNA HUG HIM)

Her eyebrows knit together, sad that he feels this way. She scoots over and pats her bed. König sniffs, hand rubbing his nose under his home hood. (The brown embroidered hood Sweetheart made him for the base)

He squeezes in there, both of them getting situated in her already small bed. Sweetheart has most of the blanket, but König doesn't care. As long as he's with someone. (Sweetheart specifically)

He turns to her body, face now in her bosom. His eyes go wide, and he looks up at her. She smiles warmly at him. Her eyes go to the little tiger teddy he's holding in his hands. She coos at him.

Sweetheart: How long have you had that?

König feels embarrassed. He kinda forgot he even brought it with him, as it's his comfort companion. (His grandma found it in the attic and sent it to him)

He curses as he hides it behind his back, but Sweetheart grabs his arm. She holds the stuffed tiger, a cute tiny smile and round ears with stripes loosely sewn on the fading base. A big black button for the eye, but the other one is missing, it's just an opening. It's missing a tail, and some tears are on the body. A very old stuffed animal, but Sweetheart can tell it's loved.

Sweetheart: it's so cute... what's the name?

She's not judging him. A grown man, standing at a whopping 6'10, owns an old tiger stuffed animal that he has had ever since he was a child. And she's not judging him. Not laughing in his face and kicking him out. She's asking what his name is, with curiosity in her eyes. How is she real?

König, whispering: ....Hobbes.

Sweetheart: Pardon?

König, speaking a bit louder: His name is-- is Hobbes.

Sweetheart, gasps: Like from Calvin and Hobbes?

König, perks up: You know of those comics?

Sweetheart, giggling: Hell yeah! I used to read them constantly when I was younger. I still have them actually at my home! You could read some if you want when I go back.

König, getting excited and feeling better: I would love that, Süße Torte. Thank you.

Sweetheart, smiling and giving Hobbes back to him: No problem. Are you feeling tired?

He nods his head, about to take off his hood but stops himself. He looks at Sweetheart, eyes asking 'Should I take this off? Will you be uncomfortable?' She looks back him. 'The real question is, will You be uncomfortable if you take it off?'

König thinks on this. He looks back at her brown eyes. Her soft, dark eyes. Eyes that suck him every time he looks at them, entering the smoky quartz palace he would stay in forever. Eyes that always make him feel safe, wrapping him in the darkest color of silk. Eyes that hold many stories and love. Sensual, trustworthy eyes. He can trust her.

König: I trust you.

He takes it off and places it on the floor, face bare and open to the world. He could have sworn Sweetheart's eyes sparkled with actual stars when they got wide. His messy, auburn brown hair is swept back. Thick, soft angeled eyebrows nervously twitch under the hard stare from the woman.

And his eyes, oh, his round, gentle eyes. The ones that light up and shine when she looks at them. The grayish green tint reminded her of clear ocean water, wanting to swim in them forever. Eyes that hold many stories and many secrets. Beautiful eyes. He's beautiful to her.

With his crooked and scarred nose, he has broken many times over the years. Pink downturned lips, curtained over with a thin brown beard on a sharp jaw.

König gulps, eyes still focused on hers. They're staring into each other's color, too far gone to come back to reality. Sweetheart breaks it after what it felt like hours. She starts to laugh quietly, making König confused and a bit self-conscious. She looks back up at him.

Sweetheart, scoffing in disbelief: Who would've thought you were so pretty under those hoods...

He can't breathe.

Sweetheart, still shocked: I mean I never would've guessed. You're... wow.

She places her hand on his sharp cheek. Skin on skin. Warmth. He can feel it. Finally.

Sweetheart: You're really beautiful, Y'know that König?

He can't-- this- it's too much. Overwhelming. Her warm hand, the soft awe look in her eye, her scent, her words, her eyes-- it's too much.

He dips into her neck, hiding his face as his hands wrap around her.

König, beet red: Can we please just- go to sleep? My heart... my heart can't take much more of this.

Sweetheart giggles, wrapping her hands on his head.

Sweetheart: of course.

Her long nails scratch the nape of his neck, almost making König purr. He relaxes into her, molding his body against hers, as they finally give themselves to the night.

König woke up on an empty bed. The sunlight poked at his eyes, telling him to start his day. His hand feels the cozy sheets, where Sweetheart's supposed to be. Sweetheart. Where is she?

He rolls over but falls on the floor with a huge thud and a yelp, and her items shudder from his clumsiness. He grabs his hood as he gets up, stretching his sleepy body. How long was he asleep? It felt like a coma. But nonetheless, he feels extremely well rested, with Sweetheart in his arms and Hobbes-- wait a minute...

Where's Hobbes?

His heart rate picks up as he speeds walk out of her room. Are the others awake? Is she showing them? Making fun of him? No, no please no.

He gets out of his head when he Sweetheart in the living area alone, repairing Hobbes. She hums as she works with a smile, bonnet still on her head, wearing a big sweater and leggings with her legs crossed. She ticks up and sees König.

Sweetheart, waving at him: Good morning, baby! How'd ya sleep?

Baby?

Baby. She called him baby.

König stumbles back a bit. He shakes his head and clears his throat, an overwhelming feeling replacing the over-thinking.

König: yeah. I mean- fine! Good. Wonderful. I slept wonderfully. It was... I needed that. Thank you.

Sweetheart, chuckling: Of course! By the way, there's coffee and some eggs I made you in the kitchen. If you want it.

König, feeling his heart melt: Oh, thank you Süße Torte. I appreciate it.

She nods her head, continuing back to repairing Hobbes with her needle and thread. König relishes this feeling. The feeling of them being the only ones awake, the feeling of having breakfast made, the feeling of enjoying one's presence. It felt right. It felt domesticated. It felt...

Like they were together. In a relationship. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Husband and wife.

He shakes his head, almost spilling the sugar he was pouring for his coffee. He looks back at Sweetheart, still in her own world, being her. Being perfect.

Boyfriend and girlfriend. He scoffs, mixing his coffee. Please, that will never happen.

You're really beautiful, y'know that König?

He stops.

You're... wow.

His heart beating fast yet sinking at the same time. A small sick feeling in his stomach but butterflies in his chest. He collects his eggs and coffee and places it on the table before heading to Sweetheart on the couch. He sits across from her, watching her working hands, nimble and caring to Hobbes' tears. She sees him and smiles, showing her work.

Sweetheart: Look! I'm almost done sewing up his little scars. I also fixed his eye and tightened his ears and limbs! I need to wash and refill him, though.

She went on and on, rambling on what to do for Hobbes. König smiles. He hasn't done that in so long. He takes off his hood and places his hand on her knee. Their eyes meet, hers sparkling again from seeing his face.

König, sincerely smiling: I thank you for all that you have done for me. In just a short time... I feel like I found myself again.

Sweetheart beams. She's so glad she could help him out. Seeing König in that state last night makes her heart feel heavy, but none of that. He's happy. He's relaxed. He's grateful.

Her hand rests on top of his, and he moves his into hers, Sweetheart's now perched atop of his. The sun smiles on their eyes, their different colored crystals gleam bright.

Sweetheart: You're welcome.

They stayed like that, enjoying each other's company until they were sucked in.

Her Brown Palace and His Grey Oceans.

--

Lil Bonus.!

Sweetheart: Have you noticed that Hobbes doesn't have a tail?

König, snickering: Yes, I know. When I was little, Krueger would fight me over Hobbes. And one day, he pulled on it so hard that he ripped off the tail. I cried for days.

Sweetheart:

Sweetheart, getting up: Imma choke him out.

König: Sweetheart no that was years ago!

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Thank ya for reading ♡🙏

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

sulani: set sometime after this

cw: while i tried to deal with it in a light way (without trivialising the issue), this does allude to consent. nothing happens, everyone’s wishes are respected, and no one is persuaded/pressured to do anything. just in case the subject may understandably be triggering for some though.

(also while I did my best with @akitasimblr's leo harper - or rather my homebrand cc free knock-off - nothing he does is canon unless Ana says it is!)

* * *

"Looking good, Leo. Why, thank you, you handsome devil. Have to say, Ms. “I’ve done more mucking out than messing around” was not the contestant I was expecting this call from. But we all saw her in that bikini. I would hardly refuse."

It was at this moment, Araminta knew that she had fucked up.

(Oooh, he is going to hate me. And completely ruin my chances with Dodo, if not my entire reputation simply out of spite. I know his type too well. Still, Minty. An explanation is owed - and an apology. You come from two long lines of royalty, so you must have a spine somewhere. Find it.)

"I have to say, this was an unexpected surprise, but not an unwelcome one. Can I get you anything? There’s a chardonnay chilling that will knock your socks off. And a few other things too, but we can take our time with that."

"..."

"Uh, Minty? I assume we’re on pet name terms, or we’re about to be. If it’s the chardonnay, I can have something else brought up."

"... .... ...."

"Listen, between you and me, when you get us five star celebrities between the sheets? We’re just Some Guy. Well, some of us anyway. I have it on good authority that Thorne Bailey for example is the worst woohoo. Like not even one star. So don’t be nervous! Assuming that you’re nervous because it’s me." 

(cue Leo's own math lady meme moment)

"Orrrr are you nervous because you’ve changed your mind - and you don’t know how to tell me?"

(looks up at him hopefully)

"Well, I’m taking anything other than shoving me onto the bed as a resounding ‘no, I’m not into this anymore.’ Why don’t I check on that chardonnay, and you take a moment? If I end up having the entire bottle to myself, that’s okay."

"See? It was fine. You are fine. Pull yourself together, Araminta."

* * *

"I… didn’t mean to text you. Your profile pictures look exactly the same."

"Funny how that works. So, you thought that you were texting my brother? And in spite of having at your fingertips the hottest commodity in the entire Simsverse - ie. my own personal private number - you decided that you’d rather attempt a night of passion with that doofus instead?"

"Well... yes?"

(leaves unsaid that there wasn't even a decision to be made. also - ahem. dodo is not a doofus, thank you.)

"But Watcher, everyone knows that I’m the sexy twin!"

(tactful silence)

"I am so terribly sorry, Leo. And quite frankly, mortified. I’d tear up my contract right now if I could."

"Contracts don’t work like that, Princess. Trust me. Don’t sweat it. It’s nothing to leave the challenge over. I can’t promise that I won’t laugh at you later or bring it up on the show at some point, but apart from you being a boring do-gooder, we’re cool. Deep breaths."

"I did, er, bring some wine myself. It’s an aged Chestnut Ridge red from our cellar, and I had thought that Dodo-"

"Totally wasted on him. Give me that."

"Thank you, by the way, for being so nice about this."

"Nice? Ha. I thought you lived on some Henford estate, not beneath a rock. But I’m not a creep. If you don’t one hundred percent want to be here, then I don’t want you here. Period. Go downstairs and get a massage or something. It looks like you need it."

"I may do just that."

"Wait - let’s check that you have my brother’s number right. You may have picked the wrong twin, but there’s nothing wrong with your taste in wine. And if you and Dodo don’t work out, then I’m always happy to mentor a promising up-and-comer." (winks)

"I’ll, uh, bear in mind that generous offer."

"No you won’t. You’re just being polite. Now scram. I’d totally smack your arse on your way out, but the Watcher is too cheap for that pack. And if you ever tell anyone other than Dodo that I wasn’t a total dick to you, I’ll spread a rumour that you once drank white wine with red meat or some other shit that would totally ruin your good name within 'polite' society."

"Plum, she really was that surprised at me being cool with her not wanting to sleep with me. The bar for men is so low, it must be in fucking Selvadorada. Here’s to being the sexy twin. And to all my daughters hopefully being lesbians."

"Hey, this is really a nice vintage. Nice girl too, unfortunately. But I could have fixed her, Watcher..."

[emithecharmer]

The Right Guy

Friends to lovers, swearing, talks of weight loss ( 1 time) kissing, fluffy. Sorry for any mistakes!

"Am I like..pretty?" You asked out of the blue, making your best friend tilt his head as he looked at you.

"I mean, yeah?"

"Okay, am I interesting? Or funny?" He nodded, his brows furrowing as you sighed and threw your head back.

"Then why can't I get a fucking call back? I've gone out with 4 different guys, in the span of like- a month, and nothing."

"They're idiots."

"That's what I keep telling myself, but, maybe there's something wrong with me." You pouted slightly, walking over to Hyunjin's floor length mirror.

"I guess I could lose some weight, that might change things."

"Y/n, you don't have to change, you just need to find the right guy." He turned away slightly, rolling his eyes, practically screaming at himself.

"I'm not even sure there is a right guy! I'm so done with men." He couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up in him, trying to subdue it when you turned to him quickly.

"What? Why are you laughing? I'm serious!" He smiled as he held his arms open for you. He stood up as he slowly walked over and let him hug you.

"You're perfect okay? There are some dumb guys out there, and if they're too caught up in their own ways to recognize a gorgeous rose like you when they see one, then I'll just have you to myself for a little while longer." You frowned at that last sentence.

"What do you mean?" He chuckled quietly as he let go, stepping back.

"I'm sure your future boyfriend wouldn't really appreciate that you have a guy best friend, let alone a straight guy best friend." You smiled and rolled your eyes, laughing airily. Hyunjin swore his heart skipped at the sound of your laughter bouncing off the walls of his bedroom.

"Yeah, but you don't like me like that, so it's fine, right?"

"Would you let your boyfriend have a straight girl best friend, or- not let- but like- be comfortable." You paused and he saw your eyes droop a bit as you thought about it.

"I guess not.."

"And who are you to say I don't feel that way about you." You eyes jumped to his, and he saw your posture straighten.

"What?" Your voice was quiet, and it made Hyunjin want to sink into the floor.

"Y/n, I'm the right guy. I'm here and I've waited for so long." He sighed, smiling nervously as he threw his head back in frustration.

"Hyunjin, what." It wasn't a question anymore, it was more of an accusation, and it made Hyunjin a bit anxious that he should have kept his mouth shut.

"One chance, just let me show you how a real man treats a woman. Let me show you how you should be cared for." You were completely silent, and he could feel his heart begging to burst out of his chest.

"Come here." He stayed put, too scared to move, so you did instead. You walked the few steps that were between the both of you, wrapped your arms softly around his neck, and brought his lips down to your own.

It was nothing like you imagined, sure you'd both been harboring feelings, too scared to act on them due to the threat of your friendship being ruined. But nothing could have prepared you for the amount of emotion that Hyunjin relayed through the kiss, as soon as he grasped onto what was happening. When you both pulled away, all you could see was a blurry Hyunjin, who cupped your face, and wiped your stray tears, before bringing you in for another kiss.

When you parted, you both smiled, and wordlessly knew that everything had changed for the better. No relationship was ruined, but rather, a new, beautiful one, was created.

[metalomagnetic]

I was re-reading Dissonance and I wanted to ask if Abraxas ever kept the poison chandelier? Like is it a treasured family heirloom? Or does Lucius just inherit it when his dad dies with no clue why they have this dangerous, tacky piece of decor he can't get rid of because Lord Voldemort vaguely complimented(?) it one time?

It's hilarious that you sent me this ask, while I am still laughing myself to tears (I just read your comment 1 minute ago).

-

The 'homoerotic chandelier' (I am STILL laughing, thank you, truly) is, of course, gaudy; just horrid, really, there's a reason no one was buying it, even with Tom's outstanding sale talents.

Being an impulse purchase (a horny purchase), Abraxas didn't think it through- how on earth will he explain this monstrosity to his father?

He hides it in the dungeons, knowing his father doesn't go there (draft and all).

After Tom disappears, Abraxas might, or might not, visit the dungeons to have a look at it from time to time. He sent hundreds of letters to Tom, but they all returned unopened, so he's convinced his enemy-lover is dead. His cold, tiny heart, is broken.

Once his dad finally dies, Abraxas moves the chandelier to Gringotts, wrapped in a secure box, in the hopes he won't have to think about it (Tom) anymore, if it isn't in his house. At first, he wanted to destroy it, but he couldn't make himself. (It's lucky he didn't try, because that was one CURSED chandelier that would have reacted poorly to violence).

A decade or so later, Lord Voldemort shows up.

Abraxas is furious (happy)! How dare that mudblood be even more powerful than when he left? (how dare Tom just show up, as if Abraxas didn't mourn for him, thought him dead, and grew stupidly attached to an ugly chandelier as a stand in for Tom?)

Everyone is playing this silly game, pretending not to recognise this is Tom Riddle. Abraxas cannot wait to actually meet him face to face and spit 'Riddle' at him; he is a Malfoy, Riddle doesn't scare him! Alas, before he can meet him, he hears old classmates are dropping dead all over the place (the only thing they had in common was that they knew the name Riddle) and he reconsiders. It's not that he's afraid (he's terrified), but he's just cautious. Yes, cautious. He determines is better to avoid Riddle (even if his broken, even tinier and colder heart longs to see him again).

But then his stupid son comes back with a horrid brand on his arm (he remembers Riddle doodling it in his schoolboy silly journal) and Abraxas is horrified. Furthermore, Rodolphus keeps saying Voldemort is unnaturally close to Lucius, that they have many one on one meetings, and Abraxas has had ENOUGH. So he goes to face Riddle and tell him to stay away from his son (he has no idea that once, long ago, his own father went to tell Tom to stay away from Abraxas. Apparently it's a Malfoy tradition, now.)

Anyway, things don't go as planned, Abraxas freezes when he sees what Riddle had done to his previously perfect face. He freezes when he feels the *power* emanating from him. He ends up pretending he doesn't recognise him.

It's a long and complicated story (really, it is) but eventually Abraxas invites Voldemort to the Manor ( to discuss Lucius, of course, no other reason. Not like Abraxas had decade long fantasies of bringing Riddle to his Manor and fucking him in the master bedroom or anything like that). On a whim, he has the chandelier brought back from Gringotts and hangs it in the dining room.

Riddle's new waxy, harsh face does something funny, shows some emotion for once, when he sees it. Abraxas is suddenly hot all over, but they attempt to talk normally until Lucius comes home, bows to Riddle ( the indignity! Lucius should only bow to Abraxas) and then, with a sneer, asks if Abraxas has lost his mind, what is that ugly chandelier doing in their lovely home?

The chandelier apparently doesn't take the insult in stride, and , with a thunder like noise, starts raining poison down on Lucius.

It's fine, in the end. Riddle was always good with spells of all kind, the arrogant mudblood, so he fixes Lucius up, and then sends him to get some rest.

The next morning, when Lucius stumbles out of his room, with a headache from the remaining after effects of the poison, he witnesses his lord getting out of his father's room.

He blinks. Once, twice. He rubs his eyes, frozen.

"You're hallucinating," Lord Voldemort tells him. "From the poison. Go back to bed."

Lucius decides that yes, he must be hallucinating (he dearly hopes so, because why else would he see the dark lord, robe not entirely buttoned up, leaving his father's room at dawn?), and he retreats to the safety of his room.

Another decade later, when his father dies, Lucius decides to leave the chandelier in place ( in his father's room, where it was moved after it assaulted Lucius). He thinks it's wiser not to mess with the thing. Besides, it seemed to matter quite a lot to his old man; Lucius swears his father loved that ugly monstrosity more than he ever loved Lucius.

--

Thank you so much for your comment, and you're at fault for this lengthy, cracky answer! I hope you enjoy it! ❤️

[gingiesworld]

Love Is Fickle

Part 3

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader

Warnings: Angst. Fluff

Taglist: @username23345 @fxckmiup @marvelogic @dark-hunter16 @moistblobfish

Wanda had waited for a few months now to see when Y/N would return home. Although she also recieved a lot of letters, all dated from when Y/N had joined the military and dropped out of school.

Wanda,

I know that you're probably wondering why I am not there, hell if Vision has anything to do with it, you probably won't even notice I'm gone. But I had to leave Westview, I couldn't stay in a place I don't really belong anymore. My heart doesn't belong there.

I hate that I never really said goodbye to you. I hate myself for not giving you an explanation, but I hope that maybe one day in the future if we do cross paths again I would have the balls to tell you. Tell you everything.

I love you Wanda Maximoff. I always have and I always will.

Y/N Y/L/N

Wanda couldn't help the tears as she read each of the letters. Reading over Y/N's words which they most likely never intended for her to ever receive.

Wanda,

I came home for the first time since I left and I was kind of sad that I never saw you. I guess you're having the time of your life at NYU as you should be tearing that place up with your awesomeness. I wish I could have been there with you, although you probably know I lied to you about getting in. I know my mom won't ever be able to hold her own piss.

I just want you to know how incredibly amazing you are and you are destined for amazing things Wanda.

I love you so much

Y/N Y/L/N

She smiled at some of their words, laughing at some of the stories they had to tell her.

Wanda,

Nat told me about what happened between you and Vision. I'm sorry I can't be there to reassure you that everything will be fine, but everything will be fine in the end Wanda. You will find happiness again.

But the funniest thing happened to me that might make you laugh. The guys thought it would be funny to shave my eyebrows and now I look weird. I even posted a picture so you can have a laugh at it.

Y/N Y/L/N

Wanda laughed as she held the picture in her hands, tears falling as she couldn't really control herself. That was until she heard Peggy and Steve yelling.

"I can't lose you too Steve." Peggy cried out as she held onto his arm.

"I need to find them Peggy. They're our baby." He told her softly. "I need to do this. Bring them home."

"Please." Peggy pleaded with him.

"I will find them Peggy. I will bring them home." He kissed her before he left in the taxi. Peggy clutched at her chest as she cried as Wanda came running out.

"What's going on Peggy?" She questioned as Peggy shook her head. "Is it Y/N?"

"They've been officially declared MIA." She sobbed as Wanda held onto her. Tears of her own falling as all she had left was the memories she had shared in their childhood together.

"I'm going to marry you one day Wanda." 10 year old Y/N stated as the two played in the park.

"I can't wait Y/N/N." Wanda beamed as she kissed their cheek. "My knight in shining armour." The two chuckled before they raced for the swings.

-------

Wanda lay on her bed clutching her stomach, waiting for the painkillers her mom gave her to kick in. Soon to be greeted by a smiling Y/N who held an assortment of sweets, chocolate and soda in their arms.

"Your mom told me that you have got stomach pains so I thought we could watch your favourite show and binge eat." They beamed as Wanda smiled. "I also brought some heat pads." Wanda hugged them before she pulled them down onto the bed with her after setting up the Dick Van Dyke show.

"How do you know it's my period?" She questioned as she held up the countless packs of feminine products.

"You very rarely get ill and we are going through puberty." They told her. "Plus I may have done some research since I don't have a uterus and wanted to make sure you would be ok."

Wanda never realised how she had never noticed that Y/N had been in love with her, even before she started dating Vision. She was too oblivious to the possibility that she could have had something better than the mediocre love that she had with her ex.

"How stupid am I?" Wanda asked Nat as the two sat in her room. Mrs Maximoff was over with Peggy who was broken up. "If I had realised in that moment that I was in love with them, that they were my forever. They wouldn't be missing right now."

"Wanda, no one knows if things would have changed." Nat told her. "As much as they were in love with you, they looked up to their parents. Especially with their father being in the military."

"But." Wanda tried.

"I know you finally figured it out." Nat told her softly. "That's why they asked me to send you the letters they had written to you over the years, even the latest ones."

Wanda sighed as she grabbed the latest ones, looking at the one dated from the day after she went to their building. Opening it with care and shaky hands.

Wanda,

I'm sorry that I left like that, and I hate myself for it. I just hope that you can forgive me but I don't think I am ready to open myself up to you just yet. Even though I am still in love with you but I just can't because I am afraid that this is some sick joke.

I guess that maybe we can use this time apart to figure everything out between us, because I have missed you so much over the years Wanda. I hated that I never done all of the things we dreamt of doing together. And I want to make new memories.

I love you too Wanda

Wanda couldn't help but sob as she held their letter to her chest, Nat wrapping her arms around her as she cried loudly. Her heartbreaking at the thought that she may never see them again.