#local woman harps on about love senior

[visualtaehyun]

Love Senior The Series | Director "spills behind-the-scenes tea about the cast and crew of Love Senior!"

[vannahfanfics]

Weddings and Wisteria Trees

Category: Mild Romantic Fluff

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Characters: Fumikage Tokoyami, Ibara Shiozaki

Additional Tags: Feudal Japan AU

Hey, everyone! Here again with a story for @bnhabookclub​‘s Bingo Event, for the prompt “Forced to Get Married.” This is my first time writing an arranged marriage story, so I hope it’s to y’all’s liking! :)

Ibara stared blankly into the curved surface as the mirror as one of her attending ladies brushed her long, trailing strands of summer green hair. The rhythmic, gentle tugging against the roots of her hair would typically be soothing, but on this day of all days, Ibara could not find joy even in the simplest of things. Not even the gentle rustling of the emerald leaves against her window or the sweet scent of the sweet pea perfume that one of the other servants spritzed against her wrists, ankles, and collarbone could bring a smile to Ibara’s face. No, today, Ibara was to marry a man that she had never met.

“My Lady, you look a little pale this morning,” the woman who’d been brushing her hair tutted as she tipped Ibara’s chin up with a few fingers. With the same stony expression, the bride-to-be turned her face to look down at her legs, which were flush with the rose of life as compared to the pure white silk of her slip. “Have you taken ill?”

“No, I am not ill,” she answered quietly. While it would be an excellent excuse to avoid meeting her suitor, it just wouldn’t do. As the daughter of a wealthy merchant and artisan family, Ibara’s sole responsibility was to wed an established man. She had no choice but to fulfill this role, lest she bring great shame upon her family and their name. Regardless of my feelings about it, I must perform this duty. Father and Mother’s business would be ruined if I refused the hand of this man. Ibara would be given several hours before the ceremony to acclimate to her soon-to-be husband. She was grateful at least for that small window of time; she couldn’t imagine walking into the anteroom to wed a complete and total stranger. All she knew about him was that he hailed from a distinguished samurai family.

Her servants knew better than to gossip with Ibara about her impending marriage, so they busied themselves with preparing Ibara’s clothes. She would not don the pristine white bridal kimono until right before the ceremony, but the garment she would wear to the pre-wedding meeting was arguably more stunning. Ibara stood and raised her arms perpendicular to her body so that her servants could slip a kimono of dark green fabric over her figure. White stitching outlined large, fan-like leaves across the material, and the plants were filled in with jade cloth the same shade as Ibara’s magnificent hair.

Her parents said that Ibara was born with green hair because her mother had prayed to the local forest god for fertility; the deity had blessed her, and colored Ibara’s hair as a reminder of its divine blessings. The long, luscious locks marked Ibara’s most striking feature, and its novelty had attracted attention from many notable suitors across the continent. Luckily, Ibara’s parents were gracious enough to choose a groom who was close in age to her. Ibara didn’t know how she would cope with marrying someone twenty years her senior.

“You look radiant, My Lady,” one of her attendants hummed as she straightened the hem of Ibara’s kimono. The royal girl blinked slowly at her reflection in the mirror. Under normal circumstances, Ibara would most certainly agree; the green hues of the fabric accented her emerald eyes and vine-green locks, while her skin provided suitable contrast to the earthy tones.

As Ibara stared at herself in the mirror, the ladies threaded a hairpin wrought from thin gold wire into her hair; a clothed peony bejeweled with topazes and jasper stones adorned the accessory, and light, wispy gold ribbons trailed down from the piece. A servant skillfully wound it through a braided section of her hair to create a regal and tasteful hairstyle. Yes, under normal circumstances, Ibara would find herself quite gorgeous indeed. However, that cold pit of dread and trepidation swallowed any and every positive emotion. The ball of darkness was like a wicked weed, smothering all other flowers of feeling with cold indifference.

Ibara forced a smile on her face as the sliding door to her bedroom opened, and her parents walked in.

“Oh, my dear, you look stunning,” her mother crooned as she approached the eighteen-year-old girl. Ibara politely closed her eyes when her mother leaned in to kiss her lovingly on the cheek. Her parent flashed her a bright smile through the silvery reflection of the mirror. Ibara’s own smile was strained and false. Either her mother didn’t notice, or she ignored it. Ibara’s father moseyed over to grasp her by the upper arms and lean over her shoulders.

“Are you ready, darling?”

“Of course, Father,” Ibara responded smoothly. The lie rolled off her tongue like syrup- with practiced ease. “I am more than ready to do my duty to the family. This marriage will be prosperous for us.” The wealthy merchant smiled widely and patted her shoulders approvingly. Now that the preparations were complete, they swiftly bundled Ibara into a carriage. The wagon featured the height of comfort- minx fur comforters, feather-stuffed pillows, and silk curtains- but Ibara fidgeted endlessly amongst the luxurious items. Nausea spun her belly around, and the jostling of the carriage on the uneven dirt path worsened it. Ibara pushed her head out of the window, hoping the cold air would settle her sickness. It calmed somewhat, but her throat remained tight with unease, making every breath harsh and laborious.

The Tokoyami estate resided in a nearby valley, which belonged to a rich daimyo who made his fortune by maintaining and operating large commercial farms. According to her parents, the Tokoyami family was one of the samurai clans that managed the sprawling collection of farmsteads. The local farmers spoke highly of both the daimyo and the small assortment of samurai that maintained the peace and order. Hence, it relieved Ibara that she wouldn’t be immigrating to a lawless, turbulent region- if the rumors proved right, anyway. The estate was a mere two-hour journey by horse-drawn cart.

Not a long voyage by any means, but it was the longest two hours of Ibara’s life.

Ibara gulped down several breaths of air when the carriage driver opened the door. Though she’d possessed access to the window, it seemed like the air beyond the cart was fresher and crisper. It flooded her lungs with an uplifting cold- only for a few moments. When Ibara’s slippers met the bright green grass, the reality of her situation slammed back down upon her shoulders. Phantom aches of the burden she bore made her back muscles burn and throb. She hardly registered taking her father’s arm and walking down the cobblestone path leading to the mansion. Ibara’s main priority at this point was breathing.

Her lungs seemed none too keen on inflating and providing her body with oxygen. Focusing on breathing appeared to further their disobedience, so instead, she attempted to focus on her surroundings. Shady wisteria trees lined the neat stone pathway; their wispy fronds curled over the lane to create a tunnel-like atmosphere. The feather-like branches ruffled in the breeze, mirroring Ibara’s waves of green hair, which rippled like green water as the wind played the strands like harp strings. The floral fragrance of their creamy purple plumes mingled with the scent of sweet pea still dousing Ibara’s skin. She found the aroma soothing, so her nerves settled just a bit.

They jumped back into high-gear once the house came into view. It was a magnificent, grand structure with an ornate porch stretching around the building, adorned with a white lattice trellis trawling with dark green vines. Through the gap in the porch above the stairs, she could see a sliding door painted with a lovely rendition of crows resting in the branches of an oak tree. Ibara huddled close to her father as they strode up the path. While her parents exuded auras of confidence and poise, anxiety bled from Ibara’s pores like dark, putrid water. When they stepped up onto the portico, the front doors slid open to reveal a dark-haired man and woman wearing regal purple-and-white kimonos.

“Welcome to our home. Please, come inside,” the man said with a regal bow. Ibara pressed against her father’s arm, regarding the noble couple with wide eyes. As the man raised his head, his gaze flickered to her. The deep ruby hue of his irises unsettled Ibara. Ibara likened them to bright red blood, and the image of the liquid leaking from her mangled, dead body suddenly bloomed in her head. The nausea returned full-force, but there was nothing to be done. Her parents quickly ushered her into the abode.

The polished wood beneath Ibara’s feet made not a creak as she hobbled alongside her father. A maid poured five glasses of aromatic ginger tea and distributed them to the families as they sat on cushions around a small coffee table. Her suitor was nowhere to be seen. Ibara wasn’t sure if that relieved or disconcerted her.

“Your reputation proceeds you, My Lady Shiozaki,” the head of the Tokoyami household smiled at Ibara with a respectful dip of his head. “Truly, words of your beauty do you no justice. You are even more splendid than the rumors suggest.” Though Ibara’s tongue was as dry as sandpaper, she forced herself to provide a small word of thanks. “We have much to discuss concerning the wedding ceremony to be performed at dusk,” he continued with a languid wave to her parents. “My son, Fumikage, is much eager to meet you. He is waiting in our garden out back.”

“My attendant shall escort you,” the mother piped up with a serene smile. The maid shuffled forward, bowed to Ibara, and then gestured toward the hallway leading out of the room. “We would like to give you this time to yourselves to get to know each other.”

Ibara knew this meeting was coming, but it did not stop all the starch from dissolving from her knees. She clutched the edge of the coffee-table in a white-knuckled grip as she pushed herself to her feet. Thankfully, the skirt of her kimono hid her wobbling knees. Ibara took a few moments to discreetly gather herself by steadying her breathing and steeling her nerves. It worked only just enough for her to take some tentative steps towards the attendant. The young girl immediately turned and disappeared into the thin hallway leading into the interior of the house. Ibara sucked in a breath and, without looking back at her mother and father, followed the servant.

Sunlight filtered in through the cloth windows to cast the hallway in a bright gold atmosphere. The stripes of light dappled across Ibara’s dark green kimono to dye it the brilliant emerald of her eyes. They walked for about two minutes before they came upon another sliding door. Ibara could hear birdsong and the babbling of window drifting through the thick cloth panes. The servant bowed to her once more.

“This is the entrance to the garden. When the preparations for the ceremony are complete, I will fetch you. Please excuse me,” the maid said, bowing deeper. Ibara acknowledged the young maid with a curt nod. Dismissed, the maid shuffled away down the hall. Ibara sucked in a nervous breath and faced the door. By all rights, it was an ordinary sliding door, but to Ibara, it looked like the entranceway to another dimension. Does it lead to Heaven or Hell? she wondered with an anxious gulp. Her fingers trembled as they slotted into the groove in the smooth wooden frame. The door rattled quietly as she drew it open. Fresh air carrying the aroma of various plants jumped through the gap, and the breeze ruffled the skirt of Ibara’s silk kimono friskily. Ibara opened the door halfway and shyly peered around it.

A garden extended behind the small porch ringing the backside of the structure. A massive wisteria, which dwarfed the specimens lining the path leading up to the house, dominated the back corner of the backyard. Its purple blossoms swayed in the gentle breeze like noiseless windchimes. A rock pathway meandered from the wooden steps around the grassy expanse, trailing around iron-wrought benches and flower patches and a koi pond with a small bubbling waterfall. Songbirds flitted through the grass, pecking at the ground in search of seeds and grubs. Ibara could see no one in her direct line of sight, so she cleared her throat and hesitantly called, “Hello?”

Ibara flinched when she heard the distinct sound of grass crunching underfoot. She used the door to shield the majority of her body as the footsteps approached. Suddenly, the songbirds scattered into the sky with frantic chirps and twitters to disappear into the leaves of the oak leaves looming over the garden wall. Ibara’s eyes widened as a young man strolled into view and squinted directly at her.

He was a handsome fellow; there was no doubt about it. His hair was a deep black like his parents’, shining with a violet tinge in the bright sunlight. It was close-cropped around his neck and ears but fluffy around the top, poofing out at the back not unlike a bird’s fluffy short tail feathers. He wore a cotton yukata of violet accented with lavender and white underlayers. A hand rested on the deep purple hilt of the katana secured to his hips. What captivated Ibara was his eyes, however- like his father’s, they were a deep crimson. They set like hard-cut rubies in his pale face, but their glittering harshness didn’t unsettle Ibara as before. Gleaming intelligence and curiosity shone within those vermillion irises, and Ibara found herself intrigued.

As Fumikage stared at her, Ibara remained huddled behind the door.

“Miss Shiozaki?” he called inquiringly. His voice vibrated with a deep bass, but it carried a light-hearted tone. Ibara’s anxieties began to wane, so she crept out from behind the door to walk out onto the porch. A pink haze appeared on her cheeks as his eyes visibly widened in awe. “F-forgive me,” he stammered after a few seconds of staring and hastily turned away. “I am simply overcome by your beauty…”

“You’re too kind,” Ibara smiled shyly. To be honest, she had not been sure what this son of a prominent samurai would be like; she was relieved to find him courteous and even a bit meek. Curiosity soon began to overtake her hesitations, so she walked closer to the top of the steps leading down to the garden. Fumikage’s gaze flickered to her, and before she could begin walking down the steps, he rushed forward to offer her his hand. “Thank you.” His hand was soft and welcoming as it gently embraced her fingers. He guided her down the steps and, when she regarded him expectantly, brought her hand to his mouth to respectfully kiss the top of her hand.

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” he smiled gallantly. Though it was purely customary to address her in such a way, Ibara could detect genuine joy swimming in his bright red irises.

“As am I,” she responded kindly. Fumikage’s gaze slowly trailed to her flowing waves of jade-green hair. When Ibara noticed his captivated stare, she giggled and offered him a swathe of her locks. He began to stammer and sputter refusals, flapping his hands about, but Ibara pushed the chunk of hair forward with a gentle laugh. “I don’t mind. It isn’t every day that you see a woman with green hair, no?” Fumikage gulped audibly but nodded and timidly took the hair in his hands. An awed breath ghosted past his lips as he admired the sheen of the green mane, and his thumb slowly trailed over the smooth strands, as if he appreciated the most beautiful gemstone. The way he drank in the luster of her hair made her cheeks redden further. Under his intense gaze, Ibara felt nothing less than a goddess.

“Simply marvelous… I have never seen anything like it…” Fumikage murmured. His gaze flickered upwards, and his red irises locked with Ibara’s green ones. With a nervous cough, he hastily dropped her hair and straightened back up to maintain some sense of poise. “Miss Shiozaki-”

“Ibara,” she corrected. A red hue blazed over the entirety of his face, and Ibara chuckled at how cute the young man was. “We are to be married today. Please, call me Ibara,” she insisted. He wrung his hands uncertainly for a few seconds.

“R-right then. Ibara,” he nodded, saying her name slowly like he was experimentally rolling it over his tongue. “As such, you may call me Fumikage.” He blushed fiercely when she repeated his name. “A-a-anyway, would you like to stroll with me around the garden?” he asked and offered her his arm. Ibara glanced around the extravagant backyard; it stretched along the entire backside of the manor, with the back wall a small black line in the distance. The stone path wandered through the garden, and its meandering curves would provide a nice long walk indeed. Smiling amiably, Ibara hooked her arms around Fumikage’s. A heat rose to her face when she felt the solid muscle hidden beneath the thick cloth, so she tried to focus on maintaining a friendly aura rather than on indecent thoughts. As she rested her hand on the thick of his arm, he draped his over hers. His touch was gentle and kind.

The walked in tandem along the winding pathway. Ibara esteemed the bamboo water fountain that filled the air with a repetitive, calm tapping as it flowed water into the koi pond. They paused beside the small pool, and Ibara watched the fish swimming along the muddy bottom. They flitted through the roots of the lotuses blooming on the surface in their big green pads, the shadows dappling their red, white, orange, and black multicolored scales. Ibara could barely see her reflection in the clear water and flushed when she noticed Fumikage smiling adoringly at her. After a few more minutes of watching the fish swim, they continued on their way.

“I am told that your mother crafts luxury clothes and accessories, and your father sells them, and this is how your family made your fortune,” Fumikage said after some time strolling down the path. “Did your mother make this?” he asked with a gesture to the ornate hairpin adorning her hair. Ibara raised a hand to touch the cloth-and-wire construction.

“Yes. She made it especially for this meeting.”

“She is very talented. I will have to extend her my compliments,” Fumikage smiled as he appreciated the lavish fixture. “Are you also a seamstress or craftswoman?” Ibara flushed and looked bashfully down at her feet.

“My mother taught me the craft, but I am not nearly as talented. My father says it is unbecoming of someone of my stature, but the servants say my true talent lies in the cultivation of plants…” she admitted meekly. Ibara possessed a great love of plants. From a young age, she had frequented their manor’s herb garden, which the cooks used rather than importing spices. They said that Ibara possessed a “green thumb”- an inherent ability to make plants flourish and thrive. “It is not a very useful talent for a noblewoman…”

“No!” Fumikage interjected, and she peered at him out of the corners of her eyes. He blushed slightly and adjusted his tone to a calmer one. “N-no,” he repeated softly, “I think that is a charming gift. I-if it pleases you,” he stammered with a sweeping gesture to the garden, “you can have leave of this place as you wish. The servants tend it, but if it made you happy, I would have you tend to it as you desire.” Ibara could not hide the eager expression that bloomed over her face.

“Really?!” As she enthusiastically looked around the garden, ideas for improvements sparked in her mind. Fumikage chuckled as he watched her glance around fervently. After a few seconds, she recalled her place and looked down at the hem of her dress in embarrassment. “Ah… Forgive me.”

 “Do not ask forgiveness,” he corrected her. His hand twitched once before resting under her chin to tilt her face up slowly. Her eyes widened when they met his ruby irises. “If this place makes you happy, then I am delighted.” His thumb swept once across her cheek in a feather-light touch before his hand dropped back to his side. A bright red tinge appeared on his face, and he cleared his throat gracelessly. “Sh-shall we continue…?” Ibara nodded sagely, and, feeling slightly bold, pressed herself a little closer to Fumikage. If he took notice of her intimate action, he didn’t acknowledge it.

The sun inched across the blazing blue sky as they ambled down the garden path. They discussed many things, including their respective childhoods and interests. Ibara had been surprised to learn that Fumikage was not merely a samurai in training, but also practice. He recounted a harrowing trail of hunting bandits in the nearby mountains for the daimyo, and how his first real battle had earned him a scar on his forearm. He showed it to her. Ibara marveled at the thin white line crossing the otherwise unmarred skin, and gulped when she imagined a sharp blade biting into the flesh of her own forearm. A phantom stinging pain slashed at her limb, and so she clutched it tightly.

“Did it hurt?” she whispered, eye flicking up to his. Amusement danced in his crimson eyes as he chuckled at her.

“Yes, it did hurt,” he chortled. “But I am better for the wound. I lived to fight another day and learned my sword better to prevent it from ever happening again.” Ibara nodded slowly, tracing the thin and unassuming scar with her fingertip. She jerked away when Fumikage flinched, and she wondered if perhaps the area was still sensitive. When she opened her mouth to apologize, he laughed. “That tickled.” She blinked a few times. She smiled with a soft giggle.

~~~~~~~~~~

After the sun had reached the highest point in the sky to beat down upon them, the pair of young nobles reclined under the wisteria tree to partake in its lovely shade. Their shoulders touched as they lounged against the thick trunk, and every subtle movement that made their arms brush sent crackling fire through Ibara’s nerves.

“Your home is truly beautiful,” Ibara sighed contentedly as she watched a few cotton-white butterflies dart through a nearby flowerbed. They perched on the bright blue flowers to suckle at the nectar within. Ibara felt more at ease than she ever had in the splendid garden, even if she was seated beside the man she was to marry in a few hours.

“I am relieved you find this place to your liking.” He was silent for a few seconds, then fidgeted uncomfortably. “To be honest,” he confessed with an awkward scratch at the back of his neck, “I was concerned that you would be unhappy in coming here. I understand that marrying a man you have never met is daunting…”  His vermillion eyes flickered to her face, and he flashed her a discomfited smile. “But I hope that you can still find it in yourself to learn to love me…”

“Fumikage,” Ibara whispered in admiration. The boy’s eyes were sad as he stared forlornly at the katana resting against the tree trunk. He is as uneasy about this as I am, she realized. She reached out to grasp one of his hands with both her own. “There is… much I do not know yet about you, just is there is much you don’t know about me,” she admitted with knitted eyebrows and a frown, “and I would be remiss to deny that I am still uncertain.” Fumikage looked at her uncomfortably.

Smiling sweetly, she reached up to run her fingers through his fluffy raven hair, finding it softer than a bird’s down. “I do not know yet what is to become of the two of us in this union, but there is one thing I can say for certain. As we take our vows with the gods as our witnesses, I will mean every word, because I have never met a man as kind and true as you.” He flushed red at her high praise, and he looked down at their adjoined hands. “I came here afraid to meet the man I was to wed. I am not afraid to learn to love you anymore.”

“That relieves me,” Fumikage murmured with a tiny smile. He edged out his thumb to stroke Ibara’s knuckles adoringly. “I am lucky,” he laughed and looked up with a bright smile. “I never imagined that I would marry a woman blessed by a god.” His hand pushed into her waves of green hair to tuck it behind her ear; as it retreated, it came to rest on her cheek, thumb sweeping arcs under her eye. She leaned into his touch, smiling at the peculiar softness of his calloused hand against her face. “I am sure the god looks upon you fondly, being such a generous and honorable woman as you are.”

“You flatter me,” she chuckled. Her eyes grew lidded as Fumikage’s continuous caresses eased her into a sense of security and comfort. There was no lie in his touch; though they had just met, genuine care and love existed in his soft strokes over her skin. Ibara’s eyelashes fluttered demurely as his smile widened.

“You may not want to look at me like that,” he warned spiritedly. “I may do something quite unbecoming of one of my stature.” At the usage of the phrase she had uttered not long ago, Ibara laughed good-naturedly.

“Well,” she smiled invitingly, “I think we have established that I am used to doing things unbecoming of my stature.” His lips curled upward into a smirk. Ibara shifted so that she was facing him fully as his hand pushed further against her cheek. She inhaled deeply in expectation as his face began to enclose on hers. Fumikage’s gaze trained on her lips, which parted slightly in preparation. The tip of his nose brushed against hers. Her eyes fluttered closed so that she could abandon herself in the feeling of their lips melding together.

Ibara released the breath she had been holding in a slow, contented sigh. Fumikage’s lips were soft and supple as they worked against Ibara’s mouth in hesitant, gentle motions. It was a sweet and chaste kiss but not without incredible feeling. When he pulled away, her eyes fluttered open, and she regarded him bashfully. He observed her with similar shyness, and he squeezed her hand firmly.

However, before he could say anything, the servant called from the porch. Though the young girl probably couldn’t see them in the dappled shadows of the large wisteria, the two nobles separated a bit and let go of one another hands to avoid any undue scolding. Fumikage shouted back to acknowledge they had heard the servant’s summons before looking at Ibara with a wan smile.

“Are you ready? It seems our parents have agreed on the final preparations.” Four hours ago, a pit of dread would’ve balled up Ibara’s belly, and nausea would’ve tainted her answer; now, after spending this short time with the young samurai, she was remarkably at peace. She stood and brushed the grass bits from the skirt of her kimono, and then breathed in calmly.

“Yes. I am ready,” Ibara nodded and exhaled a deep breath. She cast him a pleasant smile and extended her hand. “Walk in with me?” she requested hopefully. Fumikage raised an eyebrow at her, weighing the options. Their parents would likely disapprove of their closeness; after all, it was improper to be so intimate before one is married. He decided that he didn’t care and grasped her hand, using the other to grip his sword and use it as leverage to push himself up. Ibara flushed when he interlaced their fingers and smiled affectionately at her.

“All right, then. Let’s go.”

The wisteria flowers kissed Ibara’s face and shoulders as she walked through them, almost as if they were offering her their congratulations. The doused her in their floral perfume and deposited their small lavender petals in her long hair. The pond bubbled a little louder as she passed, or so she imagined, like it was celebrating the union to come. Smiling shyly, she rested her head on Fumikage’s shoulder as they approached the porch. He didn’t say anything, but instead leaned his head against hers with a slight nuzzle, threading his raven hairs with her jade ones.  

“Do you think they would consent to letting us marry under the wisteria? It’s such a splendid tree.” Fumikage chuckled and nodded his head, making their hairs twist further together.

“I am sure that can be arranged.”

They walked into the house, and so began the first moment of the rest of their hopefully blessed days together…

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @deliathedork​ @sadistiks @wesparklebitch​ @simplybakugou​

[buggy-d-hoe]

Odds for your new oc

Wow! Thanks Anonymous! I’m not sure which OC you specified, but I’ll do Felicity since I did a similar one with Alicia :) 

Answers after the break :3 

What is/are your OC’s nickname(s) and how did it come about?

Bill calls her “Lissie” because that was her nickname growing up, given to her by their grandmother. 

James and Q call her T because it’s easier to differentiate between the two when Felicity and Bill are together. James was the first one to come up with it. 

How tall is your OC?

5′6″

What does your OC normally wear? What would your OC wear on a special night?

Felicity has a penchant for nice dresses in the office unless she is in the field. She dresses in whatever attire is needed. She isn’t one to shy away from casual clothes outside of work. 

A special night, she’s a fan of the LBD. 

Does your OC have any markings, such as a birthmark or a scar?

When they were younger, Felicity was well known for being a tomboy and often returned home after a long day with cuts and bruises. Some notable ones are the scars on her arms (especially her forearm) from when Bill chased her and she fell into a rose bush, one on her back of her left shoulder from a bullet graze. She did inherit a new scar on her hip when a bullet cleanly passed through; luckily no vital organs were hit. 

What does your OC’s bedroom look like?  His/her living area?

Very plain since she’s usually at Bill’s place majority of the time because she is too lazy to cook or doesn’t want to order takeout. Probably monochrome colors and enough for a bed, nightstand, a mirror stand and a dresser. On her bed, it’s just a pillow and a blanket since she isn’t one for excessive things. It’s enough for her to sleep in. Maybe throw in a plant in the corner to decorate, but that’s pretty much it. 

Her living area is even plainer with just a couch and a tv. Her walls aren’t decorated 

What is your OC’s relationship with his/her mother?

She has good days and bad days with her mother. She disapproved of her daughter’s area of work and wanted her to be more “feminine”, so any opportunity she gets to persuade Felicity to find another job, she takes it and it drives Felicity insane. Bill tries to talk some sense and deviate from the topic, but it usually never works. 

When she isn’t harping on her daughter, their relationship is solid. Whenever Felicity is home, she’ll always want to go out for lunch and they sit and chat. That is until the topic of switching careers comes up and Felicity cuts the outing short. 

How many siblings does your OC and what is his/her relationship with them?

Felicity is the younger sister of William “Bill” Tanner, the Chief of Staff at MI6. He was the reason she has a job because she dropped out of college and refused to listen to their mom about what career path she was supposed to follow. He helped her attain a desk position until she wanted to be a field agent. He was very much against this, due to being overprotective, but she wanted to prove to their mother and him that she was capable on anything when she put her mind to it. 

She does come over to his place frequently for food because she can’t cook, is lazy, or doesn’t feel like take out. She also loves to drink wine at his place, so he makes sure to stop by the store to grab a bottle to replenish the ones she finishes. 

What was your OC’s childhood like?

Both Bill and Felicity had a loving childhood with their parents. Bill was the more responsible of the two and frequently tried to keep his sister out of trouble or push her away when he played with his friends. Their father worked in the government while their mother stayed home to care for them. Bill and Felicity would often fight in typical brother-sister fashion, but they never lasted longer than a day. 

What is your OC’s imagination like?

It depends on her mood. When she is serious, she adopts that mindset because of her line of work. When she isn’t, she is playful and creative. She sometimes bothers Q with ridiculous requests for weapons which may or may not find their way into her or Bond’s hands. 

What does your OC think of children- either in general or about having them?

Felicity is very nervous around children and terrified at the thought of having them. She doesn’t think she would have the patience for them. Her mother is always on her case about being a grandma and Felicity kindly points out that Bill is also available. 

Who are your OC’s closest relatives?

Out of the three other members, it is definitely Bill. Their dad was usually busy with work and never devoted enough time to the kids and their mom was the one who mainly raised them, but even Felicity gets tired of her mom’s constant nagging. Bill had always been them for Felicity and he is virtually irreplaceable. 

Who are the people your OC surrounds him/herself with?

Felicity does have best friends outside of work from her childhood, but she is mum about her line of work to them. At MI6, she originally kept only to herself when she was at her desk job, only socializing with her brother when he could manage to visit. She does befriend Eve Moneypenny when she eventually is promoted to field agent and they have gone on missions together. Bill INSISTS that Felicity stay away from Bond as he is afraid that his little sister would be defiled by him. She does have a cordial friendship with him but has nearly succumbed to his charms several times, much to Bill’s annoyance. Q is another person that Felicity spends some time with, who is both annoyed and grateful for her presence when she chooses to spend her free time in Q Branch. 

If your OC has a soulmate, who is it?

Felicity is very intrigued with Q because he was one of the first men to not really be stunned by her looks and because he interests her with his babble. She often finds herself wandering into Q Branch often and seeking Q, despite him being uncomfortable at first. When she sits down to listen to him or watch him tinker away, they find some small talk that both are grateful for because it takes away from the hecticness of their work. 

What are some things your OC admires about his/her soulmate?

Felicity likes the simple life Q lives. If he isn’t at work, then he’s at home working on drafts of a new prototype for Bond (hoping he doesn’t break or lose any more of his inventions). He rarely goes out, probably just to the store to grab groceries or wander around the local park. Felicity also likes how Q doesn’t seem to care for attention, keeping to himself and his work, a total 180 from the people she is accustomed to. He also gets into one of those moods whenever he is working that Felicity finds charming. Despite him wishing she would either leave him alone or stop distracting him, Q does find Felicity’s company welcoming and is the first to notice if she hasn’t stopped by his lab. 

What is your OC’s level of education?

Felicity was almost done with her undergraduate studies when she drops out. 

What is your OC’s opinion of school?  What kind of student was s/he?

Felicity is smart when she applies herself, but she hated college because it reminded her of the life she was expected to live after graduating. It felt as if everything was deciding for her without her consent and she hated it. Her mom was notorious for emphasizing what she expected of Felicity and it did strain their relationship, even more so when Felicity dropped out. 

What subjects interested your OC?

In all honesty, Felicity didn’t care much for subjects. She never had a favorite since none really stuck out. She does read on the side (if ever she gets the chance) and learns things from work that she would thought of learning from college. 

How is your OC working towards his/her dream job and/or achieved his/her current profession?

Felicity doesn’t know what she wants yet. She was tired of her mundane life in college and hated how things were decided for her (that and the role that her mom expected her to follow immediately following college). She is enjoying her life as a field agent because it gives her a chance to do more. 

What is your OC’s biggest dream?

To finally be at peace with what she wants out of life. She doesn’t know what she wants yet, but it’s not stopping her from searching. 

How does your OC handle anger?

She likes to get a little even. If she came across something that insulted her or legitimately pissed her off, she won’t hesitate to fire or fight back, depending on the situation of course. She always finds a way to make sure karma does hit them back hard. 

What is your OC’s greatest fear?

Falling short under expectations. This was one reason why she left college. 

What kind of sense of humor does your OC have?

Despite her playful nature, Felicity does have a dry sense of humor, coupled with her typical deadpan expression. She does have her potty humor but not as much. 

What are some things that annoy your OC?

Waiting or when things are too slow. Felicity is more of NOW NOW NOW. You should see her behind the wheel hahaha. Another is when someone doesn’t take her seriously because she is a pretty woman and makes some misogynistic comments about it. 

How easily does your OC forgive?

It depends on the matter. If it’s serious, it will take a while. If it’s a small mishap, she shrugs it off. 

If your OC experienced trauma, what was it?

She did have two near death experiences. One was when she drank too much after dropping out of college and another was on the field when she was shot in the hip, luckily missing vital organs. 

What are some of your OC’s morals?

Anything that involves women and children, Felicity tends to lean in favor of them, sometimes affecting the mission on hand.  She will absolutely NOT harm any of them and sometimes butt head with the senior agent when it comes to that. 

What is the health of your OC?

She is in peak condition due to her being medically and psychologically cleared (barely on the latter).  Before she joined, she had a drinking problem. Although she drinks a lot, it’s more controlled this time around. 

What are your OC’s thoughts on death?

Given her line of work, Felicity is on the fence about it. On one hand, it’s her job to protect her country and the Crown, but on the other hand, she wants more out of life. She is sometimes stuck in the “what is my purpose” mindset. 

What are some of your OC’s weaknesses?

Felicity can be a little impulsive. She is also a bit impatient but if she has a partner on the job with her, she can count on them to rein her in. She wishes she can take charge and make decisions herself on the field, but she usually leaves it to the senior agent in charge. She always questions herself before committing to something and has a problem working under severe pressure. 

What does your OC think of him/herself?

Felicity wishes she can slow down and hold back her playful nature. When she is around the person she likes, she tends to go overboard with her flirts and leaves the other person baffled or a tidbit uncomfortable. She is left mentally berating herself for it and wishes she replay that scene over again. God knows how many wrong first impressions she has given. 

What is the general impression your OC gives other people?

Very playful and flirtatious. Her looks made it more advantageous to her, but she likes to play a game. Some people have a hard time believing her as a result. When she isn’t doing this, she is normally quiet unless she is around people she is comfortable with. 

How does your OC display love?

Felicity is flirtatious and it’s easy to mistaken it as a game to her. She does portray it like that, given her playful nature, but when it comes to someone she is interested in, she is upfront about how she feels. She doesn’t like to beat around the bush. She is known to brush her hand against the other person or leave her hand for a longer period of time. She is affectionate through the little things. 

What is your OC’s favorite drink?

It honestly depends on her mood hahahaha. Outside of work, she can be found with a glass in her hand. 

What is your OC’s favorite sweet?

Felicity can’t resist Haribo gummy bears

What is your OC’s favorite kind of weather?

Anything that doesn’t involve the sun. She hates hot weather and prefers the chill. 

What is your OC’s favorite movie and/or TV show?

Anything she finds entertaining. See right below

What is your OC’s favorite form of entertainment?

When she gets the chance, she loves watching movies or anything interesting on the tv. She does love her romance and action movies are hilarious to her because ironically, they aren’t as intense as the ones she experiences. 

What is your OC’s favorite scent?

Anything tropical, fresh laundry, and coffee brewing

What is your OC’s favorite sound?

Water running/rain

What is your OC’s favorite kind of ice cream?

Cookies n’ Cream

Ask your own question: Will Felicity and Q ever jump ship and give a relationship a try? 

MAYBE! hahaha

[obscuritas-est-lux]

( emmy rossum, cisfemale, she/her ) ⌇ have you seen Harper Robbins around icaria? they are the 34 year old child of amphitrite. they remind me of ocean waves, southern sweet tea, and burnt homemade cookies. They’ve been on the island for 6 months.

Full Name: Harper Elfrida Robbins Nickname: Harp, Elfie  Age: 34 Birthday: April 21 Sexuality: Bisexual  Occupation: Marine Biologist/ Marine Mammal Specialist  Powers:  Hydrokinetic Aura and ability to communicate with Dolphins and some other sea mammals 

Family History: 

Thornton Barrow was a southern boy through and through specifically a 10th generation Georgian. His family owned the Wormsloe Mansion that was located in the Isle of Hope. In 1976 most of the land about 750 acres was given over to the Nature Convervatory. The state then opened up Wormsloe Historical Site but the house and some of the land around 50 acres was still maintained by the family. Thornton knew that he was going to inherit his ancestral homestead one day. He was raised in the Isle of Hope. Thornton was fortunate enough to attend boarding schools and had life pretty much given to him on a silver platter. He had everything he had ever wanted in life. While his father was in charge of Wormsloe Mansion he was able to live his life how he saw fit of course with some conditions. 

Thornton went to the University of Georgia just like his father did. He spent most of this time partying and screwing around. Underneath his playboy appearance there was a smart southern gentleman. He just never decided to show himself unless there was some need of course. Or if his parents were around. Thornton had just turned 20 he decided he was going to use one of his family’s boat and sail from Georgia down to Florida. He was going to meet his friends while they were all on vacation. While he was on his way to Florida his boat was capsized in a major storm. He couldn’t remember much from the storm but he remembered seeing a woman pulling him to shore. Just like in the movie that would become the Little Mermaid. Thornton woke up on the sand but instead of like in the movie where the woman Thornton speak this woman gave him a piece of his mind. She yelled and carried on about all the things he had dumped into the ocean and how stupid he was for going out during hurricane season. He didn’t really pay much attention to what she was saying because he was too focused on how beautiful she was. 

Needless to say Thornton had decided to make it his one and only goal to win that woman over. Little did he know what the cost of his efforts was going to be. The woman who called herself Doris was not actually a typical woman at all. Thornton spent the summer with Doris instead of continuing his journey to meet his friends. He was surprised every day that she came back to see him. As their affection grew for each other so did their relationship. He had fallen in love with the woman and wanted to bring her home. The fact that her boat was never found and she seemed to come out of nowhere never crossed his mind. At the end of the summer it was time for Thornton to head back to Athens and college. He begged Doris to come with him. She said she couldn’t. But she wanted him to meet her back at the beach where they washed ashore after he graduated. He agreed and went back. Thornton never forgot about her. He spent that entire year only thinking about her. He graduated in May of 1986. As soon as he could he traveled down to the small beach where he had said goodbye to the woman he loved. With a ring in his pocket he rushed over to her. Thornton was met with a surprise. When Doris turned around she was holding an infant. 

Doris explained to him that she was actually Amphitrite and was already married to the God of the Sea. She handed over their child to him and begged him to take care of her and love their child the way he had loved her. Thornton agreed but was deeply saddened when Amphitrite informed him that she could not be with him. She did say if he came to this spot on the day of the crash, July 7th he may be able to see her. Thornton took his child back home to the Isle of Hope. His parents had just moved into the Wormsloe Mansion; he asked that they take care of his child while he got his life together. The Barrows agreed wanting to keep everything under wraps. They did not want the world to know that their son Thornton Barrow had an illegitimate child. 

At his parents push Thornton married his childhood friend and family acquaintance Anna Raines. Her family had lived in Savannah while she was a small child and moved to England. Anna and her family lived in London until her Grandfather became sick in 1986. The family came back to help her Grandparents. While being home again Anna ran into Thornton who as a child she had a major crush on. Whenever she came over from England to visit her grandparents Anna liked to make a trip over to Wormsloe where she would hopefully see him. This time instead of finding Thornton she found his parents with a three month old child. She was of course confused but instantly fell in love with the girl. 

Seeing how much Anna loved the baby The Barrows convinced the Raines that Anna and Thornton should be married. Thornton was still heart broken over the mother of his child and agreed to whatever his parents asked of him. Two weeks later Anna and Thornton were married on the grounds of Wormsloe Mansion. Anna adopted the baby girl and she was named Harper. Anna and Thornton moved to Savannah where they could raise their child without speculation. Around a year after their marriage Anna gave birth to Palmer Thornton Barrow. the true heir of the family. 

History:

Harper grew up much like her father. She went to boarding school, had tutors, had to take etiquette classes. Everything in her life was about how people saw you. She had to be seen in the right clothes, with the right people and of course doing the upstanding thing. Even though she was older than her brother he always received more attention. He was the heir of Wormsloe Mansion after all. Because of this Harper grew to have a bit of a rebellious side. She would constantly push the limit to see how far and how much her parents would let her get away with. 

When it was time for her to go to college she was expected to go to the University of Georgia just like her father and his father. Harper had other plans. Since she grew up visiting the Isle of Hope and other beach areas Harper felt at home with the water. When she was little they would have to pull her kicking and screaming away. She wasn’t sure when she decided she wanted to be a marine biologist. After visiting a bunch of schools in Georgia and South Carolina, Harper landed on Emory University in Atlanta. At first she fought with her father on the issue. He wanted her to have the best education and be able to have all the extras he got to have as a student. Harper wanted to go some place where people had no idea who she was. She wanted to be able to say her last name and not have someone ask about her father or grandfather like they had been best friends with them. Finally her father agreed. 

Harper headed off to college with bright eyes and an open heart. It wasn’t long into her Freshman year that she had slid into the party life just like her father before her. One night she went to a Fraternity party that was hosted by Morehouse College. It was at this party where she met Malik. Harper was more like her father than she would have admitted. Just like him she fell head over heals for a man she just met. He was charming and sweet. He also happened to be the most handsome man she’d ever met. The two quickly started spending more and more time together. They started to date. Harper never mentioned her family in detail. It wasn’t until a family day her senior year, 3 years after they had started dating that her family ever met Malik. It didn’t go very well. 

Harper graduated ready to start the next section of her life. Malik was working on his passion and always encouraged her to do the same. Right after she had graduated Harper applied to Graduate school in Charleston. On their anniversary Malik asked Harper to marry him, without her family’s blessing and she did. They had a small church wedding with his family and their college friends. Harper thought her parents were not going to show up since they had told her when she announced her engagement they did not approve. It was a shock to everyone that Thornton and Anna Barrow attended the wedding and Thornton walked Harper down the aisle. Everything seemed great. Harper was working on her Master’s degree and Malik was working towards his goals. They were happy. 

 When Harper was 24 she had just finished Grad school and was searching for jobs. She landed a job on a research boat. Harper had been obsessed with marine mammals for as long as she could remember. There was nothing more that she wanted to do then be on the water and researching. So with her husband’s support Harper took the job and started to travel. Her job kept her away from home for months at a time. Their once perfect and happy marriage started to fall apart. Living so far from each other was becoming difficult. Harper didn’t want to give up her dream. She decided to offer Malik a divorce. They two wanted different things. Of course that was until the day Harper found out she was pregnant. Harper quit her job as a researcher and started to work at the local aquarium instead. 

Things were getting back to normal. She was happy again. She didn’t resent having to quit her dream job. She simply got a new dream. She spent her pregnancy happy and excited. When she went into labor she couldn’t have been more enamored to finally have her babies in her arms. While giving birth there were complications. They were premature and not ready. The twins were sent to the NICU. Harper and Malik were distraught but there was nothing they could do. A week after her babies were born her baby girl did not make it. Her lungs were so under developed. There were many reasons given. Their son, survived but was born deaf. Harper tried her best to be a good mother. She wanted to love her son. She really did but there were sometimes where she couldn’t even look at him. Harper spent the first few months separating herself from everyone. 

Malik came home one day to Harper sitting in the living room with the baby crying in the bassinet beside her. She looked like she had been in a daze. That was the moment that he convinced her that she needed help. While in therapy Harper discovered that she was suffering from post partum depression. She spent the next few years getting herself together. She tried to be in Malik and their son’s life the best that she could but whenever she came around her son it would trigger another depressive episode. Finally Harper checked herself into a facility where she could turn her full attention at herself. By this point most of the life and respect that had once been strong between Malik and Harper was now gone. After she came home from the center she filed for divorce. 

Ever since the two have been co-parenting their son the best way that they can. Harper is doing much better and even has 50/50 custody of her son. It took a lot of effort and time but she is finally able to love and enjoy being with her son. Everyone has their bad days but she is finally in a good place mentally. She doesn’t regret her choice. She knew she had to do what she did in order to get better so she could be a better mom for her son. While she was visiting her parents her father asked her to go with him somewhere. She left her son with her mother while she traveled to a beach with her father. He knew that she loved the beach. 

There was a woman standing on the sand. Who looked no older than her and sort of looked like her. Harper was very confused. Her whole life she had always believed Anna was her mother. Thornton explained to Harper who the woman was and how they met. Harper met her mother for the first time that day. It was also that day that her mother suggested she move her family to an island in Greece. Harper wasn’t about to up and move her family just because some woman who may be her mother said so. She said she’d think about it and then they left. 

A few months later the meeting with her “mother” turned into a memory. Harper was offered a lead Dolphin researcher and trainer position at an aquarium in Icaria, Greece. This somehow turned into an opportunity that she couldn’t turn down. The aquarium there had been apart of dolphin sanctuaries research. Harper talked to Malik and told him she was taking the job and begged him to move with her. Strangely enough he agreed. Harper moved to the island 6 months ago with her ex-husband and their son. Things were starting to look up again. She was feeling good and she was turning into a not so bad mother after all. 

[danikavisser]

( cis-female ) haven’t seen HADLEY BECKER around in a while. the EMILY BROWNING lookalike has been known to be (+) PASSIONATE & (+) AMBITIOUS, but SHE can also be (-) RECLUSIVE & (-) STUBBORN. The 22 year old is a SENIOR majoring in MUSIC COMPOSITION. I believe they’re living in WANDERER but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door. 

okay it’s me again, madison, back at it with a new muse. but im excited to play her and also i love emily browning. there are not a lot of gif icons for her tho so i’ll probably end up using medium gifs (which are my preference anyways) LIKE THIS IF YOU’D LIKE TO PLOT AND I’LL MESSAGE YOU!

abuse mention tw, death tw,

so her mom died while giving birth to her younger sister, the baby died too, which was tough and it definitely took it’s toll on the family. her father spiraled into a downward depression and took to alcohol and hadley did everything she could to try to keep him happy but she was only six and not enough. her father committed suicide.

it was hard for a young child to go through so much trauma like that and Hadley was actually mute for 4 years, which definitely prevented her from getting adopted. While she couldn’t express herself through words she tried through drawings, books and music but people were too busy obsessing over getting her to literally speak that they missed how the young girl was attempting to communicate to them.

When she was nine years old she was moved into a particularly troublesome foster home with a really fucked up foster dad. I’ll spare you the details. But it was during these days that Hadley would sneak out of her house and seek solace in a local church. It was here that she discovered the harp. The moment she laid eyes upon it, she knew she had found her calling even if she didn’t know how to play it. She’d never seen such a beautiful instrument before and for weeks she would literally just wander in, sit at the first pew and stare at it for hours, taking in every detail. 

The church’s harpist took notice of her, the girl who hid behind her hoodie and didn’t speak. It was a saving grace for the girl who was convinced she was a relative of the shadows. Funny that the woman’s name also happened to be Grace and while Hadley didn’t believe in God, this fact was not missed. Grace taught Hadley how to play the harp and for the first time in her life, she felt she had a purpose.

Word got out about what her foster dad was doing to those kids in his home. It was a total spectacle, hit the news everywhere. So once again Hadley found herself packing up her things. None of which things that held any value to her except the photo of her parents she kept hidden in her pocket. Grace gave Hadley her harp, probably coming from a place of sympathy and pity but Hadley was grateful and although it wasn’t the easiest thing to carry around from foster home to foster home, the instrument itself had become her home.

Her next Foster Home was the greatest one yet! It was to a music loving couple who were always smiling and singing. It was so fucking foreign to Hadley but it was here that she started to open up. She was about 10 and a half years old when she started to speak again. Not a lot but it was a start. For the first time she felt what it was like to be loved and to love.

She was here for four years and while they didn’t have the means to actually adopt her, they became family. But all of that was abolished when their house went up in flames and caught on fire. No one was hurt but they lost everything. Fucking lucky that Hadley’s harp was in the music room at her school. 

After getting so close to having a family and having it ripped away, she gave up on the idea so for the next four years she didn’t focus on anything other than her music and school, knowing that was the only thing she could count on. She had a couple more abusive foster homes but she became numb to the whole thing and just kept on keeping on, waiting for the day she could just break away and actually start her life.

Got into Lockwood with a full ride scholarship so obviously she couldn’t pass it up.

Never got adopted and still doesn’t have family.

Works at the theatre part time

personality:

a quiet and mysterious person. comes off as cool and collected but in all actuality she’s a lost soul, intimidated by the rest of the people that surround her who seem to know what they want to do. also intimidated by people who have no problem loving others and opening themselves up? has major trust issues. especially with men. has no problem fighting for other people and she’d risk her life for those that she loves. doesn’t believe that anybody notices her so she tends to keep to herself.

plots that i’m looking for:

exes- give me the angst. i’d ideally like someone she was super in love with but sabotaged the entire thing because she was so afraid of these feelings and just…things are still very sore between them. but i’d also love exes where things are fine between them now and no hard feelings.

unrequited crush- tbh i’d like one from both ends...someone she’s crushing on hardcore but she hides it well and also someone who is crushing on her but she’s oblivious because she thinks no one knows who she is

hook ups- all of them pls and thx.

fwb all of these pls too.

bad influence buddies - people that are trying to get hadley out of her shell

one night stands, enemies, frenemies, neighbors, roommates, ex-friends, co-workers, etc, !

[thelittlestkitsune]

Ad-Listed. [smut]

A;N: So, hello! This is kind of different for me, I’m well aware of that, but I had the idea in my head and I couldn’t let it go! This is an AU as Stiles is not in BH, he’s in his senior year of college! Please let me know what you think. Hope you enjoy xo Lau

Pairing: StilesxReader

Author: thelittlestkitsune

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Explicit Content.

Word count: .10, 810

Listen to me.      part two. 

One week to Kirstie’s wedding.  

You groaned as you slid into the pleather booth at the local diner, glancing at your phone. Ten till two and he said he’d be here at two. Guess I better get a coffee then. You flagged the waitress, ordering a latte as you sat and scrolled through your phone, looking at the date your bridesmaid dress was supposed to arrive. Why did you leave getting your dress until so late, you always leave everything until it’s so late. You sighed to yourself as the waitress brought your coffee, a wide grin on her face. You smiled back as you looked out the window, watching as Mike walked past the window.

 He gave you a small wave as he stalked by, his long legs reaching the door of the diner before you could even blink. He leant over you, kissing your cheek before sliding into the booth opposite you. “Hey Gwen!” His voice was chipper, a light reflecting in his grey eyes. “Hey Mike, what’s up? I thought we weren’t supposed to be meeting till tonight? Is everything okay?” You asked, your hands wrapping around the cup in front of you as he flagged the waitress. “Funny you should ask that, cause everything’s great actually-” He paused, turning to the pretty brunette. “Hey love, can I have a large iced coffee please?” She shook her head as you looked out the window “Sorry but we only have hot coffee here.” She shrugged apologetically. “Ah that’s okay then! Can I have a slice of that cheesecake and a large cappuccino please?” He asked, a wink following suit. “Sure, be with you in minute.” He grinned as he returned back to you. What is it with this guy?

You asked yourself that every time you met with him, sure he made you laugh, but there was something about him that put you on edge. You brushed away the feeling as he turned to you, his eyes still sparkling. “Anyway, what were we talking about?” He continued as you sipped on your coffee. “Everything’s gr-” He cut you off as he reached across the table, his hands finding yours. “There’s no really easy way to say this, but-” He fumbled for a moment, his brows knitting above his eyes. “- I really don’t want to jinx it but there’s this girl.” Your heart leapt in your chest as panic flooded your system. Please don’t confess your love to me, please no, I don’t think I can handle that. You swallowed nervously as he stuttered. “And I think that she might be the one, so i’m going to ask her to marry me.” You felt bile rise in your throat, your heart hammering in your chest. You tapped your fingers nervously. “So I wanted to ask you-” You cut him off, the words spilling from your mouth as you shook your head. “No. I don-” He pulled back, reaching into his pocket as you felt your head spin. Is he deaf? I said no? “Is this ring okay?” He asked, showing the princess cut diamond nestled in the padding of the box.  

Shit, that’s a fancy ring. You breathed in, the air tasting thick as it swirled in your lungs. “Do you think she’ll like it?” He asked as you looked at him with a confused look on your face. “It’s a beautiful ring but-” You exhaled shakily, your eyes avoiding his as you reached for the coffee on the table. “I can’t wait to ask her, I’m going to do it in front of the Lincoln memorial tomorrow.” He gushed as you wracked your brain for something to say. “Wait, I think we’re getting our wires crossed. Who’s the ring for?” He looked taken aback as he snapped the box shut. “It’s for-” He paused, looking out the window as he drummed his fingers on the table. “It’s for this girl I’ve been seeing. We’ve not been seeing each other for very long, but she makes me laugh and I saw the ring and I thought she’d love it.” You looked at him in confusion, your fingers wrapped tightly around the handle of your mug. “I’m sure she does, but if you’ve not been seeing her for very long then shouldn’t you wait?” You questioned as your heart slammed against your rib cage. “She seems super into me and I think I’m in it for the long haul if she is. Which is why I’m here today-” You interrupted him before he could go any further. “I don’t think I’m in it for the long haul Mike, like you’re a great guy but I don’t see myself with you.” You rushed the words, refusing to look at him as you did so, your fingers tightening more as you white knuckled.  

“Well as flattered as I am Gwen, the ring isn’t for you.” He deadpanned, his eyes serious as you looked at him finally. “I came here to break it off with you.” He admitted as you felt the air get sucked from your lungs. Any panic that had been in your system evaporated as anger flooded your body. “So the ring is for some other girl? Another girl you’ve been seeing?!” You could feel yourself getting hysterical, your voice raising in the small diner. He nodded as he took a sip of his drink, wincing as he burnt his tongue, recoiling against the back of his seat. “Yeah, I thought you were seeing other guys, we were never exclusive.” He rolled his eyes as he looked over you. “Yeah, we talked about it at length obviously. I never said we were exclusive but you never said we weren’t.” You responded, your words like venom as they left your mouth. “I mean it’s not like I don’t like you Gwen, but I knew there were other girls out there. I was just playing the field.” He tried to justify his actions as you sat there, your head almost ready to explode with anger.

“Well it’s nice to finally know this Mike. Here’s something you should know, you’re an ass. You at least had the decency to not cheat on her, but I hope she knows that you were sleeping with the both of us. Doing us both a disservice.” You smiled as you stood up. “But  you know what? I’m glad you found her and I wish you both the best. Saves me the grief of breaking up with you after the wedding.” He rolled his eyes, his lips curled up in a smile. “I wasn’t even going to turn up, I never wanted to go to the stupid wedding.” You seethed as you grabbed your bag, chucking it over your shoulder. “I’m glad you didn’t. Have a nice life. Hopefully this girl can look past the fact that you’re a one pump chump that couldn’t get me to orgasm even if I gave you a manual on how to do it.” You spat, grabbing the last of your drink as half the diner turned to look at your outburst. “Fuck you Gwen.” He stammered, his face flushed red. “No Mike. Fuck you.” You drank the last of your drink before heading for the door, pushing it open as you flipped Mike the finger. Wanker.  

3 days till Kirstie’s wedding.

You flopped down onto the bed, cursing as your headphones ripped out your ears. “Fuck, just gimme a minute, I’m crushing myself.” You spoke, moving so you were supported in the middle of your bed. “Nope, not good enough. Fuck your comfort bitch!” You heard your best friend swear as you put your headphone back in your ear. “Screw you asshole. Now are you going to stop being rude and fucking help me?” You sighed, rubbing your fingers over your temples. “Chill out, god damn woman, you’re stressing out about nothing!” She laughed as you felt your cheeks get hot. “I’m not stressing about nothing! I’m stressing about the fact that I’m a bridesmaid at my sister’s wedding in 3 days and I don’t even have a date.” You sighed, your eyes closing as you took a shaky breath. “Why don’t you just go stag? You know it’s not a societal thing that you have to have a date you know?” You shook your head, knowing she couldn’t see you. “You don’t understand my family Nik, my grandma is going to be so far up my ass about not having a man at my age. She wants grandkids even though she already has like 4. She’s ridiculous and old fashioned and if I turn up stag then she’s just going to harp at me that I’ll die alone.” You tried to play it off but the reality of that was cripplingly realistic. “You’re not going to die alone, you’re the one who doesn’t want to date so you’re not even on your own side right now G.” You grunted in agreement. “It’s not like there’s much option here. Washington is good if you like brainy guys that look like they ran into a wall. Not so great if you want a good looking guy that also has a brain.” You heard Nikki chuckle down the line. “Beauty over brains huh? You’re so shallow!” You rolled your eyes as you cursed her out.  

“Oh yeah cause you’re going to go for Hawking over Hardy. Obviously.” you collapsed into a fit of giggles as you returned back to your dilemma. “Nikki, what the fuck am I going to do?” She hummed for a moment before almost shouting. “TINDER” Your heart almost plummeted into your stomach as she suggested it. “Oh yeah good one, just put my bio as just looking for a wedding escort.” Your voice dripped with sarcasm as she sighed. “You’re so picky. Maybe you should just get a hooker.” You laughed at the thought, genuinely mulling it over for a moment too long. Nikki pulled you from your thoughts of half-naked Adonis types as she thought aloud. “I wonder if people did that girlfriend experience thing?” She trailed off as you interjected. “I think my granddad would have an actual heart attack if I turned up with a girl.” You laughed, imagining the shock on his face. “- No like legit, what if there were people that you could pay to go on a date with you?” She continued, her tone questioning. “You mean like a hooker?” You asked, sitting up on your bed as you pulled your laptop up from its resting place on the floor. “I mean, in a sense, like you’re not hiring them to fuck, it’s sort of a last-minute option? You know, like the experience of a boyfriend without having to court a guy” She chuckled as she muttered under her breath. “You sound like my grandma when you say court a guy, but doesn’t this seem super skeez? Like you could literally be paying anybody to be your date.” You questioned, your fingers flying over the keys of your keyboard as you typed. Boyfriend experience, Washington dc.  

Your eyes scanned through the pages as you clicked through, your heart in your stomach. “It’s prostitution Nikki!” You exclaimed after you had seen enough to put you off the idea. “Well then maybe don’t search for the boyfriend experience then asshat. Honestly, you’re about as dumb as a pile of bricks. Why don’t you try craigslist?” Nikki suggested as you rolled your eyes so hard you thought they would get lodged in the back of your head forever. “Yeah, sure cause getting murdered at a wedding was the way I want to die. Plus it’s just full of creeps. But fine, I’ll have a look.” You typed in the search bar, 133 entries popped up most of which didn’t contain an attached picture. “Nikki, what have you got me into, most of these people are looking for casual freaky sex usually something illegal looking. This is sleazy, what if they try to offer me drugs?” You laughed as she snorted on the other end of the line. “If they offer you drugs take them they are expensive, not like you need the money though!” She ended. “Fine, but you know if I die this is going to weigh on your conscience forever-” You started before collapsing into a fit of giggles. “-shame you don’t have one” Nikki agreed wholeheartedly. “You know it, I’m only coming to the funeral if you have nachos but I’ll settle for truffle mac and cheese.” You sighed, knowing that she always made you laugh when you needed it most. “You’re such a bitch, you aren’t getting more than ice cream and jelly” The line went silent as you heard her voice boom suddenly. “Deal.”  

You concentrated on the screen for a moment, one ad in particular catching your eye. “Nik, do you think this sounds murderous or pervy or genuinely quite sweet.” You paused as you enlarged the ad. “It says he’s a college student across town, he just needs to make some extra cash for classes and books-” Nikki cut you off before you could finish. “He sounds like a stripper. He sounds perfect. He’s a stripper that supplies his own pole.” You burst into laughter, snorts coming from your mouth as you sucked in a giant breath of air. “I hate you so much for doing this to me. I refuse to talk to you right now, so I’m going to hang up on you and I’ll message you about the emails. I can’t take you seriously right now and I can’t believe you’ve dragged me into this.” You heard a commotion on the other end as Nikki got really close to the receiver. “Kicking and screaming bitch, kicking and screaming.” She gave you no time to respond before kicking you off the call leaving you to stare at the screen blankly. You sighed as you clicked contact ad lister, your heart hammering in your chest as you sent an email. I hope he isn’t a murderer.  

Two days to the wedding.  

You groaned as you slid into the pleather booth at the local diner, glancing at your phone. Ten to twelve and he said he’d be here around twelve ish. Guess I better get a coffee then. You flagged the waitress, ordering a latte as you sat and scrolled through your phone, your leg jittering under the table. The last time I was here for a date type thing it didn’t end too well, maybe I should of told him to meet me somewhere else? You swallowed your nerves as the waitress smiled, watching as several men passed by the window. You didn’t dare look as the bell jangled above the entry to the diner, deep voices filling the space around you. Did he bring a friend? Am I going to die? You buried your head in your phone, texting Nikki as you waited for Stiles to arrive. Stiles is such a weird name. You thought to yourself as the bell jangled again. This time though you braved turning around, your eyes following the noise as you saw the middle aged balding man in the doorway. He looked around the room, his eyes falling on you as he gave you a smile. Stiles said he was a college student, but there was nothing to say that he couldn’t be a mature student. You turned back to look at the man in the doorway, grateful in the fact that he had disappeared. You turned to the waitress as she gave you a smile, grabbing your latte in her hands as she made her way over to you.

“Are you waiting for someone love? Hopefully not that guy you were with the other day.” She spoke softly, her eyes darting out the window as she placed the coffee on the table in front of you. “Yeah, I’m meeting a blind date, but I don’t know what he looks like and I’m just praying that I’m not meeting Shrek.” You laughed nervously, your fingers drumming on the table in front of you. “Well I’m here all day, if your date turns up and is a complete creep then I can sneak you out the back through the staff entrance.” She winked as she stood back up, smoothing over her apron. “Just ask for an iced coffee, I’ll know what you need!” She finished with a smile as she turned tail and headed back towards the service hatch. You smiled to yourself as you pulled out your phone, sending a quick text to Nikki, telling her that you were feeling a little bit safer at least. The door went again as you whipped your head around, almost smashing your face into the backrest of your seat. Your eyes fell on an elderly couple, their hands entangled as they looked on at you in horror, their feet shuffling on the vinyl flooring as they squeaked off away from your judgemental stare. You whipped back around, wanting nothing more than the ground to swallow you whole and take you to hell where you belonged.  

You rested your arms on the table, your head nestled in the crook of your arm, your cheeks flushing red. Just let me die of embarrassment, they probably think I’m possessed. You sighed as you lifted your head, your peripherals catching a glimpse of flannel and dark hair as you returned upwards. Looks kind of young? You thought to yourself as the dark-haired guy walked past your booth. Everything in you wanted to say his name, on the off chance it was Stiles but you kept your mouth shut. Ultimately you were glad you did as he walked to the only other girl sat in the diner, her laptop obscuring her face. He hovered by her table for a moment before finally settling into the booth opposite her. You watched him for a second, hoping he was Stiles just in the wrong booth but when she closed her laptop screen she gave him a smile and you felt your heart drop. Guess it’s back to looking out the window I guess. You took a sip of your coffee, swirling the liquid over your tongue as you sighed. You glanced nervously at the clock on the wall as you saw the flannel clad boy stand from the booth. “Sorry I bothered you, I’m looking for someone else.” He spoke as you heard his voice resonate through the small diner.  

Maybe it was him after all. He paced away from the booth the girl inside of it wishing him luck as he scanned the diner. It took him a while before his eyes fell on you, your cheeks flushing red as you finally took a proper look at his face. He was not what you were expecting at all. Tall, well-built but a boyish charm in his face. You watched as he dug in his pockets, long fingers wrapping around his phone as he text. Your phone buzzed on the table, the vibration almost deafening. His eyes found your phone, a smile forming on his mole speckled face. He reached your booth quickly, his long legs crossing the diner. “You must be Gwen.” He smiled, as you nodded, your heart in your throat. “You must be Stiles” You replied as he sat down in the booth, his knees knocking against your own as he jittered his legs. “That would be me, sorry if I’m a bit weird right now, I stupidly decided that I needed to drink an espresso on the way here cause I was trashed from late night studying, but now the caffeine that has replaced my blood stream is making me all weird.” He gave you a half smile, one corner of his lips staying static as his eyes narrowed. “I feel you there about the late night studying, I once decided to make my morning coffee with red bull instead of water and I swear to fucking god I could taste music.” You laughed, lifting your mug to your lips, taking another sip of the liquid. “Let me know what trap music tastes like, I can imagine it tastes like an amalgamation of cocaine and tequila with gummy bears.” He cracked a joke, your nerves dissipating in his easy company.  

“So Stiles, what brings you to Washington? You said you’re a college student and nobody really goes in state here.” He reached for the back of his neck, his fingers trailing over the skin and hair there as you watched him mesmerised. “I’m in the FBI programme, senior year. I got family in law enforcement and I wanted to be like my pops.” He admitted, a flush flooding his pale cheeks. Hot and smart. “What about you?” He asked as the waitress came over. You half expected him to ignore you as you spoke now that she was here but he was rapt as you told him about your course. “I study law, it’s nothing spectacular. I want to go further I’m a senior and hopefully I can pass this year and get my masters by like 23.” He looked at you in awe, his caramel brown eyes wide. “You’re hella smart, reminds me of a girl I used to know back home. She was smart too, too smart for her own good.” He smirked, giving you a small wink. Something within you twinged at the innocent gesture as he turned to the waitress, ordering a coffee for himself. “Brains over beauty I guess!” You chuckled, downing the last of your latte before settling it back down. “Seems like both to me” He admitted, a smile almost constantly etched onto his face.

“Cheeky aren’t you?” You joked as he looked panicked all of a sudden. “Honestly? This is my first time doing something like this so I don’t know what’s expected of me and I almost didn’t come because-” His words were speeding up as he started to hyperventilate, his eyes darting around the room. “-Stiles, calm down. I don’t know either, I don’t know how this works so how about we just work it out together?” You reached for his hands, your smaller ones cradling one of his as his breathing slowed. “Thanks, I don’t know why I was so nervous, you seem really nice already.” He admitted, looking up at you through thick lashes. “You seem nice too Stiles, now how about you tell me how you got into this mess.”

“I have my best friend to blame for this, I rang him up a couple of days ago, saying that I was super strapped for cash and I couldn’t ask my dad for much more money-” You nodded, your fingers lacing together underneath your chin. “- and he said to me about how he made a bit of extra cash in his first year. You know, dating people for money. I told him that I didn’t think that anybody here would go for something like this, or someone like me but he basically told me I’d be stupid not to at least go for it. I thought it sounded a bit like a hooker and I’m no hooker. ” He shrugged, looking down at his coffee as the waitress placed it in front of him. “Can I get you anything love?” She asked as you pulled your attention away from him, looking in her eyes with a smile on your face. “Just another latte, and maybe a slice of that cake?” You nodded as she gave you a wink before returning to her station. “Why did you think no one would go for you? Is that why you didn’t put a picture up? Plus, I said that it sounded like a hooker but it’s a legit thing people do!” He nodded, shy all of a sudden. “Not only that but I haven’t really been in any photos for a long time” He chuckled nervously, lifting the mug to his lips. “Shame, you’re about to be in a lot of them at the wedding.” You laughed as he almost did a spit take, his caramel eyes blown wide in panic. “Stiles! Calm down! I’m a bridesmaid, I have to be in the photos and so does my date!” He calmed slightly as you talked. Finally, he swallowed the coffee he’d been holding in his mouth, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he took a deep breath. “Sorry about that! You know when your brain short circuits and it doesn’t process information correctly? My brain automatically thought it was our wedding.”  

His laugh echoed through the small space between you, his warmth and smile feeling like sunshine on your skin, even though the skies outside were rainy and grey. “That’d be a story wouldn’t it? We knew each other for two days before we decided to get married! Talk about a Disney romance! All I need is for you to break out into song!” You laughed, your smile stretching from ear to ear. He ducked his head, his fingers running over his neck again as you both laughed. “That’d be a sight, I’m tone deaf, it’s like a strangled cat when I sing sometimes! However, dancing-” He admitted, his smile mirroring yours. “-dancing is something I can do” You shook your head as he danced in the middle of the diner. “You’ll dance with me at the wedding then won’t you?” He stopped, his laugh coming in bursts as he stifled a laugh “Never in a million years. I refuse to share my golden dance moves with anyone!” You shrugged your shoulders as you thanked the waitress. “You never know Stiles! Anything could happen!” He shrugged in response, his head cocking to the side as he lifted the mug again. “So how did a girl like you find the ad? And why in the fresh fuck did you need the ad in the first place?” He asked as you readied yourself. “Stiles, are you comfortable? Cause this is a long story.” You warned as he shifted in his seat, leaning back against the backrest, his long legs still brushing against yours. “I’m ready, lay it on me.”  

Hours passed as you sat in the diner, eventually grabbing a meal together as you chatted, figuring out the perfect cover story as to how you two met. “A museum? Really? I was checking out the artwork and instead found you?” He laughed as he pushed his plate aside, the curly fries on it long gone cold from the flow of conversation. “What! I think it’s cute!” You defended your choice as you spooned ice cream into your mouth. “It is cute! If this were a movie! But you need this to be believable right?!” You nodded, agreeing with what he was saying but still holding onto the idea in case of an emergency. “We’ll figure it out, you have my number right?” Stiles asked as you nodded, your mouth still full of ice cream. “It’s getting late and I have some coursework to be doing so I should be heading back across town” He gathered his things as he beckoned the waitress over to pay for his coffee’s and the food he had bought. “Stiles let me, it’s the least I can do you know?” You asked as he shook his head. “My mom brought me up to be a gentleman, I’ll get it this time” He smiled as you sat back reaching into your bag to get your purse. “Fine but I’m paying for your cab fare. I know you didn’t drive here!” You winked, handing him the crumpled notes as he blushed. “Thanks Gwen!” he smiled, his eyes twinkling in the dimming light.  

“No need to thank me, you’re doing me a favour by going to the wedding with me. Speaking of, you need to pick your suit up from De Louice on Fessenden St tomorrow. It’s important! You can’t be showing up in a flannel!” You winked as he dropped his head. “How much should I take with me?” He asked in a small voice. “You don’t have to pay for it, it’s already paid for!” You smiled as he looked up, something in his eyes that wasn’t there before. “Thanks again Gwen.” He leaned over, placing a kiss on your cheek as you felt shivers run down your spine. “Thank you Stiles and I’ll see you on Saturday!” He nodded, running his fingers through his hair as he left the diner. I’m actually kind of excited for the wedding now.  

The day of Kirsties Wedding.  

Your stomach was in knots as you stared at your phone screen.  

Gwen: So you got the plan right? Meet at the Watergate’s hotel bar at half past two, ceremony is supposed to start at half past three. Then the reception!  

Stiles: Sure thing chicken wing, you got it! See you at half past two. I’ll be the one in the suit.  

Gwen: It’s a wedding Stiles, all the guys will be in a suit.  

Stiles: Well I’ll be the dork in a suit.  

Gwen: I’ll see you at half past two Stiles xx

You glanced in the top corner of your screen, watching as the clock ticked over to 2:45. What if he changed his mind and decided not to come. You pushed the thought out of your mind as you took a swig of your drink, the alcohol calming your raging nerves as your brother came through the door of the bar. He rushed over to you, his face red as he loosened off his tie. “Gwen, we need you to start getting everything ready, Kirstie needs you up with her, she’s really nervous. You’re the head bridesmaid, you’re supposed to be by her side.” You sighed as you looked around the room, slightly panicked that you still had heard nothing from her. “Can you tell her I’ll be with her soon? I need to make sure my date finds the place okay?” You told your brother as he grimaced. “Okay, it’s your funeral if she kills you.” He warned with a chuckle, weaving through the crowded room. You glanced at your phone, your lips curled in a frown as you gripped your glass. 5 more minutes and then I’m going to have to go upstairs.  

Gwen: Stiles, where are you?  

Your fingers gripped onto your phone as if it was a life line, your drink emptying as you watched the hands on the clock tick down. Literally just a text is all I need. Your stomach somersaulted as you threw your head back, finally standing from the seat you’d been in at the bar.  

Gwen: You’re really late and I can’t wait any longer, I’ll be in the main atrium for 5 minutes, after that it’s too late.  

You walked through the crowded bar, lifting your dress as you weaved between wedding goers. The air was cloying but as soon as you stood in the atrium it was like a breath of fresh air. Your fingers clung to your dress, your clutch hanging loosely from your shoulders as you walked to the main atrium the click of your heels echoing in the large room. Come on Stiles where are you? You locked and unlocked your phone, your eyes scanning the room as you leant against a pillar your breath coming in short bursts as you worried about your sister. Chewing your lips, you text Stiles for what felt like the millionth time, your fingers trembling as you hit send.  

Gwen: Stiles, you’ve got 2 minutes or I have to go upstairs, if I’m not in the atrium when you get here then you don’t need to stay.  

You sighed as you pressed send, quickly leaving your messages as you flicked to your sisters chat. 15 unread messages. You quickly read the messages your heart plummeting at your sisters texts.  

Kirstie: Gwennie, where are you? I need you up here.  

Kirstie: Please Gwennie!  

You sighed, your head hitting back against the marbled pillar, pain radiating through your head. Great, at least in the photo’s I’ll look as bad as I feel. You closed your eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath. Looks like Stiles is out of time. You pushed away from the pillar, turning to head towards the elevator, mentally preparing yourself for the wrath of your sister when you heard footsteps running towards you. “Gwen!” You heard Stiles shout as you whipped your head around a small smile on your lips. “I thought you weren’t going to come!” You almost snapped, your tone slightly more biting than you were going for. He grimaced, his hands carding through his hair. “Roscoe broke down and I had to get a cab, then I realised that I put in the wrong place-” He babbled, a downcast look in his doe eyes. “Stiles it’s fine, you just about made it on time, no need to have a full-on breakdown! Plus, who the fuck is Roscoe?” You asked, your brows knitted over your eyes as he grinned. “Roscoe is my Jeep!” You rolled your eyes as you walked off, him following suit. “You named your jeep?” You joked as he gave you a surprised look. “Well if he turns into a transformer I at least want to make sure we’re on a first name basis.” You laughed as you jabbed the button for the elevator, climbing inside before turning to Stiles once again. “Stiles, don’t be daft, you know most cars are girls.” You winked as the doors closed, leading you up to the main balcony.  

“Now where do we line up again?” Stiles turned to you after the pictures, his tie slightly crooked as you led him down multiple hallways. “We line up at the door, you don’t get stage fright do you Stiles? You know we’re second down after my brother and his wife.” Stiles looked panicked as he looked at you, his lips set in a hard line. “Nope, totally calm and collected, I sure am co-ordinated and good at walking in a straight line.” He swallowed thickly as he nodded, his brown hair flopping over his forehead. “That’s a bald-faced lie isn’t it Stiles?” You gave him a knowing look as he grinned back at you, his smile faltering as he tripped, grabbing onto you as you both toppled to the floor. “Yeah, I’m vertically challenged and I like to inspect floors on almost a minutely basis.” He nodded, as you collapsed into a fit of giggles. “I can see that, maybe we should get out the way of people and sort ourselves before we have to do the walk for real.” You laughed as Stiles stood, his hand outstretching towards you. You took it gratefully, smoothing over your dress as Stiles led you to the edge of the hallway, his back pressed against the wall. “You’re nervous, aren’t you?” You asked Stiles as you watched his eyes close, his lips parted as he let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, just a little bit, i’m not usually good with large groups of people, especially people I don’t know.” He sounded strained, his voice cracking as he opened his eyes, looking at you as he gave you a half smile. “But, I’ll be okay. We going to do this thing?” He chuckled, pushing away from the wall as he reached his hand out for you to take. “Yeah, do I look okay?” You nervously pushed your hair behind your ears as he looked over you, his eyes trailing over every inch of your skin. “You look beautiful, now let’s go walk down that aisle.”  

The wedding flashed by in the blink of an eye as you took Stiles’ hand, tears streaming down your face as your sister married the love of her life, Stiles’ fingers intertwined with yours as you walked back down the aisle, leaving the ceremony behind. “So, what now?” Stiles asked as you milled towards the reception, the crowds of people moving around you. “We go to the reception and the true fun begins.” You winked, giving him a small smile. “Is this where I die?” His brows quirked, his eyes searching your face for answers. “This is the true torture, we weren’t planning on sacrificing you to the pagan gods until later.” He faked a sigh of relief, his hand wiping over his forehead. After all the nerves that had been running through your system, you finally felt like you could relax, even though you knew that the worst was only yet to come. You held your breath as you walked into the hall, your eyes falling over every decoration as lights sparkled in your peripherals. “Whoa, this is nice.” Stiles breathed as you gave him a small smile. “Yeah, it is. Kirstie’s been planning her wedding since she was a little girl, so what you’re seeing right now? This is her dream.” You looked around the room, waving at family members as they gave you small nods. “I’ve never walked in someone’s dream before. Someone’s walked in my mind before but that’s completely different-” He tailed off, his lips pressing shut as he walked with you to your table. “Someone walked in your mind?” You asked him questioningly, your fingers coming unlaced as you sat in the chair, his body filling the space next to you. “It felt like that at least.” He chuckled, his hands running over his neck, a trait you had learnt was his nervous tick.  

“What a strange thing to say young man” You heard your grandma say as she walked to the table. Her brunette hair was wound tight against her scalp, her tiny frame almost going unnoticed in the throng of people. “Stiles, meet Margaret, my grandmother. She has the hearing of a bat.” You smiled as you grandma walked to the table, her arms outstretched as she laced them around your neck. “Gwennie, you look absolutely heart breaking. You’re not so little anymore are you?” She cooed as you shot a smile at Stiles. He supressed a laugh as your grandma pulled away. “You’re growing up so fast. Soon it’ll be your wedding, perhaps to this fine young gentleman?” She nodded towards Stiles as you supressed a laugh as he looked panic stricken. “Grandma, this is Stiles-” Your grandma had already walked around to where he sat, her arms linking around his shoulders like she had just done to you. Stiles froze, his cheeks flushing almost neon pink as he relaxed after a moment. “So, you’re my Gwennies boyfriend?” Stiles shot you a look as you panicked, your throat closing up as you shrugged your shoulders. “I am indeed, lovely to meet you Mrs-” He struggled to think of your last name, your eyes wide as his eyes darted towards you. “No need to be so formal, call me Margaret or Margie.” She smiled, her weathered face lighting up as she straightened off striding towards her seat at your table. “So Gwennie, tell me more about Stiles”  

A few hours went by as you sat and talked with Stiles, your grandma shooting questions at you from right and left. Stiles took all the questions he could, grinning and being friendly all night, which is more than what you could’ve asked of him. “Stiles if you don’t mind, I’m going to leave to the restroom and leave you in my grandma’s very capable hands.” You announced as you stood from your seat, your head spinning after one too many glasses of wine. “Take your time, me and Margie have it covered here.” He winked, your grandma smiling at you as you walked across the dance floor. Well, this is going far better than I would have expected. Sounds strange but it feels like I’ve known Stiles for far longer than just a few days. You walked from the main hall, heading to the bathroom as you thought about the man you’d left at the table. He looks really good in a suit, maybe he’d also look good without the suit. You suppressed a smile as you pushed on the door to the ladies, giving yourself a quick once over in the mirror. Over the course of the night, your lipstick had smudged some, but other than that you still looked very much the same, your cheeks maybe a tad darker than before but you knew why. Reaching into your clutch, you dug for your lipstick, leaning closer to the mirror as you touched up the lines, cleaning the outsides with the tip of your finger.  

“You getting all dolled up for your date?” You heard your sister say, her head peeking around the corner as she walked in, her long dress trailing along the floor. You smiled at her as you wrapped your arms around her, your first hug since she tied the knot. “I’m not doing it for him, I’m doing it for me.” You grinned, returning to the mirror as you fixed a knot in your long hair. “I wouldn’t blame you if you were doing it for him. If I wasn’t a married woman-” She trailed off, a giggle escaping her lips. “Kirstie! You can’t say that! You’ve been married a grand total of about 3 hours now!” You shook your head as she shrugged. “I can appreciate a good looking guy can’t I?!” She wandered next to you, fixing her hair as she turned to you. “You two look good together, the photographer showed me some of the stills and you two look so happy.” You blushed, hiding your smile as she continued. “You look like me and David when we were early days. So unsure of things but happy, I can see it in your face and the way he looks at you. You two are in it for the long haul.” Yeah, that could be so, but we’d have to be dating first, and maybe actually know each other for more than a grand total of 2 minutes. You thought to yourself as she smiled at you. “I’m so happy for you Gwennie, you deserve a guy like him.” She finished as she gave herself once last look over, before hugging you goodbye. “You need to get him onto the dance floor, maybe give him a rest from Grandma.” You laughed as she left the bathroom, the door swinging shut as you were left to your own devices.  

Maybe it could be more than just this? You sighed to yourself as you smoothed over your dress, walking from the bathroom as you returned into the main hall. “Gwennie! Glad you could join us again! Stiles was just telling me about his father, he’s a sheriff!” Your grandma exclaimed as you sat back at your seat. “-And Margaret was just telling me that Gwen isn’t your full name!” Stiles turned to you, his lips pressed firmly in a line, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Grandma, you know I hate it when you call me that!” You sighed, watching as she shrugged. “Gwendolyn, it’s your name, a lot can be told about a name!” She spoke, your name making the hairs on the back of your neck stick up. “Please grandma, just call me Gwen?” You pleaded as she nodded her head. “Okay Gwennie, it’s your choice. I’m going to go dance with the bride, give you two love birds some alone time.” She smiled as she walked from the table, her curls bouncing as she found your sister. Stiles stared into the crowd as you were finally left alone for what felt like the first time in days. “So Gwendolyn?” He turned to you, his smile finally breaking as he let out a shaky laugh. “I’m guessing your going to hit me with all the lord of the rings esque jokes you got, or maybe ask how king arthur and merlin are doing? Just like everyone else?” You sighed, your hand propping your head up as you looked at him. “Nope, I was just going to say it’s a really pretty name. Suits you, but if you prefer being called Gwen then Gwen it is. Reminds me of Gwen Stacy.” He smiled as he looked at you, his eyes softening as his mole speckled skin shone in the light.  

“Thanks Stiles, usually people just make fun of my name.” You admitted, pushing your hair behind your ear as it fell in front of your eyes. “I feel you there, obviously Stiles isn’t my given name. It’s a family nickname because no one can pronounce my real name. Hell, until I was older even I couldn’t pronounce it.” You looked at him in confusion as he twiddled his thumbs, clearly mulling something over. “I used to say my name was Mischief, because it was as close as I could get. After a while I just kind of became Stiles and everyone’s called me it ever since.” You looked at him as he smiled. “So what is it? Or would you rather not say? I understand if you want to keep it a secret, I mean I’m pretty much a stranger.” You fumbled over your words, desperately wanting to know more about the man sat in front of you. “Mieczysław” He whispered, almost too low for you to hear over the din of the other guests. “What?” You shook your head leaning closer to him, your face only inches from his as he repeated it. “Mieczysław. Some kids when I was little used to call me my coleslaw, cause they didn’t know how to say it either.” He shrugged, a sad look in his eyes. Such a strange name, for such a strange guy. “I like it, Mieczysław.” You repeated, your tongue rolling over his name, the word sticking in your mind. “I like it more now, Gwendolyn.”

Hours passed as you danced with Stiles, his hands on your lower back as you swayed to slow songs, his arms waving in the air as they played heavier songs, the crowd of wedding goers packing onto the dance floor as the night progressed. Panting out of breath you pulled Stiles from the throng of people. “How about a drink?” You breathed, your hair clinging to your back. “I don’t think so Gwen, it’s pretty late and if I drink anymore then I may not make it home. As it is I’m going to have to get a cab and it’s late.” He pouted, looking at the time on his watch. “You don’t have to go?” You spoke, his brows quirking as he looked at you in confusion. “I live on the other side of town and I definitely don’t have enough money to stay at the hotel, I don’t think they even have anyone on the front desk at this time.” He fumbled over his words, his fingers adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. “You can stay with me?” You suggested, your eyes searching for any sign that he didn’t want to. “You’re staying here?” He asked, looking towards the hallway. “Yeah, my dad got the bridal party rooms, it’s a suite so there is more than enough room for the both of us?” You spoke as he nodded. “Sure, I’ll stay with you, saves me getting a cab this late. They over charge.” He sighed, his hand pressing against your lower back once more. It didn’t feel the same as before, this time his hands were heavy, spreading warmth through your skin. “Well how about we call it a night anyway. It’s starting to get too much down here and I don’t know about you but I’m dying to eat some real food.” You nodded towards the buffet, barely touched as your stomach grumbled. “I never understood people’s love of fancy food, give me a burger over caviar any day.” He chuckled as you grabbed two flutes of champagne. “So one more drink and then we’ll order room service?” You asked as he nodded. “Yeah, room service sounds great.”  

———————————————————————————————————–

His lips were on yours before you had even hit the elevator, his hands pressing against your waist. “I’ve wanted to do this since I first met you, but I didn’t know-” He started to speak, his lips moving against yours. “Stiles, do you ever shut up?” You sighed as he pushed you back against the cool marble of the walls, the material of your dress shifting under the grip of his fingers. “Never.” He sighed as his lips founds yours, tongues rolling over lips as you melted against him, his body pressed against yours as you reached for the elevator button. His teeth caught the skin of your lips, pulling slightly as his hands slid down your body, long fingers leaving a trail of electric in your skin as you sighed, a moan trapped in your throat. “Stiles-” You breathed, your eyes fluttering closed as he kissed from your mouth, his lips trailing across the line of your jaw. Your fingers ensnared themselves in the tendrils of his hair, your nails raking across pale skin as you bucked towards him. You barely heard the click of the elevator as his lips moved across your neck, his tongue rolling over the skin as you pushed him from you. “How about we move from the hallway, don’t want to get in anyone’s way now do we?” You spoke, your words hazy as his touch left you. “Certainly not, I can’t let your family see what I’m about to do to you.” He whispered, his words blowing over you as you shivered, walking into the elevator.  

His hands coasted over the straps of your dress, nimble fingers pulling the material down your shoulders as you crashed into one another in the elevator. Your fingers found the buttons on his shirt, trembling as you undid them, his lips on your neck once more. You melted against the wall as his teeth grazed your skin, the bite of the cool metal on your bare skin. Your fingers splayed against his chest as his shirt came undone, the tie around his neck hanging loosely as you trailed your nails over his skin. Ragged moans left his mouth as you arched your back, a need pooling within you as he placed wet kisses along your collarbone. He pulled on the straps again, his grip rougher than before as he cradled you to him, his cock hard against you as you sighed. The elevator climbed higher, reaching the top floor before long. Pulling away from him, you staggered towards your door, his hands never leaving your skin as you fumbled for your key. He pressed himself against your back, fingertips kneading small circles into your hips as he pulled your hair from your neck. You bit back a moan as his tongue slid over your skin again, your hips bucking back against him as you slid the key into the lock.  

Your bodies were a flurry of movement the second the door clicked open, hands finding hands, items of clothing falling to the floor as you stumbled into the room. Your dress was almost ripped from your body as his fingers tugged at the zip on the back. “Just tear it, I won’t need it again.” You whispered as he tugged at the fabric, the scraps of it falling to the floor. A rush of cool air hit your skin as it was replaced with the warmth of his skin. You walked backwards, unsure on your footing as you stumbled in your heels. His eyes danced over your skin, his lips caught between his teeth. His usually bright eyes had darkened, his lips red as he pushed you to the bed. You lay on your back, barely propping yourself up as you looked at him. His chest was toned, scars littering his skin as he pulled the last of his shirt from his body. Years of FBI training had done wonders for his biceps, the muscles moving under the skin as he loosened of his tie, lifting it over his head as you watched on. His long fingers reached for his belt buckle, nimbly undoing the metal clasp as he kicked his trousers from his body.  

“Come here.” He demanded, his tone gravelly as it reverberated through you. You nodded, sitting up as he walked towards you, his tie wrapped around his fingers. “You trust me?” He asked, lifting your face to look at you properly. Your eyes connected as you nodded, something within you throbbing as he smiled. “Good. Now close your eyes.” You did as he asked, your lids shutting as you felt his hands on your face, the soft friction of his tie grazing your cheekbones as he tied it into your hair. It was heavy on your eyes, your vision completely obscured as you felt him push you to the bed, his fingers running over your ribs. “Can you hear me Gwen?” He asked as you nodded, a small yes leaving your lips. “Good.” He spoke as you felt his body move closer to yours, the warmth of his breath washing over your chest as he fingered at the lace of your bra. You arched off the bed as his hands wrapped around, his nimble fingers making quick work of the clasp as you collapsed again. A moan left your lips as he pulled it from you, his lips pressing against the valley of your breasts, the beginnings of stubble scratching at your sensitive skin.  

His fingers pressed against your skin, rough fingertips moving in circles as he cupped your breast in his hand, a thumb rolling over your nipple as he took the other between his lips. Your lips parted as his tongue lapped at your skin, your body arching towards him as you yearned for his touch somewhere else. Small moans left your lips as his hands snaked down your arms, pulling them towards him before he pressed your hands flush against the bed. “Can’t have you taking off that blindfold.” He smirked against your skin, his lips trailing over you as he moved down your stomach, his breath washing over every inch of you as you surged towards him. “Now I’m going to trust you, not to take that blindfold off as I take your panties off. Can I trust you?” you nodded weakly as his fingers hooked into the band of your panties, his breathing staggering as he peeled them down your legs, almost achingly slow. You bit your lip, your fingers gripping onto the duvet as you struggled not to take the blindfold off. All you wanted was to see him, to see that mop of hair between your thighs, the curve of his shoulders as he hoisted you further down the bed.  

“Good girl.” He cooed as his hands found yours again, his words reverberating through your skin. You smiled as you felt him shift beneath your legs, his hair tickling the insides of your thighs. “This is what you meant by room service right?” You stifled a laugh as he pressed his lips to your skin, his touch edging higher as you bit back a moan. You stilled as he pressed nearer to you, his breath setting fires within you as you held your breath. Neither of you moved as you anticipated his next move, your fingers carding the white sheets as his tongue ran over your clit. A moan escaped your lips as you surged, his tongue sliding through your folds as he teased your entrance. One of his hands escaped from your wrist, resting on your inner thigh as he pushed your legs up, his tongue moving expertly over your clit. Every nerve in your body was on edge as you moaned, your hips rolling against his mouth as his lips wrapped around your clit, his teeth carefully grazing the sensitive nub. Your eyes rolled behind closed lids, the thick material of the tie making it harder to move your eyes. Your head canted back against the duvet, your hair falling in your face as you shook, your legs stiffening as his hand moved from your leg.  

You could feel the edge of his nails rake across your skin, something delicious in the way he moved his fingers as he trailed over your hips. His lips moved over your pussy, his tongue spreading you as he flattened against you. Your back twinged as electric surged through your system sparks flying behind your eyes. You waited with baited breath as his hands replaced his mouth, his coarse fingertips raking over your clit as you rolled your hips against him. Fingers teased over your entrance as his lips pressed against your thigh, his fingers teasing mercilessly over you as mewls spilled from your lips. “Stiles-” You begged as he kissed higher, the muscles in your legs twitching as you struggled to anchor yourself to the bed. “Stiles-” You moaned again as you heard him chuckle, the throaty sound almost vibrating through your body. Your toes curled as he pressed his fingers into you, his long digits curling as your body sighed in relief, the fire within you climbing higher as his mouth returned. He made quick work of licking over your clit, almost dancing over you with the tip of his tongue as you gripped at the sheets, your knuckles turning white.  

You pressed against him as his fingers pistoned within you, fingers scissoring apart as he moved over you. The flames grew hotter as you pulsed, your body throbbing as air came harder to come by. Moans filled the room, his guttural and raw compared to yours of pure ecstasy as you wriggled beneath his touch. Fireworks roared in your head as you felt yourself push from the bed, your body a flurry of pleasure as you hurtled over the edge of your orgasm. Your breath hitched in your throat, a strangled cry barely making a sound as your body flooded with pleasure, the fire dampening briefly before surging again. You fell to the bed, your breath coming in short bursts as your heart slammed in your chest. Stiles’ fingers stilled briefly, his mouth leaving your pussy as he chuckled. “You sound like you want more.” His voice was honey smooth, his words falling over you as your muscles relaxed. You nodded meekly, your lips pressed together as his fingers curled once more. “If that’s what you want, then that’s what you’ll get.” You barely heard him as he pushed his fingers against a spot within you that made you see stars, your fingers loosening from the sheets. You reached out, your fingers tapping along things until you found him, his hair ensnaring in your fingers as you pulled him towards you, the embers of a flame that had not distinguished warming up as he circled your clit.  

You jerked, the area still over sensitive as his fingers sped up, pushing into you as you let moans fill the air, your heart slamming faster against your rib cage with every stroke. You didn’t take long, the combination of his lips against your clit as his fingers pushed into you had you a mess beneath him faster than you thought. Your chest heaved as you released his hair, pushing him from you as you came, your legs shutting as you cried out. Curses littered the air like a prayer as you mewled, your breaths staggered as you curled onto your side, your entire body a live wire, ready to be set off at the slightest touch. “Gwen, come here.” Stiles’ voice was soft as he pulled you up, his fingers brushing your hair back as you panted, your chest rising and falling quickly. “You don’t need the blindfold anymore, I want you to see how good I’m going to fuck you.” He loosened the ties, his fingers nimbly letting the material fall before he pulled you from the bed. Your eyes watered as they adjusted to the light, the dim room levelling off as you saw him rise from his knees. He reached out a hand to you as he spun around, pulling you so you were stood. Your legs shook at the pressure, your body weak as he sat on the edge of the bed.  

His boxers lay abandoned on the floor as he pulled you closer to him, your legs straddling his as his hands laced around your wrists, pushing your arms behind your back. Neither of you said a word as he lined himself up with your entrance, his lip caught in his teeth as he stared at the place the two of you met. You closed your eyes slowly as your hips sank down against his, his cock stretching your walls as you both fought for a breath. He paused, a shaky moan leaving his swollen lips as he bottomed out within you, his cock twitching as you wriggled against him. “Someone’s impatient.” He scolded, a lopsided smirk on his face as he lifted you slightly, your legs curling around his. “Stiles-” You whined as his lips pressed against yours, his tongue rolling over your bottom lip as he cantered upwards, his cock burying deeper within you. You caught your breath against him, your head falling to the crook of his neck, small kisses littering his mole speckled skin. His fingers danced over your arms as you clasped your hands together as he thrusted, your bodies moving in synchronicity. Choruses of moans meshed together as he groaned, pulling at the skin of your hips. You rolled against him, the coil inside you tightening with every slight brush of his hands on your body.  

You ran your tongue across the crook of his neck as he pulled and pushed you onto his cock, your walls clenching around him as you grazed your teeth against him. “You’re going to be the death of me” He whispered as he pulled you back to look at him, his hips speeding up as you locked eyes. Your eyes closed as you threw your head back, every cell in your body almost screaming as shivers ran down your spine. His dark eyes were clouded with lust, his lips pulled back in a look of concentration as he slammed into you, your body shaking as you screamed once more. You fell slack in his arms, your breathing stopped as your head spun. Stiles went quiet, his hips staggering against yours as he came, his breathing punctuated with moans as you fell against him once more. His hands pulled at your arms as he placed them around his shoulders, his hands shifting to your ass as he stood, his grip faltering slightly. He paused, taking a breath before walking to the top of the bed, placing you on the duvet, your head hitting the pillow graciously. “Well this is exactly what I meant by room service.” You chuckled, your voice cracking as you talked, his body slotting into the space next to you. “It’s exactly the room service I wanted.” He chuckled, his arm falling over your waist as you lay there in peace.  

You don’t know how long went by, the both of you just lying in peace, barely talking, the feeling of each other’s skin against your own. You were nearly asleep as you heard a slamming on the door, your reverie broken at the loud noise. You shook your head, burying deeper into Stiles’ arms as he snored, his grip tightening around your waist. You smiled as the door shook again, the knocks coming faster again. “Maybe it’s the hotel telling us we have a noise complaint.” Stiles joked, his voice thick with sleep as he moved your hair from his face. “I should really see what they want.” You sighed, leaving his warm grasp unwillingly. You stood, stretching out your limbs as you reached for Stiles’ shirt, haphazardly thrown into the corner of the room. The door rattled again as you fumbled with the buttons, your hair falling in your eyes. “One second!” You shouted, your words tinged with annoyance as you read the time on the clock. 4am. Why the fuck would they send someone up at 4am? You trudged through your suite, buttoning the last button on Stiles’ shirt that would mean you’re semi decent. You caught a glance of yourself in the mirror, purple marks on your neck, mascara smudged and your hair in knots around your face. This is going to be a bitch to cover tomorrow. You thought to yourself, a small smile forming on the corners of your lips. Worth it. The door hammered again as you swore. “I’m coming!” You reached for the door handle, pulling the door open as you blinked adjusting to the light of the hallway. “Can I help you?” You spoke dryly, your eyes coming into focus as you recognised the man in front of you.  

“Mike?”  

[lilianding3910-blog]

Ask On Your Own Are You Genuinely All Set To Take The Divorce

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[visualtaehyun]

Love Senior ep. 2 bits and bobs

Disclaimer: not a native Thai speaker, still learning 🙏

Bad girl

แย่จริง ๆ น้องคนเนี่ย /yae jing jing nong khon niia/ = Awful for real, this junior! เด็กดื้อ /dek deuu/ = Stubborn/naughty girl!

How to explain? I needed to show the difference in the Thai, even though the subs say 'Bad girl' twice, because เด็กดื้อ /dek deuu/ has romance trope connotations.

And speaking of those- just before, as Naow pets Gyoza's head, Naow calls her ไอ้ต้าว /ai dtaao/ (I just can't make out the entire sentence rip), which is slang? cutesy? for ไอ้เจ้า /ai jao/, which is a prefix I guess that's affectionately used for pets for example. If you've seen My School President, ไอ้ต้าว /ai dtaao/ is what Win calls Sound in ep. 12 - I think it was subbed as pumpkin on YouTube? 'Cutie' might be a good roundabout way to translate it.

เกียร์อยู่ที่ใคร ใจอยู่ที่เกียร์ /gear yuu thee khrai, jai yuu thee gear/ = Whoever the gear is with, the heart's with the gear. ของคนสำคัญหนอ /kaawng khon sam khan naaw/ = [It must] belong to someone important, hm? -> lit. important person, can also imply 'significant other'

Rotten dog makes its reappearance!

ไอ้นาว ทำหน้าเป็นหมาเน่าอีกแล้วนะมึง /ai Naow, tam naa bpen maa nao eek laaeo na, mueng/ = Naow, you're making that face again like you're a rotten dog, dude. หยุดมโน อย่าลงตัวเอง ไอ้หมาเน่า /yuut ma noh. yaa lohng dtua eng, ai maa nao/ -> see last week's post for details because Naow's brother Faung also called her หมาเน่า /maa nao/ (= rotten, spoiled, decayed, putrid, foul dog)

This one came out a tad bit unfortunate so I felt I needed to clarify for P'Pure's sake lmao

ใช้งานจนสตีหลุดไปแล้ว /chai ngaan john sa dtee luut bpai laaeo/ = worked her until she's out of it/lost all sense/until breaking -> ใช้งาน /chai ngaan/ = to work (sth./sb.), utilize, operate, use [for] work

This sounds less flirty in Thai lol

ตบหัวแล้วลูบหลัง /dtohp hua laaeo luup lang/ = lit. slap on the head then pat on the back; idiom for doing or saying sth. mean/hurtful then trying to console/mollify

The puppy and its mother (thanks Lada for continuing to be the icon that you are mwah!)

เห็นตามติดแกยิ่งกว่าลูกหมาไม่หย่านมแม่ซะอีก /hen dtaam dtit gae ying gwaa luuk maa mai yaa nom mae sa eek/ = Saw her following you around even more than a puppy that isn't weaned off its mother ไงแม่หมา ลูกหมาออกล่าเหยื่ออย่างเป็นทางการแหล่ะ /ngai mae maa? luuk maa aawk laa yeuua yaang bpen taang gaan lae/ = So, mother dog? The puppy's officially out to hunt for prey.

Mr. Teddy

นี่เธอกำลังงับหูเจ้า(???)อยู่นะนาว ปล่อยตุ๊กตาพี่เดี๋วนี้ /nee ter gam lang ngap huu jao ??? yuu na, Naow? bplaawy dtook ga dtaa phi diao nee/ = Are you biting ???'s ear, Naow? Let my teddy go right now!

The teddy has a name!! The prefix เจ้า /jao/ (as with Gyo's vespa เจ้าหมูแดง /jao moo daaeng/) tells me the teddy bear has a name, I just can't make it out clearly 😔

Clarification on the pronoun used here

แกเลยรู้สึกแย่กับเจ้าของเกียร์ที่ห้อยคอแกอยู่รึไง /gae loey ruu seuk yae gap jao khaawng gear thee haawy kaaw gae yuu reu ngai/ = So you feel bad about/because of the owner of the gear hanging from your neck then?

And a note re: pronouns and names

The scene in Gyoza's room where they eat together and then tease each other on the balcony is the only one in this episode where they both don't refer to Gyoza as พี่ /phi/ (refer to my post from last week for explanation)!

When Naow stays the night, she calls Gyoza พี่ /phi/ and Gyoza herself refers to herself as พี่ /phi/ as well - I only noticed her call herself เกี๊ยว /Giao/ when she says she's scared of the thunder. 🥺

[visualtaehyun]

No language notes for ep. 3 of Love Senior, just one for the ep. 4 preview!

Disclaimer: not a native Thai speaker, still learning 🙏

หมดเวลาแล้ว พี่เกี๊ยวต้องให้คำตอบนาว ตอนนี้ /moht weh laa laaeo. phi Giao dtaawng hai kham dtaawp Naow. dtaawn nee/ = Time's up. You have to give me the answer. Now.

Naow refers to herself by name, นาว /Naow/, and to Gyoza as พี่เกี๊ยว /phi Giao/ (=senior Gyo). This is Naow's usual way of talking to Gyo. That's changed for the actual question she poses because the question is a title drop!

ก็ตอบคำถามที่ว่า พี่ว้ากคะ รักหนูได้มั้ย /gaaw dtaawp kham thaam thee waa- phi waak kha, rak noo dai mai/ = Well, answer the question- Phi Wak, can you love me?

Love Senior's native title is พี่ว้ากคะ รักหนูได้มั้ย /phi waak kha, rak noo dai mai/.

-> Naow's referring to herself as หนู /noo/ here. Literally, it translates to mouse, but as a 1st person pronoun, it's used largely by 1) children and 2) young women (mostly when talking to ผู้ใหญ่ /poo yai/ = elder, senior, superior). Gyo used it, too, this episode, in her freshman flashbacks when talking back to the seniors.

-> The word that routinely gets subbed as 'head senior' is พี่ว้าก /phi waak/, sometimes เฮดว๊าก /head waak/ (though upon researching, it can be ว๊าก too, different tone, but that's irrelevant here djdshjds). It's a specific position of upperclassman in the SOTUS system at Thai unis.

SOTUS stands for Seniority, Order, Tradition, Unity, Spirit. It's a social hierarchy, a framework of rules and traditions, a self-governing support system between different-year students. It's all of that but it's also hazing rituals, pressuring and punishing juniors, and uniformity. (I'd recommend some further reading but I'm literally referring to the Thai Wikipedia article on SOTUS here as well as other Thai search results lol so that's no help to anyone reading this post 🥴)

Now, a ว๊ากเกอร์ /waak ger/ or พี่ว้าก/พี่ว๊าก /phi waak/, such as Gyo -

Kaniknan = romanization of Gyo's first name (Gyoza is her nickname) Waker = romanization for ว๊ากเกอร์ /waak ger/ aka someone who "waak's" (= scolds) #2 = the year she's in, Gyo's a sophomore

- is basically a rule-keeper in the SOTUS system. They're known to be fierce, strict, to shout or yell to maintain order during activities like ห้องเชียร์ /haawng cheer/ (= lit. cheer room, a freshman orientation activity where seniors teach them about uni, they sing cheer songs together, etc.), and to give out punishments.

Gyo, specifically, is เฮดว๊าก /head waak/ of year 2, so leader of the 2nd year Wakers. I'm not saying Gyo is the Thai college equivalent of a cop but that's very funny to me so I am kind of saying she is lol

All of this to say: if you see the subs say 'head senior', this is what they mean. And this is why Gyo speaks in her chest voice, all proper, sometimes using the very formal female 1st person pronoun ดิฉัน /di chan/, feet firmly planted and poised, when she's speaking to other students in the capacity of a Waker, a 2nd year head Waker, or a student in the SOTUS system. And this is why Gyo gets disciplined, as well, by higher-year seniors and Wakers, for failing to fulfill her duty towards keeping-in-line and teaching the juniors (and in flashbacks for talking back to seniors lol).

[visualtaehyun]

Anda and Lookkaew, the mains from Love Senior, went on a short trip to Koh Larn with their Starhunter seniors Mos and Bank (in August, apparently) and the vlog just released on MosBank's travel channel ม่องเบี้ยว (/mawng biao/, MosBank's fans romanize it as Mong Beaw)!

No subs though! A fan used to sub a lot of the videos on Mong Beaw but it seems they may have stopped doing so at some point in the several months that I haven't watched any Mong Beaw content.

So if anyone wants like?? an overview of what's happening in the vlog? or what they're talking about, I guess, you can ask me and I'll do my best to translate as much as I can understand myself. 🙏

Alternatively, I'd always advise to check Twitter for any dedicated translators for a given Koojin (คู่จิ้น /koo jin/ = ship, shipped couple) or Thai artist, as they might post translations for select snippets of this vlog! :)

[visualtaehyun]

Love Senior's started airing!!

So here I am, once again, with my usual language observations. Note: I'm going off the YT subs and shall use whatever name romanizations they use there!

Disclaimer: not a native Thai speaker, still learning 🙏

Manaow's older brother Faung's nickname for her because Siblings™

Faung เฟือง /Feuuang/ is shortened from มะเฟือง /Ma Feuuang/ = star fruit

Manaow มะนาว /Ma Nao/ = lime

( ไอ้)หมาเน่า /(ai) maa nao/ = (You) rotten dog -> as you can see from my basic-ass pronunciation guide, it sounds close to her actual name -> หมาหัวเน่า /maa huaa nao/, lit. rotten-headed dog, is an idiomatic expression for an outcast, someone who's disliked and has no friends - lol thanks P'Faung!

Gyoza's red Vespa

it's called (เจ้า)หมูแดง /(jao) moo daaeng/

เจ้า /jao/ = used affectionately as a prefix by seniors for children or juniors, as well as by owners for pets

หมูแดง /moo daaeng/ = lit. red pork; grilled marinated pork dish of Chinese origin

What to call each other

จริง ๆ ตอนเราอยู่กันสองคน นาวไม่ต้องเรียกเกี๊ยวว่าพี่ก็ได้นะ /jing jing dtaawn rao yoo gan saawng khon, Nao mai dtawng riiak Giao waa Phi gor dai na/

Gyoza, who's been calling herself พี่ /Phi/ and who Manaow has been referring to as พี่เกี๊ยว /Phi Giao/ (because she's a senior a year ahead of her), suggests that when it's just the two of them, Nao doesn't have to call her พี่ /Phi/, and starts referring to herself just by name, เกี๊ยว /Giao/ (her full name Gyoza is เกี๊ยวซ่า /Giao Saa/).

Manaow: งั้นเกี๊ยวเกิดเดือนไรอ่ะ /ngan Giao geert deuuan rai a/

So Manaow drops the พี่ /Phi/ right away and starts calling her เกี๊ยว /Giao/.

And just for completeness's sake: Manaow also refers to herself by name (นาว /Nao/) and Gyoza does so reciprocally (mostly นาว /Nao/ and sometimes มะนาว /Ma Nao/). So no pronouns, just names!

จีบ /jeep/ = pursue, court, flirt with (Funnily enough, a homonym of เกี๊ยว /Giao/, which means dumpling, is เกี้ยว /giao/, which also means to flirt, woo, etc. - I'll be waiting for this pun in a future episode lol)

Gyoza's reasoning for asking is that Manaow seems ห้าว ๆ เกินหญิง /haao haao geern ying/ = bold/daring/fierce for a woman

Kudos to Lada shamelessly flirting with Alee and calling him หนู /noo/ (= lit. mouse)!!

เดี๋ยวพี่เลี้ยงหนูนะ /diao Phi liiang Noo na/

As a 2nd person pronoun it's usually used by someone much older to affectionately refer to a child or someone younger, implying that the person referred to is cute and smol like a mouse, basically. In the same vein it can sound patronizing too, though, especially coming from a stranger or someone who isn't much older.

They're the inverse of the shy younger girl and flirty pursuing older guy trope and I love that!

Sulking~

หายงอนแล้วใช่ไหม /haai ngaawn laaeo chai mai/ = You're not sulking anymore, right?

Just in case any potential reader has never seen a Thai series before this GL: 'Ngon' and 'Ngor', as they're often romanized, are a set of behaviors that are common in close relationships. That can be familial or between friends too but it's certainly most common in a romantic context and as a romance trope.

งอน /ngawn/ = sulking, pouting, acting displeased, huffy, slighted, petulant; can be playful or serious

ง้อ /ngaaw/ = reconcile, make up with; this can be lots of things tbh, i.e. hugging, apologizing, giving sth. to show care like Manaow does here, etc.

Flirty Puns, my beloved!

กินเกี๊ยวไหม /gin giao mai/ = Wanna eat the dumpling?

GIN GIAO MAI DJSDHSDJDSH okay now that that's out of my system- As we've established, Gyoza refers to herself as เกี๊ยว /Giao/, which means dumpling. And กิน /gin/ means consume, take, exploit, it's mostly used with food and drink though, hence it generally being translated as 'eat'. So:

กินเกี๊ยวไหม /gin Giao mai/ = Wanna eat me?

Sidenote: this specific dumpling here is เกี๊ยวทอด /giao thaawt/ = fried wonton/dumpling

[visualtaehyun]

Hi ✨ chances are you're here because of one of my posts about language in Thai shows (mostly BL tbh). And since I kind of keep writing more of those, I thought I should do some better housekeeping and neatly collect them in a pinned post. So here ya go!

- all posts about language in Thai series and fandom: #local woman harps on about linguistics Thai QL fandom 101 & 102

- all other posts related to Thai language, culture, shows or artists: #bella and the blorbos (edits, gifs, memes, etc.) #local woman harps on about znn (translations, edits, etc. related to NuNew, Zee Pruk, and ZNN) #ql musings (meta, thoughts etc.) #thai - #thai language - #thai music - #linguistics

- specific posts and series tags under the cut!

-- BY SHOW

Be My Favorite

Hidden Agenda

Only Friends

Naughty Babe

Lucky My Love

Love Senior

Last Twilight

Dead Friend Forever

1000 Years Old

23.5

We Are

Love Sea

The Trainee

Jack & Joker

Apple My Love

> La Pluie - #bella watches la pluie > Cutie Pie - #bella rewatches ning hia

-- ONE-OFFS

Wedding Plan ep. 2 - Wa & Rine

Wednesday Club - Wednesday's child is full of woe | Naming conventions of Tam's yadom

Cooking Crush ep. 1 - Onion-or-kiss pun

Pit Babe ep. 13 - CharlieBabe NC

Only Boo! - pilot | official trailer | 'phi chai'

My Love Mix-Up! - re: an ask about the pronouns

Sunset x Vibes ep. 3 - re: Thai subs of the Mandarin portion translated | chronically online Pim

Star in My Mind - re: an ask about how KluenDao speak

Monster Next Door - 'khrap'

LITA - re: an ask about PrapaiSky + pronouns

-- MISC.

re: a BossNoeul clip - sugar daddy/DILF meme and song (ฟ้ารักพ่อ by Badmixy)

re: a Last Twilight post - A clownery of typos and homonyms in romanization

re: a Pavel tweet - an attempt to explain and contextualize ผัว /pua/ and เมีย /mia/

re: an ask about Cherry Magic - Khun X's twt space about the Marriage Equality lines translated

re: We Are ep. 2 - Stir-fried water spinach aka Flying Morning Glory

re: GMMTV Pride 2024 roundtable discussion (link) - พระเอก /phra ehk/ and นายเอก /naai ehk/ explained

KengNamping 5 month anniversary live - translation