#its peak H hours everyone

[radioactivedadbod]

I have terrible information to share

This is unironically Petercore

[earlysunshines]

just pretend(?)

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; angst, fluff

synopsis: your coworker can’t seem to fall out of love with you so you convince your best friend to fake date you. sometimes the “fake” seems a little too real.

warnings: PINING!!! ; danielle is touchy and wonderful and reader is a mess ; kinda all over the place?? I'm also a bit iffy ab the pacing on this one ; bit of angst near the end ; alcohol ; anything else not mentioned ; not proofread… none of my fics are…

a/n: this is based off my life rn bc my friend and i r literally fake dating so my coworker can stop being in love w me and i just HAD to turn this into a fic like what (but most of this is exaggerated ofc esp the whole coworker thing I made her a little over the top on purpose for the plotLOL)

"absolutely not." hanni looks disgusted, almost appalled with that stupid expression on her face. “you’re crazy.”

"please, i'll pay you." you beg, clasping your hands together and giving her your best puppy eyes.

"you're going to scare the hoes away... no, no, and no.”

"what ‘hoes’ hanni? when is the last time you've talked to a girl." you groan and pinch the bridge of your nose.

she sticks her tongue out at you, then responds, “you wouldn’t know…”

“dumbass the only reason i’m begging is because women do want me. please, it’s not going to be serious or anything—“

“i don’t care, the answer is no. ask someone else!”

you’re currently perched on the edge of your best friend's bed, practically begging for help. you seem to have a knack for attracting the strangest types of people, and this time, it’s your coworker who’s got severe attachment issues and an unhealthy level of codependency. all you wanted was a paycheck and simplicity, but now you find yourself in a situation you never asked for.

your best friend groans again, “you and your flirting… it gets you into this shit time and time again and the way you act… you know what you’re doing.”

“what?”

“shut up, you act gay and you know people fall for that. i’m not gonna help you because you want to be an asshole, if you could just be normal for once—“

“fuck you.” you flop onto her bed, shutting your eyes and rubbing your face. “i’m just nice and it’s fun to flirt! it’s nothing. i flirt with my friends and you all the time, they’re fine with it.”

“that’s because they’re straight, y/n. gay people are very vulnerable – except me.”

“you would know.” you retort, earning a glare from hanni. “who the hell do i ask then?”

“haerin?”

“she wouldn’t.”

“yunjin?”

“we don’t match, plus, she dates around.”

“sakura?”

“edating someone right now, some girl in france?”

“the hell?”

“i know.” you sigh louder and hanni just looks at you with slight, playful disgust. “what do i do.” you flop your hands onto the mattress and stare up. “dude, she’s too obsessed, i’m flattered because i mean, maybe i’m attractive and whatnot but this is just–”

“--delusion at its peak.” hanni clicks her tongue, now smiling at you; an idea pops up in your best friend's big head. you turn to face her, raising a brow. “how about dani? she’s literally perfect.”

danielle marsh is perfect, that’s the problem.

she’s a biology major whose ipad pro notes are so neat and pleasing to the eye that they genuinely keep you awake at night – most of it being because you’re leeching off her, but they’re so neat it really has you thinking how she does it all. 

to make things even more bewildering (and impressive), she’s one of two people you know – you’re unsure whether your cousin hyein counts, high school is nothing compared to what you endure – who manages to get at least eight hours of sleep daily. in contrast, everyone else in your circle, including yourself, is barely hanging on by a thread. 

yet, danielle seems to have cracked the code. she even finds time to volunteer at the library where she works, making you wonder if she’s some sort of extraordinary being. her ability to balance everything so effortlessly leaves you in awe, often questioning if she’s even real considering how remarkable she is.

the worst part is that she’s your best friend, right after hanni, and the person you’ve been crushing on since your first semester of university. 

it’s impossible not to have a crush on her—she’s gorgeous, sweet, and embodies everything you could ever want and more. she’s captivating, and every time you see her she flashes that stupid, adorable smile that makes your heart do a flip regardless of how many times you’ve convinced yourself that she’s unattainable and that there’s no way and that you don’t even like her and–

“i couldn’t.” you shut hanni down, quick. “she’s… you know.”

hanni furrows both brows, turning her head. “she’s what?”

“you know.” you make some strange gesture with your hands that only confuse hanni further. 

“i don’t, just fake date her.”

“she wouldn’t agree.”

“sure she would, let me call her!”

you shoot up and look at hanni with an expression that screams ‘are you out of your mind?’ as she finds danielle’s contact on her phone. 

before you can stop her, you hear a ringing sound and feel your body give up. hanni grins at you when danielle picks up five seconds later, both of you hearing a friendly, “hi!” as you back away from her.

“hey mo dani!” hanni greets, giving you a shit eating smirk. “miss l/n has a question for you.”

“she’s with you?” danielle’s voice is sweet like honey even from the phone. “hi!”

“hey!” you greet a little awkwardly, glaring at hanni. 

“y/n was wondering if you could date her.” 

eyes widening, you leap and grab the phone from hanni immediately, sputtering out jumbles of words nervously, “n-no! i mean, yeah… but not for real.” 

“oh,” you hear danielle respond lowly from the end of the phone. “wait, i’m confused.”

hanni watches you close your eyes tightly, clearly flustered and thrown off by her little antics. 

“y/n came over to ask me to date her, not actually, but just like, pretend.” hanni explains, “her coworker is still in love with her.”

“sarah?” you hear from the other end of the phone. “i thought you rejected her like, three months ago.”

“i did, but she’s still… ugh.” you flop onto the bed again and danielle hears hanni laughing in the background. “she’s still stuck on me i think, i don’t know, she’s been so…”

“if it’ll stop bothering you then i’ll help!”

“you will?” you respond, shocked. hanni mouths an i told you, then gets shoved. 

“yeah! i don’t want my best friend being so bothered, it must make you uncomfy too, right? working with someone who likes you?”

you start to wonder if danielle would be uncomfortable in a similar situation, maybe in one where she’s friends with someone who likes her, but she’s unaware of that. you shake your head, clearing your mind and staying present.

“kind of, it’s just… extra stress.”

“okay, then let’s date!” she beams, you can picture her eyes scrunching and smile growing. you want to die (affectionate) just thinking of it. “this should be fun!”

“thanks for helping out dani, thanks so much. i’ll let you be, okay? gotta go um… run errands.” 

“alright! just text me, bye, love you.” the call ends and you sigh again, feeling yourself sink deeper into hanni’s sheets.

hanni is very much your mortal enemy, she still doesn’t know why you’re so distraught because of danielle. whatever the reason may be, it makes her cackle next to you.

–

it’s nine in the morning, you didn’t have time to pregame the lecture on microbiology with at least three shots of espresso, and you’re yawning as you leave the room.

you hear your name being called out and turn to see no one other than the feeling of hot chocolate on a cold, snowy day turned into a person walking towards you – danielle.

“hey! hi.” she greets, smiling wide. her hair is clipped up and small strands of her hair stick out cutely. “hey baby.” 

you almost choke. “what?”

“did you forget we’re dating now?”

“oh.” dating, but is it even that if it’s not real? “um, hey babe?” it comes out uncertain and danielle laughs.

“wow, you suck at this – it’s okay, we’ll work on it.” she giggles, then links her arms with you. “let’s go get coffee, i need it in my system right now. oh my god, it’s our first date!”

laughing to hopefully fade away all signs of being flustered to oblivion, you tighten your arm that’s locked with hers. “right, yeah.”

you’re going on a ‘date’ with the prettiest girl on campus, she’s paying for your iced americano with oat milk splashed into it, and she’s smiling at you like you’re laughter in the rain. this can’t be good for you, it can’t be — it’s not. you wonder whether this will be worth it in the end because your coworker doesn’t even know about any of it.

(yet.)

–

before your next shift with your delusional coworker, you and danielle have already conjured up a storyline and backstory for your whole arrangement.

you two conversed for an hour after walking towards the park near her apartment and sitting down next to each other on the swings like kids. danielle was giggling and you were smiling at how charming she looked. unfortunately, you found yourself falling even harder for her just from making up the whole fake story.

danielle suggested keeping it simple, but cute: you two met at the library she worked at, you found her cute and exchanged numbers, went on a few dates, and have been girlfriends for nearly two months.

“but i literally told sarah that i wasn’t looking for anything.” you explain, sighing as you kick the mulch on the ground. that’s what you had said, but what you meant was that you’ve been looking for danielle the whole time. “she won’t believe it.”

“well,” danielle gives you a cheeky look and giggles. “i managed to charm you in a way that pushed that whole idea aside. that’s not too unbelievable, right?” she winks at you and you feel your heart stop momentarily.

you scoff playfully and snicker, “oh shut up.”

“it’s part of the story! are you saying i have no charm…”

she has too much charm. 

“dani, you’re such a dork.”

“a dork that caught your heart! i think this story is perfect.”

pushing aside the slight ache in your heart and the flush in your cheeks, the two of you formulate a first date story: you took her out bowling, where you lost terribly to her (danielle insisted this detail had to be included), and then you both had dessert together at your place. 

it’s not a terrible story, not at all. even hanni would be impressed, but you’re not going to tell her because she’d tease you both relentlessly, and you’re not sure your heart could handle that.

–

danielle walks you into work holding your hand, your coworker, sarah, watches the whole thing.

a pretty girl (pretty is an understatement in your opinion) smiles at you while walking you in, she’s telling you about the little kids she read to the other day and you can’t help but marvel at the excitement coursing through her.

she drops you off near the register right before the small ‘employees only’ sign, then holds both of your hands and looks at you like you’re a flower that’s just bloomed beautifully.

she pauses, observing you closely, then smiles wider. “okay, i’ll get going sweetheart.” the pet name makes you swallow subtly. “have fun at work!”

she takes her hands away from yours, making your skin feel a little colder. “bye, see you.”

danielle glances at your coworker, who’s looking at her with something mixed with confusion, anger, and a hint of disgust. she then looks back at you – a better sight in her opinion – smiling and waving once more before walking away.

you stay there, frozen for a few seconds, before walking behind the counter and setting your bag down.

as you grab your apron, you catch sarah in your peripheral and turn to greet her. “oh, hey.”

“who was that?” she asks immediately. “what’s up with the ‘sweetheart?’”

you grin as while tightening the lace of your apron, then respond, “my girlfriend.” and it feels wonderful rolling off your tongue.

“what? i thought you didn’t want anything?”

“you still in love with me or something?”

she feels her throat dry as she looks at you pat down your apron. “w-what?” she stutters, shaking her head. “no, why would i be…” her tone isn’t convincing, and neither is she when she adds, “it’s just… what’s with the change of heart?”

“she’s really charming,” the thought of danielle begging you to mention that makes you blush. “i like her a lot.”

sarah fights back a frown, instead, her lips twitch into a forced smile as she walks past you to tend to a customer.

–

danielle picks you up from work just to tighten the knot, and sarah also witnesses all of it.

both you and your coworker get off at closing, and after locking the doors, you run into danielle. 

she’s standing outside in a baby tee and jeans, a cap perched jauntily on her head. the moment she sees you, her face lights up into a pretty smile, and you instinctively return it. she rushes over, wrapping her arms around you in a warm hug. as she pulls back, she scans you with a playful yet affectionate gaze, her eyes lingering on you with a mixture of admiration and curiosity.

“sweetheart! i missed you.”

“i missed you too dani– baby…” you mutter the last part shyly, making danielle giggle. “you came? it’s late.”

“i wanted to pick you up, can your girlfriend not do that?”

it still sends a shiver down your spine – hearing danielle call you that. you rub the back of your neck and look away nervously, then respond, “of course not, i’m just surprised.”

sarah looks at the two of you, scoffing under her breath. danielle hears it, turning to look at her and grin, raising her brows along with it before meeting you again. she places a hand on your shoulder, then mumbles, “well, hanni called us over, i wanted to scoop you.”

“ohhh,” it makes sense now, she wouldn’t willingly pick you up just because of the whole ‘fake dating’ thing, there had to be a motive. “alright. i can drive? if you’d like, you know. you must be tired from work too.”

“aw, you’d do that?”

“i um,” you cough, avoiding her eyes again because she’s making you feel all flustered without doing much. “yeah, it’s nothing… baby…”

she grabs your hand, fingers intertwining before dragging you along to her small suv, then handing you her keys. 

your coworker groans now that you two are further, narrowing her eyes at danielle when she turns back not so subtly to make sure sarah is looking. any normal person would back off, getting the hint that the person they want is unavailable, but sarah sees it as a challenge, somehow.

there’s nothing she can’t achieve when she puts her mind to it, that’s her mindset.

you’re oblivious to how insane she is, too clouded with how touchy and giggly danielle is after the whole interaction when teh two of you get in the car.

–

danielle sits besides you on hanni’s couch, leaning against you a bit. “yeah, she gave me a glare, it was kind of funny.”

“pftt– i guess it’s working then?” hanni asks, walking over to hand you two juice from her fridge. danielle takes it happily and it makes you smile a little. 

“i hope so.” you sip on your peach juice. “but she’s like, clinically insane.”

“is she?” danielle questions, tilting her head as her hand finds its way to your bicep. you blush.

“dude, she was crazy.” hanni rubs her temple. “like, oh my god, she was going insane for a good while because y/n didn’t want her like that. i saw their messages and–”

“okay i’ll tell the story thank you.” you scoff. “she’s really competitive, and i guess new to romance? considering how she reacted i don’t know, she’s very…”

“sensitive?” danielle asks – you shake your head.

“i mean no, but kind of. she would get jealous over me really easily and was kind of codependent, like everything i do affects her or something. i’d just go on my day, but she’d always be so reliant on me and text me so often and i just… it’s so much.”

“ah, i see. how long has it been since you rejected her?”

“a few months. i thought she stopped liking me since it’s been so long, but lately there’s been tension and she’s looking at me how she used to…” hanni listens closely as she watches you rub your forehead, looking a little distraught. “i just, oh my god she has terrible attachment issues it’s concerning. the only thing i could think of was pretending to date someone.”

danielle nods in understanding.

“yeah, one time i went to see y/n at work and she looked so like… hostile. that’s not normal, we’re visibly friends.” hanni adds.

you know the exact afternoon that it happened, what hanni mentioned that is. 

she had pulled up to drop something off, and you teasingly flirted with her, hugging her as thanks. afterward, you rang up one of her orders and played with her fingers, a little habit you had developed to annoy her. despite the evident look of disgust and annoyance on hanni’s face, your coworker—who allegedly liked you a bit too much—looked like hanni had just slapped you in the face or spat at you.

long story short, hanni glanced over to see the coworker glaring at her menacingly. in response, hanni poked at you once more before hurrying out with a latte in her hand, confused and slightly terrified.

“yeah she’s… got a bitch face.”

“it’s not normal to glare at people that simply interact with your coworker…” danielle mumbles. “i’m sorry to hear that.”

you wave your hand, giggling lightly. “it’s nothing, really. i mean, i just don’t want her to be so obsessed and stuck on me, i think us pretending to date should tame the fire.”

pretending. 

the word makes both you and danielle tense up.

–

you clock in again, greeting sarah. 

she smiles brightly at you, waving and you have to make a little gesture to remind her there’s a customer in line. sarah turns away bashfully, then takes the man’s order with a hint of attitude. you’re not very fond of that.

he orders an americano, so you immediately get to work, weighing out grinds of espresso, tamping it down, and pulling two shots. as you do so, sarah pulls up next to you and nudges your shoulder.

“hey,”

“hi.” you respond, not looking up from the cup in your hand. “did you need something?”

“that t-shirt looks good on you, have you been working out?”

you feel uneasy the moment she says it, swallowing a lump in your throat. you pour the two shots over the hot water and force a response, “thanks, and um, no.” before calling out the order.

sarah continues to watch you closely as you throw away the used espresso, then says, “your girlfriend didn’t drop you?”

“she’s working.”

“right. i’d find a way to drop off my girlfriend anytime that i could.”

“good for you?” you look her in the eye again, clenching your jaw. 

“you don’t post her much on your socials either, are you guys really a thing?”

fuck. 

you scoff, “what kind of question is that? of course… i just… don’t post much. we’re still kind of new to this.”

“right, she’s not even your lockscreen.”

“i’m going to grab some beans from the back,” you interrupt, redirecting the conversation away from the topic of your alleged girlfriend. sarah narrows her eyes at you as you turn away from her, stepping away and disappearing towards the storage area.

once you’re alone, you sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, feeling the weight of the strange interrogation settle on you. there was an unmistakable hostility in sarah’s tone, a sharp edge that cut through the air. hanni’s right, she always is. the mere thought of enduring six more hours with sarah makes you want to crawl into a hole. her jealousy is palpable, and it eats away at you, gnawing at your nerves.

you pull out your phone and quickly dial danielle, pacing back and forth as you wait for her to pick up.

“hello?” she responds less than ten seconds later. “what’s up?”

“she’s catching on, kind of. i think she’s jealous.” 

“sarah?”

“yes.” you groan, then lean your back against the wall. “i can’t work like this.”

“i’ll come over? do you need me to?”

“no, but can we meet after? i think we need to be more public, if that’s okay.”

you hear her confusion through the phone. “what? public?”

“like, soft launch or something. i just need to make it obvious that i’m quote on quote dating someone – you. and we need a lockscreen together.”

a giggle is heard on the other end of the line, “oh wow.” danielle mumbles teasingly, “this is pretty serious.”

“i hope i die.”

“aw, don’t say that babe. just come over to the library after, okay? good luck on your shift! i have to clock in soon too.”

“can we meet at my place?”

“anything is fine, that’s alright.”

“i literally owe you my first born, dani.”

“it’s nothing, this is quite entertaining.” she says, and you smile with the phone at your ear. “call me later, okay? send me updates.” 

“right, yeah.” you almost whisper, “thank you.”

“it’s nothing, sweetheart.” her laugh is infused into the sentence, making your chest burn.

–

“this is so dumb.” 

you are so dumb. this isn’t helping your case.

hanni and minji are fighting back laughter while you try to naturally rest your hand on danielles knuckles. you’re stiff and it looks anything but natural. 

the angle you take the picture at makes it look awkward, and the picture’s quality sucks too. 

“just relax.” danielle says, then holds your hand instead. “here, let me take the picture.”

you’re trying to keep your cool while minji and hanni watch and danielle, the prettiest girl you know, holds your hand and scoots closer to you in order to ‘soft launch’ your fraud of a relationship. her hand is nice in yours, her skin is soft, and she’s so close you can smell the vanilla fragrance she uses. 

danielle snaps a quick picture, then the rest of the bunch – including you – scoot over to look at the picture.

“well would you look at that! it’s perfect.” danielle beams, grinning at her work. “post that one.”

“holy shit.” minji says in awe. “no yeah, you could fool me with that.”

“anyone could fool you, dumbass.” you snicker, looking up at her and smirking.

“i hate you.”

“oh, i guess you don’t want free food from my work…?” 

minji groans, making you laugh. 

danielle’s hand is still in yours, you don’t fully register it until you realize you need both hands to post a picture on your instagram story. she seems a bit disappointed when you let go, though you barely notice – and even if you did, you might just chalk it up to your imagination.

it's fun, no doubt about it. yet, you can’t help but wonder what it would be like to take pictures of you and danielle that aren’t staged or orchestrated. you long for authenticity, capturing moments that are mundane and candid.

the thought lingers in your mind the whole time, even as you pose with your back to the camera, pretending to cook alongside danielle. it's all set up and artificial, every movement planned out, yet danielle starts giggling and leaning into you – a spontaneous gesture not part of your last-minute brainstorming. 

her laughter is genuine, her touch warm, and it makes you wonder if maybe, just maybe, not everything is as fake as it seems.

–

you wake up from your nap and groan as your ringtone renders you awake. blindly, you slap your hand in every direction on the bed until you feel it under your other pillow. someone’s calling you, that’s all you can make out since there’s a red and green circle. 

tiredly, you mumble, “hello?”

“hi! are you busy?” it’s danielle’s voice responding, shaking you awake. 

“oh, um, no.” you say as you sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes and running a hand through your hair. “are you okay? did something happen?”

“i’m fine! i was just wondering if you were free. you sound tired, were you sleeping?”

“i just took a power nap that’s all. what was it that you need?”

“oh, sorry to wake you.”

“it’s fine, seriously.” 

“well,” she starts, “i was just wondering if you wanted to go out together?”

“oh, me?”

you hear her giggle through the phone and smile softly. “i mean, i am calling y/n, aren’t i?”

“yeah, you are.”

“and i’m asking you, my girlfriend, to hangout. it’s like a date!”

“we’re not actually dating danielle, you don’t have to pretend when we’re calling and alone.” you say quietly, pursing your lips.

it’s not that you hate it, danielle being all lovely and playing the role of your girlfriend too well. the thing is, it feels like you’re getting led on, and the way she is just gives you false hope to something real.

danielle feels a little ache in her heart when you respond like that, but she pushes it away for the time being.

“i don’t mind it, it’s fun!” she beams. “anyway, there’s free ice cream downtown for couples, do you want to grab some?”

“is there? yeah, i’m down. do you want to take the metro?” 

“that’s perfect, there’s probably so much traffic.”

“alright, i can scoop you and take us to the station in fifteen minutes, okay?”

“perfect.” she closes the conversation, and the call ends.

you flop down on the bed again, just for a moment. your eyes are fixated on the ceiling above as you breathe in, thinking about everything. 

you and danielle aren’t dating, not for real. it’s just a show, a sham. she simply wants to hang out for free ice cream, nothing more. you know this. you set yourself up for this whole fake dating thing—well, kind of, considering hanni was the culprit behind this whole arrangement.

it’s already been over a month, and danielle doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest, treating the whole thing as no big deal. you must be insane; you can’t keep doing this knowing your feelings are growing and she most definitely doesn’t feel anything real. it’s just to benefit you, and she’s a great friend who’s willing to help you out. yet, each time you pretend, it gets harder to separate your act from reality.

despite the turmoil, you’re up and finding a change of clothes in order to make danielle happy. because even if she’s not your girlfriend, she’s your friend and you love her regardless.

(sometimes the love you have claws you from the inside.)

–

danielle clings to your arm the whole way down to the city. sometimes she clings a little tighter than usual, then goes silent, and it makes you breathe deeply.

it takes a few wrong turns and teasing to get to the icecream place, there’s already a long line with actual couples. you feel out of place in a way; there’s partners holding the other by the waist from behind, setting their heads on top of the others. a few are just holding hands or lingering close and you can just sense all the love and adoration in the air. 

you swallow shallowly, tensing your jaw because danielle is close to you, but not because you two are something more than friends.

“wow, so many lovebirds.” she says in awe, gazing around.

“uh huh.” you feel her hand slide down your forearm, then her fingers intertwine with yours as she looks up at you. “hm?”

“to seal the deal.” she shrugs, smiling. “plus, your hands are big… and warm.”

“you have small hands.”

“perfect fit for yours.” she giggles playfully, making you do the same. “what flavors did you want? it’s two scoops for free.”

“you can pick both, i don’t mind.”

“what? c’mon, you should pick one.”

“no, you wanted ice cream. i’m just here to make you happy.” you admit, tightening your grip on her hand. 

she starts to respond, but stops for a few seconds. you watch her look away bashfully, staring at the ground and grinning to herself. she shakes her head, then says, “you’re so lovely…”

“pfttt, i just want you to be happy, seriously.”

“you know,” she begins, looking at you again. “whoever manages to become your girlfriend would be real lucky.”

“oh.” your lips twitch into less of a smile and you pause for a moment. “maybe.”

“this fake dating thing is making me realize that you’re such girlfriend material.”

a small laugh stifles the tension and awkwardness in you, “thanks? you are too.”

“am i?”

“yeah.” you stare into her eyes, shes everything you could wish for in a person. “very.”

before danielle can respond, the line moves, and it’s time for the two of you to decide on two flavors. it takes a while to do so, with you declining the offer to chime in and pick a flavor you want, danielle was the one to invite you out anyway. but she looks at you with puppy eyes, pouts, then puts a hand on the side of your bicep and it makes you cave in.

the final choices are salted caramel and coffee.

danielle holds the cup in one hand, drags you away from the area littered with lovey dovey couples – some being too lovey, considering they can’t seem to get away from each other – and leads you blindly towards a small alley in a neighborhood until a bench comes into view. she pulls you towards it eagerly, making you laugh until you’re both sitting next to each other.

you frown a little as you look at the ice cream in the cup. “some of it is melted.”

“not all of it!” danielle beams, then scroops a spoonful of the coffee side – the flavor you ended up choosing. “you have the first taste.” she says, bringing it closer to your mouth.

“wait, you should have it.”

“too late,” she starts to move it in a circular motion, saying, “ahhh~” as she does so.

you scoff, then lean forward and all of it is in your mouth in one bite. danielle watches your eyes light up.

“it’s good.” you mutter, then grab the other spoon to scoop the other flavor. you mirror what danielle did before, making her laugh just as much. “open wiiiiide~”

“ahhh~”

you snicker before moving the spoon into her mouth, she closes it and smiles immediately, melting in place despite the ice cream being pretty cold. 

the street lights make her look precious, highlighting the satisfaction on her face because of some simple ice cream she’d gotten for free. you want to see her this happy everyday and as much as you can. 

a small hint of ice cream is on the corner of her lips, it urges you to bring your hand over and wipe it off with your thumb. danielle stops savoring the dessert, instead, focusing on you. 

“sorry, there was… yeah.”

“mhm.” danielle says, staring at your lips. “it’s really good.”

“i can tell.” you turn away, feeling flustered when she looks at you like that. “let me try your flavor.”

the two of you continue to eat ice cream together, subconsciously scooting closer and closer as you share it. danielle’s head ends up on your shoulder when the cup is empty in your hand, silent in her place.

you don’t budge, mainly because she seems comfortable and you don’t mind ruining your posture a bit if it’s for her. she sighs contentedly, moving her hand over to hold yours in the midst of the moment, slotting together effortlessly. she doesn’t say anything, but you feel her lean into you a little more.

“you okay?”

“just happy.”

“ah,” you rub your thumb against her skin. “that’s good.”

“being with you makes me really happy.”

“being with you makes me happier.” you say softly, staring at your hands aligned seamlessly. “do you want to stay here for a bit longer?”

“please.”

“it’s getting late.”

“i know, just a bit longer.” danielle says.

just a bit longer. if only the whole arrangement could last forever, if only you two could be this close and warm for lightyears.

minutes pass, and neither of you move, lost in the comforting silence. the only shift comes when you turn your head to press a gentle kiss into her hair. danielle feels perfectly in place, her heart fluttering at the tender gesture. a soft smile spreads across her face, a silent acknowledgment of the moment's sweetness.

–

the night prior had to be a dream, it was too perfect. it was the realest you’ve felt with danielle, the closest to something romantic. it was even enough to consider that she felt the same, and you’d love to revel in that possibility, but you have to restock the beans and cups quickly before tending to the drinks.

there’s only thirty more minutes until your shift ends, it feels like eternity.

sarah catches you smiling to yourself throughout the shift, biting the inside of her lip. she’s filled with all too much: anger, jealously, dissapointment, and really just everything that makes her uneasy. 

she still can’t believe it, you had gone on a whole tangent telling her you couldn’t be in a relationship and now you’re being a complete loser in front of her. she hates it, she wants it to be her that makes you smile randomly throughout the day.

what pisses her off more, and truly makes her lose all hope, is when you go from looking tired and drained to bubbly and smiley as soon as a familiar figure starts walking toward the counter. 

she watches you check the time on the register, your smile widening because you can clock out and be with danielle, who’s waiting just across the counter. the change in your demeanor is undeniable, and it stings sarah to see the joy that danielle effortlessly brings out in you.

you walk over to danielle, reaching for her hand. “hey.”

“hi.” the way danielle says it makes your chest warm and sarah nearly gags in return.

what makes sarah's shoulders sink, her heart drop, and her frown deepen is when danielle suddenly kisses your cheek. 

the shock is evident on your face as you stand frozen, your hand instinctively moving to hover over the spot where danielle's lips had just been. the tenderness of the moment is overwhelming, and sarah can't help but feel a profound sense of loss. the realization that your heart belongs entirely to danielle crushes any lingering hopes she had, leaving her to face the painful truth.

“w-what was that for?” you look over and make eye contact with sarah, who’s grimacing. “there’s um, you know… bystanders.”

“i missed you, so much. i couldn’t stop thinking about you.” danielle says simply, not bothering that sarah is the only one who’s witnessing this, and from a few feet away too. “do you want to get dinner?”

“it’s three in the afternoon silly.”

“well, anything is fine. we should study before we eat! i heard the module mr. lee assigned us was really helpful for…” 

the rest of what danielle says doesn’t register in your coworker’s mind. she studies you closely, her frown deepening with each passing second. it’s painfully clear to her now—you’re genuinely in love with danielle, and there's nothing she can do to change that. the way you look at danielle, like a child seeing a rainbow for the first time, leaves no room for doubt. 

it dawns on her that giving up is the only option, and she feels a pang of resignation settling in her chest.

–

nearly three months have passed and both of you have still been ‘pretending.’

neither of you acknowledge that it’s fake, not during the weekly dates, study sessions, and late night walks or movie nights that end up in the two of you falling asleep together. danielle doesn’t think twice when kissing your cheek here and there, even your knuckles when she thinks you’re asleep. 

you figure that maybe it’s okay to kiss her cheek too sometimes because she’s her lips turn each time. and when you pick her up for weekly dates, she happily jumps into the passengers seat of your car as if it weren’t just a mutual agreement. sarah has already given up, considering she seems defeated, and you wonder if you should too. 

you can’t tell if it’s just how danielle is, which eats you inside. everything feels all too real, and your feelings only grow more unbearable.

–

you shouldn’t have let jimin drag you out to minjeong’s party. she’s already left the moment you stepped into the house, she’s probably gotten a hold of a drink already.

jimin had noticed how deeply stressed you've been lately. your responses were slower, your shoulders seemed permanently slumped, and the stress was practically etched into your face. being one of your closest friends, jimin decided that it was time for a change. she was determined to get you out and help you relax, knowing how crucial it was for your well-being (and social life, to be completely real).

walking around, you scan the crowd for a familiar face. unfortunately, the only people you recognize are sunghoon and jake, who have a history of hitting on you despite your clear disinterest. they still haven't grasped that you're a lesbian. you quickly decide to steer clear of them.

the only reason you’re here is because you’ve been throwing yourself into your studies, staying late at the gym, and doing too much to avoid danielle – or even the thought of her.

(which is unfortunately impossible since every little thing reminds you of her.

the flowers on the counter at your work remind you of her smile, the couch in your apartment is where you two have spent hours together, and really, you’re hopeless.)

you find jimin outside on the porch with her other friends that you’ve only talked to once or twice. they’re all talking about something, clearly tipsy, and you’re walking over to linger near your friend.

“y/n! oh my gosh girl, where have you been? come here, have a drink!” jimin grabs your arm, pulling you in and hugging you like she hasn’t seen you in forever. “here, take a shot.”

she hands you a shot of what you assume is some cheap vodka, you didn’t even have time to pregame for this. you’re not against drinking, not at all, if anything you’re all for it. there’s videos of you in groupchats shotgunning beer and finishing with barely any reaction – but tonight, you don’t know if you’re in the mood for it.

one won’t hurt, maybe it’ll erase danielle from your mind for a moment.

“fine.” you grab the small glass, then bring it to your lips and cock your head back, eyes pinching for a brief moment as you swallow. “shit,” you mumble, “give me another.”

you don’t know what has taken over, because you’re downing two more without hesitation. jimin laughs and smiles proudly at you.

for a brief moment, everything feels fine. the music blasting from inside the house, a mix of charli xcx and the chatter of your friends mocking one of your professors and jake, makes you laugh out loud. amidst the chaos, you find a beer in your hand, and somehow, you manage to tolerate the taste. wonyoung appears too, and hands you another after you quickly finish the first. you accept it, even though you're already starting to feel a bit fuzzy.

jimin looks at minjeong with a sparkle in her eyes, and you subtly push her a little closer until their shoulders touch. they exchange smiles, and you watch, feeling proud of your matchmaking. 

your heart sinks as it suddenly reminds you all too much of danielle. the fondness and spark between jimin and minjeong make you frown, your grip on the beer tightening as the bittersweet memories flood back.

“fuck,” you practically whisper. “i need to, i’m going to get more um, drinks.” 

“hm? okay.” jimin says quickly, then turns back to the girl she’s linking arms with.

your head pounds, so you gulp down the can of beer in your hand, then crumple it and toss it toward a trash bin in your line of sight. 

as you make your way to the kitchen, you spot a bottle of vodka and pour yourself a shot into a plastic cup you found. the liquid burns your throat, intensifying the ache in your head. despite this, you pour another shot, perhaps a bit too generously, hoping to numb the growing pain and the emotions clawing at your heart.

the room feels like it’s spinning, you’re walking down some hall and blinking and blinking until you reach a bathroom. thankfully, no one is making out in it, but you check the shower for safety measures. 

you’re finally alone, groaning as you fall against the wall of the bathroom and slide down until you’re sitting on the bathroom floor.

clumsily, you grab your phone from your back pocket. the screen lights up to a picture of you and danielle, cheeks squished together and smiling. 

you stare at it for too long, your breath hitching and your vision blurring as the ache in your head intensifies. the happy memory contrasts sharply with the heaviness you feel now, making it all the more difficult to look away. she just looks so cute in it.

you tap your screen again, and another picture of her appears. it’s a picture of her asleep in the passengers seat, head tilted uncomfortably and lips parted slightly. you had set up your lock screen to cycle through images of danielle, initially to fool sarah, but also because seeing danielle’s face as soon as you pick up your phone makes you feel at ease. each photo captures her different expressions—laughing, pouting, lost in thought—and they all make you grin. 

the happiness you feel is bittersweet, knowing it’s all part of an arrangement that feels increasingly real to you.

your vision is a little unclear, but somehow it sharpens just so you can see her perfectly.

“fuck,” you gasp out, unlocking your phone and trying to navigate to your recent calls. you had called hanni earlier and she had just been lounging at her place. you figure that she’d be able to take you away from here.

you squint, pressing on the contact that has a and n, assuming it’s hanni, then wait as the phone rings.

“hello?”

“hanni, i’m… can you pick me up?”

“y/n?” her voice is muffled when it reaches your ears, “are you okay? what happened, where are you?”

“jimin… dragged me out. i drank… soooo much.”

“y/n, oh my gosh.”

“hanni, stay on the line, please.”

“i’m not–” the voice cuts off, you drop your phone on the carpet. “hello?”

“you have my location… right.” you slur, head leaning against the wall even more. “hanni i can’t do it anymore.”

“y/n, i’m on my way. are you alright?”

“hanni, i can’t.” you groan, staring up into space. “i don’t want to fake date danielle anymore. it feels too real, i hate it.”

silence follows before you hear the voice on the other end of the phone.

“you can’t? why, why didn’t you tell her?”

“she seems happy, and… we just, don’t acknowledge that it’s not real.”

“y/n…” 

danielle sits in her car, heart sinking. 

you dialed her on accident, and it doesn't seem like you know it’s her. 

“please come. please.”

danielle gulps, feeling tears forming in her eyes. 

–

danielle scavenges through the house your location on her phone has brought you to, looking around for you helplessly. 

she makes her way to the porch and spots jimin, who’s hands are on minjeongs neck as she holds her in place. danielle walks over, not wanting to disturb the intimacy, but you’re her biggest priority, so she’s willing to do so.

“jimin,”

she turns around, looking at danielle confusingly. “oh, when did you get here?”

“where’s y/n?”

“hmmm… she went to get drinks a while ago, she hasn’t come back yet. try the kitchen?”

“okay, thank you.” danielle says hurriedly, then rushes back inside.

she checks the kitchen, only to see jake and sunghoon with beers in their hands as they cackle loudly. you’re nowhere in sight, making her bite her lip in frustration.

danielle goes through every room on the first floor until she reaches a bathroom. she pushes the door open, and it suddenly stops, hitting someone. a groan escapes from behind the door.

"i'm so sorry!" danielle rushes out, peeking around the door to see who she’s just collided with. "y/n?" she gasps, eyes widening in recognition and concern.

you’re sitting against the wall, hair tousled and cheeks red. there’s a white tank top hugging you, the thin straps of it loose against your skin from your posture. 

“hanni?” you look up, squinting. “i wanna go home.” 

you see the figure move closer to you and close the door, then she squats down and you realize it’s not hanni. danielle comes into view, her eyebrows creased with concern. your cheeks flush even harder, and your lips part.

she puts a hand on your forehead, then cups her cheeks with both. “are you okay?”

“you’re not… hanni.”

danielle’s shoulders fall down a bit. “hanni um,” danielle hates lying, but she’s doing it now to save you from spiraling. “she sent me over.”

“oh.” the response from you cracks her heart slightly. “okay.”

"let's go," she says firmly, helping you up. despite being taller and more muscular than her, you lean on her for support. danielle manages to steady you with surprising ease, guiding you out of the bathroom and through the house, her grip strong and unwavering.

–

you collapse onto danielle’s couch and groan, your body is limp against the cushions.

a few moments later, she comes back with a cup of water, placing it on the coffee table before she sits you up. she tilts your chin up and you look at her with wonder as she grabs the cup and holds it to your lips, “drink.”

“mhm.” you mumble, sipping slowly and swallowing. 

your vision clears slightly, though it might just be danielle who’s grounding you. her concerned eyes meet yours, and while guilt tugs at you, you're also captivated by her beauty in this moment. you're drunk and out of your mind, thoughts muddled and unfocused.

“pretty.” you sigh dreamily. 

“y/n,” her voice is laced with uneasiness. “drink more water.”

“okay.”

“and stay the night, okay? you um, left…” she swallows hard, fighting back a frown. “you left your clothes here, i’ll go grab them.”

“can you stay with me though? will you? i really… just… i want you here.” 

danielle bites the inside of her lip, her eyes wide with confusion. just moments ago, you had admitted that you wanted to stop the whole ‘relationship’—that it had become too intense, too overwhelming. and now, you’re asking her to stay? her mind spins with the jarring shift in emotions.

you lean in, clinging onto her. danielle feels the warmth of your breath and the softness of your nose brushing against her neck. the touch sends a shiver through her, and she swallows hard, struggling to steady her breathing. as you pull back, your faces are mere inches apart. you lock eyes with her, your gaze heavy with so much. 

there’s a lump in her throat. “okay.”

–

danielle wakes up with you on top of her and your head in the crook of her neck. she hears you breathing softly and subconsciously, her hand slides into your hair.

why are you so confusing? danielle wonders, twirling your hair with her pointer finger. is this what you really want?

you’re incredibly considerate, a trait that’s always shone brightly. the way you go out of your way for her—planning dates, cherishing every moment together, simply because it makes her happy—fills her with a bittersweet feeling. she adores these shared moments, savoring the illusion of authenticity. but now that it’s clear that all of it strains you, it weighs heavily on her heart.

you stir awake, your breath warm and rhythmic against danielle's skin. as you hum softly, her cheeks flush a delicate pink. she feels the gentle pressure of your arms tightening around her, pulling her closer. you shift, nestling deeper into her, finding a more comfortable position. each movement sends a shiver through danielle, leaving her heart fluttering like crazy at eight in the morning.

she doesn’t know what to do.

–

danielle doesn’t ask you out or come over the whole week, excusing herself by saying she’s busy or caught up with things. of course, you don’t comment on it – she’s not really your girlfriend, you shouldn’t expect her time and affection. 

but then another week passes by and you don’t get any texts back, sometimes she even leaves you on delivered for hours. that’s not like her at all. 

you catch her in class and she’s still the same danielle you know – bubbly, pretty, and sweet – but that’s really the only time you see her these days. 

it’s confusing, all too confusing, so you barge into hanni’s apartment on a thursday evening because she’s the only one you can rant to about this.

“you didn’t even text me–”

“oh my god i think danielle fucking hates me.”

hanni lets you storm in, walking towards her room and flop onto her own bed. you look devasted, especially when you rub your face in your hands and groan loudly.

“okay, first of all: why the hell would she? second of all: yeah, why… why would she…?”

“she’s been avoiding me and i have no fucking clue why.”

“dude what.” 

you recount the entire story to hanni, animatedly illustrating every detail with exaggerated hand gestures. “so, jimin practically dragged me out to unwind, and i ended up drunk out of my mind!” you say. your hands wave dramatically, punctuating the story as you describe stumbling around, the room spinning, and how the whole ordeal felt like a whirlwind. 

hanni watches, her amusement growing as you explain the night’s events. “jesus.”

“yeah, and then danielle came and picked me up.”

“she did?”

“yeah… you called her over… didn’t you?”

“dude, what are you talking about.”

you pause, looking at her with confusion evident all over your face. then grab your phone, heart feeling strained when you see danielle posing with a stuffed animal that one time – out of many –  you two went to the mall together. you click on the phone app, looking at your recent calls and scrolling down to roughly two weeks ago.

you see hanni’s contact name, and then danielles after.

“hanni, did i… did i call you that night? two weeks ago, the friday night i went out.”

“dude you only called me that morning or something, you left something here.”

“oh my fucking god.” you gasp, putting a hand over your mouth. “oh my god.”

“y/n what.”

“i drunk dialed dani and i thought it was you. she told me you sent her to grab me…”

“what did you say to her?” hanni asks, looking at you with slight worry.

you groan, rubbing your face again. “i… i said i didn’t want to fake date her anymore.”

“oh, well that’s not too bad.”

“no, i remember it somehow. i said i hated it.”

your best friend looks at you, confused again. “you do?”

“yeah, but like, no?” you groan once more and fall onto the bed again. “hanni, i’ve… i’ve liked danielle since first semester.”

“oh.”

“yeah, oh.”

“you’ve been fake dating and simultaneously in love with her?”

you sigh. “yes.”

“holy shit.”

“yeah. i think she took it the wrong way, maybe she thinks i hate her?”

“you need to talk to her.”

“she doesn’t want to see me.”

“no, she’s so fond of you. i honestly think she likes you back.”

“okay it’s not the time for that–”

“shut the hell up bro.” hanni pinches your cheek and you slap her hand away. she begins again, “dude, she rambles about you and shit. there were times i actually thought you guys were really dating.”

“i wish.”

“then make it come true!” hanni groans. she pulls you up, then puts both hands on your shoulder. “you need to go talk to her, stop being a pussy.” 

“it’s not that–” 

your phone vibrates in your hand, snapping you out of your animated retelling. instinctively, you glance down and see a notification from danielle. hanni notices the shift in your expression, quirking an eyebrow as you stare at the screen, looking visibly distressed. she leans closer, peeking at the notification.

as your face unlocks the phone, the text is revealed: "can you come over? we should talk." your mouth drops open slightly in shock, and hanni mirrors your expression. the room suddenly feels heavy.

“dude.” hanni points at the screen – the obvious. “she–”

“fuck me.” you mutter, “fuck me.”

“dumbass,” hanni says, pushing you off her bed. you curse and look at her with “what the fuck?” written all over your face. hanni stands up and continues to push you out her room, saying, “go see your ‘girlfriend,’ even if it’s not real you better go talk to mo dani.”

you sigh, pushing her off you and grabbing your things before you walk towards hanni’s apartment door. you stare at the handle, then the text, and linger for a moment. hanni puts a hand on your shoulder and you look at her.

“i’m fucking terrified.”

“well you’ll feel even worse if you don’t go, so go.” hanni urges, opening the door and nudging you out.

–

the air is cold, it’s really just cold outside and it makes you shiver more than you already are just from the thought of the interaction.

you’re outside danielle’s work, sitting on the steps because you can’t bring yourself to go in and approach her directly. maybe it makes you a coward, but you’ve always been nervous about seeing her willingly and making the first move. the minutes stretch on, each one making you more anxious, but you can't help it. the thought of facing her, of initiating that crucial conversation, ties your stomach in knots. she called you out here anyway.

wind hits your cheeks and you bite your lip, walking around in your place in an attempt to warm up. then, you catch someone in the corner of your eye, so you turn around and meet danielle.

a loose sweater drapes over her frame, and wide-fit linen pants hide the shape of her legs. the wind tousles her hair just as it does yours, but she looks effortlessly angelic, stopping your heart for a moment. her hair, caught in the breeze, frames her face in a way that makes her seem almost ethereal, temporarily making you forget your worries.

then she’s walking toward you, and you remember why you’re here.

you swallow hard, body tensing. 

“thank’s for coming, i’m sorry i haven’t been.. um, able to spend time with you.” she looks nervous, her eyes avoiding yours and hands fiddling with each other. she stares at your necklace instead as she continues, “i’ve just… i wanted to talk to you about what we have.”

“right, i wanted to talk to you about it too.”

“oh,” danielle says quietly. “i’m sorry, i didn’t want to be a burden. you called me instead of hanni the night you got drunk and i know how you feel about fake dating. i’m sorry that you had to do it with me and it caused you so much stress i just–”

your heart aches as you listen to her ramble, guilt evident in her voice for something that’s not her fault. you can't bear to hear her blame herself. your brows furrow with pity as you gently cut her off, “danielle, no, let me–”

“stop, i want to make myself clear. i want to explain a lot of things to you, you’re so lovely and sweet and you don’t deserve to be so stressed. it’s just, okay, wait.”

she pauses, breathing in, and looking at you with tears lining her eyes. your breath shakes looking at her like that, you can’t breathe or speak in the moment.

danielle purses her lips before continuing, “okay, when hanni first said you wanted to date me, i got so excited because well, i always thought you were cute.” she turns her head to the side and bites her lip before looking back at you. “and then you said it wasn’t an actual date, you wanted it to be fake. i don’t know i just, i felt really sad when it happened but at the same time the thought of fake dating you didn’t seem too bad because i’m selfish and i mean, i liked you a little and i thought i could just fake it and revel in the artificial aspect until i got over it but i ended up falling for you so much and i’m sorry. i don’t want you to think im anything like sarah–”

“danielle, stop.”

“no, y/n i just want to explain myself–”

“danielle, shut up, oh my god.” you gasp, looking at her in disbelief. “you, are you fucking with me?”

she looks at you, still feeling guilty. when she blinks, two tears fall down her cheeks and she inhales sharply as she conceals a sob. she turns away, then murmurs, “no, i’m so sorry.”

“n-no, no. dani, danielle.” you almost breathe it out, then bring both hands to hold her face. your hands cup her cheeks making her face you. “please stop crying, i’m sorry, baby, i’m sorry.”

“b-baby?” she says, confusing taking over her features. you had gotten so used to calling her endearing pet names that it slipped out so suddenly in the heat of the moment.

the lights outside shine just enough for you to see her clearly. her eyes are watery, tears staining her cheeks, and you use your thumb to gently wipe them away. her nose is a little pink, and so are her cheeks. of course, she’s a pretty crier too, but you look at her with guilt, shaking your head as you continue to stroke her cheeks with your thumb. the sight of her like this breaks your heart even more.

“i only said i hated it because it was all too real, but not in a bad way. not at all.” 

“really?” she says between sniffles. “w-what do you mean?”

“i’m saying that,” you use your thumb to rub a tear threatening to fall from the corner of her eye. “i hated it because i couldn’t take the fact that it wasn’t real. i wanted it to be real. danielle, i’ve wanted to be yours since you first gave me the notes from the first lecture we had together.”

“what?”

“danielle,” you almost whisper, then kiss her forehead. “i like you so much. i don’t hate you, or this – i hate that it’s not real.”

her mouth opens in shock as she looks at you, sniffling. you anxiously wait for a response, hoping she'll say something, but she doesn’t. instead, she hugs you, wrapping her arms around you tightly. you return the embrace, holding her just as tight. the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you in the nerveracking moment.

“i like you too – a lot. i was so scared when you said you hated it, i thought i was making you uncomfortable and gosh i just felt so bad and–”

you rub her back with your hand and cut her off, “i was anything but uncomfortable, i felt like i was living in a fantasy.”

“thank god.” danielle sighs in relief. 

you pull away, looking at her again and wiping remnants of tears with your thumb again. “i’m sorry for making you cry.”

if you could go back and punch yourself for being stupid — you’d do it in a heartbeat. a dumb slip up and miscommunication from your lips is the reason danielle’s nose is still tinted pink from crying, you feel guilty as ever.

in your hands, it feels like you hold the world. she shakes her head in your hold, then smiles from relief.

“it’s okay.”

“are you busy after this?”

danielle giggles, shaking her head again. “if you’re asking me out on a date – a real one – then absolutely not.”

“dinner? it’s on me for being stupid that night, and this whole time.”

“perfect.”

you smile sweetly at her, your gaze lingering on her lips. before you know it, you lean in and boldly peck her right then and there. she gasps when you pull away, looking at you with widened eyes as you back off. but then, she reels you in again, leaning closer and kissing you once more. the kiss is soft and warm, filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that have built up between you. you feel her smile against your lips, and everything else fades away.

when you part again, you look at her fondly and ask, “wait, this is real, right? like, we’re…”

danielle laughs, hastily pecking you once more and lingering close.

“i don’t think it’s the alcohol that made you so dense and stupid.”

[belokhvostikova]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞 (𝐒𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐚'𝐬 𝐕𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧)

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | There comes a period where most relationships fall stale, yet Eddie never thought it'd happen to him and you, in fact, maybe even worse. With an intimate date planned in the comfort of your home, Eddie hopes to coax whatever thoughts are troubling your mind.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, crying, yelling, brief mention of drugs, mentions of financial insecurities, pregnancy, and discussions about abortions; open ended decision about the pregnancy, don't be alarmed, baby wanters/deniers :)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | This is, of course, my participation to @carolmunson's The Boy is Mine writing exercise! Rules can be found here, and you can check out everyone else's interpretation of my boyfriend here! I wasn't aware of any deadlines, so I sincerely apologize if this is coming too late, I just really wanted to be included, lol! <3

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5.9K

Like clockwork, the small pebbles of the man-made driveway had clung to the soles of your shoes. 

There had been nothing innately special about the four concrete steps it took to reach home, but today—much like the last few—had you yearning for the time in which the four concrete steps it took to reach home actually filled you with contentment. 

Happiness. 

Though now, nothing but dread resides within you, as your steps stomp out the once embedded pebbles to clack against the concrete stairs. Because now, a simple look to his face would tighten your chest with the burdens of guilt, as your newfound routine of rejecting his loving advances had suddenly taken over the once usual intimate greeting of a kiss hello. But as complicated as the situation had been, the explanation was actually the most simple: you’d just ruined Eddie Munson’s life.

But that’s quite the funny thing about communication. It breeds an eternal misery far worse than hope ever could, when chosen to be ignored for the sake of a peaceful calm. Because that’s all you were grasping for. Clammy fingers aching to hold onto the last snapping threads of tranquility if it meant keeping the peaceful life you both worked so hard to achieve. But the battle of the tumultuous anxiety you were fighting off to hold onto those threads was ultimately transpiring for the worst.

Because in return, Eddie Munson was beginning to fear the worst: he’d finally become nothing to you. 

Which is why, in a desperate attempt to rekindle the spark he still very much felt on his end, you would walk into the cozy trailer to find your eyes lit with the warmth of technicolor shadows, all casted from the benignity of yellow lamps illuminating soft duvets and sheets of creamy pastels and fuzzy neutrals. A childhood’s finest: a blanket fort. Strung along the comfy fortification had been dozens of twinkling Christmas lights that cascaded warm glowing hues against the cramped four walls of your home. 

A wonderland of innocence. 

With the loose hinges of the door announcing your arrival, Eddie has scampered out of the delicate fort of blankets, and peaked through his frizzy bangs, until his round eyes landed against yours. With a stool there, that one chair there, a tight tuck into the couch cushion, and a broomstick that played into the laws of physics to surprisingly stand on its own, the mastery of the ultimate blanket fort consumed your living room. All curated from the hands of Eddie Munson. Just for you. 

“H-Hey,” his stiff bones popped with the movement of his body, as he stood before you. “I, uh, can I just-”

Eddie’s hands worked to pry off the purse that slung itself over your shoulder, with your jacket to follow, before he crouched to the height of your feet to free you of the confinements of uncomfortable shoes. 

“What’s all this?” Tired from a slaving eight hour shift, your voice had only but a couple of octaves to work with. 

You watched his throat bob with a nervousness he never had with you before. Until you scared him. “I wanted to do something for you.” See, I still love you. “Y’know, f-for us. Just for us.” Don’t you? Your heart sank at the underlying worry that was tainting his sweet face. Because of you. Because you were ruining him right before your eyes. “H-Henderson came over and helped me out a bit, stopped by the Byers, too. Stole these off of ‘em,” his hands wavered to the strings of Christmas lights that glowed the dark walls into a fairytale setting, “can you believe they got, like, a shit load of ‘em?” He huffed out a laugh, in hopes of being some source of amusement for you, like he once was.

But with your guilt silently afflicting you, you found little reason to smile, which misinterpreted itself to the cementation that you were, in fact, sick of Eddie Munson. Long gone was the look of love that once beautifully invaded your eyes when you stared at him. 

“You didn’t-” Your voice got caught in your throat, not wanting to ask the question that would proffer the conversation you most dreaded. But it was Eddie. Your Eddie. With a soul like his, he deserved the honesty of your burdens. “Why did you do this?” You quietly asked. 

Humorlessly, the softest chuckle of disbelief scoffed from his nose, as his brows raised at you. Yeah, you, too, knew it was a stupid question. “I- you- something’s wrong.” His eyes pleaded for you to understand. 

Your eyes shamefully peered down at his bare feet, as your head shuffled in the smallest nod you could give. “I- um, yeah. C-Can you invite me in?” You gestured to the blanket flap that acted as a doorway to the fort. 

“Of course.”

Despite being a moment of financial insecurity, where Eddie couldn’t lavish you with dinner at Enzo’s to hash out the sudden shift in your relationship, perhaps the sentimental idea of a blanket fort was found to be quite perfect under the guise of appeasing the apprehensive worry from both parties. Because as two adults crawled on their hands and knees to enter the constructed tent of blankets and sheets, Eddie swore he heard the soft jubilance of giggles gently escape from your mouth; a sound he tortuously hadn’t heard in days. 

Your face glowed under the vibrant hues of string lights, as your hands and knees sunk into the soft cushion of blankets that displayed themselves against the carpeted floor of the living room, where the second-hand thrifted couch pillows propped themselves for your comfort to lean against. Unplugged from its usual habitat of the living room television stand—thoroughly just a small end table, secured from a flea market—Eddie had placed the small box TV within your newfound fort; a tranquil excuse of a buffer, in case the necessary conversation turned sour, and something was needed as a break to mitigate the tense discussion. 

Eddie would always allow you your Golden Girls. It always was quite the destresser for you. So, he’d risk the higher-than-usual light bill and the potential fire hazard it was to run an extension cord to, not only plug in the TV, but provide you the serenity of colorful lights, if it eased you to just finally talk to him. 

“It worked.” You turned your head to his lilted voice, as you awkwardly stationed yourself criss-crossed on the floor. “You’re smiling.”

It felt quite awful how relieved he’d become with the barely-there smile you’d succumb to. You wished he hadn’t found such joy in something so small, because it only led you to believe you’d given him so little lately, that he was only forced to lavish in the bare minimum. 

If only your mind hadn’t manipulated his happiness to be rooted in such cynicism. Because, yes, Eddie Munson did find such joy in the simpleness of your small smile. But Eddie had profoundly loved you enough to find appreciation in the most miniscule details of your beauty. 

Because what you hadn’t seen was that your barely-there smile had bloomed the suppleness of your cheeks to glow with the joy your mind so badly suppressed from you, as your eyes twinkled with the liveliness of your soul.

To you, it really may have just been a barely-there smile.

But your barely-there smile had been utter perfection in the eyes of Eddie Munson. 

“T-This is really nice, Eddie.” You sincerely spoke, as he found himself a cramped spot in front of you, lanky legs struggling to mimic yours. “Thank you.”

“You don’t gotta thank me.” He softly smiled back. “It’s been a while since I’ve done something nice for you.” Eddie Munson always did nice things for you. You don’t know where his admission came from. Yes, bills took over fancy outings, but wildflowers were picked in a bouquet of appreciation for you, home cooked dinners were attentively attempted to be served for you (he was slowly getting better by the days), and sentimental songs were delicately strung on his guitar to the lyrics dedicated for you. Yeah, Eddie Munson always did nice things for you. “I’m really sorry about that.” But his cynicism couldn’t help but match yours, where his mind believed that his love had to be showcased where it hurt his wallet the most. 

“Don’t say that. Don’t be sorry, please.” Your hands interlaced with his, as guilt ate at you. “Please, don’t- I- you’ve done nothing wrong.” Your mouth spewed in damage control. “Really, Eddie-”

“No?” His brows cinched in desperation for answers.

“N-No,” You stuttered under his scrutiny, as your hands brushed away from his to shield your eyes from the frustration that fermented in you. “It really isn’t- you didn’t do anyth-”

“Then what the hell is going on?” He pleaded. Eddie didn’t want to yell, never to face like yours, but the agony of being left in the dark was driving him to the precipice of exasperated resentment that he adamantly never wanted to feel towards you. Your mind raced about how you’d explain the turmoil you were in. His urgency had been lackluster in terms of support to your heaving chest, but you couldn’t blame him. He, too, was beginning to feel the crashing end of your relationship. He was frightened. “B-Because you’re never like this- never mean! And you-you’re not talking to me, n-not touching me, not even wanting me near you! I-I’m sorry, but I just can’t believe you when you say it’s not me, because it clearly is!” 

You could see the stinging tears torment his sweet eyes. It choked your throat, nearly having you projectile your breakfast in disgust with yourself. “N-No, it’s not-”

Rude, perhaps, but Eddie's endeavor to cut you off had been quite useful in derailing your rambles that typically ran in circles for the sake of avoidance. He knew you. “Then just tell me! O-Or, give me, I don’t know, some idea of what’s going on, b-because this isn’t okay-”

“I know-”

A single tear seared his cheek. “So, if you don’t want to be with me, just say that! I’ll change!” You broke. Sobs wailed from your mouth, as your head sunk into the comfort of your hands. Eddie’s jaw had fallen slack in panic, as he never once saw you cry—let alone was the reason—with such anguish that it stabbed him with such profoundness. His hands worked without hesitation to bring your shuddering body close to his. “No, no! I-I’m so sorry, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” Secured in his lap, Eddie’s neck became dampened with the hot stream of tears that were coaxing out of your. “Sh, sh. Don’t cry, please, don’t, I’m so, so sor-”

“I’m pregnant.”

Where he once caressed your back in soothing rubs, he now stopped at the sudden revelation, as your eyes screwed shut with fear. He felt you tense, in fact, you both did. Stood still, you held your breath, feeling the bob of his throat, as you anticipated the next words that would come out of his mouth. 

You severely underestimated the duration of fifteen seconds. 

Because every second of silence felt like torture to your heart, and Eddie was agonizing you with his quietness. Your heartbeat was bleeding into your ears, body flamming hot with intense feelings, as you tried to find comfort in his hard body, but his arms weren’t holding you in the manner you needed most. 

You pulled back. “God, Eddie, just say something!” Your wails had managed to snap something within him. 

His eyes blinked straight, mouth moving to speak the words he had difficulty finding. Eddie’s hands instinctively found your back once more, loving on you properly, as your body was finally able to melt into his. He cradled your head, attempting the slight movements of rocking back-and-forth to soothe your sobs. “I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for everything that’s happening!”

“No, no, no, no. I-It’s gonna be okay, alright? It’s not your fault- holy shit…” Eddie whispered into your hair. 

“A-And I-I don't know how it h-happened,” your anguished face pulled from his chest, as you sniffed the snot that congested your nose, while Eddie made quick work to smear off your hot tears. “I-I didn’t know how t-to tell you, I got so scared, I am scared!”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.”

You coughed out the weeps that burrowed in your throat. “I didn’t want this to happen!” You choked. “I- we were safe, I-I don’t know what happened! I’m so sorry, I didn’t- I don’t want to stress you out-”

“No, baby, no.” His face fell in torment of seeing you in such despair. 

“I just- I didn’t know how to tell you, Eddie.” You cried. “I know you don’t want t-this, and I panicked, because I don’t want you m-mad or-”

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m not mad at you.” His hand firmly cupped your burning cheeks, as his head confirmed his words with a fervent shake against your thoughts. “I- how could I be? I did this, too. I’m right here with you.”

“We-we just have a lot going on, I don't know what we’re going to do! A-And I just don’t even want to think about it!” Your body wracked with your spilling tears. 

“We- no, baby, we have options, y’know? If we’re not ready, we don’t have to do this. There’s, um, there’s adoption, right? Someone- we could help someone.” You shook your head adversely to his advice, as your words were true: you didn’t want to think about it. “O-Or, they- we can, y’know, get rid of it.” For lack of a better term. Your eyes sealed shut, head gnawing with pain. “You can totally do that, it’s okay, we don’t have to tell anybody if you don’t want to, just between us, and-”

Despite his best efforts, his words were doing little to soothe you over, as—though it was the necessary discussion—you weren’t looking for next-step solutions to your problem. “Eddie.” You quietly pleaded. 

“No, I’m serious. Don’t feel bad if you don’t want it. Or, maybe you do, a-and that’s okay, too. I’ll help, I’ll do everything. We can… c’mon, sweetheart, you know I wouldn’t leave you alone with this baby if you really wanted it-”

“Stop, Eddie! Please, stop!” You cried. “I don’t want to hear that, don’t want to think about it!” Your vision blurred away his pretty face. “I-I can’t right now! It’s all I-I’ve been thinking about for the past days, I’m t-tired, and just wanna-”

“Okay, so just cry.” His arms had tightened around you before you could process his movements. “Just let it all out.” Eddie had laid you down against the cushioned floor, letting your head fall back against the crocheted throw pillow threaded by his late grandmother, with its couple of loose strands of yarn soaking up your tears. 

Eddie Munson, as always, had laid with you, yet he never felt how utterly desperate you were in needing him than he did right now. You endured the humid heat of your cries in the crook of his neck, if it meant embedding yourself into his body. 

Just to feel him. 

With how much you deprived yourself from his touch, it felt dire to suffocate in the familiarity of his smell to drown in contentment. 

You grappled onto any piece of skin he had to offer through his faded t-shirt, as you frightfully clung to him. Your tears bled through the fabric of his clothes, as he gave you nothing but the safe embrace of his being that managed to make you break down in his arms. 

It was everything you needed. 

-

It was 7:03 P.M. Your sobs had knocked you into a deep sleep, where your mind was finally at ease from the troubles that tormented you. 

And Eddie Munson hadn’t taken his eyes off of you for exactly seventy-two minutes. 

You looked so peaceful, despite the rawness that rimmed your eye sockets. For once, the fresh air was able to seep into your nose, and fan out through the small opening of your mouth. Your face had cemented itself into Eddie’s chest, and from every chance he took to make slight movements for his comfort, it seemed your subconscious wasn’t ever planning on letting you leave his touch. So, despite the unfortunate circumstance, his mind was able to come to the realization that you did, in fact, still love him. 

Because you desperately were in love with Eddie Munson. Things had just gotten scary.

It was getting late. Dinner should have been happening now, and given how long Eddie took to dice an onion, he knew dinner would take nearly an hour and a half to make—it was blanket fort date night, for crying out loud, he couldn’t do the usual spaghetti. It had to be gourmet. Like, lasagna. 

Yeah, spaghetti’s older cousin, that’s totally gourmet! But now, wait a minute, how does one exactly make la-

You suddenly shifted, and Eddie quieted his thoughts, despite them never even being spoken aloud. If he knew anything about you, it was your ardent stance on never eating dinner without television. And with episode twenty-three of season four of your four favorite ladies airing at 9:00 P.M, it seemed your subconscious knew, too, to wake you up for the occasion. 

You freak. 

Through the soft murmurs of your waking, Eddie could hear the rumble of your tummy. You had been in a rush this morning, but even then, you promised him to never again consider a vending machine’s pack of peanut M&Ms lunch. Clearly, you did today. Liar. 

Because of his quick movements to get up, his aimed forehead kiss misdirected to your eyeball, forcing it to flutter open much earlier than you wanted. You groaned at his departure, watching him quickly crawl away through your bleary vision.

Despite your head feeling like thirty pounds of cement, and the suffocating heat the blanket fort was harboring, the commotion that occurred just outside within the kitchen interested you enough to slowly sit up against your sore back’s protest. 

After a minute of his bare feet pattering against the linoleum, Eddie’s head emerged into the blanket fort. “Here, grab this.” His arm extended out the overly large latched-lid mason jar—once occupied by honey, before it inevitably ran out a year ago—filled to the brim with iced water, and garnished with the two recycled straws from a once Benny’s Burgers milkshake. Your little face scrunched with tired confusion. “I ran out of, like, nice cups. This okay?” 

Ran out? Eddie just didn’t want to do the dishes. You huffed out a chuckle, “Yeah.” Your hands grappled to hold onto the cold jar, its condensation drenching your fingers. 

“And I- ugh.” He grunted, as his large body entered the tiny space. “Got some, uh, other things.” His prized notebook flew in with intentions of being used later. Perhaps for the excuse of giving him something to do, while you watched The Golden Girls. He wasn’t fooling anyone, though, he always eventually succumbed to the TV show, despite how cool he wanted to look.

“Why do you have that?” You tiredly giggled, as he settled in with a tub of vanilla frosting—Wayne’s fifty-second occurred three weeks ago, of course, you both had to make a cake… even if the older man grimaced with a faux mm to, at least, satisfy your efforts—and two spoons. The small ones, Eddie was quite aware of your love for tiny utensils. 

“Well, I, uh, I know it’s no better than those M&Ms you ate for lunch.” Caught. Your lips flattened into a straight line. “Yeah, caught your ass,” he laughed, “but I’ll give you a pass, since I put a baby in you.” And he laughed even harder at your unamused face. “Actually, no, I take that back, I need you to actually feed my kid, because what baby ever looked cute while looking like they’re on a keto diet?”

You didn’t want to laugh, damn it. “Eddie!” You whined. But his humor was surely putting a suppressed smile on your face, which totally would have shown if it wasn’t for your stubbornness. 

“Alright, alright, but I do know pregnant ladies like random shit, hell, I like random shit, so until dinner’s ready… bon appétit!” The French heritage he didn’t have came out with a horrible accent. “It’ll make you happy, right?”

Sugar in a tube, how could it not?

“I don’t know… kinda makes me teeth hurt-”

“Oh, my god, woman, you’re killing me!” His dramatic flair sent him falling back. 

There was your sweet laughter. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” You giggled with liveliness. “Thank you, thank you for the food… ish.”

You pried open the container lid, as Eddie handed you a spoon to down mouthfuls of whipped sweetness. There was a quietness to the moment that you didn’t want to disturb. 

The creaminess of frosting, as it scooped; the clink of silver from the spoon clashing with your teeth; the melodic swirl of ice cubes floating in the water; the soft squeak of your lips sucking through the straw to retrieve the refreshment. 

It was all too perfect.

Eddie’s hand had brandished your ankle, twiddling with your sock, as his eyes never left your figure. You could feel his eyes burning into you, waiting for the moment you’d speak about the situation. But it wasn’t coming like he hoped. You quite hated how those who never knew him could brand him with that trait of immaturity, when really it was you picking at a container of frosting to avoid communication. 

“So-”

“Do we have any Doritos left?” You interjected. 

Eddie blinked. “Uh… no, don’t think so. Think I took the last bag to practice.”

You dramatically frowned at him, as he softly chuckled at your exaggerated disdain. “Want some with the frosting.” You muttered, clearly unbothered by his grimace, as you scooped another spoonful into your mouth. 

“Christ, you really are pregnant.” Eddie Munson had you heartily laughing. 

“No, I used to do that way before I was pregnant, when I was a kid.” You defended. 

Eddie playful scoffed. “And I’m the one who got bullied when I was a kid.” His hand splayed over his chest.

“The sweetness goes really well with the savoriness!” You proclaimed. “Plus, you know Doritos have, like, a little tang, especially if they’re seasoned well, so it balances it out perfectly!” Quite the defense you had there. 

“And you like that?” What a big bully. You giggled at his face of disbelief.

“I don’t want to hear any of this, it’s your child inside me, God knows they’ll probably make me eat even weirder things!”

Humor. Eddie Munson clocked it. You were only going to get through this with humor. “No, no, I’m making this kid normal, it’s your Doritos-dipped-in-frosting genes that are gonna wonk ‘em up!”  

“No, I’m not!” Laughter flooded your mouth that dropped in disbelief, and suddenly you were flinging your spoon to traject whatever bit of frosting that was left to hit him. “You’re just as weird as me, if not, even more!” Eddie’s stomach was cramping at your utter offense, as he scraped off the white cream from his face, only to eat it. 

“Okay, well, listen if that’s the case, then can I show you something weird?” He proffered a shy smile. “But I’m already telling you now it’s weird, so you can’t be weird about being weirded out just because you find what I’m about to show you to be too weird. Alright? No weird comments.”

You snickered. “That was a lot of ‘weirds.’” Eddie raised a pointed brow at you. “Okay, I promise I won’t be weird, show me.”

With your promise, Eddie had reached to grab his small notebook, and maneuvered his way to sit himself right beside you; knees knocking and all with how close he wanted to be.

The pages had bulked up between the binding with just how much his pens and pencils engraved into the paper. You watched him flip through sketches and lyrics, a plethora of campaign ideas, even an old math equation here and there from when he attended school, and decided to actually pay attention, only to realize calculus could be fun if he just understood it. 

When it came to a particular page, dated on the fifteenth of seven months ago, Eddie had come to a halt, and your eyes inevitably landed on the detailed sketch of a sleeping figure that looked oddly like you (not oddly, two years in his presence was like being the muse for Johannes Vermeer).

“Um, I, uh- I mean, of course, my number one choice for a name is Ozzy.” He awkwardly laughed, as his finger fidgeted with the page, where your eyes were finally able to analyze the random scribble of names that blended aside the doodles of dark wizards. 

“Ozzy? You thought of names?” You incredulously peered up at him. 

Eddie laughed. “Before, b-before this whole thing happened, if that even makes it any less, uh, weird.” It was quite evident his sudden shyness was forcing him to stumble over his words. “Y-Y’know, just like one of those mindless things you think about when you’re, um, like, bored. And, w-well, really this is actually your fault, because you fell asleep on me,” his finger reverted back to the sketch of yourself, “so, really it was like you were forcing me to come up with these names, since I had nothing to do.” 

“And, of course, you landed on Ozzy.” You giggled, as your head dropped to his shoulder. 

“Well, duh, what Ozzy isn’t cool? Like Ozzy Osbourne, and… y’know… that other famous Ozzy from… history- but don’t worry about that! Just think about how perfect it’ll be when this kid becomes a rockstar like his old man,” Eddie proudly pointed to himself, “and they already got a metal name like Ozzy!”

Eddie Munson never failed to make you laugh. “Okay, but, like, what if this kid doesn’t want to be a rockstar? And y’know, now we’re the ones responsible for putting an Ozzy into the, I don’t know, medical field. Would you really trust a Dr. Ozzy to do your colonoscopy?” 

He pondered for a second. “Boom!” His fingers snapped. “Okay, we’ll do Oswald! If I can make Edward work, this kid can make Oswald work!” He protested. 

“Oh, great, just like Oswald Mosley.” Your eyes playfully rolled. 

“Yeah, see! A cool Ozzy!”

You laughed. “Eddie, I’m, like, a hundred percent certain that dude was some British fascist.”

“Shit, okay, well, scratch Oswald; Oswald sucks. We’re going back to Ozzy; Ozzy’s cool.” Christ, he was too perfect to handle. 

Your cheek squished against his shoulder, as you looked up to smile at him. “And if she’s a little girl?” 

Eddie beamed, coming down to plant his lips to yours. “I got that basis covered, too, babe.” You looked to where his finger was repeatedly tapping, and squinted your eyes to ready his barely eligible chicken scratch. 

“Ar… Arwen Munson.” You eyed him suspiciously. “What Arwen have you met that’s got you wanting to name our future child that?”

He chuckled. “From Lord of the Rings.” And he chuckled even more witnessing your dramatic eye roll, because how predictable! “But not just Munson, I got your last name down with it, too, if you’re more into that. Totally with that feminist shit, if you want me and the gremlins taking your last name.” 

“Oh, yeah?” You preened. 

“Mhm!” He smiled. “Could definitely hyphenate, but imagine the curveball the county clerk would get when they realize I’m changing my last name to yours. Think your folks would be okay with me becoming one of them?” 

Despite the fervent shake of your head, your smile never disappeared. “They’ll probably hate you for getting me pregnant before marriage.” 

Eddie snorted. “Ha! Our kid’s a bastard. Even I wasn’t. Jesus H. Christ, we’re really screwing him up.” 

“Him?”

“Ah, shit, just kinda came out as the default, maybe I’m not with that feminist shit as much as I thought.”

Eddie Munson was always one to make your cheeks hurt with how much he made you smile. “You’re so stupid.” You giggled, as he winked at you. 

You fell back against the pillows, as Eddie followed suit. Looking up was quite pretty. No matter how cramped or hot it was becoming in the blanket fort, the bleeding of twinkling colors made it all bearable. 

Like a little world just for him and you. 

You breathed heavily for a second, your hand linking with his. “Do you really want babies?” 

You heard his prolonged sigh. “I don’t know.” His eyes absentmindedly counted the individual bulbs of Christmas lights. “Don’t really like that white-picket-fence bullshit-”

“Prefer the trailer park chain fence?”

“Shut up.” He quietly laughed. “But, uh, I don’t know, I kinda like the idea of some little thing looking like you.” His hand squeezed yours. 

Heat flooded your cheeks, as your heart pattered with anticipation. “Even if it cries and poops all the time?”

“Hell, you and I already do that all the time now, think we can manage a third.” Then he paused. “But… I also kinda like just having you to myself, too. Just you and me holding down the fort.” He felt quite proud of irony.

Giggles were bubbling in your chest, before you took a minute to rationally think. “Eddie.”

“Yeah?” He whispered. 

“We were barely able to pay our light bill this month.”

“And we’re shit cooks.” He added.

“And our home smells like weed.”

“And you like to eat Doritos dipped in frosting.”

You both finally turned to one another, as his eyes met yours, where you laughed through the glassy tears that were flooding your eyes. “Having a baby sounds really scary-” Your voice broke like the little girl you suddenly felt like you were. Your soft cries were wiped by Eddie’s chest, as his arms protected you. “B-But getting rid of it a-also seems scary.”

His lips brushed against your cheeks in gentle shushes, as his whispers of, “I know, I know, I know,” bled into your ear. 

Twenty and twenty-two with ambitions that ran higher than the sky. And yes, perhaps grueling shifts at Joe’s Auto Repair or long hours at B. Dalton Bookseller weren’t exactly the desired dream, but they were stepping stones to the fruition of your aspirations. 

A little mini Munson wasn’t exactly going to fit in as easily as the housewives of Hawkins, Indiana made it out to be. Not in a trailer. Not in your life. 

“I just- I just don’t want to regret my decision. I don’t want to be selfish.” Your body shuddered into his body. 

His hand caressed your hair, as you felt his head shake to reject your thoughts. “Aw, no, baby, c’mon don’t be like that.” His lips soaked in your salty tears with his delicate kisses. “That’s not even true. Nothing you decide to do will be selfish.”

“No, but it is! W-What if I do what them, b-but money becomes an issue, it a-already is! They won’t have g-good clothes, a nice crib, not even their own room-”

“So, I’ll pick up more shifts at the shop, baby-”

You bore into his eyes. “But I want you to be happy, Eddie.”

Two years ago, when you both were still roaming the halls of Hawkins High, Eddie Munson had vowed to stick by your side through it all. High off of weed or not, the promise was real, cemented into his heart, and devoted to keep up with. 

Eddie whispered against your lips. “Being with you is what makes me happy.”

“But you deserve a life outside of this trailer.” Your hand crept to his cheek. “And anything I decide seems to not make me a good person. I just want to be a good person.” You sniffled. “If I have the baby now, it’ll be for my own selfish reasons of just wanting them. If I don’t, I’ll be for my own selfish reasons of not wanting to give up my life.” 

Eddie didn’t even mind you coughing in his face. “Y-You were right before, we could, y’know, help a couple out, but the pregnancy- I-I want my body, I don’t want to change, not if I don’t get to keep them. And even if I do, w-what if I take my baby home only to not feel anything for them like a mother should? Then what?”

Eddie sighed, as his thumb swept under your eye. “I don’t know why you’re making those things out to be a bad thing.” Your brows furrowed. “This is between us, and only us. Not a goddamn person in this world deserves to know what we know, and they sure as hell don’t get a say in it.” His eyes blinked down the soft tears that invaded his face. And he graced it with a smile on his face. “You wanna baby, I’ll get Claudia to give us all of Henderson’s baby shit, lord knows that poor woman still hoards it.” You giggled through your congestion. “And if you don’t wanna baby, I’ll hold your hand for as long as the doctors will let me, and hell, I’ll take you to Vegas the next day to party your heart out.”

Laughing as the tears poured down both your faces, you crept in closer to smush your nose against his to glue your lips together. 

Despite the salty taste invading your tongue, you devoured his mouth with the fervency of your love. 

A sorry for the lack of communication; a thank you for being the greatest person ever. 

With your teeth sinking into his lips, Eddie begrudgingly had to be an adult. “Fuck, if you don’t stop, we’re gonna cotinue having the same problem of you getting pregnant.” Even in the scariest of times, your Eddie was able to dissipate the fear in your heart, only to consume it with utter awe at the man before you. Your foreheads stuck together, as his hand circled your back, before whispering close. “Do you, and only you, have any idea as to what you wanna do?” He kissed his support to your lips. 

You sighed. 

You found out you were pregnant one week and three days ago. In fact, the four sticks—excessive, yes—continued to remain in your purse for Eddie’s own peace to never discover. As much as you could go back-and-forth in logistics and dreams, there was always the truth of what you wanted for you and Eddie that seemed to circle back whenever you decided to give your mind a rest. 

It was always there, just hidden in the tangle of overthinking burdens. Eddie Munson would never let that be a bad thing, he quite liked your mind very much. 

So, you wouldn’t let it be a bad thing. 

You could hear his voice already, “It just means you’re thorough. I, sure as hell, am not.” 

You delicately smiled, as you peered into his eyes. “Yeah.”

And Eddie was there to smile right back at you. “And how do you want me to help?”

“I don’t want your help. I just want you there with me through it all.” 

[casperth3ghost]

"mundane hcs" but its acc just shit i do on a daily basis

ANYWAYS, a list of random things i do that i think tts & vat7k characters would do‼️(this is like most characters btw, like not js the main ones this is like as many as i can remeber and that fit with my self projection

lance will get home from the busiest day ever and the first thing he does is make himself a bowl of ice cream, no matter what hour of the day, he WILL have a bowl of ice cream

varian tries to brush his teeth twice a day but usually how it goes is he takes a shower and then lays and bed lying to himself like "yeah ill js rest my eyes for a couple minutes and then ill get up" and then he actually falls asleep, but every morning he brushes his teeth with no problems

eugene used to brag about how many cavities hed get until he had to take care of them and started missing when he didnt have any

rapunzel can be mid convo with somebody while texting them and then out of the blue just space out and like "huh..." when she realizes what js happened

cassandra and yong are both lactose intolerant but cass tries to take care of herself(she drinks almond milk & eats frozen yogurt which are 10/10 alternatives for non-lactose free items BTW) but yong just keeps eating everything and then wonders why he feel absolutely diobolical 10 mins later

catalina says shell start a book and then reads 1 page then forgets about it for around 3 months ans then remeber and the gets so focused on it no one knows if shes okay, angry does the same thing but with tv shows

nuru tends to not stop what shes doing to go pee so shes suffered the consequences(shes had a UTI before)

rapunzel, despite telling everyone around her to drink water, shes always suprisingly dehydrated

ulla will wake up at random times at night wondering why the fuck shes awake and then go right back to bed like nothing happened

donella has thought of multiple schemes to kill people but has decided that for her own good she will not commit any of them

quirin forgets to say please and thank you at restruants and then says them last minute and then gets so embarrassed and akward he will just flat out stop talking, he passed this onto varian who seems to suffer with this to even MORE extent bcuz he doesnt realize when someone is complimenting him so he'll just stare at them and then be liek "oh!! oh my gosh thank you!!" but the person already walked away and now he feels like an asshole

adira will wear the same pair of pants for 3 weeks straight w/o washing them bcuz she wears other pairs in between that pair so she has a pant cycle, but none of the pants get washed until she can acc smell like dog shit on them or smth and realizes just how morbidly gross they are

hector says hes a hopeless romantic but has never fallen in love a day in his life

donella knows every word to satisfied from hamilton but she literallt doesnt relate to angelica in any way, shape, or form

catalina is a shameless taylor swift fan

angry is a taylor fan but she will always refuse to admit it bcuz idk she feels ashamed

rapunzel will find a band that scratches her brain and listen to that band until it is literally impossible for her to do so anymore

cassandra loves fettuchini alfredo

king edmund is an accidental social butterfly

queen ariana had attempted to drown willow in a pool more times than she can count

kind fredric will butt into random convos if even just 1 word peaks his intrest

hugo knows how to crochet but never has enough money or motivation to actually make something even mildly useful

hugo is a "booktok" girly but he doesnt and never has had enough money to invest in the shit ton pile of books he wants

varian would rather go to a meuseum then lay in bed at his house

ulla would do cartwheels in an aquarium if she could w/o getting kicked out

cyrus says goodnight and goodbye to everyone but can never muster up to say "i love you" after just bcuz he thinks itll be too akward😓

amber is the type of gay girl to say "ewww lesbian/gay" to her friend/gf bcuz they say smth gay knowing she is just as queer

uhhhh thats all i can think of rn, but like this is mostly based off shit i do... so take all that as you will🤺‼️ ill post any art i decide to shit out in the next couple of days on here but also a reminder i am painfully active on pintrest so uhhh ya:3!! BTW most of these hcs are just stupid and for fun so like pls dont get offended and feel free to add on or give suggestions:3!!

[kurosstuff]

prompt 7 or 8 with Lute, but have fem!reader be the sub 🍯

Hope you enjoy these~ I hope you don't mind I used both prompts♡♡

Warming(s) straps, first times, it's smut, small dirty talk(?), lutes attempts at praise. Detailed lf a "stomach bulge" a bit? Idk if thats a warning. Lute being mean and nice? Idk

Gonna kinda jump right into this and it's kinda short hope you don't mind

Lute x f!reader

Truly. You didn't know how you got into this mess-

Firstly- Adam sent you to retrieve Lute for a meeting, which was hours ago. But here you are in her room. On her lap making out with her "gon-gonna be late~ Adam wants you~" you whsipering moaning against her bruised lips- causing her to snarl biting at your equally if not more bruised lips

With little effort, she flipped you around, so you laid on your back under her flushed seeing her smirk "don't give a shit if I'm late~ I want one thing and one thing only~" purring out kissing you deeply groaning loudly kissing the obvious question off your lips "don't tell me you don't know~?' Seeing you shake your head, she hummed, grinding against you to feel the toy she wore

"You. Obviously. I want to fuck you"

Hearing that? Made you yelp, covering your face in embarrassment as she striped, huffing smug as she saw how in awe you are. How you peaked watching her "oh come on~ I dont bite~", grinding on your lap to feel the toy on her waist "much~" pushing your hands away kissing you roughly, moaning at the broken whine escaping your throat

Flushed watching her practically rip your shirt open, shredding it with little to no concern. "Wait! That's my shirt!" Yelping out before she kissed you again - mumbling something about getting you another later. Leaving marks across your body in her wake. "fuck~ eager, h-huh?" Whining out under her

Snarling loudly, she nodded, stepping back, pulling her pants down, finally showing you the toy she had "yeah maybe I am~? Why can you blame me?" Purring out, spreading your legs open for her settling between them reaching a hand down rubbing your entrance slowly "gonna be a good girl and let me fuck this pretty little pussy~?" Purring out pushing a finger in slowly to tease. Slowly stretching you for her

Moaning loudly flushed, nodding shakily clinging to her bed tightly, "Please ~? Fuck me?" You begged under her panting heavily watching her groan. Smirking, she nodded, watching you grind against her before pulling away lining the silicone dicks tip to your entrance pushing in slowly but roughly. Holding your waist tightly relishing in the whines you let out

"Oh stop fucking whining~ you can take this dick can't you? Come on~ say. It" Lute smirked smug, pushing more into you, hearing you cry out flushed, panting heavily

"Ive- I've never done this before~" you stuttered out, shakily opening your legs wider for her gasping softly "i- I can take it~" Feeling her freeze tensing up over you panic on her face as she took in your words.

"This is your first..? Shit ok- it's ok~ I've got you ok? I'll take good care of you~ just lay back and relax~" Rubbing your waist, kissing you almost more gently, then before the rough kissing "ill- I'll be gentle. Make you feel so good, ok?" Her wings fluttering in embarrassment or a show? You weren't sure.

Nodding, you smiled, moving to wrap your arms around her neck and pulling her into a deep kiss, moaning softly. "I trust you ok~? I'm glad.. its you" you whispered against her lips as she slipped all the way into you, dragging out a loud whine moaning

Humming, she nodded, gently moving to pound into you- marking your neck up, unable to be gentle dispite her wanting too "fuck~ just like that little dove~" she snarled out flushed wings fluttering at the yells of her name leaving your mouth "go on~ let everyone know who's fucking you so good yeah~?" Whining softly a hand on her bed the other on your lower back pulling you impossibly closer as she eagerly- almost hungrily fucked into you

Nipping at your neck at the red bruising mark, she smiled at the almost possessive marks she left on you- as if she truly was claiming you for herself in such an almost selfish manner. "Harder~, please ~?" You sobbed out, grinding into her, trying to match her pace. Humming leaning back, who was she to object to her beloved dove? Holding your waist pounding rougher into you, rutting into you, making your sob out arching more against her bed clawing at her back careful to avoid her wings

"Fuck like that dove? Such a whore for my cock?" She snarled out panting nails digging into your waist watching how the bulge in your stomach expanded and vanished from her pounding into you- biting her lip hearing your pleas for her "fuck that's it my dove~ that's what I wanna hear~" she growled out leaning over you more pounding faster "so good for me~ so tight~"

Sobbing our kissing her deeply, wrapping your legs around her waist, pulling her deeper, making you practically mewl under her squealing from the spot, she hit roughly eyes rolling back "g-gonna can i-? Can I please~?" Sobbing out loudly,

Hearing you beg? Made her practically purr over you nodding "go on little dove~ cum for me~?" She growled our her pace unrelenting even as you screamed releasing around her cock "fuck~ good girl~" panting heavily helping you ride our your high before finally pulling out Of you softly panting

"What- what about you?" Shakily pulling her onto them, she hummed, rubbing one of many bruises left on you, making her shake her head, easily pulling you on her chest. "Rest. Their will be more next time~" she whispered against you, making you hum smirking. "There's gonna be a next time?"

Looking away, grumbling, "of course there will be.. if you wish for that as well" she hummed, flushed wings puffing softly smug. "I'll properly clean you up when you have your breath i.. uh I'll make a bath for you- or whatever you need" clearly not understanding how to do aftercare.

Smiling, you nodded, kissing her gently panting "as long as you join~" nuzzling into her neck knowing later. You'll both need to talk about what happened but for now. You just want to be held by her. In her arms. Safe

[celtigxr]

The Pink Dread (Master List) - - - - - ch. i : Return of the Crabs

Chapter Summary: Valeana Celtigar and her family return to King's Landing after receiving a personalized invitation from King Viserys. She is filled with dread; Val doesn't know how she is going to face Aemond Targaryen after all he had done to her...

Word Count: 3460 

PLEASE READ THE PROLOGUE BEFORE READING CHAPTER 1

Sneak Peak: “Blink, sister,” the tall presence of her brother approached from behind her. Clement bowed over her shoulder, “He isn’t going to appear out of nowhere if you blink.” She blinked, not because he told her to, but because she didn’t realize she wasn’t until he spoke. Valeana looked down at her white knuckles, “I don’t want to be here.”

Warnings: Insults, swearing.

T H E   R E D S

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"I said tighter," Floris seethed, her fingers curling around the wooden column as her maid pulled the laces of her bodice. 

"I am trying, my lady," the little maid said, her fringe stuck to her sweaty brow. The poor thing was trying to keep her footing as the ship rocked to and fro against the tides of Blackwater Bay. 

"You're clearly not trying enough," Floris spat as she threw her a look over her shoulder. "Perhaps I should get a sailor to do it, they seem to have a better grip when pulling on ropes."

Valaena let out a short, loud, laugh from the floor where she sat. 

"What are you laughing about?" Floris casted her eyes at her step sister briefly.

"Nothing, sister," Val bit her lip to contain her smile, eyes concentrating on her task at hand. She looked up at her other sister, who's skirt she was trying to mend. "Shyla, I'm going to need you to stop moving." 

"I can't!" Shyla squealed as she nearly lost her footing on the stool she was balancing on. Her hands were firmly planted on another wooden pillar, trying to keep her balance with the waves that rocked the ship. However, it resulted in her hips moving around and thus swishing around the skirt that Val was trying to mend. 

"Fuck!" Val cursed when her needle slipped and landed in the pad of her finger. Curling her lip into her teeth, she let out a frustrated growl and then sucked on her finger. "This is the last time I'm helping you. This wasn't a dress meant for you to travel in, Shyla." 

"But it is so pretty, I couldn't wait to wear it!"

"And now you've ruined it," Floris added in frustration. Her maid was starting to lace further up her back, pinching her shoulder blades as she did.

"Not on purpose!"

Val rolled her eyes, "Everyone and the Seven warned you not to run on deck." 

Shyla rarely listened. The dress lasted all of two hours before Shyla went running around the deck, which was still sleek from being waxed. She went sliding down the ship on her heel, and the intricate hemming of her brand new gown caught a splinter in the wood and tore the work Valeana had put into it the week prior

Val inhaled deeply and sighed steadily through her nose, deciding to make quick work of the damage, instead of trying to bring back the hem to its former glory. She had to dress herself, and they would be docking at King's Landing soon. A fact that she was dreading with each passing day since they received the royal invitation, personalized by the King himself. 

On any normal occasion, her father would have come with only Clement since it was considered treasonous to refuse a King’s invitation, but he would not have brought anyone else. He was still quite bitter about the event that transpired ten years ago, and so was Valeana. The Red Keep held nothing by rotten memories she had tried to disremember all this time. Alas, this "Royal Conclave" was a proposal that Bartimos Celtigar couldn't resist. Most if not all the high born lords of the Seven Kingdoms would be in attendance with the intention of marrying off their children and forging alliances.

All the Celtigar children, including his step daughter (at the ripe age of four and twenty) were not betrothed, and Bartimos was getting impatient with their ennui of their lack of prospects. Well, Floris seemed far more eager to change her father's name and bare the cloak of her future husband, but finding a suitable match for his wife's daughter was proving difficult. It wasn't the dowry that was the problem, it was her character that seemed to be too bitter on the pallet of any suitor they had conversed with thus far. As for his other daughters -- Shya was still young, she would have time yet, and as the youngest of the girls, she wasn't a high priority. It was Valeana he worried for the most -- There was no man alive that he deemed worthy of her hand. 

Though to be perfectly honest, it seemed Valeana was quite content with her father being so picky. She would be fine becoming a Septa if that is what the fates wished for her.

The door opened, nearly slamming against the wall when the ship bucked. Her step mother, Ursula, entered, looking a bit green in the face as she held a handkerchief to her lips.

"We are almost there," she said, swallowing thickly with her eyes closed. "I can see the spires... Gods, I hate sailing." 

And yet you married a Lord of the Sea, Val wanted to say, but bit her tongue as she finished her mending. 

"Why aren't you dressed yet?!" Her step mother slammed the door shut and gripped the wall. "We dock soon, child, and I will not have you enter the Red Keep looking like a common seamstress."

"I have been otherwise detained," Val stuck her needle in a pillow, then wiped her hands on her grey skirt. She turned to her step mother, back composed, feet planted as if she were part of the ship's skeleton itself. A true born Celtigar, if there ever was one. The Targaryens have their dragons, but the Celtigars and the Valeryons had their ships and the unpredictable chaos of the sea. "Mending the dress your daughter ruined."

Ursula's eyes moved over to Shyla, her frown deepening in disapproval, "You see? Your actions not only cost you a brand new dress, but it cost your sister's time!" 

As Shyla whined and her mother nagged, Valaena went over to where her dress lay waiting for her. The maid had finished with Floris, and immediately went to Valaena's side to aid her. The dress was vermillion, like the crabs that march across their banners. There were pearls strung from shoulder to the dip of the sweetheart neckline on both sides, and loose trumpet sleeves that flared out at the elbow and ended with a thick strip of ivory lace. The hem of the skirt held the same lace pattern, and the vermillion fabric tiered on top of an ivory skirt underneath. Shyla wore a similar coloured dress, though with a more modest cut to compliment her long neck, and her pearls were beaded into a silk choker, and dangled from her ears and hair. Floris was of a different red, deeper and accented with gold, and black silk ribbons laced up her back. They were the colours of House Grafton.

 The three dresses were of Valeana's making, which she had spent days crafting with the help of maids. Ursula insisted on making a statement upon arrival. 

Valeana held onto the column as the laces were tightened around her waist. She flinched and placed a hand on her ribs.

"Make it nice and tight," Floris examined her own body's profile in the floor length mirror, flattening her hand over her chest and stomach, and then squared her shoulders in pride of her slim figure. "We can still see your stomach, Valaena."

"I wish to breathe, sister," Val rolled her eyes, then looked down at her gown and found no such evidence of a stomach's rolls showing through the fabric. She made sure none would. 

It was evident that Valeana was still the thicker and curvier of the three sisters. Shyla and Floris both boasted their mothers impossible slim and tall figure, whereas Valeana would be cursed with her father's wider frame. She supposed it could be worse; she could have still weighed as much as she did as a child. Fat also blessed her with an ample chest, which Valeana would call a burden when given a chance. Her back would ache for hours after horseback because of it, but she couldn't deny it gave her figure a sense of balance. She still retained much weight in her hips, thighs, lower belly, and buttocks, but the size of her breasts equalized her pear shaped body. 

Whilst her maid tied her up, Valaena made quick work of her hair. They had little time to do anything intricate, so she pinned back the thick locks and fastened a matching red rounded hood headpiece to the crown of her head. It too was lined with pearls, which blended in with her platinum hair. At her lobes she hung tear drop pearl earrings, and a matching string of them to disappear into the bodice of her dress.

There was a knock on the door, “We are docking!” Bartimos’ voice boomed through the door. “Are we decent?” 

Valeana tightened the straps and harnesses of her prosthetic leg around her thigh before fastening her red stocking along her leg. She gave a nod to her step mother, who confirmed they were in fact, decent, giving him permission to enter. 

Bartimos donned garments of deep vermillion, a bronze chain with crab broaches fastened his cloak on his shoulders. His daughters have never seen their father so regal and proud. 

“Oh, look at my girls,” the lines around his eyes deepened as he smiled. “You will be the envy of all the ladies in court.” 

He said this to all of them, but his eyes were on Valeana, and Floris was acutely aware of that. She was always aware of where her step father’s eyes landed on when he gave compliments.

As the family gathered on deck, they crowded at the bannisters to watch the city as they neared port. Shyla bounced on her feet excitingly, Floris watched with quiet dignity, her nose in the air and a subtle smile on her face, and Valaena gripped the wood with blunt nails. King’s Landing had not changed; it looked just as she remembered. It smelled just like she remembered. 

“Blink, sister,” the tall presence of her brother approached from behind her. Clement bowed over her shoulder, “He isn’t going to appear out of nowhere if you blink.”

She blinked, not because he told her to, but because she didn’t realize she wasn’t until he spoke. Valeana looked down at her white knuckles, “I don’t want to be here.”

“I don’t want you to be here,” Clement concurred. “But it will only be three turns of the moon, mayhaps four, not ten years. Shorter if you find a husband as soon as possible.”

“I don’t want a husband either,” She sighed, closing her eyes. Her father’s pickiness over her suitors really only extended to the sons of the lords that reached the eastern shores of Westeros. Bartimos may find his perfect match with a lord or a lord’s son from a kingdom far from home. 

Clement’s lips thinned, not knowing how to sooth a woman doomed to a life she did not choose. He was sure she was tired of hearing the arguments of a woman’s duty to her house, and how she will one day find love for her husband, and if not, she will love the children she bore for him. All half-truths and poor words of encouragement that everyone young lady like her were given. Instead, all he could do was plant a kiss upon her head. 

“At least we know it won’t be a Targaryen,” he said, his voice light with an attempt at a jest. 

Valaena scoffed and elbowed him. 

When the anchor was dropped, and the ropes were draped over posts, Val realized when she looked around that there were no Velaryon flags attached to any of the ships docked. The invitation had mentioned that the Valyrian houses were to reach King’s Landing before other Lords arrived. She would have thought it odd, since Driftmark and Dragonstone were so much closer to King’s Landing, but the tensions between Princess Rhaenyra and her family were well known by now. 

“Do you think they’ll come?” Val fell into step with her father as they walked off the ship and made their way over to the wheelhouse that awaited them. “Princess Rhaenyra and the Velaryons,” she clarified. 

“When I was at Dragonstone a sinnight ago, she had not made a decision,” he confessed, waiting at the entrance of the carriage, allowing his wife, step daughter, and youngest daughter in first. He placed a fatherly hand on her shoulderblade as he ushered her inside, “If she does, I fear dragons will dance.”

As Bartimos clambered in after the women, his youngest, Arthor, gripped the door and turned to his elder brother, who was mounting a horse. The wheelhouse only carried six. 

“Then let us pray to the Old Gods and the New that she does,” Arthor smirked devilishly. “I grow weary in peace.”

Clement fought the urge to roll his eyes, instead busied himself with adjusting on his mount, “Peace is all you’ve known, dear brother. Be careful what you wish for, or you’ll find out how easily war can begin and how hard it is for it to end.” 

T H E  G R E E N S 

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“Your Grace, the Celtigar banners were spotted entering the Iron Gate,” Ser Arryk stated after he was permitted to enter the King’s chambers. 

Alicent watched with mild astonishment at the way her King husband lit up at the news. The Viserys before her was a man new; a stranger to his wife. She married a man with a broken heart and a failing body. She slept with a living corpse and bore his children. The man standing before her, no longer hunched over, no longer gaunt, no longer pallid like a spoiled egg, no longer weighed with his regrets and or tired from his burdens. 

He wasn’t polished, by any means. His hair did not grow back, but it had a healthier sheen. His hands may be missing a finger each, and he may have to walk with the aid of a cane, but if a stranger from lands unknown saw this man now, they would see an old King that had it all. 

His Queen couldn’t fully comprehend where his sense of hope and happiness stemmed from. She had never been close to death (nor wished to), but some say if you survive the odour of the Stranger’s breath, the scents of the world become more vibrant, and you lust for life like a boy of four and ten lusts for long silky legs and a pair of supple breasts.

“Excellent,” he spoke through his grin, extending his arms as his steward fitted him for the blood red jerkin. “What of my daughter, or my cousin?”

Arryk shared a look with Alicent before shifting his gaze back to his king and gave him a subtle shake of his head, “Not yet, Your Grace.”

Viserys’ eyes shut painfully, and a large sigh filled his lungs and sagged his shoulders. The brief moment of disappointment, of worry, shifted back to optimism, albeit a smaller dose of what it was half a minute ago. 

“That is fine,” he nodded as if the motion would convince himself, “They will come, I know it.”

Alicent stared at her husband in silence, her jaw clenching as she swallowed her words. In his optimism, he was far more stubborn and less willing to listen to her and her father’s skepticisms over this whole “Royal Conclave” he came up with. It wasn’t a terrible idea, in fact, Alicent quite liked the thought of bringing the Realm together; it would serve the Hightowers more than anyone else, should they make marriage alliances with powerful houses. However, it was Viserys’ belief, his hope, that it would end the tensions between the three Valyrian houses. They hadn’t seen Rhaenyra and her brood ever since the day Aemond lost his eye, and it was even longer before they last saw a single member of the Celtigar House. As far as she was aware, they had not left Claw Isle since they returned to their seat, save for Bartimos and his heir when they had business at Pentos, Dragonstone, Driftmark, or in Gulltown. 

“We shall meet Lord Bartimos and his family in the Throne Room,” Viserys continued, eyes focused on his visage in the floor length mirror as his steward brushed off stray threads and hair on his shoulders. “Ser Arryk, call upon Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond to be present as well. We must greet our guests as a family.”

Alicent straightened herself in her seat, “Do you think that is wise, husband? After– Afterall,” she quickly changed her words. “They must be exhausted from their journey.” 

“It would be rude if we do not. They are one of our guests of honour, Alicent,” Viserys shook his head. “They enter our gates with their entire brood in toe, and we shall greet and welcome them with our own.”

Ser Arryk bowed his head and left with the instruction, and all Alicent could do was sink back in her chair with her worries. She was not afraid of Ser Bartimos; blood of Old Valyria they may have, and fortunes plenty, but the Celtigars did not hold much influence outside their corner of the eastern shores. They lived in the shadow of the two other Valyrian houses that still named their children Valyrian names, and still followed the Valyrian traditions. Where the Targaryens and Velaryons still marry near to close relations, the Celtigars had strayed from that, preferring alliances with other houses to keep their coffers full, rather than their blood pure. In that regard, Alicent had much more respect for that house than any other, but at the end of the day, they weren’t regarded with as much intimidation as they ought to be given.

No, a rift between Targaryens and Celtigars wasn't what Alicent was worried about. 

She was worried about her children, particularly her two oldest sons, who had grown up to be arrogant, impulsive, lethal, entitled, and impertinent. Bartimos’ girls had already suffered enough at the hands of her sons, and Alicent's thoughts plagued with the possibility of it only continuing where it was left off. Had she had a choice, she would’ve had the Celtigars raise tent pavilions around the Tourney grounds like the rest of the houses, ensuring that they did not cross paths. Alas, as their guests of honour, they will hold apartments there in Maegor’s Holdfast, as they once had when they resided at the Red Keep. 

Alicent ran the pads of her fingers over her forehead, where she felt a headache bloom with her anxieties. She dare not even think of what will happen should Rhaenyra and Daemon decide to come back. 

“It was a regrettable accident,” Rhaenyra had said when her son sliced Aemond’s eye out of his head. 

“It was a regrettable accident,” Alicent had said when her son pushed Valeana down a flight of stairs. 

“And Valeana Celtigar was an innocent where our son is not,” Her husband had said in their bedchambers at Driftmark. “I will not cast a blind eye at your hypocrisy, Alicent. If you want retribution, you will have to give Bartimos Celtigar the same.”

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“Well done, my prince,” Ser Criston said, his brow sweaty, but brown eyes full of pride. “You’ll win tourneys in no time.” 

“I don’t give a shit about tourneys,” Aemond replied, hand still lifted, his sword still poised to the white cloak’s shoulder. His eyes never wavered from his mentor, not even when acknowledging Ser Arryk’s presence. “Ser Arryk. Have you come to join us, or to collect me?”

“Collect,” Ser Arryk replied, looming at the gates of the training yard. “His Grace, the King, Queen Alicent and the rest of your family are in the Throne Room to receive the Celtigars.” 

“I have no taste for crab,” Aemond sheathed his sword and went to collect a rag to wipe the sweat from his brow. 

“The King wishes for all members of the royal family to be present,” Arryk pressed, hands clasped patiently in front of him. 

“Hm,” Aemond stood up straighter, sharing a look with Cole before finally looking at the long haired knight. “Then should we not wait for Rhaenyra and my nephews? I heard their banners have not reached port, so we have plenty of time.”

Arryk casted a glance at Criston, silently pleading for him to speak reason onto his mentee. 

With his own rag, Criston wiped his brow, face and neck, “My prince, perhaps it is wise not to test the King’s patience.”

“He seems to have much of that for everyone outside his own kin,” Aemond’s words had a bite to them as he slapped the rag onto a wooden table. “Fine, but I will not be changing. The Throne room will reek of pigs anyway.” 

Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.

[slickchickchocolatier]

Myyy loveeeee, i just read the Heethan imagine withe period on the Bed. What would heethan do if we got a period stain in public? (It happend to me in 8the grade, i didnr go to school for 3 days cuse i was sooo embaressed XD)

Love youuuu❤️🫶🏼

“Sorry about that babe…”

Warnings: Some minor fluff, reader has her period unexpectedly, public humiliation, think that's it really.

Hope you guys enjoy this Drabble. Ngl I think this happens to the best of us, so my dear @lisaaannna, you aren’t alone in this.

Thank you for taking the time and reading my stories and drabbles. To show your support, please consider donating into my ko-fi account ♥️

“Pretty baby! Are you ready?” 

“Coming down!” 

Responding to Heeseung’s call, you make your way down the stairs hastily, phone in hand, and a soft smile on your face to greet him with. “Sorry, babe.” 

“No worries, are you okay?” His voice published a sense of concern after noting that you took a bit longer in getting ready, yet you weren’t elaborately dressed or decorated. Donning a simple sundress with subtle low heeled sandals, you nod in reassurance as he receives you in front of the last step. Quietly, you inform him of the false arrival of your time of the month. “Yeah I’m fine, I had some minor cramping and figured it was…you know– but it ended up being a false alarm. It will probably hit later this week.” 

Raising his hand, he delicately cups your cheek and stares intently into your eyes. “You sure you feel okay going out today?” 

Eagerly, you nod once more as you give your answer, expressing an adorning look from his affectionate sense of concern. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m excited!” 

His eyes shift low as he gives a single nod with a faint smirk. Taking you by the hand, he kisses your forehead and leads you out the door. The group had planned well ahead of time for this day to come, the opening of a new theme park. Everything had been coordinated months ago, and the tickets had all been pre-bought to secure everyone’s attendance at the festive opening of the new resort. It wasn’t a day that you could possibly give up, not after waiting for so long, especially since you had been looking forward to going with Heeseung, considering you both had yet to attend such a fun-filled event. Though he displayed his usual reserved and stoic countenance, he was just as eager to take you out. Any moment where he found himself spending an entire day doing everything with you, became the highlight of his life. Even though he prefers to stay at home with you, he realizes that taking you out on recreational dates was something you desired and appreciated, and he was happy to oblige so long as you met his demands to remain by his side, never to stray off, and to not associate with anyone. All of which was non-negotiable of course, yet you didn’t mind. 

The drive was long, nearly three hours. You and the crew headed out first thing in the morning to avoid traffic, and just as planned, you all arrived at perfect timing. Parking wasn’t an issue, the lines were short, and everyone was able to dip into the food stands before the area became too crowded. Taking a map, H/Nl suggests starting at Harry Potter’s World, and migrating to all the other regions from there on. 

The clock strikes noon and everyone had already been having a blast. Exploring the mapped out regions, hopping on one ride after another, you and Heeseung partook on the park’s more thrilling rides. You swore, this man was not afraid of anything, for even the most intimidating roller coasters had barely caused him to blink an eye when reaching the peak of its enthralling feature. You couldn’t say the same for yourself since you had grabbed onto his arm and buried your face into his bicep at the start of every ride. Nevertheless, you both were having a great time. 

“Anyone else hungry?” One of the boys vocalizes, to which everyone agreed and opted to go back to the food stands to grab lunch. Finishing up, you guys went back into exploring the remainder of the themed regions in the park, walking from one area to the next. The resort became overbearing as more people started to show up, causing the park to become overcrowded. Still, everyone was determined to explore the rest of the area, and so, you all headed towards the next themed region. While walking, you held hands with Heeseung, often glancing over to take in the sight of him sipping on his rather large drink. You chuckled as he puckered his lips around the straw, and were about to ask him if he was having a good time when unexpectedly, you felt a familiar sense that leaked its way out and started to flow from in between your thighs. 

A sudden rush of warm liquid that dispensed all too quickly, and even though you came prepared with the necessities to contain it, there wasn’t a restroom station nearby for you to tend to the matter. It wouldn’t have made a difference anyhow, much to your despair, since the flow was constant and already dripping down your legs. In a sudden notion, you reached out and grabbed onto Heeseungs arm while your steps came to a halt. He was in mid step when he felt you abruptly grab onto his arm. Turning half way around, he notices the wide eyed stare you dispelled onto the ground, along with the quiet burst of short gasps that escaped your lips. Something was wrong, and he didn’t need to stare at your face long for him to see it. Just as he was about to ask, a crimson trail making its way down your leg catches his eye, in plain sight for the world to see. Moving the slightest bit didn’t help, the movement caused the blood to seep out faster, you were helplessly frozen and didn’t know what to do. 

A large group from behind walks in your direction, and you begin to dread the humiliation that was forthcoming once they take notice of the stains in your dress, and the bright red coating of your legs with the blood pooling in the heel of your sandals. If that wasn’t bad enough, the crew that you came along with turned around after noticing that you and Heeseung were behind, and began to retract their steps to see what was up. A string of individuals and couples pass by and take notice, already making whispering comments that drowns you in a whirlpool of embarrassment. Trapped in between the oncoming crowds, you closed your eyes as your lips began to quiver, when suddenly you felt a cold splash hit you. 

Gasping at the brusque sensation, you look around to find that you were covered from the waist down in red fluid, one that was not leaking out from in between your legs. The ends of your hair had become drenched from the splash, and you look up to see Heeseung standing before you with his cup in hand, completely emptied. The scent of a cherry flavored punch hits your nostrils, you stood confused and stunned upon realizing that he had poured his entire jumbo sized beverage all over you. “Sorry about that babe.” 

You uttered your soft whimpers, trying to formulate words but nothing came out. H/N and Jake arrive with the rest of the group behind them, all in shock at the sight of what looked to be a freak accident. 

“Oh my gosh! Y/N! Are you okay? What happened?” 

H/N assesses the damage, and takes note of the empty cup in Heeseung’s hand, with hints of the juicy residue decorating the rim and dripping on the sides of the container. The plastic lid and straw lay pitifully by your feet, and you remain in shock as you feel yourself bleeding out. 

“My fault, I spilled my drink on her by accident when she asked for a sip.” Heeseung nonchalantly tells the group as he tosses the cup into a nearby trash bin. “Let me take you home, yeah? We should get this off before it ruins your dress.” Taking you by the hand, he walks you to exit the theme park and leads you back to his car. Everyone looked and stared for a moment, remarking how there must have been an incident that resulted in someone obviously spilling their drink on you. Thanks to the red coloring of the juice, every one you had walked passed on your way to the exit wasn't able to notice the blood that continuously dripped from beneath your dress. Opening the door for you, Heeseung sits you down, not at all concerned about the juice–or the blood getting on the seats. “Don’t worry about that babe, that can be taken out.” 

As if he read your mind, he comforts you by expressing his lack of concern for the stain and instead looks at you, flaring a soft smirk. “Seatbelt, beautiful.” 

He gently shuts the door and walks around to the driver’s seat. Starting the car, he doesn’t say a word and acts completely neutral, leaving no hints of intention in explaining the reasoning behind his actions, even though by now it became obvious to you. With your eyes becoming shiny from the tears that were forming, you felt overwhelmed by his quick reaction in saving you from the humiliation that was knocking at your door. But it wasn't just his instinctive reaction, it was the careful and considerate measure of preparations that came along with it.

You had to hear him say it. You had to hear him tell you in his own words why he did it. Why he got cherry flavored punch in a large size, knowing full well that he didn't like fountain drinks because they were too sweet for his liking, especially flavors with red coloring because they contained the most sugar. Yet he had purchased it and took minimal sips as he carried it along, stating that he didn't mind holding onto it even though you offered to take it off his hands, especially when you felt how cold his skin had become from single handedly carrying it during the lengthy walk. You had to hear him tell you...because it was moments like this that reminded you why you fall for this man every day, despite suffering his abrasive sense of love and affection, all drafted by the heavy flaws of obsession, possessiveness.

“...Did…”

“Hmm?” he looks up, slightly raising a brow as he maintains that soft and gentle smirk. “Yes baby?”

“Did you…was that because…”

“What are you trying to say pretty?”

Looking at him with glistening eyes, a single tear escapes your ducts and travels down your cheek. 

“Oh you must be sad because I spilled my drink on you. I’m sorry about that, I had a moment of clumsiness.” Putting the car in reverse, he smoothly backs the car out of the parking space, and maintains his focus on the road as he switches back over to drive. “Tell you what kiddo…” 

Heading towards the main exit, he keeps his eyes on the road as he vocals out his resolve. 

“Why don’t I make it up to you by taking you home, and while you clean yourself up, I’ll get your favorite pastries and make you some tea, and we can sit in and watch some movies. Hmm?” 

You softly smiled as the downpour of tears took over your expression. You quietly mouthed out “thank you” and watched as he let out a faint chuckle while staring down at the steering wheel, waiting at a red light with an expression on his face that was most melancholy.

“For what? It was my fault that we had to leave early, the least I can do is spoil you for the rest of the evening…and tomorrow…maybe even for the next few days.” Looking back into your eyes, he nearly whispers as he raises a hand, and gently drags his finger up along your cheek, collecting the tear drop against his knuckle. “At least let me take care of you for a little while…to make up for my dumb mistake.”

Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️  ☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/reinbow

[billys-pretty-babe]

The Ceremony

Pairing : Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary : Six months after your engagement, it's finally time to marry Billy and well, his reaction isn't what you expected whatsoever.

Warnings : Swearing, illusions to smut at the end, one mention of Neil's abuse

Word count : 2,738

A/N : Part 2 to The Proposal

April 1986

The bridal suite was busy, people working around you to do your makeup, your hair already having been in its style since early in the morning. Max huffed and puffed as she fixed her dress. "Why'd I have to be the flower girl?" You glanced at her, "Because Billy wanted you to be." Her face softened, "Oh, never mind, I love the dress, even the itchiness." Everyone in the room laughed.

You looked down at the ring on your finger, different from what Billy proposed with back in October. He had upgraded it, taking more hours at the garage he worked at. Now, it was a two and a half carat princess cut diamond ring with smaller diamonds on the band. You stared at the silver band you had bought for him with a custom engraving of the wedding date along with both of your initials, except your surname was exchanged with an H.

"Ready for the dress," Susan asked from across the room. You were reluctant to let her come to the wedding, but Billy was insistent, she was the only 'mother' figure he had but you held a grudge against her for letting Neil beat his son. You took a deep breath and nodded. Max sat in your chair, picking up the ring box. "Can I look at this?" You nodded, "Just don't take it out of the box." She nodded, studying the ring in the box as Susan helped you with the dress and you looked in the three mirrors, one directly in front of you, and two to the sides of you.

She bent down and fixed the train of the dress as you looked at the dress, seeing the way it clung to you. The dress wasn't over the top, something nice and simple for the intimate ceremony. Max put the ring box down and your mom walked into the room, smiling as she saw you. Mac hugged her and your mom smiled and hugged her back, fixing a piece of her red hair.

"Where's dad?" She smiled, "With Billy." You nodded, "Is he okay?" Your mom nodded. "More than okay, he's ready to get out there." You laughed, twisting your ring. "Getting cold feet?" You shook your head, "What if I put his ring on the wrong finger or I accidentally say I don't, you know I stutter when I get nervous." Your mom rubbed your shoulder. "It'll be okay, I promise." You nodded, pressing a hand to your stomach to calm the butterflies.

"Are you pregnant?" Everyone's eyes moved to Max and Susan gently scolded her. "Maxine, that's not a question you ask." You softly laughed, "I'm just nervous." Max hummed, lips pursed, "So, no niece or nephew yet?" You shook your head, "Not for a while." She nodded, looking in one of the full body mirrors as she fixed her dress.

"He better know I love him if I'm wearing this." Everyone laughed at her and there was a knock on the large wooden door. Your father peaked his head in, "Bridesmaids and maid of honor, the men are ready." They all nodded and left, Max staying with you. You grabbed the white basket and filled it with petals. "Aren't they supposed to be fake?" You shrugged, "All of these came from flowers he's gotten me, that's why they're all different, he's never done repeat flowers." She nodded and you gently mixed them and handed her the basket.

"Hey Max." She hummed and looked at you, "You can keep some if you want." She nodded and picked out a few petals for herself, setting them on the vanity. Your dad peaked his head back inside, "Max, they're ready for you, honey." She nodded and quickly hugged you before leaving the room. You joined your dad and he hooked his elbow with yours.

"Ready?" You nodded, "Don't let me fall." He smiled, "Never." The large doors to the church, the only way Neil would attend, opened and everyone stood up. Your eyes snapped forward to Billy at the front, one of his childhood friends right behind him as his best man, patting his right shoulder. You walked with your dad, keeping at the same pace and the closer you got, you could see the tears on Billy's cheeks.

Your dad placed your hand in Billy's before taking his seat next to your mother. You stood before Billy, smiling at him. "Thought you weren't gonna cry?" He softly laughed, whispering back to you, "I have allergies, dust is in my eyes." You quietly laughed, holding his hand. The priest went through the opening of the wedding and Billy's friend jokingly yawned and he elbowed him, making you quietly laugh, the photographer catching the moment.

The priest looked at Billy before asking him a question. "William, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in holy matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?" Billy looked down at you, a soft smile on his lips, "I do." His old basketball friends cheered in the crowd and he looked over and laughed before looking at you.

The priest looked at you, before asking you the same question and with no hesitation, you answered, "I do." He gently squeezed your hand. "Thank God," he whispered to you and you bit back your laugh. "What? Did you think I was gonna be a runaway bride," you whispered and he shrugged, "Maybe." You both laughed. The priest had you both repeat after him, everyone cheering after each of you recited the few sentences of the pre-made vows.

The priest looked up, "May we have the rings?" Billy's aunt, guided a boy, no older than four, with the pillow with the rings. People in the crowd cooed and she lifted him up and you took Billy's band and he took your band. The boy looked at you, waving his tiny fingers as his mother took him away and Billy softly laughed.

The priest looked at Billy, instructing him to place the band on your finger. He slid your engagement ring off, placing the silver band on you before replacing the engagement ring. "Now repeat after me." He said the phrase as Billy repeated it. "I give you this ring as a token and pledge of our constant faith and abiding love."

The priest looked at you once more, instructing you to place the ring on Billy. Your fingers shook gently and Billy softly talked to you, "It's okay baby, take your time." You slid the ring onto his finger, fixing it. You were instructed to repeat the same phrase as Billy. "I give you this ring as a token and pledge of our constant faith and abiding love."

The priest shut the Bible he was holding. "I would ask you two to join hands but you've been holding hands this entire time." The room was filled with laughter from everyone, including the priest. He looked out before declaring, "By virtue of the authority vested in me under the laws of the State of California, I now pronounce you husband and wife." He looked at Billy before saying, "You may kiss the bride."

Billy smiled, "Apologies to your parents and grandparents," he whispered to you before moving his hands away from yours, using them to dip your body, right hand resting at the back of your hip, his left hand on your cheek as he leaned down and kissed you, your left hand coming up to brace his cheek as you kissed him back. "Jeez," you heard Max exclaim at the back of the church and Billy laughed against your lips, pulling away an inch or two, his blue eyes teary.

"I love you." You smiled, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb, "I love you too, B." He smiled, "Can I kiss you again?" You nodded and he kissed you once more, this kiss was less intense, filled with the same amount of love as the first but it was also shorter. He pulled you back up. "Ready, Missus Hargrove?" You smiled, "Always, Mister Hargrove." He smiled, walking down the aisle with you as everyone stood up, clapping for the two of you.

The reception was hours long, your second bouquet ending up in Max's hands, your garter remaining on, choosing to not put your parents in an uncomfortable position. The first dance was everything you thought it would be. The father-daughter, son-mother dance involved you and your father and Billy and your mother. Tommy chanted for the cake cutting, making everyone laugh as you and Billy made it to the large cake. "Holy shit." You laughed at him. Your mother gave you the knife and Billy placed His hand over yours. "How big of a piece are we cutting?" Billy shrugged, "Big enough that I won't crash later." You nodded and you both cut a big enough slice to feed each other a bite for the pictures and memories.

Instead of using a fork, he cut the small piece with his finger, making you laugh. "Open wide," you snickered, "I've heard that one before." He laughed before taking a piece between his index and his thumb, placing the piece on your tongue. The chocolate practically melted on your tongue, your teeth gently scraping the pads of his fingers and he visibly shivered at the feeling. "Cold," you jokingly questioned and he laughed. "Quite warm, actually. I think I need to take my clothes off." You laughed, gently pinching his side, "Hush, we'll get to that part later." He laughed and you grabbed the other piece of cake. "Open." He opened his mouth and you fed him the piece, wiping the icing from the corner of his lip.

Soon, it was time for the speeches, deciding to save them for the end of the night. Friends and family, besides Neil, gave speeches. Billy grabbed the mic, looking in his blazer as he grabbed a piece of notebook paper that you recognized came out of his journal from the garage. Max snuck over to you, giving you your paper and you quickly thanked her and she went back to her seat. He unfolded the paper and looked out.

"I'm young, I just turned nineteen last month." Tommy cheered and Billy laughed, making you smile. "We met in October 1984, when I arrived in Hawkins and it took me until January 1985 to ask her to be my girlfriend. We actually didn't have a lot in common at first but the more we were around each other, I saw pieces of her in me, and she was the same. I remember the exact night I kissed her, it was after a party, it was a drunken kiss but one to remember nonetheless. I knew I wanted to marry her early on, I had the ring picked out four months into dating and I received it the first week of August. We have a lot of growing to do but at least it will be together from here until our last days together decades from now." He turned to you, putting his paper down, "Thank you for loving me like I deserved, showing me it was okay to be vulnerable, showing me how to love you gently, how to care for you when you needed it most, and most of all, thank you for sticking by my side even through the times it felt like we were in Hell."

You smiled, lower lip quivering and he leaned down and kissed you softly, sweetly and you held his hair gently. "I love you," you murmured against his lips. "I love you more," he murmured back before sitting down and you grabbed the mic. "I remember the first day I saw Billy, it was the first day of school for him. He made this big entrance, the car actually caught my eye first." Everyone laughed and you smiled. "We were polar opposites, I was taught to stay away from the stuff he did but I felt so drawn to him almost instantly and I wasn't sure why. In November 1984, we had our first kiss after one of Tommy's infamous parties." Tommy cheered, "You're welcome!" Everyone laughed again. "Before Billy, there was no one else. He was and always will be my first love, my first everything. I'll admit, we're extremely young but I knew the night he kissed me that I never wanted a day to go where I didn't get to kiss him and so far, it hasn't happened."

You turned to Billy, a soft smile on your face. "My love," you addressed him, "Thank you for loving me like no one else ever will, for being gentle with me when I need it, for giving me the chance to love you, thank you for letting me be there during the hard times, and more importantly thank you for being you because if you would've had that hard ass persona that you had when we met in high school, I don't think we would be here right now. You showed me your true personality, you didn't show me Billy, you showed me who William was and for that, I'll be eternally grateful." You finished your speech and everyone clapped and you looked at Billy, his nostrils flaring, trying to keep himself from crying but nonetheless, two tiny tears fell directly onto his black pants.

Soon, it was nearing midnight and you leaned on Billy. "My feet hurt." He nodded, excusing himself from talking to Tommy's dad, taking your hand and escorting you to the bridal suite at the reception venue. You took your heels off, looking in the mirror at the two of you and Billy did the same, smile on his face. "Wanna leave? I bet they won't even know we're not here." You laughed, "Can we do that?" he pursed his lips, "It's our wedding, of course we can." You nodded. "Okay." You went to put your heels back on and Billy stopped you, picking you up bridal style, taking your heels in his other hand, making sure he had the keys to his Camaro and he left out of a side door and you laughed as you held onto his neck.

He placed you into the car, putting your heels on the floorboard, stealing a quick kiss from you before getting into the driver's side and he drove out of the parking lot. "So, what do you say we get back to the apartment and consummate this marriage?" You laughed, holding his right hand. "I was just about to pitch that idea." He laughed, bringing your hand up and kissing the knuckle of your ring finger.

It wasn't long before he was pulling into the apartment and he parked beside your car, carrying you up the cement stairs carefully as you held onto him, still laughing at him. "See, all those hours at the gym weren't pointless." You hummed, "You work on cars everyday too." He laughed, "Exactly." He unlocked the front door, carrying you over the threshold, shutting the door with his foot, dropping the keys to the ground as he beelined to the bedroom.

He set you down, leaving the room to lock the front door before coming back, blazer off, his shirt partially unbuttoned. He held your hips, looking at you in the full body mirror that was propped near the window. "This dress is pretty, but I do think it would look pretty on the floor too." You laughed, "You can take it off but be gentle, I wanna be able to wear it again when we renew our vows in a decade." He nodded, kissing your neck once before gently unzipping the back of the dress.

The thick shoulder straps fell to your arms as he stripped the dress off of you, leaving a white puddle of fabric at your feet. His jaw dropped as he saw you in the white lingerie, garter on your thigh. "You are in for a very long night, hope you got all of the sleep you wanted last night," and with that, he kept his word, filling your night with love, compassion and a mix of many other things that would leave you incredibly sore the following morning.

[beesxrated]

A Noble Exercise

Tav x Wyll wedding with some spice. 🪻

The wedding starts out with an orange sun just above the horizon. The house is buzzing with energy and excitement. You never get to catch a glimpse or hear anything about Wyll. As all of the preparations begin getting finished your palms start to sweat. After all your time fighting the cultists and your years in Avernus this is the most nervous you've been. All that time you had several friends and allies who knew exactly what you were going through and may have been going through the same. Now, however, it's just you and Wyll. Some of your friends are still by your side, but none of them are married, let alone in a long term relationship.

The long flowing sleeves of your dress begin to frustrate you as you try to keep your hands busy. You angrily throw the train over your shoulder and push the fabric up. You would be more comfortable getting married in your armor. Karlach bursts through the door at the perfect time. You were just about to change into your usual armor.

She grabs you with tears in her eyes, "You look so beautiful."

Her hug is extremely tight and you can't manage any words. When she finally releases you she sees how distraught you are. She immediately goes into Momma K mode. She brushes your hair and puts it out of your face. She tells you all the things she's heard about Wyll getting ready and how nervous everyone is saying he is. Hearing how Wyll is as nervous as you are, makes you feel a little less scared.

When the time comes you make your way down the aisle. Halsin agreed to marry the two of you. Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard agreed to walk you down to Wyll, seeing as you had no family left. Gale, Minsc, and Lae'zel stand next to Wyll. Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion stand on the other side.

When you pictured your wedding growing up, you never imagined a vampire or githyanki being your most important people, let alone marrying a well-known folk hero. You'd always pictured a comment that had smitten you, made you feel as though you were some sort of noble. Wyll thought writing vows to each other would be more personal and fit the life you have and will continue to lead. It's another thing you never thought about when you were younger.

When Halsin finally reaches the vows it's your turn first, "I promise to dream with you, to build a family with you and to encourage you. I admire you. Simply because of your kind soul, tender heart, and positive mindset. I especially appreciate your endearing sense of humor. I am ever so grateful for your love and selflessness. In return, I offer these promises. I promise to always be your perfect dancing partner."

"Love is a word that is much too soft and used far too often to ever describe the fierce, infinite and blazing passion that I have in my heart for you. Falling for you wasn't falling at all—it was walking into a house and knowing you're home. Everything in me recognizes your heart as my home and your arms, my shelter. Your youth may fade away, but your smile will always remind me of that time I first saw you in the moonlight at the teifling party." Wyll says it all so effortlessly. He somehow pours the love he has for you into every word.

The rest of the ceremony and kiss feels rushed and it begins to make your head spin. The party is about to begin and you have barely been able to sit down. The moment your lips parted everyone was pushed to the ballroom. You see the sun is just an hour above the horizon. Has the day really been that fast?

You and Wyll dance and meet all the guests, many of whom he knew growing up. The two of you barely have time to talk with lines waiting to congratulate you when you take a break from the dancing. Wyll's hand stays interlocked with yours and squeezes when he notices how tired you are.

When the party is finally over the moon is almost at its peak in the sky. You make your way to your room, Wyll follows close behind. You turn to him and he shuts the door quickly behind him. As he begins to strip you give him a pointed look. It's been a long day, you haven't been planning on any sort of extra curricular activity.

Once he gets down to his undergarments he sighs and flops onto the bed, "Do you need help with your dress?"

"Yes, I just..." You drop your arms to your side, "I don't have the energy to do... Anything..."

He jumps up and begins unlacing your dress, "I was not looking for sex if that's what you mean. It's been too long of a day. I just want to hold you, make you feel less stressed." He pulls the dress off your shoulders and falls to the floor, "I am happy to wait for morning, or however long it takes."

Wyll pulls you down to the bed and holds you close to his chest. With little effort the two of you fall asleep. In the morning you feel more refreshed and rested. Wyll is awake next to you, reading a book. You shuffle over and lay on his chest.

"Good morning, myn lykyng." Wyll smiles down at you.

You lean up and kiss him. As you try to pull away he follows you. His hand cups your face as he attempts to place the half read book on the table. But when you hear a loud thud you know he's missed. He follows you all the way onto your back. The tension between the two of you begins to grow as he kisses you deeply, placing his hips between your legs.

He pulls away quickly, "Is this okay?"

You nod before pulling his lips back to yours. The two of you agreed to doing nothing physical for three months before the wedding. It was hard, but it's not like you actually had sex with each other. You touched and that was about it. Not from lack of trying, but in the Hells simply touching was hot enough.

He pulls away and rips the remaining clothes you had on, off. His lips feel as hot as the Hells as they make their way down your stomach. His tongue pushes into you, his nose grazing your clit. He seems surprisingly good since he'd never done it before.

He begins to slow his movements and pulls away, "Is that good?"

"Yes." You laugh as he gets back to it.

You grip his horns to guide him to the right movements. He's a fast learner and soon you're holding on for your sanity. He pulls away for a few moments, kissing your thighs. His teeth graze your skin. He continues kissing your tights and up to your hips, causing you to beg.

"Wyll." You moan and try to redirect his head using his horns, "Please."

He smiles into your hip bone before plunging back between your legs. You see him moving more than he was before and he groans into you. You pull at his horns asking for more friction. Wyll pulls his face away and climbs you. He rubs against you, letting you feel how aroused he is through his underwear.

He drags a hand down his face quickly, places a kiss on your lips, and pulls off his underwear. You admire him kneeling in front of you before he pushes himself forward. It's slow and slightly painful as you get used to him. When you finally start taking pleasure from him he quickens his pace and strengthens his thrusts.

Wyll keeps his lips locked with yours as it all comes way too quickly to an end. He pulses inside you and you feel shaky under him. He holds himself above you, not wanting to collapse and hurt you, he slowly falls onto the bed next to you.

Wyll breaks the silence, "I like when you grab my horns."

"Oh?" You smile at him, never expecting him to enjoy that.

"I don't know how to explain it. It feels nice."

You reach over and stroke the smooth horn. He shivers at the touch. You wish you would've known before, it seems like a good way to tease him or even give him some sort of pleasure while he pleases you. You let your hand fall down and brush his hair from his face. He's let his hair grow out and curl. The curls extenuate his horns and for some reason you find it very attractive. In fact the aging he has done in the past few years has made him far more attractive to you. Nothing looks bad on him.

[beaft]

october 13th

happy friday the thirteenth, everyone! and to celebrate, here's that poem you probably read at school that one time! today's spooky poem is "the highwayman", a delightfully melodramatic ballad by alfred noyes. there's an analysis of it here and a sung version by loreena mckennit here. and once you've listened to that you can watch this, if you're so inclined.

THE HIGHWAYMAN

Part I

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.  The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.  the road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,    And the highwayman came riding— Riding—riding— The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

He’d a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin, A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin. They fitted with never a wrinkle. His boots were up to the thigh.    And he rode with a jewelled twinkle, His pistol butts a-twinkle, His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard. He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred. He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there    But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter, Bess, the landlord’s daughter, Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked Where Tim the ostler listened. His face was white and peaked.    His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,    But he loved the landlord’s daughter, The landlord’s red-lipped daughter. Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—

“One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I’m after a prize to-night, But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light; Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,    Then look for me by moonlight, Watch for me by moonlight, I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.”

He rose upright in the stirrups. He scarce could reach her hand, But she loosened her hair in the casement. His face burnt like a brand As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast; And he kissed its waves in the moonlight, (O, sweet black waves in the moonlight!) Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.

Part II He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon; And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon, When the road was a gipsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor, A red-coat troop came marching Marching—marching— King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door. They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead, But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed; Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side! There was death at every window; And hell at one dark window; For Bess could see, through the casement, the road that he would ride. They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest; They bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast! "Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her. She heard the dead man say Look for me by moonlight; Watch for me by moonlight; I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way! She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good! She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood! They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years, Till, now, on the stroke of midnight, Cold, on the stroke of midnight, The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest! Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast, She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again; For the road lay bare in the moonlight; Blank and bare in the moonlight; And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain. Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear; Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear? Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill, The highwayman came riding, Riding, riding! The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up strait and still! Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night! Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light! Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath, Then her finger moved in the moonlight, Her musket shattered the moonlight, Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him - with her death. He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood! Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear How Bess, the landlord's daughter, The landlord's black-eyed daughter, Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there. Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky, With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high! Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat, When they shot him down on the highway, Down like a dog on the highway, And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat.

And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees, When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas, When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor, A highwayman comes riding Riding—riding— A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door. Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard, And he taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred; He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there But the landlord's black-eyed daughter, Bess, the landlord's daughter, Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

—Alfred Noyes

[ofliterarynature]

FEBRUARY 2024 WRAP UP

[loved liked ok nope dnf (reread) book club*]

The Djinn Waits a Hundred Years • The Memory Librarian • Pixels of You* • Arch-Enemies • Moby Dyke • Pip Bartlett’s Guide to Magical Creatures • A Sinister Revenge • Lud in the Mist • Crying in H Mart • Something Close to Magic • Hula • (Renegades) • The Divorce Colony • Foundryside • Earthlings • A Far Wilder Magic

total: 13 books (12 audiobook, 1 print)

Not as many books this month! And not just because February has fewer days, I was really in a funk this month and struggling to pay attention to my audiobooks (and enjoy them). You wouldn't think there's such a thing as too many books, but I think the overtime hours at work are hitting their peak mental health destruction. Here's to hoping things improve in March!

The Divorce Colony (4.5 stars) - genuinely can't believe this was my 3rd nonfic of the year already! I picked a print copy of this up at a library sale in December after hearing about divorce colonies in the early 20th century on a recent episode of the 99% Invisible podcast. Turns out this book was actually about the beginning of the moment that took place in Sioux Falls, South Dakota in the 1800's. Western states had shorter residency periods and less strict divorce laws, so women (and the occasional man) would travel west and live there for several months in order to obtain a divorce. This book tracks the movement through the stories of 4 of the more infamous cases to make the papers, and does an incredible job of weaving in the surrounding political and religious discussions. Would recommend, and has a great cover to boot!

Renegades (3 stars) - a reread, and for some reason it was torture. I originally read this back in 2018 and loved it, and wanted to tackle it again and actually finish the rest of the series. But I kept getting worked up and frustrated this time around! It kept trying to take itself seriously while also being very YA and kind of superhero-camp, and I was absolutely overthinking it lol. I found the strength to press on into book two, Archenemies (3.5 stars). I liked it a bit more! Something about it being new, the story being a bit more settled and maybe getting a better grasp on its message/politics, the characters growing more, me figuring out that I shouldn't listen to the audiobook for more than an hour or so at a time, lmao. Not great, but fun, and possibly worth reading? I'll keep y'all updated when I finish book 3.

Hula (5 stars) - incredible. Part generational family story, part history, part discussion of what it means to be Hawaiian, culturally and legally. Not always the easiest of reads, but it was so so worth it. It was also doing something very interesting with parts of the narration voiced by a collective "we" (culture/community?) that I would love to get a look at in print. Highly recommend, I'll definitely be getting myself a copy.

Something Close to Magic (4.5 stars) - an absolute delight! The Gail Carson Levine comp on this one is not entirely unearned, anyone who's a fan of fairy tale type fantasies will enjoy this, I had a great time! Very interestingly, it has characters who are in their mid to late teens, but is written in a way where they're still allowed to be young, to the point I'm surprised it didn't get shoehorned into MG instead of YA. If the author writes any more of these I'd be happy to read them.

Crying in H Mart (3.5 stars) - nonfic number 4! I'm sure everyone's heard of this one by now, which is why I finally picked it up. It's fine (which is why it got an extra .5 star), but on the scale of take it or leave it, I'd leave it. It just wasn't for me and I kind of wish I'd dnf'd it. A great cover though.

Lud-in-the-Mist (3.5 stars) - this one seems to be considered a sort of early precursor to fantasy and fairy tale type stories from the early 20th century, and I was eager to try it! While I definitely don't think it would feel out of place amongst it's more recent fellows (think the Last Unicorn, Robin McKinley, DWJ, etc), I absolutely could not get into it. Probably the chief recipient of "my brain doesn't want to cooperate, sorry," so maybe I'll give it another shot someday.

A Sinister Revenge (4 stars) - enjoyable as always! Not to hide this deep in my reviews or anything, but have the Emily Wilde people tried Veronica Speedwell yet?

Pip Bartlett's Guide to Magical Creatures (3 stars) - This one's been sitting unread on my shelf for a while, and since I was on a bit of a Maggie Stiefvater run, I figured it was perfect! Well. Unless you are like 7, this was so bad. Not good. Having previously read and not liked a book by Maggie's co-author Jackson Pearce, I think it would not be unreasonable for me to assume she did most of the writing while Maggie did the illustrations - if the audiobook had been any longer than 4 hours I'd have absolutely DNF'd it, and I have no intention of continuing the series.

Moby Dyke: An Obsessive Quest to Track Down the Last Remaining Lesbian Bars in the Country (4.5 stars) - part of me was wondering what I was doing trying this lol, not being someone who drinks or goes to bars, OR, as previously mentioned, is not the biggest fan of memoirs. It was not, as I hoped, also part research project, but it is a travelogue, and as a consequence has a strong narrative thread. It also has a lot of discussions about issues in the LGBTQ+ community, and overall I really liked it once I figured out what it was doing!

Pixels of You (3.5 stars) - a very short sapphic rivals-to friends-to lovers graphic novel about a human-form AI and a human with an android eye competing for a photography internship at an art gallery. The creators clearly put SO much thought into their characters and worldbuilding, but sadly there is nowhere near enough length here to do it all justice, and a number of elements felt very odd or under explored. The relationship parts are great! I just think this needed to be twice as long to really given everything its due, or maybe explored in prose instead.

The Memory Librarian (3.5 stars) - to start, I know nothing about the musical album this is related to, so I don't know how much that might have affected my reading. Overall I wasn't super impressed - when I discovered that the first story was cowritten by Alaya Dawn Johnson - no shade to her - I almost dropped it then, I just really didn't like her writing style in the one book I've read. But I stuck through it. Of the five stories, only one really stuck in my mind - Nevermind, cowritten by Danny Lore, which I could have read an entire novel about. I wish I could recommend it on its own, but overall I just don't quite understand the world Monae has created.

The Djinn Waits a Hundred Years (3.5 stars) - I probably should say more about the book, it was fine, I was surprised to find that it's set in relatively current day, I found myself a lot more interested in the second narrative about the house's history, which did make me cry a bit. Mostly though, I really just want to let you know how MUCH of a non-entity the djinn was in this story, I have no idea why it was there and why it was included in the title of the book. All the author had to do was make the house a little more sentient and haunted and it would be fine, idk. Read it if you want, but it's not one I would rec.

DNF'S

Foundryside - I was so ready. I had the first two audiobooks checked out, I had the third one on hold. I started this but oh, the writing. bleh. I was looking thought reviews and someone referred to it as something like "21st century internet speak." In a high fantasy novel. I noped out at just 10%.

Earthlings - I've considered the author's other book before but haven't read it, but thought maybe a sci-fic book would work better for me? The beginning was odd but not uninteresting, and I might have continued if it had stayed that way. But then the main character was in school(?) and her teacher started getting handsy after class and I wasn't invested enough to stick it out.

A Far Wilder Magic - the success of Something Close to Magic made me a little too hopeful I think, bc while I'm still a little leery around YA, I know people have liked this. And it sounded interesting, truly, and I love the cover. But first it was the religion stuff. And I didn't really like the characters. Then it's like, oh, this is the same plot as The Scorpio Races, but nowhere near it's quality in any shape or form. I decided to stop while I was ahead, before I started to actually dislike it. (anyway here's your PSA to go read The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stiefvater, I recommend doing it in October if you can).

[breeding-bull-shuichi-saihara]

In oiled up twerking contest, Shuichi which girls make the top five for you?

The twerking competition is such a rare event and opportunity that we haven't experienced it happening so far. So, in the oiled-up competition, the hottest five girls in the academy should be at the top...... However, I want to put Kaede on the list; I know I'll always be biased towards everyone since Kaede will always have my heart; either way, back to business. I can only see her willing to twerk if she is affected by the lust virus <Who am I kidding? Everyone in Hopes Peak is suffering its affliction, including me. At least, I'm fully aware of it as a detective. I'm just out here, preventing my urge from turning me into feral; now it's hard not picturing them all oiled up for twerking> anyways, let's get to it:

5:- Celestia Lunenburg: The reason why I think she is going to be one of the top girls at twerking competition. Because she does it for money, and she'll give it her all if that means attracting many customers. Including me, I'll be out here contemplating, would she go so far as to get paid by her customers for a one-on-one twerk dance? I would say yes; she is the type of woman who would charge you extra and want you to be there watching her twerk just for you "In private." And I know for a fact things will get extra spicy with her backside; she will be eager to let you hold her oiled ass as when she's bouncing and grinding against my crotch. And get her ass groped and smacked to make her go faster. And who knows if her customers are entertaining her. She would extend the session for them to watch her bounce and twerk for extra hours. Hopefully not; I would go feral here and there.

#4: Akane Owari. Now, with someone amazingly athletic, I think she would be phenomenal; I can picture her doing it with the least clothes possible. If anything, she will invite you to watch her twerk super closely against your groins; she can throw her massive globes against you. Eliminating the distance between you and her, knowing her skin is all oiled up. She is the type of woman who spice things up and fuck you on her first date. You can leave some shading red mark on her fat rear, and she'll still twerk for you. Know if this ever happened to you. She'll just want to get dicked down hard. She is the type of woman who openly lets everyone fondle her heavy, fun bags; now, imagine how much you put into her in the mood when you get to play with her all day with no strings attached. That makes me want to do it all, playing with her breasts, pounding her if she keeps twerking her tanned, thick skin against me. I know she is asking for this. She is an animal, and so do I when I get feral..; and she got nothing against me using her pussy like a cock warmer for my thick shaft. She hobbyist and a twerker. And if you feed her right. She'll go a few more steps beyond your imagination to take her for yourself.

#3: Maki is one of the exceptional cases; nothing is better than watching your close friends twerking for you all day/night. A perk for being her close friend. She was even practicing all day and night; with her substantial delicious wobbling ass. I can already tell. Maki wondered how to impress Kaito, so she came to me first. Since she is very cautious with her body, suppose her ass was too thick. I wouldn't lie to her; she is freaking hot. She needs to put her heart and soul into shaking her ass.. then I told her to do it for me; she didn't mind twerking against me all day and night if that's what it takes to improve. And she got my pants so stiff with how hard I got, encouraging her to get creative and play against my pole using her solely. She was such a good girl. I even had to spank her ass to increase her rhythm and speed; then, I told her to close her mind and get oiled up. And shake her perfect ass for the show. <I just realized they will get oiled up in the twerking contest. My goodness, these girls will make me R O C K H A R D if these girls are highly oiled up twerking for me as a group.

#2:- Ibuki: I don't know why I have thought of her, but she is better at attracting more customers than Celestia Lunenburg, but the question is if she is willing to wear super short ripped jeans to show off her seat. She is upbeat, loud, and speaks to herself in the third person. She is absolutely a beast in twerking, given she is touring around the world. And twerk for millions of people watching her. She leveled her performance. She would twerk for you so hard, surprisingly harder than Akane, you would hold to her for your dear life. So I say Ibuki can and will be a different beast if she twerks for us solo, and with the loud music bursting your ears, she will twerk a lot faster; with how thick and round her posterior is, she will make you daydream, and lights out if you're feeling too good in her twerking skills. Here's what I learned: the louder the music is, the harder and faster she will go. You can ask her for a private dance. But I assure you that your soul will leave your body, and she won't stop even if you are far gone. Now imagine her fucking you harder while her body is all oiled up? I don't know about you, but Ibuki can spice things up

#1: Kaede: her body jacks all trade; she had one of the fastest oily rears in the competition; each of her heavy rumps can block one seat; I'm not kidding when I said she needed two seats for her ass to sit down. Her voluptuous ass is twice bigger than Celestia and Maki combined; it made me so rock hard I needed an onahole asap to get myself back to normal. Twerking that ass alone, clapped her asscheeks against each other, making shockwave after shockwaves; the sounds were so mesmerizing I couldn't wait to take her backstage. It all feels so... surreal. She teased me for the whole contest, and it worked because my biological urge spiked up so hard; I spent most of the time hammering and fucking Kaede's down south so hard we ended up connecting on a grand piano I was devouring with each kiss; I kept howling, playing with her voluptuous body making her ass ripple with each of my bruting thrusts, I felt I was a tearing a planet when I was invading her; I couldn't I craved her this much after the end of the show. I was so pent-up; I'm glad the show was over. Cause we took a ride on the bus, and as soon as we got back into our dorms, we had the longest breeding sessions. I ended up fucking her and cummimg inside of her. Our skins never left each other. We spent most of the day sleeping in her dorm. I got to do everything I wanted with Kaede and some more. It was wild; I couldn't wait to get for to get up for another round ♡~

[leeknowsnot]

to the boy who sought freedom — aot

genre: angst

this was an existing work i've done about 2(?) years ago and thought of posting it here as well

ㅤㅤㅤㅤThis world did not deserve such past, such destiny

yet this world did not deserve this kind of salvation.

The winds which had so long been from the north-west began to blow from the west itself and every morning when the sun peeked out from the distant mountains, it painted the whole city a different shade of orange. In the early days of apocalypse, only the high-standing church within Mitras could be touched by the rays at sunrise for Wall Sina had blocked every corner and provided hours of unwanted shade until the afternoon when the sun was at its highest peak which lasted only for a few hours before it turned back into a cave after the sun went past the church, its high stature blocking everything. What used to smell like fresh morning dew smelled like untilled soil. The buildings had become more barren, drier, and silent. Nothing was the same as before anymore.

Yet this was supposed to be peace.

People who used to bustle around the town square only rubbed shoulders with each other when there was a public marshal of peace or when the bakery from the fifth block had gone on sale for medium-quality bread—in which it wasn’t much of a big event compared to the occasional soup kitchens ran by local restaurants that had the worst sale for the week considering that they had been willing to give out free food. The grocery stores never ran out of stock for there was already unlimited access to the fields, thus an easily accessible source of income.

Because of this peace, no one passed by the regiment bulletins anymore. It was a long-forgotten landmark, rotting in mold and buried in vines. Anything that had to do with the perilous past of Paradis had been erased completely, giving a whole different age within the people of Eldia that lived within the comforts of the island. It was as if its own people had chosen to pretend yesterday’s nightmare hadn’t existed. A Paradis, completely free of its own yesteryears. It was the Paradis that Eren Jaeger had wanted. The Paradis that was independent from the shackles of oppression; a freestanding country.

Yet who was Eren Jaeger to the minds of today’s people? To the minds of those children who had grown within the interiors of the walls, far from the hell, clueless to the legacy that each veteran had carried. Some looked up to him as a hero; a saint. But they could only be counted by a mere hundred, maybe even less. To most, he was a judas. A sociopath who had only used freedom as an excuse to do extremely questionable things. A mass murderer. Genocidal. That was what Eren Jaeger was to humanity.

But not for those who had fought alongside him, fought for him, and fought against him. His friends. Had they been the reason why this so-called genocidal man had countless days where he excruciatingly had second thoughts before committing the unthinkable? Yes, they were. It had pained him, killed him slowly deep inside. It crushed him. He had shouldered everything yet this was what the world had seen him. Although during Eren Jaeger’s wake, it was a lot worse.

It was dark times for both him and the rest of the Survey Corps. Each day mattered and each breath counted as their last. Everyone had thought their problem was as simple as swinging blades and slaying titans whom neither had known more than what the textbooks had told them. It was just a simple kill or be killed situation. Yet as time went by, truths have been revealed, secrets were dug out from the deepest depths of Eren’s family basement and everyone knew there was something more and worse out there. It was only after the medal ceremony when he had started corrupting.

The past, Ymir’s memoirs and the unwanted visions of King Fritz and his lies upon the people. The present, the death of countless soldiers, all for the sake of expecting to find relief from the answers in his house in Shiganshina only for it to be the opposite. The future, an untold nightmare that he was unsure of. He feared for everything, for everyone. No one could expect a 15-year-old to handle everything in such a frail, small vessel yet he kept everything for himself.

Everything happened in a whiff; Marleyans swooping in the shores of the island, identifying themselves as Eldians who also wish to free themselves from the clutches of the opposing nation, speaking through experiences and willing to educate them on a lot of things that they had been left out on. They went back to being babies that needed to be taught potty lessons despite all the knowledge they already had. There was always still more, it was never enough.

Wagons were replaced with modified pulleys. Fields were tilled and dug to make way for train tracks. Simple rifles were replaced with more efficient ones. The sand was cleared to accommodate a dock. Along with these, personalities and childishness were replaced with maturity. Everyone argued less, and strategized more. During these times, he was being stabbed more slowly with new memories as years went by. Within the crevices of his mind, it pained him. It pained his young self.

How he wished things would be the same as they were back then. How he wished freedom was already at his fingertips without the need to sacrifice everything. How he wished he could still be with everyone else right after he carries out his plans. Each day was making it more unbearable for him.

Fight, he said right in front of the mirror. It had been years yet he had always carried the same burden, only worse. His friends looked at him in a manner where he was someone who had chosen an entirely different path from the others and he did. There had been no other way; it was inevitable. He was now the villain, and they would be the heroes, that was how he wanted it to go. That is how it should go.

He stood, face glancing out at the frosted window, waiting for his next step to walk towards him and eyed at every building. It brought him back so many memories, so many emotions but it showed neither on his face. It was stoic. His eyes filled with sadness.

How much longer shall he deal with this pain?

How much longer should he bear with the truth that he could no longer bring back the past no matter how much he wanted to?

How much longer until those who are precious to him would look him in the eye with such pain?

How much longer will it take until he encloses himself again, in the darkness for the last time, not wanting to hear the screams and pleads of people?

“Eren, they’re waiting for you inside the room,” Floch had spoken a few inches away from him. He slowly turned, returning back the emotionless look from his eyes, pretending he had no care for everything but to carry out his plans.

He detested every step. The hallway seemed darker, as if it would gobble him up whole. His heart felt as if it was being clenched. His lungs suddenly wanted to stop breathing. His fists balled tighter and shivered for what was about to come. He was alone, cold, abhorred by those who he loved.

“𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘮𝘦.

𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦.

𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦.

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮.

𝘐 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵.

𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘺,

𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵,

𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵,

𝘌𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘧𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮.

𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦.

𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘢 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦.

𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦.

𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘰 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦.

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘐..

𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘐’𝘮 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴.

𝘚𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦.”

“I still want to be with everyone.”

There they sat by the table along with the child who had taken away one of the people who were precious to him. He wanted to feel angry, beat her up. But he knew she was just another victim from the harsh reality that they lived in.

The conversations went on. Lie after lie, he spun each word from every fake feeling he needed to have right now. He had made scenarios in his head that they were nothing more but obstacles in his path—which was impossible. He had dreaded for this moment, yet he had to speak.

“Mikasa,

Ever since were little,

𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮.”

Lies. All lies.

It pained him to let each word slip from his lips. He couldn’t even process what he was doing anymore and just let himself fake anger. It went on like a nightmare. He had beaten up Armin and Mikasa was left off crying. He wanted to apologize as soon as he had turned his back. It was funny how he was hurting those that he had wanted to protect the most. Everything went on like a blur. He tried not to look everyone else’s way. Just like how he planned it to be; his friends fixing the false path that he had created. He had everyone hate him for the sake of rewriting history. He didn’t expect to be the hero nor the villain in the people’s perspective after he died. All he wanted was for everyone to be free. And he gave up his own freedom for that dream.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘴.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘢.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘱, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘣𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧𝘪𝘴𝘩.

That was the Eren Jaeger that his friends knew.

[wellntruly]

M*A*S*H - Viewguide, S2

Are you interested in the long-running anti-war situation tragicomedy M*A*S*H (1972-1983), but there are simply so many asterisks and so many episodes?

Well I can’t help you with the asterisks, but nor can I help myself: I started watching all 11 seasons of M*A*S*H, and bringing back for you my viewing selections, chosen for The Qualities.

— — —

I can tell I’ve really accessed the elder millennial (& elder) demographic with my M*A*S*H posting (doing...numbers? hullo!) by, above all, the 80% consistency rating of those reblogging it also adding tags. My people. We gotta find things later.

Season 2! Absolutely, get in here, loved this one: to bits. I did swing around the order again this time, primarily to pace the Hawkeye runs himself ragged episodes—too much of that at once might cause damage, nearly did me. I am kidding: I did not avoid this. Hi broken, I'm Dad!

M*A*S*H - Season 2 Recommended sequence

2x01 ‘Divided We Stand’ - A reintroduction to the 4077th in our second season together through the psychiatric officer sent to investigate whether they’ve all gone mad out there and should be broken up. Spoiler alert: of course, and of course not.

2x02 ‘5 O’Clock Charlie’ - Every day at 5 o’clock, a North Korean pilot flies overhead and tries* to bomb the nearby ammunition dump (*tries). Just chock-a-block with bits. Fun fact: Alda’s foppy infantry drag routine probably the moment I truly fell in love with him—“That’s about it.” This too would have made a wonderful season opener honestly, but we just get two!

2x04 ‘For the Good of the Outfit’ - And now we sit down with a thump: Hawkeye & Trapper try to get the American military to take responsibility for shelling a peaceful Korean village, and learn that the Army, surprise, has no whistleblower protection. No B-plot, we’re just doing THIS.

2x05 ‘Dr. Pierce and Mr. Hyde’ - In this hurt/comfort but we nearly forgot part of it fanfiction, Hawkeye Pierce stays awake doing surgery for…possibly 48 hours if I've calculated this right, but then after that another shift, and another…oh jesus. He stays awake for something like three days, all but spare minutes of it pulling bits of metal out of chest wounds, it breaks something in him, and then for the next night & day more he continues to sleeplessly wander the camp spooking and unnerving people like an irreverent broken ghost. This is probably the best episode I’ve seen yet. Every time you hear the sound of choppers, and he just looks up from the shadowed caverns of his eyes… HUGE ohh honey! episode, and also like, ..fuck. Fuucking fuck. “Dear Harry, Who’s responsible?” I could lovingly detail every single thing that happens in this, very up to and including the warm circumstances of the little closing scene, which I ache over.

2x09 ‘Dear Dad…Three’ - That’s WRITE, it’s another letter writing episode, with a number of differently toned scenes strung together with pretty impressive balance. A tense surgery, a goofy home video that accidentally makes everyone verklempt, a perfectly absurdist staff meeting, and meanwhile: The Gang Solves Racism! Well, corrects a racist. Involves ridiculous antics don’t even worry. Ginger has the funniest part and thank god.

2x10 ‘The Sniper’ - There’s a sniper. This is a situation where this episode is so well written and edited, just sterling 25 minute story construction, that I’ve deemed it too good to be sunk by its one too many sexual assault jokes. I mean kinda makes it even more of a peak early season M*A*S*H episode, if you think about it.

2x12 ‘The Incubator’ - One of my favorites of this season to be honest! An eventual sort of Milo Minderbinder riff on byzantine and corrupt Army supply chains, in which Trapper & Hawkeye wear their dress uniforms and at one point stand in as investigative journalists asking tough questions at a military press conference—hot.

2x13 'Deal Me Out' - A wonderfully pitched antics ep, especially memorable for the deep bank of recurring guest players: Sidney Freedman, Sam Pak, and even Colonel Flagg. I have since started playing poker and it is remarkable how many elements of this exact game have already occurred. Minus the surgery.

2x11 ‘Carry On, Hawkeye’ - A flu epidemic sweeps the camp, and if the sight of people wearing masks and looking worried isn’t moving enough for you In Our Current Era, the only folks left standing as the war casualties keep coming in—Hawkeye, Margaret, Radar, and Father Mulcahy—trauma bond about it. Exquisite. I adore this one. Also another for the annals of Hawkeye shouting down the line to a superior officer about finding a husband.

2x24 'A Smattering of Intelligence' - Honestly it's not about these slipshod spies: it's because Marlene Dietrich is back in town.

2x20 ‘As You Were’ - Love that when this started I was thinking eh it was probably not making my list. A whiplash episode par excellence. Hot Take! - I think this does the kind of thing ‘Sometimes You Hear the Bullet’ wants to do better than that one actually does.

2x22 ‘George’ - A scene or two into this one, Hawkeye comments in the mess tent that one of the kids they just sewed up was really bruised, and not in a combat way, like in a someone beat him way, and I idly muse, hey, in the version where we kick it up a notch: he was beat up for being gay, and comes out to Dr. Pierce because of course he comes out to Dr. Pierce, the kind chaotic bisexual energy is palpable even behind the surgical mask, and then self-identified Aunt Hawkeye has to figure out how to save him. I would have signed a statement giving up my blog in the event were this to actually come to pass, and done so laughing. But then in the year of our lord 1974, DO YOU KNOW WHAT FUCKING HAPPENED. Good thing my mouth was healing because I yelled.

Oh, and if you’re wondering if Benjamin ‘Homoerotics’ Pierce took this network-granted opportunity to come out as straight—

no.

2x21 ‘Crisis’ - They Were All So Cold, redux, variation: There Was Only One Tent. Not quite like that, although does include Hawkeye and Trap essentially sharing a bed and as many layers of Army surplus as they can scrounge while jibber-jabbering with Klinger as he puts on cold cream and Father Mulcahy does an impromptu stand-up bit in his Loyola sweatshirt, and for this and many reasons, this one about burst my heart in warm coziness. Easily the most endearing & domestic thing this show has done to me yet. I’m compromised. Haha fuck, I’m compromised!

Season 1 • Season 2 • To be continued

#M*A*S*H hours

[mechatiqe]

This… was going to be a hard year for everyone around him, as Nobutoshi had already started making a map of the Hope's Peak within the first two hours of his arrival. The sketch of outside was almost finished, only needing a small check from a tree or roof. What he needed now was the details of inside - if he wanted the right information about the position of cameras; the location of rooms and the direction of vents, than he needed to scout the area multiple times over and over until he gets it right. It was a dirty and tiring task, but Nobutoshi knew that would worth it at the end. As always.

Which was the reason why he is currently slowly creeping inside one of the vents. His sketch had folded and neatly tucked inside one of his inner pockets to prevent it from falling off as the newest student blindly took turns, downs and ups in the dusty, dark and claustrophobic in the vent. Nobutoshi's adventure would end fruitful, though, as he finally finds himself at its end. Pulling a screwdriver out of his inner pocket, he quickly bursts open the vent’s gate and pokes his head out.

It seems like the vent had lead him into a garage, and Nobutoshi quickly ducks in upon seeing another student in there. He thought that he wouldn't see anyone during his exploration, given that it was lecture time. Now that he was proven wrong, “Shifty” just wanted to pedal backwards before he was seen. He was just about to crawl back, when he saw something unlucky: His sketch paper, slowly falling off his pocket. Shit. He could not leave without it, and he had no idea how to approach the other Ultimate for help. So, Shifty stayed in the high vent, watching and hoping that the other wouldn't realize anything different. ( @wickedserpent

Busy with the printer he was fixing, the mechanic hadn’t noticed the vent opening at all — at least, not until he heard something behind him. At first, he brushed it off as a cat or a mouse that snuck in, but then he remembered that there was a chance that they’ll get to the plate of food he accidentally left down on the ground, which caused him to quickly turn to get it. He’d been saving for a while now, after all, and he was pretty hungry.

The paper on the ground grabbed his attention, though, and he slowly crouched down to pick it up, looking at it with a frown. That definitely wasn’t here when he came around, and it wasn’t one of his blueprints, either… It seemed to be a map, but a hand-sketched one? Huh… Was it a sign, of some sort? Maybe it’s actually a treasure map, or a secret temple? Was it a heavenly epiphany?? No way, was he actually chosen by the gods to uncover some kind of secret in the school??? He excitedly looked up to the angels that dropped this, but all he found was…

…an opened vent, and a guy in it. Needless to say, his first reaction was a loud screech, immediately falling on his butt and backing away.

“H-h… hello?? C-can I help you????” Why was the other in the vent?? Was this… a murder waiting to happen? Is he about to be assassinated?? “P-please don’t kill me!! I have an old man back home!! His hopeless ass will definitely NOT be able to live without me!!!”

[court-jobi]

Erebor is your Rome

Pairing: Thorin x Tessa (Modern OC)

Words: 3,028

Ratings: Gen Audience

Warnings: none

A/N: Hello Tumblr! Here's the first of my headcanons that finally took written form~ only 8 years in the making... no time like the present, right?? This one-shot is an intro to Tessa DeVon, her delightful bond with the Dwarf King, and a snapshot of their story in-the-making.

Summary: While Thorin Oakenshield sets to work bringing some semblance of order to rebuilding Erebor, he's not invincible. He gathers his wits a moment and takes a spell in his inner chambers -the door still-ajar - just the invitation for the Company's Unexpected Darling to come have a chat and offer one of her trademark pep talks; as best as a millennial can manage. After making her mark in Middle Earth after taking a Journey with them like no other, life under the Mountain is a learning curve for all.

New to Erebor, sure, but Tessa's full of wisdom in her own right.. and perhaps that's all Thorin needs.

Read on AO3

Just past the hour, Tessa entered the open door and paused at the tension seeping around her. Around the great table in the center rose the heated points of each of the visiting heads-of-house. Their words laced in Khuzdul bounced off the aged, carved walls up to the ceiling.

She cast an unspoken question with lifted, worried brows- just a quick once over to each of the dwarf lords (all of whom paid no attention to her arrival), once to their newly instated King (she noted, with a less than subtle appreciation of today’s choice of vest), then to Balin, to see if she should clear out.

Thorin muttered something in confidence to Balin over his left shoulder, then strode towards his study with a long, rough sigh. Then an announcement later, Balin shooed the others out of the chambers straight away.

Tessa flowed with the exiting movement, favoring the near side of the door to see everyone out, planning to leave last. Chin tipped up to acknowledge each as they passed, Tessa stayed at the threshold until her dear friend reached her side -only to be stopped by the arm when she turned to follow suit–

“Not you, dear,” Balin said, were it so obvious by his laugh, “You’re the one he needs right now.”

So here Tessa remained- the only soul left in the once chaotic room, per Balin’s excusal.

The order– didn’t apply to her?

Although Tessa wasn't sure if it actually didn’t pertain to her or if Balin was simply trying to meddle with the rules for Thorin’s sake, the woman remained in the doorway with her thoughts. Tossing away the time for second guessing, Tessa simply entered further: after Thorin.

Closing the heavy oaken door behind her, the empty King’s study felt smaller than it looked. Surely this was due to the stark quiet in here compared to the room she’d just left. The office sat nearly untouched in these past few decades, save for the workable space of the green-veined stone worktable- once home to Thror’s entire docket of business back in Erebor’s high Age. Its spread was filled with business again of another caliber- one that rests in his grandson’s hands: to bring to glory everything that had been dormant under the Mountain’s years of abandonment and decay.

Thorin sat. looking every bit as miffed as he looked when he left– not in the regal chair of the table’s head, but in a simple attendee’s seat, with barely any cushion to speak of. Sunken arms of the dwarf King propped upon open knees in the posture hardly fitting of someone of this station.

Tessa learned through observation early on; Thorin often pushed his chair sideways when taking an audience, to catch the sunlight rather than have his back to it. Its warmth and brightness was likely something he missed, but never confessed so. Though now, even at its afternoon peak, the streaks of shine gave no joy like they usually did.

A bare rap of knocking against the threshold’s grain made to alert him of someone’s presence. Thorin glanced at the hollow sound but didn’t speak. It registered when he looked up to her that Balin was right; Thorin sunk in relief again, letting down knowing his audience had finally left.

Reading a downcast face was Tessa’s innate specialty; so was the role she took as the token ‘mom friend’ in her university days. But breaching the topics behind such frustration as Thorin showed – especially regarding those of complex, ‘dwarven matters’– was not something she was familiar with. How could she, really; her experience with dwarves as an outsider was decidedly short, no matter how much they immersed her into their comings and goings. This would be her curse even should she stay for the next hundred years– she’d never know Middle Earth as well as her friends here; even now as she called it her home.

For his sanity, Tessa risked the walk. Resolved to be there to listen, if nothing else.

That softened feeling in her sought Thorin’s side, close to the desk… toeing the line close enough to the edge of the armrest– within his reach, if he wanted.

“Hey, you.” Tessa spoke life into the room by voice alone.

The dwarves’ King looked lost, studying the end of Tessa’s dress with focused effort.

“They are evenly split,” Thorin inferred the council’s ‘determination’. “After sixty years of poverty and loss, they cannot make a single, unanimous ‘aye’ for the life of me…”

So, the talks were not going well. This had to be discouraging. Considering the impromptu committee had planned to convene long before lunch– and it was now past noon...

“It’s a complete state of friction, no cooperation.” Thorin spoke his mind, “Have you been here all this time?”

“No,” Tessa chimed back pitifully, “Finished inventory in the Northwest Hall from yesterday. Just thought I’d check in, see how things were going.”

“You’ve caught us in a recess, then,” he sighed.

Tessa firmed her lips, listening.

“Nothing new, this.” He gestured to the plans before him- notes and scraps more than outlines and ledgers, “--the prospect of re-imagining Erebor, life within the mountain: this is a rare chance to start things over. A thing of purpose, of destiny. My grandfather kept such meetings close to the chest, and even closer like minds. I always thought more could be done, saw potential we never had the chance to build. Silly me, I opened the floor for our extended kin to ‘speak freely’. I never imagined such stubborn minds would greet us after so much time away.”

Non-stubborn dwarves?... That concept sounded nigh impossible. By definition, dwarves were hard-headed– even Tessa’s fairy tales depicted them that way.

“I’m no expert, but I’m not sure those two words can exist in the same sentence, hon.”

“I cannot argue that.” Thorin ceded. “But even so, this opportunity should lend itself perfectly to our kind, Tessa. To utilize talents of all kinds and trades… Would the noble houses not defer to each other? Ones who have worked in such conditions, who’ve accomplished projects of this scope? Have we become so set in our ways, scattered across the land of Men… We have carpenters here; smiths, masons- all at the ready- to understand even the-…” he spat and mumbled through a stiffened jaw.

At the arm of his seat, Tessa settled in to hear out his concerns. She flipped her palm upward in an offer. His stern eyes fluttered at the gesture, then softened at the sight, bound to accept it.

Falling into their habit of touch- the tender thing neither spoke of- Thorin’s giant thumb took its job to rub the top,

“I swear, whatever this Mountain’s so-called King imagined to be a uniting task, has made him a bloody fool.”

“Thorin-...”

Tessa stopped that negative-self talk in its tracks. A sweet smile graced Tessa’s lips as she said so, disagreeing with any talk that put Thorin in a bad light… even if such words came from his own mouth.

A dark memory turned to a reserved calm behind his eyes and his tone,

“Smithing in Ered Luin was tiring, backbreaking work… but what I might give to return to a job that was honest. Provided enough to meet needs. I can assure you, it didn't drive me to quarreling madness…” Thorin studied the softened fingers in his grasp.

This quiet moment from him: vulnerability at its finest. Thorin’s gaze fell back to the hands encasing his with a level breath,

“I know I should be patient,” even through temper, he could anticipate Tessa’s faithful answers, “but a room stuffed to the gills with dissent and conflict– nonstop– for half a day’s working hours, I cannot help but remember… this is not the life I envisioned for you.”

The release of his name left Tessa’s chest again, leaving no choice but to close the gap between his legs. Pure empathy brought her hand from his to clasp Thorin’s shoulder and bring the entire torso of the hero before her into her waiting embrace. Following the flow of her movements, Thorin found himself slumping to press his forehead into her stomach.

Unseen by his Council, his mind spun– past and present pressure warring. Now, he sought her for grounding with naught but a hand to her waist. If she could just numb him long enough to rest the growing throb in his temples…

With that gentle press of her hand onto the back of his head, perhaps she could.

“Well, Thorin,” Tessa lightened, “I didn’t really have a plan prior to my deciding to stay here. I had no vision to be crushed, so you’re hardly disappointing me.”

A chuff of warm air flared through a certain dwarf’s nose from his hiding spot.

“I mean, this is a huge step up from squirrel stew and the canvas sleeping mats.” she teased, the memories flickered in the mind like the lanterns along the walls. “Not that those things didn’t have their charm! But I can’t say a girl like me wouldn’t love the velvet getups and shiny bits that came with settling down in a place like this... You didn’t even need to do that much, Your Highly Majestic-ness. Consider me ‘right spoiled’~.”

Naturally, a displeased grunt masked his amused smirk. “You know my meaning, lass…”

Tessa chuckled. Grumpy dwarf. If she could lift his spirits first, then the head would follow.

“We have a saying where I’m from:” Tessa offered in this quiet moment, “-‘Rome wasn’t built in a day.’-”

Thorin hummed again, peppered with interest this time.

“I didn’t ever have a chance to go abroad to see it in person- much less see the city in its heyday; it sat clear on the far side of the world. The whole country is shaped like a boot, it’s a peninsula with water all around it. But it’s a place we all learned about in our studies.” Tessa set the scene as simply as she could manage in a few refrains, “Rome was the birthplace of arguably the greatest empire in my world’s history- host of all sorts of things; how we made multi-lane roads, waterworks, even how we perform life-saving surgeries. Things like music and sculptures too– gosh, so much art, you wouldn’t believe… If you looked back on it, models from the Roman Empire grew over time into the way we do things today.”

The draw of Thorin’s waves tempted Tessa’s fingers, but she didn't feel like crossing that line just yet- it’s a private one, and a very serious matter, Balin says.

“But I think it’s safe to say,” Tessa swayed a little in her step, “Given the scope of this place, this world, everything you’ve told me you remember about growing up here… What this mountain meant for the North all those years ago? Erebor is your Rome.”

… Forehead still pressed to her sternum, Thorin’s head cocked.

“You say Erebor was a marvel- is a marvel-” Tessa corrected herself, taking a few stray fingers atop the runs of silver through her King’s hair. “Anyone can say they can imagine something great, think they know how to tackle something huge, all by themselves– but the second they’d try and fail on the first go, they’d write it off. Call the challenge something that’s too far gone. For such a great place, there has to be a great vision; and I’d bet on anything that you have that vision.”

Tessa trailed off just as she mapped his waves. Something about Thorin not looking at her directly made her more brave.

It’s those eyes of his, she mused, makes my brain turn to mush. Maybe it’s better this way; he needs to hear this, and I’d never get the nerve to tell him staring at me with those baby blues.

“You can’t help but see the potential, because you remember it at its height. To know what Erebor was, but also what it needs to be, now. It’s a different time, different age now- just like you said. It only makes sense that it’s what’s freshest in your mind coming back home, tattered as it is right now. And in the interim, you’ve lived in such a variety of places, so you’ve been inspired to grow. Bringing in the things you know and make it even greater.”

This seemed to strike a cord. Thorin tilted his head fully, looking askance yet comfortable in his spot to think.

“Any city can be great, sure. You can rebuild Erebor just like any other king before you. That being said, I know something else for a fact, too.”

The edge of hair hiding Thorin’s eyes begged to be pushed back,

“Given the state we’re all in, there’s no doubt this place needs more than a fair share of elbow grease. But I’ll promise you this…There’s something more to be said of the man who refuses to give up on it. And even more–”

A tip of the chin up, Tessa turned Thorin’s jaw up.

“--building his mind and heart up in a healthy place while he works at what he’s after? That means more to me than anything else. More than how many studded halls or linens or comforts he can give, or how fast it goes up. That’ll all come back to the mountain in droves… I only have one you. So when you wanna call a recess, you call the recess.”

A contented sigh left him. While the sound proved enough that he seemed happier to have been consoled, Tessa missed the ghost of a smirk that accompanied it.

With another hand passing over the divide of his (unfairly beautiful) part, the Company’s resident darling pivoted,

“How are you sleeping?” Tessa asked.

“I’m exhausted.” the deep whisper answered.

“Did you eat today?”

A pause, “...Not as much as you might like to see.”

Tessa bit the urge to scold back. He had the decency to look guilty about the negligence, after all.

“Then there's a good place to start.” Thorin earned himself a little backscratch, “The body is a forge- it needs fuel to light it. A good supper can sustain it enough to carry light for hours, even well into the night if needed.”

Thorin nuzzled against her -a nod, more like. This position caused muffling of his usually crisp-cut words into her waistcoat.

“You could pass as a dwarrowdam with talk like that.”

“I’m picking up some new metaphors,” the pride fluttered in her voice. “Is it working?”

“You are helping my mood, and you’re endlessly amusing…” Thorin caressed her hip, unable to stave off the smile.

Tessa quirked her lip, perched atop his head. “The accent needs work.”

“Hah- I’ll say.”

An aire in her laugh, Tessa knelt to meet his eyes.

God, he looks tired, yet now he seemed not so miserable than at the start.

“You know, I really would have liked to have known you sooner…” Tessa leaned onto his lap- “To have watched you spend time as a king already, way before this whole getup…”

“Sweet as you are–” Thorin hushed the sentiment, not unkindly, “I was hardly a king of old during our people’s time in exile. I guarantee you, you’d have been sorely underwhelmed by the name of ‘Durin’…”

“You led in the ways that mattered.”

“Out of Balin’s mouth to yours..” Thorin gave a playful wrench under Tessa’s chin.

Tessa shook it off with a smile of her own. The Company formed to bolster Thorin Oakenshield was not something to be overlooked,

“Well, he wasn’t wrong. Providing a way of life? In so many cities, for as many as were dependent on you? You amaze me already; how easy you make it look. ‘N even when it’s hard, you’re not above calling those you trust to help you. You made sure to keep a reliable circle close.”

In her comfort, Tessa barely registered– she’d sunk into Thorin’s hand as he held her cheek, adoring her.

“These are all the marks of a truly good man, to me– not a fool in the slightest. With a mind like yours and a work ethic to back it up, that’s how I know you can do this.”

Finally– a prized crinkle graced beside the dwarf’s eye. What a well-won smile. The reward for all Tessa’s doting: easily her favorite sight in all of Middle Earth.

“At the same time,” she brought herself back to the present- not ogling him, mind you– “I know it’s easy for me to say, I’m on the outside. I know it’s harder in your position… and that's why I want to be here for you ok? With proper care, that patience you need will follow. And the ‘impasses you need like a hole in the head’ will fade away. Bit by bit, under your hand.”

Thorin tested the idea again: “ ‘Rome wasn’t built in a day’.”

“Sure wasn’t,” Tessa promised. “Just brick by brick.”

Thorin set a kind look back, drawing Tessa in by her jaw to grant her brow bone a kiss and met her forehead.

The last time Tessa gave a glorified TED Talk to the financial minds in the newly renovated Treasury, Thorin had been awestruck to the point where he didn’t even hide his sidebar with Bilbo: ‘What a queen she’ll make, Master Baggins’ he’d said. This touch spoke just as much as that moment, weeks before.

And to be true, his mind was indeed more sound now thanks to her, like rain washed over a steaming batch of coals to a bearable temperature.

“Care to share any expert opinions on how this Rome was built?” Thorin murmured into the space between them. “Any trade secrets your world would not mind you parting?”

“Well, I wasn’t exactly there 1800-something years ago to see it. But I’m pretty sure it all started with getting a decent meal in the Emperor’s stomach before lifting a finger on any ordinance.” Tessa rose to pull him up to height. “Even I find a snack does wonders before picking fights with assholes at the council table, that’s for sure~.”