#nobody ask me what was happening other than his blue undies

[bigassbowlingballhead]

Oh my god he had to strip to his underwear for a rescue

I am so calm about that ass rn

So calm

[delopsia-archive]

Rhett Abbott Masterlist (Part One)

Part Two (Warmups, edits, moodboards, and misc) Ask Archive

Fics

About Last Night ₊ ˚ ✧ You shouldn't be here; you shouldn't be beneath Rhett Abbott, shouldn't have your legs hitched over his hips, but kissing him is so natural. Easy. Like you were always meant to be wind up here, your hands in childhood best friend's hair and his disappearing beneath the shirt you so shamelessly took from his closet all those years ago. Maybe there was a truth to those undying rumors that once followed you like a plague. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Aches & Pains ₊ ˚ ✧ You might not be able to avoid the aches and pains of the world, but at least you’ve got each other. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Almost Ecstasy ₊ ˚ ✧ You’ve finally convinced your old cowboy to have sex with you. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

A Sight For Sore Eyes ₊ ˚ ✧ "We're really going to fuck here?" For a man with a history like his, Rhett sure can be fussy about location, "what if someone sees us?" AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Babydoll ₊ ˚ ✧ You don't expect him to pull his fingers out from you completely, shimmering in the light as he draws his hand from your clenched thighs. A protest is already boiling up on your tongue, but he holds up a singular finger before reaching into his coat pocket. Plastic rustles, and then...there's your vibrating plug, the bright pink one that is just a hair longer than the other ones that you own.  AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Blame Me ₊ ˚ ✧ You can't remember the last time you watched an entire family go white in the face, so pale that they match the marble columns upholding your ceiling. Their stunned silence allows you time to pay attention to what's happening between your legs. Absolutely no shame in Prince Rhett as he pushes his nose into the high slit of your dress. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Chills ₊ ˚ ✧ The poor thing has been dealt the worst of cards. Sensitive to the slightest of temperature changes, shivering the moment the temperature drops below sixty-five but breaking a sweat the second it rises over eighty. It only makes sense that he'd be born into a ranching family that relies on their sons to work out in the elements. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Come On Cowboy ₊ ˚ ✧ "Will you fuck me?" There goes your last coherent thought. "Pardon?" AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Conquer Your Demons ₊ ˚ ✧ Fuck, you hope nobody comes to check in on how this whole cleansing process is going. Because there is nothing that can possibly explain the sight of a demon on his knees, eating you out on the altar. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Dancing Beneath The Moon ₊ ˚ ✧ How is it that your heart only longs for the ghost of a cowboy? And why do you get the feeling that his heart utters the same for you? AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Drive ₊ ˚ ✧ Being wrapped in him is like being wrapped in a cloud. Fogging up your senses with his presence until you've found yourself lost in him, and it's like time stops. Just you, Rhett, and the gentle pitter-patter of his heart against your ear. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Every Storm Runs Out Of Rain ₊ ˚ ✧ It’s a cruelty you wouldn’t wish upon your worst enemy. The perpetual ache of your heart, longing for a man who was never meant to be yours. Everything about him is as if he’s made for you, and yet, your tattoos don’t match. You’re not made for each other. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Flowers In November ₊ ˚ ✧ That fateful night has cost you everything you have ever known. But it’s given you something in return. It’s given you a chance to meet a man you would never have. A blue-eyed cowboy with his three-headed mare and a heart full of more gold than his cattle could ever produce. And you wouldn’t trade it for the world. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

For What It's Worth ₊ ˚ ✧ Maybe he isn’t ready to leave Wabang. Not right now. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

How To Train Your Cowboy ₊ ˚ ✧ "It's not about that," the backs of your knees bump into your computer chair, "it's about you learning to listen." What words reside in Rhett's throat are left to die because your fingers tangle in the hair resting at the nape of his neck and tug. And he crumbles.  AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Human ₊ ˚ ✧ Because everyone knows that Rhett Abbott was born and raised to be a cowboy. To spend his life working the family ranch, pick up for his brother's slack, and, if he still had the energy after all that, make his father proud by winning the county rodeo. A man worth bearing the Abbott family name. Something to brag about during family get-togethers. All those expectations, and they forgot one simple little thing. They never raised him to be human. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

If Heaven's A Moment ₊ ˚ ✧ At one point, you suppose that you did. Marrying rich sounded like a wonderful idea when the subject was brought up ten years ago. But you just had to run right into the Abbott family’s youngest son, the one who had nothing but a black horse, a couple of flannels, and a championship rodeo buckle to his name. A new ranch hand, with his scruffy smile and the kindest hands you’ve ever known.  AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Little Wolf ₊ ˚ ✧ "I 'oughta rip those iron bars off the wall and kick your ass," growling, you turn to face him, eyes ablaze with something new. Something that only Rhett Abbott does not fear. "How am I supposed to get you out of this one?" Rhett taps on the bars with his boot, "rip these off the wall and kick my ass." AO3 ♡ Tumblr

One Day ₊ ˚ ✧ If everyone around you had any choice in the matter, that would have been your last memory of this cowboy. The one who quietly tells you that your phone is lighting up in your pocket because you're too focused on his handsome face to notice. The name of one of your friends flashes across the screen; she lives nearby, has heard that 12-gauge and that old GMC tearing down the street, and linked it to you.  AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Please [Original] ₊ ˚ ✧ It's not easy breaking Rhett down; it's not easy to dominate a man so rough at the edges, who keeps his power under an iron fist, oh so rarely yielding to another. Getting him to the point that he will squirm and beg is painstaking, but oh, when he does. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Please [Rewrite] ₊ ˚ ✧ It's not easy for you to break a man like Rhett Abbott. But oh, when you do. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Ride The Lightning ₊ ˚ ✧ What’s more fun than a post-rodeo party? Running off and having your own personal rodeo right before the storm hits. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Reeth ₊ ˚ ✧ Between his injuries and his insecurities, Rhett nearly falls apart. But you're there to put him back together again. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Sleigh Ride ₊ ˚ ✧ Rhett's fixing up the family sleigh to take you on the ride he never got to give you, but not everything goes according to plan when it's finished... AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Springsteen ₊ ˚ ✧ You know better than anyone that Rhett Abbott cannot dance. Yet, you're slipping your palm into his, letting him sweep you into a lazy spin that flares out the ends of your dress. Your silhouette picture perfect on the barn floor as the song finally starts to play. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Stellar Ride ₊ ˚ ✧ A television blares from the next room over. Maria's. So loud that it's hardly muffled, and yet you can hardly hear it. The droning of a news reporter washed out by the breathy whine of a cowboy. Your cowboy. Not Maria's. Doesn't belong to the fans who attend every rodeo and buy every object with his name printed on it. No, just yours. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Storm Warning ₊ ˚ ✧ His head swivels, looking behind himself, then beyond your head. Looking for someone. Anyone. "Here?" Shrugging your shoulders. Feigning innocence. As if you've stumbled up here by mere accident. "Worried someone could hear you, cowboy?" AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Tied To Your Body ₊ ˚ ✧ "Shame we're in public," he muses as he presses his astoundingly frigid nose into your temple, "can think of much better ways to warm ya up." You've created a monster. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

To The End Of The World ₊ ˚ ✧ For a second, you genuinely feel like he's looking at you, and then that chute door is swinging open, and the crowd starts to roar. It's something you've seen a million times before, but you can't bring yourself to look this time. You can't bear being witness to a major injury, not when the only thing you can do is leave Wabang and never look back. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Something Unholy ₊ ˚ ✧ His hands aren't big just for show; they're a fucking warning. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Stalling ₊ ˚ ✧ You’re going to be in so much trouble if someone walks in and finds out that the PBR’s best cowboy is eating you out in a bathroom stall. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Stars on the barn floor ₊ ˚ ✧ This full moon, you’re not letting Rhett spend his whole night chained up in the barn. No, tonight, you’re gonna have some fun with him. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Warmer ₊ ˚ ✧ "I hope you're happy that you've ruined my hand for me, doll." It's a blessing that there isn't a singular light on in the room because you know damn well he'd give you hell for smiling at such a statement. His problem. Your compliment.  AO3 ♡ Tumblr

What Remains of Wabang ₊ ˚ ✧ Two months after Rhett mysteriously went missing, he appears from nowhere to ask you to run away with him. You don't expect to see what havoc BY9 has wreaked upon Wabang. Nor do you expect to learn new things about your cowboy. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Whiskey Sour ₊ ˚ ✧ You feel Rhett before you see him, hot breath fanning out against the back of your neck as he looms behind you. The drag of his rough fingers against your sides is delicious, leaving goose bumps in their leisurely wake. Not desperate enough. AO3 ♡ Tumblr

Wildflowers ₊ ˚ ✧ "Rhett?" Startled dumb by his unannounced appearance, "what're you—" "—something's in them fuckin' flowers." AO3 ♡ Tumblr

[vi-sigoth]

Please rant. (I may or may not have watched it, too)

Okay so if nobody wants to read this, here’s the TL;DR of how I felt about the entire series at the close of the show:

If you do, I just:

First off, I see a lot of people bash GRRM as an author, and while I think a lot of it is warranted, a lot of it I think, is unfair. GRRM, like every single other fantasy author who’s penned anything after 1970, has to live under the massive shadow of Tolkien, which is not a very easy shadow to get away from, develop a distinctive style from, or not borrow heavily from, particularly if your flavor of fantasy is high fantasy. But despite my qualms with Martin (how have the Wildlings been separated from the rest of Westeros for 6,000-8,000 years and not developed a separate language at this point? Why is the Faith of the Seven and the Faith of the Old Gods SO fucking lazily constructed? Why can’t Martin keep his numbers straight when he talks about his battles? Why did I have to read a sex scene in which a guy who is still somehow massively obese despite living in a frozen wasteland for a year and a half fucks a girl on a ship and drinks her breastmilk? Jolkien Rolkien Tolkien would have never done this to me) I still love his writing. Because Martin has always set out to explore “the human heart at war with itself” in a fantasy setting, and despite all the problems I have with him, I think he’s done a tremendous job of it.

You see, there are SO many things I could bitch about with this show, so, so many (ask me later why I hate all the blue dresses Emilia Clarke wears) But honestly? None of them really matter as much as what I view as the Main Problem of the show, and actually, a good portion of them stem from the Main Problem. What’s the Main Problem? The Main Problem is that despite George’s pussyfooting lapsed Catholic views (which is why we don’t get, in my opinion, in-universe religions that are fleshed out very well) despite his absolute weeny “war is so mean and bad :(“ Vietnam draft dodger takes, George Raymond Richard Martin is a Romantic at heart, and he loves his readers, he loves fantasy, and he loves putting his characters through horrendous, disgusting, grimy, hopeless situations, because when they come through, beaten, nearly torn to shreds—but alive, he is right there celebrating the unbreakable endurance of the human spirit with his readers. David Benioff and D.B. Weiss are nihilists who hate their audience and who love shoving their faces into mud and filth for no reason other than they take a sick pleasure in the pain and disgust of the people who’s faces they’re shoving into mud and filth.

I don’t remember the exact quote or interview, or which of them said it, but one of the D&D’s said that they were first inspired to develop the Song of Ice and Fire book series into a show when they read the Red Wedding scene. This is already a horrendous start. They were salivating the thought of bringing a scene that was supposed to be so horrible, so disgusting and unspeakably repulsive and wrong that it reverberates around the world and even is witnessed by characters who aren’t emotionally involved nor even geographically near (recall that Danaerys has a vision of it in the House of the Undying long before it happens). But GRRM didn’t write that scene, nor any other awful scene to rub his reader’s face in misery and horror. Recall how the death of Eddard Stark is written. He suffers in a hallucinatory fever for days before his execution, agonizing about the wrong he’s committed in his life. His death is witnessed by his two daughters. From a Watsonian standpoint, our hearts are meant to break, just as Sansa and Arya’s hearts broke when they are made to look on the death of their father. From a Doyalistic standpoint, the death of Ned Stark was nearly inevitable, just as the death of Obi-Wan Kenobi and so many other mentors had to happen, because the death of the mentor is an integral part of the hero’s journey. Ned’s death sets his widow and all of his children upon their paths to their own inevitable triumphs and ends. Furthermore, in any comedy, that is, in any story that ends happily, the hero or heros must travel in gyre. That is, they must travel on a crooked, twisting path to reach the end. If they don’t endure trials before they end, there’s no catharsis for them. Othello travels in a straight line towards Desdemona to place his hands around her neck to strangle her, without stopping. Without thinking that maybe he might check to really see if she’s been unfaithful. As a rule, straight lines end in tragedy, twisted roads end in comedy. The point of what I’m trying to say is that: GRRM didn’t kill Ned Stark to be malicious or to purposely cause pain to his readers. He killed him because the plot needed it. But D&D? Dipfuck and Duckfucker killed Ned, and Ros, and Sandor Clegane, and Theon, and all the people they killed because they think it’s funny when people die and they revel in filth and misery and they hate when things are good. Look at the way GRRM writes Ned’s arrival in King’s Landing versus the way D&D write it. BookNed rides up, and is immediately summoned to the Small Council meeting. He tells the messenger to wait while he changes into nicer clothes, knowing that appearances are important, knowing full well that he’s walking into a den of vipers. ShowNed? He walks right into the Small Council meeting in his travel clothes, brusquely brushing off the messenger’s protestations that he change into something nicer in a thick Scottish accent. Why does he do this? Because Ned Stark is so stupid and so dumb and he doesn’t play the Game of Thrones.why does Show Ned Stark trust people like Maester Pycelle and Littlefinger? Well BookNed doesn’t trust Pycelle, and has no reason at all to distrust Littlefinger or any way to know that he’s going to be betrayed by him. But again, ShowNed is a fucking stupid, dumbfuck hick, and he doesn’t know how to blay the GAMBE of Thrones!!! Why does BookNed inform Cersei that he’s going to tell Robert about the incest, and give her a chance to leave? Because he’s one of the ONLY people who has a kind, honorable, and true heart, and he doesn’t t want to see a woman and children be killed. And again, he has NO possible way of knowing that Petyr Baelish is going to betray him. But ShowNed? Well he does this because he’s STUPID and he doesn’t know how to play the gAmE oF tHrOnEs and only STUPID people are nice,,,,IDIOT!!!!!and this is the problem. (Continued in reblogs)

[eisukevint]

Always You

Eisuke Ichinomiya

This one’s for you @leoamber66 - i should be ashamed of myself for taking this long but here we are! your graduation and your birthday gift. and a massive thank you to @cupidocherie for major help bec idek where i would be without her😭😭 anyways enjoyyy, i love you <3

»»»»

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

“You mean when you tripped and almost fell in front of everyone on your first day in elementary school?”

“No! oh my god, I told you to forget that!”

“Pftt, how can anyone ever forget that? I’m sure soryu and luke remember too”

“I hope they don’t haha, but really, we’ve come so far” Yuki commented, reminiscing about one certain day.

Eisuke’s POV

“So children, today a new student will be joining us. This is Yuki Freya. I hope all of you will be nice to her and welcome her warmly!” The teacher, Miss Hale as she introduced herself, addressed the class.

“Yuki, you’re going to sit with Eisuke. Please raise your hand so she can know where you are, Eisuke!” Miss Hale announced.

The clumsy girl, Yuki, made her way over to me earning several stares from both girls and boys present in the classroom.

“Hi, i’m Yuki!” She enthusiastically said extending her hand towards me.

I shook her hand, “Eisuke”

“Nice to meet you!” She said and then turned towards the teacher as she started her lesson, not giving me a chance to reply.

At least her smile is cute.

»»»»

Yuki didn’t follow me around like the other girls in my class did. Instead, she became friends with Luke and Soryu who happened to be my best friends. They seemed to like her a lot. Now that was rare.

It was P.E. and the teacher partnered me with Yuki despite the other girls begging him to partner them up with me. I didn’t complain considering she wasn’t annoying like the others.

“Are you ready?” She asked me tying up her left leg with my right one, preparing for the three legged race. Why is this even a thing? Couldn’t we just race like normal people?

“Of course I am” Eisuke Ichinomiya is always ready.

It didn’t take long for me to come off my high horse when Yuki couldn’t keep up with my fast pace and fell down, twisting her ankle.

Yuki groaned in pain and tried to get up but failed. The P.E. teacher came forth and asked me to carry her on my back to the infirmary as a punishment which was just across the field.

“But it’s not my fault that she fell!” I retorted back despite knowing it was partly my fault she fell since I was moving too fast for her.

“She was your partner Ichinomiya, it’s your responsibility.”

“Fine” I said when I realised there was no getting out if it. With that, i asked her to get on my back and carried her to the infirmary.

As the nurse tended to her injury, she turned towards me with that same cute smile “Thank you, Eisuke”

I instantly felt a stab of guilt.

“Hmph, I didn’t do it for you” I didn’t notice the blush that crept on my cheeks but I did notice the way my heart flipped. Just as she was about to say something, Soryu and Luke came looking for her.

“Are you alright?” Luke asked to which she replied with a grin and swinging her leg back and forth.

“Never better!”

Seriously how can someone be so cute.

»»»»

high school

The murderous intent was evident in my eyes as I gazed at Yuki laughing at something the principal’s cockroach son said.

In the beginning, Frank tried to befriend me but I felt something was off and eventually it became very clear to me that he only wanted me to be a handy tool in his pocket ready for emergencies, so I shook him off pretty quickly. Somehow, Frank’s always lingering around me. He’s always loved to single me out whenever I express disinterest in something, in hopes that others would join in. Instead, the girls that fawn over me often tell him to shut up and then they’re confronted by his fangirls and in the end, it’s just a massive cat fight.

He’s nothing but trouble. As the principal’s son, he’s quite popular, almost as popular as me, and he can pretty much get away with anything. Luckily for him, he’s very sly. Hiding behind his minions, he’s never once flat out done anything. Good with underhanded remarks, letting other people take all of the blame, coercing them into doing what he wants. His little groupies pay no heed to any of this, all because he’s handsome. But there’s a large group of people who don’t like him, but nobody has ever said anything straight to his face, thanks to his feared status.

There were rumours earlier this year that on Valentine’s Day, Frank asked Yuki out but she told him that she wanted to focus on school. I’m surprised Frank didn’t get angry at her and punch a wall or something. That sounds like something he would usually do. While I’m proud of Yuki for turning him down, part of me hopes that what she said was just a lie she made up so she could just get away from him. But now, Frank and Yuki are partners on this project, I’m convinced this teacher is trying to set those two up. Soryu, who was partnered with this over-zealous girl looked as if he would smash either his own head or the girl’s if she didn’t stop with her chattering. I’ve been paired up with Luke, unfortunately I’ve been neglecting our work because keeping an eye on Yuki has become too much of a priority. I hate how he gets too close to her, the way he continues to flirt with her and the smug look that’s plastered on his face when he realises that I’m watching. All Luke can do is sigh and shake his head at me.

“I’d gladly switch with Yuki if I didn’t have to put up with him, Eisuke...”

“Hey watch out, you’ll hurt yourself!” Yuki yells, pushing him away before she yelps in pain, drawing her hand back.

For a split second, it’s like I can only see red. I march right up to their desk, in close proximity to the two only to see a red mark across Yuki’s hand. It looks painful. If Frank hadn’t been so careless then Yuki wouldn’t have gotten hurt. What were you thinking!? Why do you need to care so much about everyone else!?

“Oops, I’ll take you to the infirmary.”

“No, I’ll take her.”, I sternly tell Frank. Yuki insists it’s not too big of a deal and that she’s fine.

“Hmph, alright. I’ll make it up to you another way then, Yuki.”

“You don’t need to. Stay away from my girl.” I felt Yuki tense up beside me the moment those words left my mouth. Thinking nothing of it, I took her dainty uninjured hand in my right one and pulled her along with me towards the infirmary. Yuki, being the obedient and polite girl she was followed without a hint of refusal.

Upon our arrival to the medical department of the school, the nurse immediately treated Yuki’s injury. As I gazed at the familiar scene before my eyes, a certain memory played in my head.

“What’s with you and infirmaries?” Were the words that came out of my mouth the very second the school nurse disappeared, probably went back to her office.

She whipped her head towards me, a tiny smile adorning her graceful features. Adorable giggles escaped from her mouth indicating that Yuki too was reminiscing about that particular day.

“You’re too amiable for your own good.” I chuckled, moving to sit into the chair where the nurse was not long ago and grabbing her hand with the nasty burn on it.

“How dare he ruin your precious soft skin like this” Placing a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, I held onto it as I stared deep into her gorgeous blue eyes.

“Is it true you rejected him?” She stared back, cocking her head a little bit to her left at the question, confusion etched on her face.

“On Valentine’s Day, I heard he confessed to you but you turned him down, saying you wanted to focus on your studies. Is that true?” Her face lit up upon remembrance but an almost gloomy expression took over right after.

“Ah...yes, now that you mention it” I squeezed her hand a little tighter but not tight to enough to hurt her as I waited for her to continue.

“That’s only half true though..”

What?

“I also told him I like someone else.”

Oh.

I immediately loosened my grip on her hand.

So that’s why. Heh, what were you even thinking Ichinomiya?

Yuki glanced over to me, fidgeting in her seat with nervousness.

“Won’t you ask who it is?” This time, she grabbed my hand and lightly tug on it preventing me from standing up, causing her to hiss in pain.

“Does it even matter?” I sighed, patting her hand lightly with that flicker of hope in my heart slowly diminishing. As I was about to get on my feet a second time, she said those words which haltered my every movement, completely catching me off guard. Words i’ve wanted to hear for the longest time now from a certain girl I adored more than anything.

“It’s you, Eisuke.”

Good Lord.

“It’s always been you.”

Will I survive if my heart continues to beat this fast every time i’m around her? I’ll have to ask Luke later.

“Eisuke?” Yuki peered at my astounded face snapping me out of my daze. When I look back at her, I thought I could resist just pulling her into my arms and claiming her as mine but boy, was I wrong. I immediately grabbed her chin and captured her silky lips in a somewhat soft and gentle kiss. Laying every emotion bare into our first kiss, Yuki loosely wrapped her arms around my shoulders as she kissed me back with equal passion. We parted and just sat there basking in the pleasure of being in each other’s arms until I decided to break the comfortable silence since a significant amount of time had passed and we needed to go back to the lab.

“You’re mine and I won’t allow you to leave me.” She hummed in response and with a little peck on her lips, I pulled her up with me and exited the infirmary.

Our fingers intertwined perfectly as we walked back to the class feeling oddly at peace - mind, body and soul.

»»»»

“And Soryu teased us so much when we went back to class! But no one was surprised, I mean we were kind of inseparable...” Yuki said bashfully, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. The diamond of her engagement ring caught the light of the setting sun.

“It’s because they knew you were mine.” Professing my undying love for her, I place a fierce kiss on her lips imagining a bright future with my one and only,

“Always have been and always will be.”

•••

[izzyfandoms]

Like Lipstick Stains On His Skin

SHIPS: Remile

CHARACTERS: Emile Picani, Remy Sanders

WARNING: Anxiety, references to heartbreak

GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @aj-draws @phantomofthesanderssides @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @emo-disaster @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread @mrbubbajones @glassferns @pun-master-logan @gayturtlez @k1ngtok1

Masterpost

A Series Of Soulmate AUs Masterpost

Emile Picani had been in love with his best friend for as long as he could remember.

The moment he had first laid eyes on Remy Sanders, his initial thought had been that that was the most attractive person he’d ever seen. And, after getting to know him better, Emile’s thoughts only solidified; Remy was funny and sarcastic, smarter than anyone gave him credit for, and casually flirty in a way that made Emile’s heart stop and pound and ache all at once.

And Emile’s feelings had only strengthened as they grew up together.

From awkward teenagers still figuring out their sexualities to adults with their own homes and jobs and independent lives, Remy and Emile had stayed friends through it all, sticking together like glue since they’d first met in middle school. They knew almost everything about each other, and they were best friends.

But that was just it – they were friends. Nothing more.

And Emile was... fine with that. He was fine.

He loved Remy. Loved, loved, loved Remy.

And, sure, it hurt when he was with Remy, but not really with Remy, not in the way Emile always wanted to be. It hurt to be around him and know that it would only ever be platonic, that his best friend would never love him back in quite the same he loved him.

But time spent with Remy was better than time spent with anyone or anything else. And Emile knew that Remy cared deeply for him, too.

Emile could take the heartache if it meant he never lost his best friend.

When Emile heard the knock on his front door, he immediately recognised it as Remy’s. He jumped up – perhaps a little too enthusiastically and excitedly, but the only person that could see him right now was himself, so there was nobody around to judge. He rushed over to the door and pulled it open. Remy’s eyes lit up when he saw Emile, and he grinned.

Emile would never admit aloud to the tremble of his heart in his chest at the expression on his best friend’s face, but he did immediately squish down the traitorous hope that emerged every time Remy looked at him like that. Which happened almost every time they saw each other.

“Hey, Remy! You’re here early,” Emile said.

“Hope that’s chill, babe. I was not watching the time.”

(Emile did his best to ignore the feelings that the use of the nickname ‘babe’ stirred up.)

Remy’s sunglasses were propped up on his head, as they often were, and his warm brown eyes were on display. He was wearing his signature black leather jacket, too, as he usually was, with a white crop-top – with the word ‘bitch’ across the front in block capitals – underneath, exposing his midriff.

It took effort for Emile to keep his eyes from drifting downwards.

“It’s fine, Remy,” Emile smiled, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on his best friend’s face. “You’re always welcome here, you know that.”

Remy laughed. “If you keep saying that, I’ll end up showing up here at 4am when I’m drunk.”

“Well, I would rather you came here than go somewhere else and get yourself hurt.”

“Even if that means I wake you up from whatever candy-coloured, cartoon-filled dreams you’re having?”

“Mhm!”

“Damn, gurl, you really are sweeter than sugar, huh? How the hell did someone like you end up being besties with someone like me?”

“Aww, Remy, I think you give yourself too little credit.”

Remy laughed again. “Nah, babes, I love myself. I’m just kinda an asshole sometimes.”

“Isn’t everyone sometimes?” Emile said.

“Not you, apparently. Come on, you’re basically an angel, like, 24/7 and I have legit no idea how you do it. You’ve got the patience of a saint and a smile that literally gives me toothache just looking at it. You’re downright adorable.”

Elation bubbled up in Emile’s heart, and those bubbles filled his chest and spilled over in the forms of happy giggles. He covered his smile with his hand, and practically melted on the spot at the soft, fond look that crossed Remy’s face for just a moment – almost unnoticeable, but Emile paid enough attention that he saw it – before being replaced with Remy’s usual grin.

“Do you want to come in?” Emile asked, still smiling.

“Sure.”

Emile stepped to the side, and Remy’s arm brushed against his own as he walked past him. He hoped the stuttered breath at the contact wasn’t obvious.

“I like the new tie,” Remy commented as Emile shut the door and turned to face him.

Emile perked up. “Oh, you noticed!”

“Course I did,” Remy said. “I’ve seen every tie you’ve got like a million times. I could tell that one was new basically as soon as you opened the door.”

“Aww, Remy... you’re great. The best friend a guy could have!”

Emile’s smile was soft, fond, and so, so caring, and – for just a moment – he could have sworn that Remy looked flustered to be the recipient of it: wide-eyed and as still as a statue. But then, the moment passed, and Remy’s expression smoothed over and returned to normal, and Emile was sure that he’d only imagined it.

“It’s nothing, babe,” Remy said, waving his hand dismissively. “You noticed when I got that new skirt last week, even though it’s identical to my old one-”

“Your old one had a big hole in it! The new one didn’t.”

“Yeah, so I had to get a new one ‘cos it made my ass look great and I wasn’t ‘bout to give that shit up, you know? Ooh, and I especially love it paired with those heels that get everyone looking at my legs, ‘cos that combo makes me look fab AF.” Remy paused. “You know what, I think that’s kinda beside the point. Any-gay, you noticed ‘cos you’re cool like that, so me noticing your tie is, like, nothing.”

“Aww, Remy,” Emile reached forward, and poked Remy’s arm. “It’s not nothing, most people wouldn’t even be able to tell! You’re my best friend, and it makes me really, really happy that you notice these kinds of things.”

Remy’s expression softened. “Well, then I guess it makes it pretty special then, huh?”

Emile felt like screaming. Or kissing Remy. Or kissing Remy and then screaming.

(Though, really, if Emile ever got the chance to kiss Remy, he’d be too busy savouring it to even think of doing anything else. Too busy savouring the feeling of warm lips against his own, of Remy’s gentle hand against his cheek, of a chest pressed against his own, of being so close to the one person he wanted to be close to more than anything else in the world. But he never thought he’d ever get the chance.)

Emile stumbled over his words, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other as he fiddled with his hands. He had no idea how he was supposed to respond to that, and wasn’t sure if he even could without losing control of his mouth and accidentally confessing his undying love for his best friend.

“Um...” he trailed off.

Remy laughed awkwardly, running his fingers through his hair and glancing away.

“So, uh... what did- what did your patients think of your new tie?”

“Oh!” Emile perked up again, at once both disappointed and relieved by the return to the original topic of conversation. “Yeah, two of them complimented it. And someone said the red was a nice change from the usual pastels, so I think it was a big hit!”

He smiled, and Remy immediately smiled back.

“Nice.”

“I think the pink tie’s still my favourite, though.”

“Mine, too. It’s a classic Emile colour.”

Emile laughed. “There are classic Emile colours?”

“Sure, there are! You’ve got your baby pink, baby blue and, you know,” Remy reached out, tugging gently on Emile’s cardigan sleeve. “You’ve got your cardigan-colour. I’ve, like, barely ever seen you without this thing. How many of these do you have? Like, a hundred?”

Emile giggled again, covering his mouth with his hand. “I have two. And they’re both a little different!”

“Right, right,” Remy nodded. “One’s, like, a little bigger.”

“Mhm! And this one’s a bit softer.”

Remy nodded again, slowly and with an amused tint to his smile. “So, are we gonna, like, move, or are we gonna stand in your hallway forever?”

“Oh, right!” Emile said, like he’d only just remembered that they were still stood at his front door.  

He moved past Remy, gesturing for his friend to follow as he went into the next room and sat down on the couch. Remy immediately flopped onto it beside him, getting comfortable on the soft, squishy cushions. He leant back lazily and stretched.

“Ooh,” Remy finally said, straightening up. “I bought a new lipstick yesterday!”

“Ooh, what colour?”

“It’s, like, pink. It matches the shoes I bought last week, and it makes me look killer. I’m gonna get all the guys’ eyes on me, so it sucks that I can’t wear it when I’m, like, actually looking to kiss strangers, you know?”

Emile ignored the pang of pain in his heart, and did his best to smile encouragingly.

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned,” he said. “I- I bet you look great in it. And it- it's a shame you can’t wear it when you want to.”

“Yeah, I’m kinda tempted to, you know, but, like, if I’m wearing lipstick, then I won’t know if any marks my lips make are ‘cos of my lipstick or ‘cos of soulmate shit, right?” Remy continued, gesturing vaguely with his hand. “And, like, what’s the pointing of making out with people if I can’t also know if they’re my soulmate?”

“Right.”

“So, I can only wear lipstick when I’m not looking for people to kiss. Sucks, but it’s gotta be done.”

Emile nodded slowly. Then, he paused, and his brow creased in thought.

“You don’t usually wear lipstick when you’re with me,” he said. “Even when we’re going out and it’s just us, no- no kissing strangers involved. How come?”

Remy froze in place.

“Uh...”

Emile blinked at him. He tilted his head questioningly. “Hmm?”

He could practically see the cogs turning in Remy’s head, while he searched for an answer that he obviously did not have or did not want to share. He looked... flustered, in a way that Emile had almost never seen him before – opening and closing his mouth a few times – and Emile just couldn’t seem to figure out why.

Remy and Emile just stared at each other, neither knowing quite what to say to the other. Emile was confused, not wanting to speak up at the risk of interrupting whatever Remy wanted to say. He also absolutely would not let his mind wander to the any possibilities that would fill him with hope.

A crushed hope was definitely not something Emile wanted to deal with, not right now.

Remy cleared his throat. He swallowed.

“Um- there’s...” he then huffed, looking down at his lap and running his fingers through his hair. He let out an awkward laugh, and then looked back up at Emile. “I... okay,” he sighed. “There’s something I think I should probs tell you.”

Emile stared at him, blinking. “What is it?” He asked.

“It, uh...” Remy sighed again. “I have no idea how you’d react to this. The thing I want to tell you... it could probs mess up our friendship.”

“Remy...” Emile said softly. “You’re my best friend. You can tell me anything, and I promise you this won’t mess anything up, okay?”

“You don’t even know what I’m about to say.”

“I don’t need to. I know you.” Emile leant forward slightly, giving Remy his best attempt at a soft, reassuring smile.

Remy stared at Emile for a second. Then he laughed again, a strange mix of awkwardness and nervousness and with a hint of slight joy, too – with a confusing, even a little alarming, effect. His eyes never left Emile’s smile.

“Jeez, babe. How are you making this so much harder but so much easier at, like, the same time?”

Emile blinked. “Um... is that good?”

“Dunno. But...” Remy took a deep breath. He clenched his hands into fists, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before he turned back to Emile. “Okay... wow, I’ve wanted to tell you this for forever, but, like, fuck, this is terrifying.”

Emile’s expression creased with concern. He reached forward, looking him over worriedly, and rested his hand on his best friend’s shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.

“Remy, are you okay? You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” he frowned slightly.

“No, I- I want to tell you. God, you have no idea how many times I’ve thought about telling you about my feelings.”

Feelings. Feelings, feelings, feelings.

Did that mean what Emile thought it meant?

The hope rose up, though he tried so hard to squash it down, but it was like trying to fit something large in a container too small and he could hardly keep it from filling up and overwhelming him. His breath stuttered, and he was sure he tensed up and froze in place for a moment, before he finally regained his composure and physically relaxed.

“Feelings?” He asked, in a voice slightly more strangled than before. “What feelings?”

Remy let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, that’s- that’s what I’ve gotta talk to you about. My- my feelings... for you.” He took another deep breath. “I... I love you, Em.”

“I love you, too,” Emile answered back immediately. “Haven’t we said this before?”

They had. The two best friends had been friends for so long: exchanging ‘I love you’s was practically part of their routine, by now.

But it had always been platonic, at least from Remy’s side.

Right?

“We- we have...” Remy said slowly. “But that’s not what I meant. I love you. Like, love love. Like the head over heels in love kind. The- the I can never stop thinking ‘bout you kind. The, fuck, you’re so gorgeous kind. The kind that means I’m, like, basically always thinking about you and about kissing you and about how, wow, you’re- you’re just amazing. I mean, damn, I know last week when I told you that you’re my favourite person, I kinda said it like a joke, but I meant it. I like really, really meant it.”

When Remy realised that he was rambling, he clamped his hand over his mouth, like it was the only way to get the words – the pretty, pretty words that had set Emile’s heart aflutter – to stop tumbling out.

Emile was frozen.

He stared, wide-eyed at his best friend.

“Oh,” was the only thing he could say, in a strangled voice.

He was sure that his face was already bright red.

“Great.” Remy sighed, removing his palm from his mouth and burying his face in his hands. “I’ve really fucked this up, haven’t I?” He mumbled just loud enough to be audible. “I- I know you don’t feel the same way, babe, and it’s fine. It’s totally, totally fine. I’m happy just being friends with you, ‘kay? You- you don’t have to return anything. It’s- it’s whatever. It’s chill.”

Emile’s brain had broken. He could hardly think anything other than the words ‘Remy’ and ‘love’ just over and over on repeat.

Instead of saying anything in response to that – as he wasn’t even sure if he could – he just suddenly burst into nervous, delighted laugher. Emile was sure he sounded like he was crazy, especially when Remy turned to him with a bewildered expression.

“Did- did you really mean that?” Emile asked when he could finally collect his thoughts enough to speak, which took slightly longer than he would have liked it to.

Remy blinked. Then, his expression softened.

“Of course, I did,” he said. “I’d never lie to you about something like this, Em.”

“So, you... you really mean it?” Emile asked hopefully.

“Yeah. Yeah, I did,” Remy said. He hesitated for a moment, before nervously adding: “Do you- I mean, is it-”

“I love you, too.”

There was a beat.

Remy stared back at him, wide-eyed. The moment of silence was somehow simultaneously nerve-racking and also soft and so, so exciting, because, oh my gosh, Remy loved him. Remy loved him, he loved him, he loved him!

Love! Love! Love!

And, oh, heavens above, Emile was about to start wiggling excitedly because, gosh, he really, really just had to kiss Remy, right now. And maybe – maybe, maybe, maybe – Remy would say yes if he asked.

Emile let out another giggle, covering his mouth with his hand.

“You... you do?” Remy asked, eyes wide and hopeful, and Emile was suddenly glad that the sunglasses were propped up on his head, as his expression was always much easier to read that way.

“Yeah,” Emile responded, equally soft. “I really, really do.”

“Wow. Just- just wow.”

Emile reached forward, impulsively cupping Remy’s cheek with his hand, and Remy froze. His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

“Oh, gosh- sorry,” Emile apologised. “I should’ve asked-”

He moved to take his hand away, but was stopped by Remy covering Emile’s hand with his own.

“You’re good- you're- yes. Yes.”

And, well, that was exactly the answer that Emile had wanted to hear.

He leant forward, and finally – finally! – did the thing he’d most wanted to do for years. Years. Since the moment he’d first laid eyes on Remy, he’d thought about it.

He kissed Remy.

Softly. Carefully. Holding Remy’s face so delicately like he was holding something precious.

And the way Remy was kissing him back...

Emile had seen Remy kiss people before – strangers, friends – and he’d always kissed them like he was doing it for fun, not love. He’d never seen Remy kiss anyone as gently as Remy was kissing him, right now.

Bubbles of delight and fireworks of excitement were going off in Emile’s heart and his mind.

He sighed happily into the kiss, and he could suddenly feel Remy smile against his lips.

Emile broke the kiss with another delighted giggle and Remy couldn’t help but just start laughing with him, too. And, of course, that just made Emile’s giggles louder and more enthusiastic.

He was so focused on the laughing and the delighted feeling in his chest from the fact that he had just kissed Remy, that Emile didn’t immediately notice that Remy’s lips were suddenly pink – a light, pastel pink that certainly hadn’t been there before.

And, in fact, it was Remy who halted the laughter first, by freezing in place and staring – yet again wide-eyed – at Emile’s own lips.

Emile paused, and tilted his head in confusion.

“Remy?”

Remy opened and closed his mouth a few times, never taking his eyes off of Emile’s lips.

“Em... your- your lips.”

Emile blinked. He reached a hand up to his own lips, and swiped a finger across them. He then looked back down at his hand, and found nothing – no blood, no anything.

He paused, and then turned his head to look at the mirror that hung on an opposite wall.

His eyes landed on his reflection, and he finally noticed that there was a smear of shiny silver across his lips that definitely, definitely hadn’t been there before.

Emile sucked in a breath as Remy turned his head to look into the mirror, and he realised that Remy’s lips were now a lipstick-like pink, when he certainly hadn’t been wearing any just before the pair had kissed.

“We’re-” Remy started.

“Oh,” Emile breathed.

“Oh,” Remy echoed.

They turned their heads to stare at each other, equally wide-eyed and shocked and excited.

Soulmates.

They were soulmates.

And then Remy surged forward, and kissed Emile again.

[amanda-glassen]

Jerena honeymoon? 😏

I know you wanted smut but this is pure fluff and I apologize hahaha. Also this was supposed to be a drabble but I think it's 3000 words. Sorryyyyy.

Serena hated lingerie. She hated the complicated straps and clasps and the way the material felt against her skin. Most importantly, she hated the way she looked in it. She felt it didn’t flatter her the way it did the curvier, well-endowed women in movies and on TV. It made her feel too skinny and like she was lacking, but it was the first night of their honeymoon and Serena wanted to wear something special for her new wife. She put on a pair of cheeky white panties with a lace ruffle trim that she special-ordered with ‘Mrs. Castillo’ printed on the front in baby blue lettering. She touched up her hair and makeup, even if she knew Jamie wouldn’t mind that a few strands of hair were out of place or that her mascara was slightly smudged, but the more she fussed over her makeup, the more she realized she was stalling.

“Babe, are you okay?” She heard Jamie ask from their bed.

“I’m fine,” Serena responded although she was feeling anything but fine. “I’ll be right out.” She’s my wife and she loves me. Everything is going to be okay. This is nothing we haven’t done dozens of times before. But it was their first time as a married couple and Serena felt she had to make everything perfect for Jamie. Or maybe I should just be myself.

It was Halloween night and Serena had packed her pair of Freddy Krueger gloves that she usually wore when she took Olivia trick-or-treating. She opened the bathroom door and stuck her hand out so she could tap on the doorframe with the fake blades on her glove.

“Serena Benson!” Jamie shouted. “You scared the hell out of me. How is it that we’ve only been married 30 hours and I already want a divorce?”

Serena tapped the doorframe one more time before peeking her head out. “I’m sorry, but Serena Benson doesn’t exist anymore. You must be mistaken.”

“Babe, come here,” Jamie urged. “I wanna lie down with my wife.” Lie down. She thinks she’s slick.

Serena stood next to their bed, her hands covering her chest. “I’m ready to...lie down.”

“I’ve never been this over you,” Jamie grabbed her and pulled her onto the bed, eliciting a squeal from Serena. “Babe, take those gloves off.”

“I was going to and then you pulled me on the bed.” Serena took off the gloves and tossed them aside.

When Jamie started to kiss her, Serena felt as if her mind was elsewhere and without realizing it, she had started to pull away. “Do you want to stop?” Jamie asked. “I know it’s our honeymoon, but I’m just as happy holding you or hanging out with you.”

Serena captured her lips in a kiss. “No, no, I want to. I just feel like my mind isn’t here. I’m thinking about Ollie. This is our favorite holiday. She’s twelve and it’s her last kid Halloween, you know? I take her trick-or-treating every year with Elliot and her other friends. I even took her last year before I went over to your house. Next Halloween, she’ll be a teenager, and I feel like I missed my last shot. I’m just glad Mr. and Mrs. Cabot let Alex stay with her in LA. My heart and my mind are both here with you and over there with her. For the past twelve years, I’ve just been a mom and now I’m a mom and a wife and I have to learn how to balance the two.”

“Serena, look at me,” Jamie cupped her face in her hands. “Being my wife doesn’t mean you ever have to take time away from being Ollie’s mom. The three of us are a family. We’re a new family, but we’re going to make it work. Like with any family, there’s going to be a lot of trial and error, but I promise to never make you feel as if you have to choose between me and Ollie. Why don’t we call her right now and see how her Halloween is going?”

Serena immediately grabbed her phone from on top of the nightstand. It rang only one time before she heard her overly excited daughter on the other end. “Hi, Mom! I miss you!”

“Hi, Olliegator. I miss you too. How’s the haul this year?”

“Not as good as Alex’s neighborhood, but Lexie and Kyle helped us salvage the night,” Olivia responded. “Your candy map is a bust, Mom. Half of the houses on there don’t know the spirit of Halloween.”

The candy map in question is a map Serena created of the houses in Beverly Hills that gave out the best candy, had the scariest haunted houses, and the best decorations. “Ollie, I made that map in 1998. It’s not really relevant anymore.”

“See, that’s what I thought at first,” Olivia responded. “But Alex and I were just too taken in by the retro ‘90s charm. So, Mom, tell me about this cabin in the woods. Don’t most people honeymoon in Hawaii or Cabo or the Bahamas?”

“Too ordinary,” Serena responded. She knew Olivia would think it was because she wanted to be out in the woods on Halloween, but the real reason Serena wanted a honeymoon in a cabin away from everyone was because she wanted an entire week of being shut-in with Jamie with nobody else around them. “I’ll give you the grand tour of the cabin and the lake tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I think that would have been ordinary, too,” she could hear her daughter smiling through the phone. “Just remember if you find a creepy cellar, don’t go in. Also, if you meet an old man at a store or gas station that looks abandoned, heed his warnings and listen to his tales of forgotten lore.”

“Of course, Olliegator,” Serena laughed. “Lexie told me she’s taking you and Alex on a Haunted Hollywood tour. Remember, after coming home from those places－”

“When in doubt, sage it out,” Olivia recited the advice she had heard countless times. “We’re gonna leave now. I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too, Ollie Koalie.”

Serena felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of her shoulders when she hung up the phone. Her Ollie was having fun with her aunt and uncle and Alex. Olivia was going to be okay, just like she was going to be okay.

“Feel better?” Jamie asked. “Is our Ollie okay?”

“She’s okay,” Serena responded. “I think I am, too.”

Serena thought back to their first time last Halloween. It was raw and animalistic, the result of six months of pent-up sexual tension between the two of them. Jamie had her against the wall, on her back, on all fours, and on her knees. But none of that felt right for their first time as a married couple.

Her wife was ready for her as was evident by the bulge in her boxer brief harness that Serena was able to feel between her legs now that Jamie was on top of her. Jamie was playfully nibbling on her neck, putting her at ease. The deeper they got into their relationship, the more loving and even playful sex had become between the two of them. The passion was there, the attraction was there, but Serena felt as if what they did was no longer performative. They could be themselves and focus on each other instead of focusing on an image.

Jamie propped herself up on her elbows, which was one of Serena’s favorite positions for her to be in so she could feel more skin-to-skin contact and nearly the full weight of Jamie’s body on her. She looked down at Serena before leaning in to kiss her. “I love you so much,” she said in a tone that Serena found reassuring. “If you ever want me to stop anything I’m doing, just tell me.” But she didn’t have to tell her. Sometimes she didn’t have the nerve to tell her and Jamie could just see it in her eyes. Her wife could read her better than anyone.

Jamie slowly kissed her way down her body, stopping when she reached her white panties with ‘Mrs. Castillo’ printed on them. “Have I ever told you that my name looks good on you?”

“Several times,” Serena responded. “And it makes me roll my eyes every time you say it.”

Serena’s legs were spread and bent at the knee, giving Jamie access to kiss her on her inner thighs. “I guess I can’t say it anymore because it’s our name now and not just mine. I’m also sorry I didn’t notice these earlier, but when your wife comes out with Freddy Krueger gloves covering her breasts, your eyes just shift to that instead.” Serena felt Jamie tug at the waistband of her undies and slide them off. “As good as they look on you, you don’t need these right now.”

When Jamie flung them to the side, Serena was reminded of an incident that happened a few weeks after their first time. “Do you remember that time you flung my underwear and we couldn’t find it?”

“And my roommate found it the next morning?” Jamie added. “Yeah, how could I forget that?”

“But it was nothing even remotely sexy like I wore the first couple of times,” Serena laughed. “They were my cotton boybriefs with Rainbow Brite and Starlite on them. In my defense, I didn’t know I was getting laid that night. When you said, ‘Serena, come hang out,’ I thought we were actually going to hang out like you hang out with the guys.”

“That explains the hoodie and jeans you wore,” Jamie quipped. “I tried to be good, kind of like I’m trying right now, but my focus is on my favorite freckle of yours.”

Serena remembered the first time Jamie discovered her favorite freckle, one located near her clit that immediately became Jamie’s favorite spot to kiss like she was in that moment. The back and forth and casual banter had eased her nervousness and, although that banter had stopped and she was open and physically vulnerable, her nervousness was still gone and she was able to enjoy every movement of her wife’s tongue.

“I bought you something,” Jamie said, picking her head up and wiping Serena’s wetness from her mouth.

“Later,” Serena insisted, feeling slightly frustrated with her wife.

“Trust me, you’ll want this now.” Her gift was a vibrator that nestled comfortably over Serena’s clit. “Just a little helper because I can’t touch you where I want to when I’m on top.” Jamie used the remote to turn it on one of the lower settings.

Serena pulled Jamie close so she could kiss her, the feeling of the vibrator on her clit and the taste of herself on Jamie’s tongue sending her into overdrive. When Jamie turned up the intensity of the vibrator, she couldn’t help moaning into her wife’s mouth.

“Spread your legs, baby,” Jamie insisted. Serena felt her wife enter her first with one finger before slowly interesting another when she felt Serena had adjusted. She was tight, she knew she was. She always clenched her muscles when Jamie first entered her, but the more she pumped her fingers in and out of her, the more relaxed she became. She could hear how wet she was and she reveled in the feeling of having Jamie inside of her －the first, last, and only woman to be so intimate with her.

“You’re so wet, baby,” Jamie told her as she increased the speed that she was pumping her fingers in and out of her. Serena knew what Jamie wanted. She wanted her cock buried deep inside her. She knew Jamie wanted to fuck her hard and rough; she wanted to claim her.

“Jay,” Serena moaned. She couldn’t get the words out but Jamie knew exactly what she needed.

Serena grabbed the warming lubricant from on top of the nightstand and rubbed it on Jamie’s clit, the feeling of Jamie’s wetness making her throb even more. The warming lubricant had been Serena’s idea the first time they went toy shopping together. It was meant to heighten the sensation for Jamie and make her feel like she was actually inside Serena when the base of the toy rubbed against her clit.

Jamie positioned herself in between Serena’s legs, teasing her entrance as she turned up the intensity of the vibrator enough to make Serena moan even louder. “Jamie, fuck…”

“Is that an order?” Jamie asked and then realized Serena was less than pleased with her question. She entered Serena with just the tip and slowly went deeper, allowing Serena to adjust to being so filled.

“Come here. I want to look into your eyes.”

When she knew Serena was ready, Jamie began to thrust deep and hard into her. She had once wanted soft and sensual but Jamie had awakened that need inside of her. “You look so hot when you’re being fucked, Ser.” She knew the deeper Jamie went, the more she could feel the base press against her clit, so Serena wrapped her legs around her wife’s waist to make her go deeper. “You feel so good.”

With Jamie now propped up on her elbows, Serena ran her fingers down her back. Her caresses were gentle until she felt her wife fuck her harder and faster. Her nails dug into the skin on Jamie’s back and she felt herself tighten around her cock. “Jamie, keep fucking me, baby. Don’t stop.”

She felt the toy rubbing against her g spot, the vibrator pulsating on her clit, and the sound of her wife moaning in her ear. One more thrust as Jamie sucked on her neck proved to be her undoing with Jamie’s orgasm following just a few seconds behind her.

“I love you,” Serena told her as Jamie nuzzled into her neck. “I’ve never felt so connected to anyone before.”

“I’m literally still inside you,” Jamie teased. “We’re very connected right now.”

Serena playfully smacked her arm. “Now it’s my turn to be done with you.”

“You can’t be,” Jamie responded. “You’re stuck with me for the next 50 or 60 years and I couldn’t be happier about that. I love you, Serena Castillo. One thing, though…”

“Hmm?”

“With the way you were clawing at my back, I’m really grateful you took off your Freddy Krueger gloves.”

[kimistorm]

District 9 (Stray Kids x Reader)

Fly Away my Love: Chapter 3

Fandom: Stray Kids

Pairing: OT8 x GN!reader (Please let me know if I accidentally slip up!)

Warnings: violence

Masterlist

“(s/n)? (s/n)!”

You felt someone shake your shoulder and you slapped them off, screaming, “I didn’t kill her!”

◈◈◈

“We’re doing it tonight.” You looked up at Ina who had taken a seat across from you with a tray of food in her hands.

Your eyes widened in surprise and you nearly choked on the viscous gray soup, “already?” you asked as you stared at her in shock, “isn’t it a bit early?”

She didn’t look at you but instead poked at the poor excuse for food that was on her plate, “something’s happening.”

“What is it?” you demanded as you half stood up to try and get closer to her.

Her dark eyes flicked to the side to look at the closest guard, “not so loud.” You felt guilt ricochet through your body and you sat back down, hoping that nobody saw your little outburst. “Trust me on this.”

She finally met eyes with you and you felt your gaze soften as you looked at the brown haired girl in front of you, the white streaks making her look older than she actually was, “I’ll always trust you. I promise.”

She flinched and looked away from you, “don’t say that.”

You couldn’t help but frown at her, she helped you through so much, why was she so against your trust? You genuinely had undying trust in her, she was able to get you out of hairy situations before, and you probably wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for her, so why wouldn’t she let you try and repay it? “But it’s true,” you protested, “I would die for you.”

She screwed her eyes shut, “please don’t say that.” Her voice sounded so pained and it hurt you as well. Who hurt her before so she was like this? “You don’t know what’s going to happen tonight.”

“But neither do you.” You couldn’t help the retort and your sharp glare, it was frustrating how she was still pushing you away, even after everything you’ve gone through together. She was always so independent and you wished you could help take off some of her stress.

She shook her head harshly, as if to clear some thoughts from her head, “if you’re going to promise me something, promise me this.” She looked up to meet your eyes and you could’ve sworn there were silver swirls in the pools of chocolatey brown, “that you will get out of here tonight by any means necessary.”

You paused at her sudden change in atmosphere, and felt yourself cool down. You nodded, you would fight hard to get both of you out tonight, even if that meant punching some people down (not that you’d regret it, they deserved it), “I promise.”

She let out a breath and closed her eyes, when she opened them up again, she gave you a soft smile, “thank you.”

◈◈◈

You nervously fiddled with the keycard Ina had slipped into your hand earlier. You were laying on the lumpy mattress with a thin white sheet over you as a blanket, pretending to be asleep. You heard footsteps from one of the guards who was doing his rounds, and you stilled your fidgeting. You took deep, long breaths to further convince them that you were asleep. It worried you how the footsteps kept on starting and stopping, almost as if the guard was taking a moment to stare into the rooms. You tried to calm the shiver that ran down your spine. You had to be still.

You could hear the footsteps coming closer and closer, and an icy feeling of fear doused your body when you heard the footsteps stop right in front of your room. You could almost feel the heat of the guard’s gaze, and then you heard the slight sound of metal sliding against metal. You desperately wanted to see what was happening, and fought to keep your eyes from opening or screwing shut, making a dead giveaway that you were still awake. There was a soft click, as if the lock on your door had been undone, and then the footsteps continued away.

You waited until you heard the sound of the footsteps disappearing and a door closing, meaning the guard left the wing of rooms you were in. You carefully opened your eyes, and seeing nobody through your window, slowly eased out of the bed. You were silent as you climbed out, careful to not make a sound, and barely pushed on the door. To your surprise, it eased open. This had to be Ina’s doing, you had no idea how she did it, but it had to be.

Looking both ways and seeing the pristine halls dark and quiet, you eased yourself out of the door and shut it behind you, wincing as it made a click as it latched shut. You silently made your way to the end of the hall, crouching so your head wouldn’t be seen through any of the windows to the rooms. It would’ve been bad if someone saw you sneaking out.

You made it to the end of the hall and pulled at the door, slightly disappointed to find it locked tight. You remembered the key card that was clutched in your other hand, and pressed it against the pad next to the door. The red light turned green and the door clicked, signaling it was unlocked. You bit your cheek at the noise that seemed to be deafening in the silence, but pulled open the door and snuck out before anyone noticed. You let it shut softly behind you and looked around. The hall was bathed in an eerie dark blue, but it was silent.

Trying to remain as cat-like as possible, you made your way to your rendezvous point in the cafeteria. When you arrived at the room, you found the door locked, but with a press of the key card, you managed to get in. You closed the door behind you and looked around. Like the rest of the building, it was cold and silent. It was strange to see the normally crowded room devoid of people. The tables and chairs were still up and cast large shadows throughout the room. The window to the kitchen was shuttered closed, and the stacks of trays were filled and piled high, ready for the next day.

There was a light tap on the window to the cafeteria and you nearly jumped out of your skin as you looked to the sound, a hand clasped to your mouth in case you screamed, but to your relief, it was just Ina. You hurried to open the door for her and she snuck in, letting the door lock behind her. “I’m glad you got here safe.” She whispered as she gave you a hug.

“How did you do it?” you asked, you were still in awe at how she was able to get you a key card and get the guard to unlock your room.

“I’ll explain later,” was her hushed response as she made her way to the door leading to the kitchen. She pointed to the pad next to the door, “try it.” With a nod, you pressed the card against the pad and the blinking red light turned green. Ina turned the handle on the door and pushed it open carefully. Seeing nobody there, she hurried in completely and you followed, making sure to close the door behind you.

The dark room was filled with long tables for preparing food, and large appliances of all sorts lined the walls. Ina paid no attention to the contents of the kitchen as she made a beeline to one of the doors. There was a window in the top, very similar to the one that was on the door to the cafeteria, and you let out a gasp as you saw it lead outside. “He was right!” Ina breathed happily as she pushed open the door.

The door clicked and swung open, but the breath of freedom was too good to be true as an alarm started blaring. You froze and watched Ina’s mouth drop in horror, clearly whoever ‘he’ was forgot to mention this would happen. Ina blinked and somehow snapped out of her stupor, grabbing your own hand and rushing outside.

You stumbled at the sudden jerk and you were moments away from crashing face first onto the ground, Ina’s firm grip on your wrist the only thing keeping you from falling, though you were scarily close. Outside the sky was dark, but bright spotlights were dancing along the ground, clearly searching for the two of you.

Your feet made loud slaps against the concrete, but the blaring sirens drowned out the sounds of your footsteps. You looked around, looking for your escape route. Your eyes followed the multiple rows of fences lining the complex. Rings of barbed wire perched menacingly on the top, if you tried to climb that, you’d be caught in no time, and who knows, maybe it was electrically charged as well.

Ina kept on running and pulling you with her. You watched as her dark hair whipped back and forth, her eyes desperately searching for a way out. You felt a cold pit of dread grow in your stomach, she didn’t know what to do from here. Your eyes widened as you watched a spotlight sweep closer and closer to where the two of you were, and gave a large tug on her as you dragged the two of you to the side. She let out a yelp and the two of you fell into a heap, but to your relief, the spotlight swept right past the spot where you were moments before. Your sudden movement wasn’t in vain.

You pulled the two of you back to your feet, and thought to look behind you to see if you were being pursued. Your heart lurched into your throat as you saw people exit out of the door the two of you had escaped out of. “Keep moving!” Ina’s voice shouted as she pushed you forward.

“I’ll fly us out!” you told her and started to call for your wings.

“No!” she shouted and punched your arm, you gasped in shock and felt the magic that was gathering at your back dissipate, “not until we get to the fence.” She pointed to the fence closest to the two of you, “you’ll gather too much attention.” You gestured at the group of people that were behind you, already breathing too hard to talk from running as fast as you could. Even though the sky was dark, the complex was lit up with lights so people working could see, and that meant the two of you were not subtle. They could obviously see the two of you running. “We don’t want more.” She gasped out, also clearly tired from the sudden exertion, but both of you knew stopping was not an option.

There was a bang and a cry behind you. You nearly screamed along as you saw Ina stumble, she was obviously hit. You grabbed her hand and pulled her towards you, so you could help support her as the two of you ran. You focused on the area of the fence she had pointed to, you just needed to get there and you would be free.

There was another bang, another scream from Ina, and she stumbled to the ground. She pushed for you to keep going, but you kept on trying to drag her along. You focused on your magic and summoned your wings. “Don’t wait for me!” Ina yelled as she tried to push you to keep moving without her. Your concentration was broken once again and the soft white-(favorite color) glow disappeared from your back. “Just run and get out of here!”

“I can’t leave you behind!” you told her and pulled her to her feet so the two of you could take shaky steps toward the fence. You could hear Ina’s labored breaths but you kept on pushing, trying to drag her along.

“They’re getting closer,” she gasped out and you pushed yourself to go even faster, but Ina kept on tripping over her feet and you could hardly hold her weight. “Just let me go.”

You gritted your teeth, “no. You’re crazy if you think I’m just going to leave you.” You hoisted her onto your back, giving up on trying to drag her side by side, and pushed yourself forward.

“Please,” you heard her quiet voice next to your ear, and she sounded so broken. “Save yourself.”

“Stop it!” you shouted back at her, your eyes narrowing as you somehow found new energy to keep on moving and began half-running at a brisker pace. You weren’t sure how you were going to summon your wings with her on your back, but you’d figure that out when you got to the fence.

You heard another pained scream and Ina’s sudden movement from the pain caused her to slip off your back. You grasped for her and looked behind to see her fallen on the ground, curled up in pain. You rushed to her side, determined to get the two of you to safety.

Her dark eyes were filled with tears as she told you, “any means necessary.” Your heart sank as you thought about what she said, you thought she meant using force to get out, not leaving her behind. “You promised me!” and her eyes seemed to glow a light purple before you felt some other force pull you away from her. You tried to fight it and fight to her side. You needed to rescue her as well! She was going to die for you and this was not how you imagined the night would go. You wanted to get both of you out. But despite your struggles, it seemed like someone else was controlling your body as you ran away from your only friend.

You watched in horror as the guards caught up to her and she was dragged back, her head hanging limp. Your wings were called into existence on your back. A soft white-(f/c) glow put a target on your back as streams of pixeled light descended from the sky and pieced your wings together. You felt the slight weight of your wings fall into place, and without waiting you took off into the air. Your wings propelling you with forceful bursts above and past the fence keeping you in.

But as you were flying away from the facility known as District 9, some unknown force keeping you from turning back to rescue your friend, a thought ricocheted through your mind. She lied to you.

AN: I am still losing my mind over purple-haired Bang Chan. He looked so good with it!! If anyone ever wants to talk about Stray Kids with me, I'd love to chat!

Taglist: @elizabeth11moreno @atlantis-atlas

[inspired-by-the-music]

For You

Chapter 7: Love

Taglist: @jineunwootrash​

If you would like to be added to the taglist of any of these blog’s works, please ask!

Laying with Taemin should have been uncomfortable because a) I always slept alone, b) I had never been so (willfully) close to another person, and c) we hadn’t known each other long enough to justify my wish to stay so close forever.

When I pointed out in a whisper that we had only shared our first genuine conversation under the moon a few nights ago, I saw the outline of Taemin’s frown in the dark. His voice created small vibrations in his chest (where my head laid over his sky blue pajama shirt) when he asked, “Do you think I’ll have to love you for years before my feelings count?” 

As evidenced by the ragged breath that fell from his mouth, I hurt Taemin’s feelings without even trying. All that kept me from apologizing immediately was the fear that whatever I said might deepen his frown; so, instead of speaking, I felt around for his hand, pressed my freezing palm against his— warm— and threaded our fingers. 

“I really want to know what you think, Lei.” He gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. 

What did I think? 

People rarely asked me, yet I tended to overthink my position on a given issue until I had exhausted every possible opinion. Maybe I was preparing for the occasion that never came— when somebody other than Lucas may value my outlook— until Taemin decided to wear my ribbon. 

Although I had thought of little other than Taemin since that night in the garden— or maybe it started that night by the lake— I had no concrete thoughts. That’s why I stuttered, “I— I don’t know. I want you to love me or like me—” 

Taemin said, “I do,” and I imagine that should have been the happiest moment of my life. 

So why wasn’t it? Why did that ache in my chest return? Why did I long for him as if he were worlds away when I was in his arms? When would this— our bond— feel real? 

“Then I want to believe you when you say that—” I didn’t pause to consider that I sounded like I was calling Taemin a liar— “but it sounds too good to be true.” 

Taemin must have realized that there was nothing he could say. We were at another impasse. Silence fell over us, and I didn’t want it to stay, so I spoke through the discomfort. 

“You have to understand who you are to me, Taemin.” Calling him an idol— stripping him of his humanity in such an intimate setting— was the worst thing to do. 

Tracing my thumb along his knuckles, trying to feel that he was real, I carefully continued, “You are somebody I’ve admired for years. Yours is a voice I cherished long before you had anything to say to me. I loved you before I met you, and—” I hoped he wouldn’t think less of me for believing, “the problem with dreams coming true is that you always wake up or the dream becomes a nightmare.”

Taemin must have been shocked by my honesty. Seconds or hours or eternities passed quietly before he said, “I think that you should learn to enjoy dreams— if that’s what we are— as they happen. I think you can ruin the night if you spend the time worrying about what could happen when the sun rises.” 

Of course, it occurred to me before that worrying achieves nothing. On some level, I always knew that I could benefit from learning to live in the moment— finding that balance between being a successful idol and being a happy person. Yet, it was as if Taemin had turned on the light with his gentle warnings that were always prefaced by the phrase, “I think,” because he was too humble to boast, “I know.” 

I already decided that I didn’t want to be lonely. 

Then, as silence fell again, I decided that I didn’t want to be incapable of appreciating beauty until it had faded out of my grasp. That’s why I lifted my head from Taemin’s chest: I wanted to admire him. I wanted to really see him clearly. 

I didn’t expect that he would be looking at me as if patiently waiting for me to return his gaze. 

Before I could sort through my thoughts, I was saying his name. “Taemin, I just really want you to be here when the sun rises.” 

If he was as shocked by the mid-night declaration as I was, he certainly didn’t show it with that radiant smile. “Okay,” was all he said before holding my head against his chest where I heard it: his heart was soaring, racing, beating for me like mine was for him.

. . . 

Interviews— although often uncomfortable— were never as unbearable as a solo artist as they were as a member of SuperM. Part of the issue was that, without my phone, I couldn’t scroll through social media to educate myself on the popular topics of gossip. 

It wasn’t so shocking when the first interviewer asked if Lucas and I were a couple. That question had been following us for years and (I guessed) the rumors about our supposed undying love were amplified by LX2’s existence. 

I was winded, however, when the rumors started to stray from Lucas. Almost daily, in my place between Ten and Mark (or English line, as the fans called us, since our knowledge of the language facilitated the American interviews), I sat with my hands clenched into tight pale fists, jaw set, as I waited to discover which member I was alleged to be sleeping with this time. 

The interview started, as they usually do, with a relatively unoffensive question: “Who from Korea do you keep in touch with while you’re on tour?”

The host was a middle-aged man— bearded and wearing glasses and a t-shirt— who twitched with every frequent sip from his coffee mug. He listened with feigned interest to the other members who answered with some variation of the fact that they stayed in contact with the members of their individual groups (except Baekhyun, who replied, “Super Junior’s Donghae,” just to watch my fists tighten in their place in the lap of my black skirt), before fixing his stare on me. 

“What about you? You’re a solo act outside of SuperM, right?” It was promising at first, the realization that he had done some research, but my hopes that maybe— finally— I was participating in a legitimate interview crashed with the following question. “Do you have a boyfriend back in Korea that you text every night, you know, just to tell him, ‘hi, I love you, I promise I’m not hooking up with any of my superstar bandmates?’”

Questions like that made my blood boil. He didn’t want to know my answer. He didn’t care who I talked to or who I loved. He just wanted to watch me squirm as he pried into my personal affairs. 

“Yes,” I said as calmly as possible, “I am a solo artist. No, I do not have a boyfriend in Korea—”

He raised his eyebrows, probably, in preparation to ask if my boyfriend was touring America with me, but I continued, “When I’m on tour, I try to find time to talk to Joy of Red Velvet or Amber Liu. If I need advice on something related to my performance, I’ll waste no time in calling Girls’ Generation’s Taeyeon.” 

Why didn’t anybody ever ask about my friendships with those girls? It seemed wrong that everyone should be so fixated on my romantic relationships — of which there had only been one that was held as our precious secret— when I would have been more than happy to share the friendships that shaped me as a person and as an artist. 

That interviewer seemed to share Baekhyun’s recently developed interest in making me as uncomfortable as possible. He asked the group, “So, was it hard to teach your new girl all of the choreography? Just how long did it take her to get it?”

In situations like that, I liked to think that I was somehow misunderstanding the question or mistaking the tone. Sometimes, that was the only way to keep myself from snapping. Sometimes, that was the only way I could sit there, legs crossed, without shattering my perfect posture and perfect smile. 

Ten’s temper was as bad as mine— worse, actually— so I didn’t fully succumb to my irritation when he rolled his eyes at the question. I didn’t acknowledge that I had a right to be uncomfortable, that the interviewer was truly being rude, until Kai leaned forward to tap Mark on the shoulder and request, “Translate, please.”

As soon as Mark translated the question, Kai replied in rapid-fire Korean that I couldn’t quite keep up with, “That’s a stupid-ass question. Lei isn’t in the group just because she’s a girl or because she’s pretty or because she’s popular. She’s here because she’s talented. And we’re not here to answer stupid questions that belittle our members.” 

We all stared at Kai as he sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and pouting his lips. Ten and I, wearing twin stunned expressions, looked (along with the interviewer) for Mark to translate Kai’s answer.

“I — uh—” Mark stuttered— “Kai said, no offense— I added that part— but that question is kinda— no, really disrespectful to Lei.”

Ten agreed, jumping at the opportunity to strike the interviewer with his sass. “Yeah. For us NCT guys—” he gestured to the other NCT members— “although some of us are older, Lei is, like, our senior because she debuted first. We didn’t have to teach her anything. She teaches us.”

Mark translated Ten’s comment for the others, and Lucas and Taeyong murmured in agreement. 

I shook my head despite the affection swelling in my chest. “No, that’s not true. You guys teach me a lot.” 

The interviewer’s stare was all that kept me from saying that Taeyong taught me about leadership, integrity, and honest communication. Ten reintroduced me to the joy in dancing, which (for me) had become less of a soulful expression and more of a mechanical execution of choreography. Lucas taught me so much— too much to describe with words— but the most important lesson was to laugh like nobody is watching even though somebody was always watching. Mark reminded me that people— some people— even in the entertainment industry are good just for the sake of being good. 

And I loved them for that, so I declared, “I love my members,” including (of course) Taemin, Kai, and Baekhyun (even though he was a little demon). I meant it so earnestly that I forgot to consider how my words could be perverted. 

“Yeah, but which member do you love most?” The interviewer winked. 

Gathering from my glare at his perversion of “love,” the interviewer redirected the question to the other members, asking, “So we all know it’s happening— who’s sleeping with Lei?”

Granted, I was technically sleeping with Taemin. We would never admit it in an interview, but we had fallen into the habit of falling asleep in the warmth of each other’s embrace. Maybe, then, my blush was caused by the embarrassment of a) having such an intimate aspect of my life aired publicly and b) having it questioned with so little understanding and respect. 

Before I spoke my mind, Mark said the stupidest sentence in recorded history: “Look, man, as bandmates we’re all involved with each other, but we’re not, like, involved.”

Ten started growling, “What—” before I cut my eyes away from Mark to tear into the interviewer. 

Of course, he didn’t shrink under my stare or burn from the flames flung by my narrowed eyes. It didn’t matter that he seemed to delight in my reaction; I spoke the truth not for his benefit but for mine. 

“Aside from being disgusting— the fact that you can only look at me and see my worth as some sexualized creature— it’s appalling that you spread these rumors with absolutely no regard for how it affects my image and my career. These guys—” I shrugged in reference to the other members— “are expected to priorities their relationships with their fans above all else—”

“Don’t you think that’s a little ridiculous, though?” The interviewer slurped into his microphone as he took a sip of his coffee. “Don’t you think these guys should date if they want?”

Yes. Of course, I did. They deserved to do whatever would make them happy. 

“What they do is none of my concern.” The words were diplomatic, but my tone was not. “It is a problem for me, however, that this narrative painted by those, like yourself, in the media depicts me not only as a disgraced idol but— more importantly— as somebody willing to squander artistic opportunities by sleeping with everybody in a band. Learn to respect me as a woman, an idol, or a human being. Take your pick.”

My hand raised to detach the microphone from the collar of my white button-down top cut just above the navel, but it paused when he asked, “If the standards are so harsh on idols— especially women— don’t you think you’re obligated to challenge the standard?”

His question— spoken so casually as if he weren’t advocating mindlessly for the impossible— should have stunned me silent. It didn’t.

“No,” I said not because I was the perfect idol, not because I wanted to uphold that illusion in that moment, but because I was emboldened by the reality, “I am an artist, not a revolutionary.” 

Before the interviewer could challenge me further— before I could act on the pulsating desire to rip the microphone off, throw it onto the ground, and stomp it under my unnecessarily high red heels, Mom intervened with the muttered excuse that we had other events to attend. She even thanked that bastard for his time. 

I know that was her job— I knew that then— but I felt too angry, too betrayed, to look in her direction afterward. Our relationship wasn’t even remedied in the car when she returned mine and Lucas’s phone with the instruction, “Behave from now on. And brace yourselves for the incoming social media storms when that interview is broadcast.”

Lucas was so thrilled to have his phone, his true best friend, returned that he dropped his arm from its protective place around my shoulders. 

Instantly my screen lit from notifications of fans’ reactions to that interview. It must have been a live broadcast. Not quite ready to face praise or criticism, I locked my phone and shoved it into the narrow space between mine and Lucas’s body. 

With my face burning from the realization that there would be no opportunity to edit or retract any part of my outburst— not that I really wanted to— I rounded on Mark, who sat right behind me (beside Taemin who, of course, sat beside Kai). 

“What the hell was that about, Mark?” My imitation of his voice was so accurate that in the seat ahead of me, Ten threw his head back in a bitter sort of laughter. “‘We’re involved, but we’re not involved? What kind of stupid shit—”

Taemin had been smiling when I first turned around, but his expression turned to one of complete bewilderment. His understanding of the incident must have been limited by the interview’s language barrier. He whispered to Kai, “What’s wrong?”

As Kai (who had been donning a scowl that rivaled mine since his outburst) tried to explain the situation to Taemin, Mark stared at me with eyes so wide and guilty that I would have forgiven him instantly if I hadn’t spent so many years swallowing my frustration that I could no longer package my emotions back into their appropriate internal boxes. 

“I’m sorry,” Mark stuttered, “I didn’t mean to say something so stupid—”

“Well, you did!” Ten whirled around to yell at him, brows angled and ears crimson. “If that’s going to be your contribution in interviews, I’m kicking you off English line!”

Mark argued, “You can’t kick me off English line! That’s not how it works! As long as I know English, I’m on English line—” he laughed nervously and reached for my shoulder— “right, Lei?”

Usually, I probably would have laughed along with Ten before siding with Mark. Even in that moment of rage, I worried that I was being too harsh on Mark. It wasn’t really his fault that the media (and that interviewer in particular) was so problematic. Still, that concern didn’t prevent me from crossing my arms, turning around and tugging sharply out of Mark’s reach, and fixing my gaze on the back of Ten’s seat.

As if sensing that I wanted nothing more than to go deaf to Ten’s bickering and Mark’s incessant pleas for me to “please turn around” and forgive him, Taeyong tossed me a pair of earphones and an apologetic grin— if you can really call it a grin. 

Even after I plugged the headphones into my phone and tried to drown my anger in the music flooding into my ears, I rolled my eyes when Mom’s voice raised to snap, “Be quiet back there! I’m on an important call!” before saying into the receiver, “I’m back, Heechul.”

I could only vaguely hope that neither she nor Heechul would say anything loudly enough for Baekhyun, sitting in the passenger seat (one of the perks of being the leader), to hear.

Although Amber, Joy, and Taeyeon had brightened my day with their support, I didn’t feel like running to the pool with the guys when we returned to the hotel. While they were immersed in excited chatter, I beelined to the elevator, rejoicing when Baekhyun told Lucas (who must have been trying to follow me), “Give her space. If she’s anything like Momager, you don’t wanna be around while her temper is flaring.”

I wanted to be alone, but not because my temper was flaring. My furious blush had been abandoned in the car hours ago. Mostly, I was sorry for snapping at Mark— too sorry to look at him or even think of him without picturing the pained expression that settled on his face when I yelled at him— and bothered that my relationship with Taemin had been so misconstrued by that gross interviewer. 

Bothered wasn’t a strong enough word, but I don’t know how else to describe how I felt. It wasn’t quite anger; my face would have been burning still, and I would have been grinding my teeth and balling my hands into fists as I pressed my back against the cold wall. It was more like sadness (but without the pain in my chest) because tears were blurring the edges of my vision, and my lips were trembling. 

The tears weren’t quite ready to fall, so I was standing there with hands ready to catch them when he forced his way through the closing elevator doors. I don’t know if the doors were even closed before Taemin had his arms wrapped around me. 

Because I hadn’t expected him to be so close again until the moon rose, I gasped at the contact, too stunned to return the affection. It was over as soon as it started, over well before the sounding of the chime announcing that we had arrived on our floor. 

Neither of us spoke until we were inside the room, safe from prying eyes. Although we were still wearing our clothes from the day of interviews, although the sun had not yet set, Taemin sat on the bed we called ours— which was still unmade because we had to run downstairs after ignoring our first alarm that morning— and opened his arms for me. 

The version of me who crawled to him wasn’t the same person I had been for most of my life. The version of me who was comfortable with wanting Taemin, who didn’t feel weak for leaning on him— she was a good person. I wished to be her all the time. I was hurt by the outside voices that said I couldn’t be. 

Taemin didn’t ask me to explain why tears were swimming in my eyes, but I did. “I know that we can’t tell other people what we have. I don’t want to waste my breath explaining things nobody can understand anyway. But why do people who don’t even know us have to try to take what’s our and make it into something— something less than what it is?”

Taemin’s fingertips that traced the skin below the hem of my shirt were uncharacteristically cold; they made me shiver. “I don’t know,” he mumbled, “and I’m sorry that happened. I’m sorry I can’t carry more of the burden for you.” 

I looked at his face and saw it in the tensing of his jaw: the frustration that he hadn’t been able to understand when I was under attack, the bitter knowledge that (even if he had known) he couldn’t have defended me without arousing suspicions that we were in a relationship. 

Unlike the Lucas rumors that, despite persisting through years of rejection, carried no real weight because they were untrue, rumors about Taemin would have been suffocating because, to some degree, they were true. How would I be able to deny an outright allegation against us? Even if my words lied, my face would convey the truth that Taemin was my first love. 

I was going to tell Taemin that he didn’t have to carry any burden for me— I only wanted him to hold me like this every night to brace me for the next day— but when I looked at him, I couldn’t speak. He was dressed as Taemin the idol, and for a fleeting second, I transformed into the version of myself who couldn’t believe that he was real and in this place with me. 

“They can’t take what’s ours, though.” He linked our hands, smiled brightly, and he was real. “And that means nobody can make it less than what it is.”

Taemin pressed his forehead to mine. I imagine that he was giddy with the realization that our relationship— although unconventional and undefined (‘soulmates’ who weren’t ‘dating’)— was as significant to me as it had always been to him. I imagine that he might have kissed me if Mom hadn’t knocked on the door. 

As I leaped from the bed to answer the door, Taemin snatched something from his suitcase, slid into the bathroom, and locked the door. 

I carefully swallowed the red-hot anger I had been harboring toward Mom (since she thanked that interviewer for his time) before opening the door. She was on the phone again, but she held it away from her ear when I ushered her into the room. 

She sat perched on the edge of the still-made untouched bed, placed the phone by her side, and said, “You know, Lei, as your manager, I have to discourage you from ever repeating your behavior from that interview this morning.” 

Had I been able to find my voice as I stood there, staring down at her with tightly clenched fists, I would have wanted to spit back that I would say exactly what I said that morning every day for the rest of my life because it was true. The thing is, though, I think that kind of honesty was a once in a lifetime thing. The circumstances that prompted that outburst were a perfect storm; placed in an identical situation tomorrow, my voice might fail me. 

“But as your mother—” a bright smile overwhelmed her stern expression— “I have to say that I’m very proud of you for standing up for yourself!”

When Mom flew off the bed to throw her arms around me, I wrestled with the thought that maybe she struggled to find the balance between mom and manager as much as I struggled to find the balance between human and idol. I thought she was a good mom and a good manager, and I might have told her if she hadn’t released me to grab her phone from the bed. 

“There’s somebody else who wants to speak to you too.” 

From that mischievous glint in her eyes, I should have expected Heechul’s voice to burst through the speaker when I held the phone up to my ear. 

“KID—” he would always call me ‘kid’ no matter how old I was— “I AM SO PROUD OF YOU! NOBODY HAS EVER BEEN AS PROUD AS I AM OF YOU—”

I smiled as I held the phone away from my ear, squirming at the realization that if Heechul was congratulating me, I must have been a rogue idol.

Had anyone been paying attention to us, they would have noticed that Taemin and I walked to the pool together. Of course, we were careful not to hold hands or allow our gazes to linger, but whenever Taemin was near me, I felt that there must be some outward evidence of our bond. 

I knew that it was better that the others were too engrossed in their volleyball game (except Ten, who sat on a sun chair in a well-shaded corner) to notice us until Lucas and Kai wildly beckoned for us to join the game. Yet, although I hadn’t so much as whispered to Lucas that there was something between me and Taemin, I was always slightly disappointed when none of these people— who were my closest friends— noticed what (to me) was impossible to ignore.

Taemin, clad in black swimming trunks, dashed to Kai’s side, but I explained my reluctance to join the game. “I don’t wanna get my hair wet.” Really, though, I didn’t want to shed my denim shorts. 

As I walked to claim the seat next to Ten, Baekhyun cupped both hands around his mouth and yelled, “Lei! Bring me a drink!” and pointed to a small blue cooler. 

When I held a freezing Sprite out to him, standing a safe distance from the edge of the pool because I expected him to pull me into the water, I teased, “You should really use your manners, Baek. ‘Please’ and ‘thank you’ are nice words.”

He swam over to me, opened the drink, and winked. “Thanks. Ya know, you should follow your own advice and go thank Ten over there.”

I wrinkled my eyebrows at Baekhyun as he gulped the drink down in one sip. “Why?”

“Ah!” Baekhyun beamed at the can as if it contained the best drink he had ever tasted or as if it had been his first drink after months of wandering through a desert. I rolled my eyes at his theatrics, and he laughed. “Oh! Because he came up with the best plan to get Momager and Donghae— Momhae, as I call them— together!”

Miraculously, nobody turned their head at Baekhyun’s hollering. I blinked at him as if that were an adequate defense against his devilish smile and feigned ignorance as best as I could. “What?”

Knowing that he had done enough to get under my skin— he had done enough to flash his hand without showing all the tricks he held up his sleeve— Baekhyun shrugged. “Why don’t ya ask Ten about it?” He suggested before swimming back to the volleyball game, leaving the Sprite can empty at my feet. 

After tossing Baekhyun’s trash into the bin, I sat next to Ten. Pulling my sandaled feet onto the chair, I tried to study his expression to gather whether he actually knew about “Momhae.” Because he was wearing huge black sunglasses that covered most of his face, I couldn’t piece anything together.

I didn’t even know if Ten noticed me until a smirk tugged at his lips. “Like what ya see?”

I hadn’t even been looking at Ten like that, yet the suggestive lilt of his voice painted my face a pale pink. Maybe Ten couldn’t see my blush through his sunglasses, but I tore my gaze away anyway and sat back in my chair, arms crossed over my short cropped t-shirt. 

Ten lowered his glasses to delight in my reaction to his teasing. Something about that sparkle in his eyes annoyed me— emboldened me to reply, “No, not really.” 

Realizing that I wasn’t playing along with his flirtations, Ten’s jaw dropped (maybe to ask what was wrong with me), but I didn’t give him a chance to speak. “You shouldn’t be talking about my mom’s personal affairs with Baekhyun of all people.”

Ten only said, pitch high from confusion, “What?”

And I realized that Baekhyun tricked me into bringing Momhae up to another member. When he waved at me (just before Taemin launched the volleyball at his obnoxiously large head), I thought I could have murdered Baekhyun. 

Ten knew absolutely nothing about Mom and Donghae. He probably hadn’t considered anything about Mom’s life outside of being a manager until I opened my big mouth. Now, he was looking for me to explain my outburst, and I only had time to briefly thank God that I hadn’t mentioned Donghae’s name before Lucas plopped down onto the foot of my chair. 

I could have barked at Lucas for shaking his head like a wet dog and soaking me with pool water, but I was too grateful that he had come to dig me out of this awkward situation with Ten. Once he opened his mouth, however, I realized that Lucas was there to worsen matters. 

As if Ten wasn’t sitting right there, still staring at me, Lucas said, “Dude, Lei, I’ve been meaning to tell you since, like, the start of the tour that Taemin likes you.” 

Had I not known, I might have been as shocked as Ten, who sat up so quickly that his sunglasses fell onto the ground. “What? Taemin likes Lei?”

When my instinct was to hiss for Ten to be quiet, Lucas narrowed his eyes at me. “Wait. You’re not surprised enough. Did Taemin already tell you he likes you?”

I never stopped being surprised by how perceptive Lucas was. Usually, that trait made him a remarkable best friend because it enabled him to know when I was troubled without requiring an awkward exchange of feelings. In that moment, however, I wanted to kick Lucas for somehow knowing everything. 

I didn’t lie exactly. “I don’t think Taemin likes me.” I didn’t think; I knew.

Neither Ten (who just liked to tease everybody) nor Lucas (who just wanted to know every intimate detail of my life) was satisfied by that response. When they continued to pester me about Taemin, I had to adopt the same tone I used in the interview to scold, “Cut it out, guys. I still have to sleep in a room with him tonight and for the rest of the tour, and you’re making it weird!”

My heart was still racing after they ceased their demands for more information. I was so overwhelmed by the fact that I had almost shared my two deepest secrets— Donghae’s love for Mom (which was directly related to her true identity as the idol who never debuted) and my love for Taemin— that I retired to my room early without apologizing to Mark, which was the entire reason why I walked down to the pool in the first place.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Mount Everest Ain't Got Shit On Us (Fezco x fem! reader, Part 13.)

Description: You were always told that your life will be as you wish it to be if you’ll study enough. That it will pay off if you work hard. And some people were given you like a scary example of what will happen when you don’t obey. But sometimes it feels good to disobey.

A/N: Inspired by the great Labrinth’s very own song which inspired the name of the whole series - Mount Everest. Check it out!

A/N 2: Also sorry for the delay, I didn't want to rush this chapter or whatever and I didn't have exactly the time to sit down on a coffee with my classmate, whose experience inspired this chapter and then to write it all down. She claims she saw and felt dat shit and I believe her, so no complaints on my head, please.

Warnings: Hallucinogenic drugs usage and slightly surreal smut.

Word count: 2.3 K

Read the rest here, babe:  PART 1  PART 2  PART 3  PART 4  PART 5  PART 6  PART 7  PART 8  PART 9  PART 10  PART 11  PART 12

Masterlist and declaration: H E R E

Tagging: @charmed-asylum, @jeyramarie, @pantherxrogers, @analia-analia-analia

When you fell in love, you feel like the other person hasn't got a single flaw on them. Sometimes, this feeling slowly fades away and you start to slowly see the flaws and they can't be unseen then.

But when you're lucky, really lucky, you fell in love so deeply, that the person was just made for you. And even after all those months, that feeling of happiness, excitement and love still takes a hold on you every time you see them.

You do the craziest shit together with them and you usually are total couple goals together. Always holding each other in a tight grip, inside jokes that make you laugh as crazy and secrets only the other one knows are sure thing. The longer you're together, the more you know each other and the strong your bond is.

You and Fez were exactly the couple who was all badass, cute and funny to be around with. When you were together on some parties, you always straddled his lap, wore his hoodies and sweaters, drinking from his cup and practically kissing the living soul out of him.

There were millions of photos, boomerangs, and videos of you - sometimes you shot them, sometimes it was Jules or Rue, or Fran when you were hanging out.

Your most favorite one was you in a winter coat with Fezco's beanie as he held you from the back in a hoodie, standing on the cliff and looking into the forest as the sun was setting - that was your wallpaper. Rue's favorite video of you two was when you ordered pizza and he was feeding you, nudging your mouth with the pizza slice, which made you laugh. Jules's personal video was when you and Rue sang dancing queen on of the many parties and then you ran to Fezco’s arms, jumping into his embrace and circles him with your legs and hands, kissing him.

But there were many, many more - the time when Fez fell asleep with his head on your belly on a sunny day, a selfie of you in a swimming pool, late-night selfie and you even made some slightly erotic photos.

One of them was your favorite - your pussy in lacy black panties was straddling his lap clothed in denim jeans with his dick completely hard. You even had one when Fezco was pounding into you and arched your back, having his ass all hard and tensed up and it was covering your pussy completely.

Your relationship was the ultimate couple goal. Nobody ever saw a couple so crazy for each other than you two. Your Instagram feed was full of your couple photos, the pics from your trips and you with Rue and Jules hanging out.

And one time, Fez ultimately surprised you.

You were staying over at his place, he was finishing some business and you were feeding his na, bathing her and reading her some news, even if you knew that she couldn't hear you. Fez came back around nine p.m. with you immediately circled around his waist.

You had your rainbow-striped sweater on, a messy hair bun and you already put your make-up off. You kissed his shoulder wide, snuggled into one of them.

"Been gon' for two hours, ya monkey." - He slowly leaned into your embrace, putting his hands all over yours.

"I know, and I've missed you so fucking much." - You whispered, closing your eyes and turning his face to you. You tiptoed, kissing him hungrily. - "No other businesses today?"

"Only ours today, babe." - Fez leaned forward, putting his hands all over your butt, circling around his arms your waist. - "Got ya a small surprise." - He took you by your hand to his and lead you to his bedroom, which was basically yours as well. You had a lot of your clothes in there, you moved in some of Fezco's favorite undies, bras, and panties for him, some leggings and t-shirts. He sat you on his bed and took something out of his bag.

"There ya go, baby." - Fezco said with a smile, holding an open palm to you. There was a small pill with something painted on it. You circled your fingers around his wrist, taking a seriously deep breath in.

"Fez, I don't know." - You gulped and closed his palm. He sat next to you, kissing your cheek, tugging your earlobe playfully.

"This ain't no shit, would not buy anythin' bad for ma babe. When ya take it, I swear that I will fuck you like never before." - He whispered into your ear.

You somehow accepted that Fezco is making a living out of drug dealing. Because you loved him so much, you somehow accepted that he was most probably the one who made Rue able to OD herself. But you weren't exactly sure about taking the pill.

Fezco wouldn't be mad a bit when you would not accept the pill. But you knew the motto that Rue and Fez use in their life: you need to try everything. And you were seriously curious.

Who would not be curious about drugs? Everyone in the world sometime in their life thought about the states they gave to human body. There were so many of them, so much different states, so much to discover.

It was only one pill. And your man who loved you like no-one else. You trusted him - Fezco knew what material and pills he should buy. When he told you that it's safe - it was safe. Curiousness and love made you blind.

"You are not making me to do it, don't you? It will be good when I'll not do it?" - You asked worriedly. Fezco leaned into your body and kissed you slowly.

"I would fuckin' never." - He smiled, standing up to get the pill back into his backpack. But your hand stopped him.

"Fine. I'll try it. Just once. You swear?" - You asked quietly with a slight frown on your face. Fezco stood up in front of you, smoothing your face. - "Babe you don't have to do dat shit. It was only an idea, baby girl."

"I wanna try it. I only live once, right?" - You smiled, slowly rolling the tongue out of your mouth, hugging his upper thighs with your hands. Fezco slowly put the pill on his tongue, slowly dropping on his knees, taking your face to his palm. While his tongue danced in your mouth, you felt how the pill slipped down your tongue and throat. Slowly, he was climbing on the top of you, putting his hands next to your hips.

Fezco was getting eager, as always when it was getting intense in the bed. When you opened your eyes up, the world was getting blurry and somehow blissful. You saw sparkles everywhere, they looked like little stars. You exhaled out loud and closed your eyes.

You slowly felt as you were falling down, your head spun all over the place. The world stopped around you, you would swear it hadn't moved for a several second straight. Your heartbeat was almost insanely loud, destroying your ears slowly and the blood in you body stopped. Your breathing and moaning was resonating through the space of the bedroom.

Your back reached the bed, but your body was falling deeper and deeper to the unknown. The blue of Fezco's eyes was lighting the darkness around your, they were bluer than the ocean, wilder than the fire. For a moment, there were three Fezcos, the next moment he was blue, wildly violet and red, sparkled in glitter.

Then you felt how he touched you gently, he was burning hot. You watched that place and your mouth was opened widely. You saw his hands slowly traveling your body and while you watched the stars on the ceiling, you found yourself and even him completely naked. Your body was trembling and the sounds coming from you were wild and animalistic. Fez knew that those were the sounds he wouldn't forget.

You basically screamed so loud it had to be heard a mile away.

You were clueless when he disappeared, but you just laid there completely tuned down with your hands tangled in your hair as you watched the universe uncovering in front of your eyes. Then you felt how he pushed your thighs to the mattress and buried his tongue within your clit. Your body felt melting plastic as you hugged his head as always.

You felt how your body was dripping into the bed as was from a candle, you tried to breathe normally, but your mouth was capable of moaning exclusively while he worked down there. The sheets on the blanket felt so slick that you were slipping on it. For a moment, you leaned your head backward and closed your eyes.

When you opened them up again, you would swear that you could see a whole fucking universe there just expanding and rotating around your own head. You smiled at the view - and a scream came out of your lips as you came. Fireworks started to happen in your view as you shook and called his name out, all sweaty and rolling your eyes backward. It felt like a big lie, yet it was so real in your head.

Before you could move or say anything to him, you were kneeling on all fours on the bed with your ass up as he slowly entered you from the back. You couldn't watch the euphoric utopian views at the moment, but the feelings inside of you were just as strong and beautiful. You loved every moment of it.

His dick felt normally really good, but this time, you felt as every other thrust slowly cracks you up and how is it destroying your whole body while your pussy never felt a dick so good. You also were hornier and wetter than usual, so without you even realizing, you were praising him up like a little boy and screaming at him to go faster and rougher at you.

Even if his granny was with her senses and could waken up, you would scream the same. You felt like a little child who tried the taste of sugar for the first time ever - there was nothing better than that. The sugar was like his dick; there could never be anything better than that. 

You didn't even have a clue how many times you came that night, the orgasm was just swelling your body, again and again, so you basically never stopped shaking and tensing your muscles. 

Suddenly, it made sense to you - why people took drugs to feel so fucking good. Rue did that. Fezco was doing that, even when he claimed that he’s doing that a lot less since he had you by your side. Jules did that. The adults took pills and medicine to feel at least ok. The popular girls were doing that. Everyone was.

They were taking drugs for that small moment, when the world just stop, your consciousness is nowhere to be found, your breath and heartbeat stops. There is a moment when your own body feels like its dead. 

And you're laying there on your knees while your boyfriend is giving you the best sex of your whole life, looking inside of you like an empty doll; a doll without expression, its own mind or opinions and with a pale face. 

But then your life turned back on again. You are thrown back to reality as a piece of filth, as your heartbeat jumps back again and as you took a fucking deep breath. You're alive suddenly again and nothing is more disappointing. They are doing it for that little moment when you feel like a part of the galaxy. 

“How ya feelin’?” - A voice that resonated through the bedroom whispered to your ear and you turned your head a bit to look at him. You would swear that there’s some green light illuminating him and that someone’s projecting a Chinese dragon onto his naked chest. You had no clue that he’s actually naked as well. 

But you just lazily smiled at him. You had the same face Rue usually had when she found that small spot in the darkness again. Just by the looks of your face, he could tell that you took something. You couldn’t hold your gaze at him, your body was like jello - if his hands weren't holding your ass up, you would just fall down and lay there. 

Your eyes scared him a bit. They were lifeless, empty - like his little baby girl wasn't even there. He heard about it - it was a syndrome when the windows were shining, but nobody wasn't home. His granny had the same syndrome as you had.

“Good.” - You answered slowly and started to giggle and that was the moment Fezco knew you had enough - enough of his dick or drugs for that matter. He slowly laid you down onto the bed, but you just weren't in your own head at the moment. You maybe was wet like a bitch and came about four times during your session, but your empty eyes were just glaring at the ceiling. 

Fezco had a smile on - you probably won’t even remember any of that in the morning, just the euphoria you felt and how slow and your heartbeat was. But he loved you like no one before and every time he took another look at you, he was more and more sure of it. 

And if he could show you a euphoria like that, why wouldn't he?

That was why everyone was doing it. 

Because of those euphoric fucking feelings in their own head.

[coolveraverto]

Treacherous

Summary: Meet Lyra Bones: She has best mates losing all sorts of virginities, her step-sister-to-be is out to ruin her life, she spends every weekend helping Hagrid feed the thestrals (and whatever else he manages to bring onto Hogwarts property), she has an embarrassingly massive crush on Lorcan Scamander, and Albus Potter wants to make a deal with her?

Harry Potter Fanfiction ~ Albus Potter/OC

Chapter 1:

I’m eating my dinner in The Great Hall when Jess Jordan, one of my best friends and roommates, flips off the Gryffindor quidditch captain as he saunters by our table and makes a snide comment towards her.

“I call it as I see it, douchebag.” She tells him, not even bothering to look over her shoulder at him.

Joel McLaggen stops in his tracks, some of his Gryffindor quidditch posse behind him. I start munching on my chicken wing, happy for some entertainment with my meal. This should be good.

“Maybe you should get your eyes checked then. It would explain why you always look like shit.” He says.

Oh, Helga.

Jess rolls her dark eyes and takes a big ol’ bite of her shepherds pie. “Take your complaints to the Headmaster and piss off. I’m eating.”

Margo, my other best friend and roommate, and I share a smile beside each other. We both know that Jess can handle some jerk - she’s done it a million of times since she’s become the Quidditch Commentator in our fourth year. Some people take their quidditch a little too seriously if you ask me. . .

“Slag.” He retorts and begins walking towards the Gryffindor table.

Oh no he did not!

Without thinking I flick my wand and McLaggen’s black pants slide right down to the floor, causing him to trip and fall on his face, his undies out for everyone to see. The entire Great Hall erupts into laughter.

“Oh, Helga - does his undies say tuesday on them?” I wonder out loud whilst grinning like mad. This only causes my friends to laugh even harder.

Lysander Scamander sits beside Jess. His dark blond hair is a big mess and his yellow and black tie is a bit crooked. I look over at the Gryffindor table just as Louis Weasley, looking just as disheveled, sits with his Weasley-Potter clan. He and Lysander have been dating since they got drunk at the end-of-the-year party last June and snogged in a broom closet.

“Did I just see McLaggen’s knickers?” He asks and tries to take a fork-full of my mashed potatoes. I smack his hand away.

“Yes. But I bet his isn’t the only you’ve seen tonight.” Margo replies with a smirk.

Lysander’s cheeks turn red. “Oh, sod off. But I’m curious, did you have an ulterior motive to do it or were you just bored, Jess?” He asks the raven-haired girl beside him. She rolls her eyes at him.

“Why do you just assume it was me who had done it?” She wonders.

Lysander shrugs. “I don’t know, because you’re the hot-headed one of us?”

“Oh, really?” Jess literally growls and Lysander looks at Margo and I with a see-I-told-you look. “Well, you’re wrong. It was Lyra, actually. So suck it, Scamander.”

Lysander’s jaw drops. “Merlin’s beard. Why?”

“He had it comin’.” I tell him.

Lysander nods his head, taking this as a good enough answer and starts eating bread rolls. He and I have been best friends since before Hogwarts when we met at a Christmas party hosted by our parent’s mutual friend. I always thought of Lysander as more of a brother.

But his twin brother, Lorcan?

I always always had a horribly embarrassing crush on him.

Without even thinking my eyes immediately find Lorcan at the Ravenclaw table. He has his own group of mates, including my crazy soon-to-be-step-sister Indigo Patil, but he’s most certainly the smartest, the nicest, and the cutest of them all. With those dreamy, wistful-looking blue eyes and white blond hair that always fall in those eyes. . .

Ugh. How could I not be into him? Too bad he will never feel the same way about me. Every time I try to talk to him I always sound like a complete flobberworm! Nobody but Margo knows about my harbouring crush; Jess would just tear the mickey out of me if she knew and Lysander would probably feel super weird if the girl he thought of as a sister fancied his actual brother.

“Helloooo! Earth to Lyra!” Lysander snaps his fingers in front of my face with an amused expression.

“Huh?”

“You were spacing out again. And drooling.” He tells me. Margo giggles.

“I was thinking of pumpkin pie.” I say because they know how much I love pumpkin pie. And now I really do want pumpkin pie.

“Of course you were, you goon.” Jess replies half-heartedly. “We were discussing the Halloween party. You, Margo, and I should really talk about costumes. And decorations.”

“Okay. But I promised Professor Hagrid I’d feed Fang tonight while he’s away on important travels. So I’m not sure when I will be in bed.” I tell her and she nods her head understanding.

“And I have my lesson with Trelawney.” Margo murmured beside me.

“What about me? I don’t get a say in anything?” Lysander asks with a pout.

“Nope!” Jess replies with a smirk.

“Wow, thanks.”

“Did you get the password for the Room of Requirements from Louis?” I ask him.

“Yes, I did. And I got enough Firewhiskey to last us ten years probably.”

“Then we’re done with you. Leave us.” Jess tells him with a wave of her hand, dismissively.

He flips her off. Affectionately, I swear.

*

Fang nearly knocks me to the ground the second I step inside Professor Hagrid’s Hut. He’s taller than me (which isn’t much considering I’m only five feet) and he slobbers happily all over my hands and trousers.

I giggle. “Hello to you too, pup.”

He barks in response and I scratch behind his ears before making my way to turn on the lights.

Wait. The lights are already on. I didn’t turn them on, did I?

Hmm. I guess I did!

Fang follows me as I go to the closet that I know Professor Hagrid keeps Fang’s food in. His tail wags faster. What a funny pup! And yes, he’s pretty old but all dogs are puppies in my book, no matter their age.

As I’m filling his bowl, a creaking sound comes from behind Professor Hagrid’s bedroom door. And muffled voices? It can’t be Hagrid, can’t it?

Helga Hufflepuff. I will die if he is with . . . a lady in there.

I’m quickly making my way to leave when the bedroom door swings open and it’s not Hagrid. It’s even worse.

It’s Albus Potter.

“What are you doing here!?” We both ask each other. At the same time.

He looks peeved but he looked that way before he even noticed me here. He moves a hand through his messy dark hair and his Slytherin tie is hanging loosely around his neck. He’s very attractive. But a total jerk.

No thank you.

Well, not like he’s ever asked but he’s so not my type. Maybe more of Margo’s type. She has a thing for “bad boys”.

“I’m here because Professor Hagrid asked me to feed Fang while he’s away tonight.” I tell him and cross my arms. “Clearly you got whiff of him being out tonight as well.”

The corner of Albus’ lips turn up slightly. “Did you just say ‘whiff’?” He asks, just as a figure emerges behind him. Eleanor Zabini. A sixth year Slytherin that I’ve never spoken to but Margo (being a Prefect) has complained about for always breaking the rules.

“Oh thank Merlin. It’s just a Hufflepuff, I was afraid it was someone important.” She says.

Um? Ouch. That’s so rude.

Still, I don’t say anything back. It’s not really my style. . .

She turns to Albus. “Can we get out of here? This place reeks of dog.”

“Yeah, I’ll catch up with you.” He tells her and she sneers at me while walking past.

What did I do to her?

Once she’s gone, it’s just me and Albus Potter standing across from each other in Professor Hagrid’s Hut. And I realize he’s looking at me. Well, more like studying me. His brows are furrowed and he’s got this hint of a smirk on his face. Over the years, I’ve noticed he always has a hint of a smirk on his face.

I’ve never really spoken to Albus Potter before but everyone knows the Potter-Weasleys. Especially the kids of Wizard Savior himself. James is a year older, a Gryffindor Quidditch star that now plays for the Finches. Lily is a fourth year Gryffindor who is probably even crazier when it comes to Quidditch than James is. And Albus is in my year, a Slytherin Prefect whom I’ve shared classes with but was never partnered with. I know he has tea with Professor Hagrid every Tuesday because Hagrid has mentioned it.

“You’re not going to tell Hagrid about this, right?” He implies.

“Uh, excuse me? And why the bloody hell not?”

“He’ll tell my parents and I can not deal with that right now.” He says. “So could you just not tell him?”

I narrow my brown eyes at him and say, “He has a right to know. What you did was very disrespectful.”

Albus sighs. “Another reason I don’t want him to know. Come on. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

I look at him in surprise. “I don’t want anything. But. . . I won’t tell him, but if I catch this happening again you give me no choice but to let him know. He deserves that much respect for trusting you, you know.”

“Great, now I’m getting lectured by a Hufflepuff.” He says and rolls his eyes. Um. Excuse him?!

“Wise words from someone who was just begging me to keep a secret.”

He snorts like I’ve just said a joke. “Good point, Bones.”

“You know me?” I ask flabbergasted.

“Yup. Lyra Bones. Hagrid talks highly of you. . . Pretty sure you’re his favorite student.” He explains.

I already know this but still - it makes me smile.

“I better get going. . . “ He trails off.

“Oh, um, yes. Me too!”

Then we awkwardly bump shoulders trying to walk out the door at the same time. He lets me go first and I mumble a thank-you.

He walks a few steps behind me and once I’m closer to the castle, I run. Embarrassingly.

*

“He was shagging Eleanor Zabini in Professor Hagrid’s bed?!” Jess is bewildered.

I’m sliding under the sheet of my bed in between her and Margo’s respected bedposts. Their jaws all but dropped when I told them what happened. I waited until after we discussed our Halloween costumes to tell them, which they were pissed about. Apparently when it comes to ‘juicy gossip’ as Margo calls it, it comes first.

“Well, I don’t know if they were shagging. . .” I falter.

They both give me a get-real look. Albus Potter has quite the reputation. He ‘hooks up’ with girls but doesn’t date them. I’m not quite sure why but everyone knows this. The bloke has never even held hands with a girl before.

Margo shakes her head. “That’s so. . . skeevy. Even for him.”

“Yes.” I affirm.

Jess shrugs. “He’s Albus Potter - what did you expect? I just can’t believe your virgin eyes walked in on it.” She says with a shit-eating grin.

“I did not!” I yelp and throw a hufflepuff-crested pillow at her which she catches easily.

We’re all laughing until Margo takes that familiar sharp intake of breath and her blue eyes go glassy. Jess and I immediately hurry to her. She stares off into space for what feels like half a second.

Then she comes back to us. I hand her a bottle of water from the mini fridge we keep in our dormitory. She takes the bottle and sips water.

“Did you see something awful?” Jess prods her. I give her a stern look over our friend’s blonde head but she ignores me.

Margo shakes her head. “No but I saw something. . . insane. Crazy. Unbelievable-”

“Seriously, Margo. Just say it.” Jess interupts her, annoyed.

“I saw Albus Potter holding hands with a Hufflepuff girl.” She says.

“Woah.” I say.

Jess’ eyebrows fly into her hairline. “Are you sure?”

Margo rolls her eyes. “Yes I am sure!”

“Well, I’m just asking. You know sometimes the things you see don’t happen, or it doesn’t mean the way you think it does.” Jess tells her abruptly.

“Who was the girl?” I ask Margo, trying to avoid any kind of argument between them. Lysander is right when he said that Jess is the hot-headed one of us. Sometimes it’s a wonder how she got sorted into Hufflepuff, but Jess Jordan is quite possibly the most loyal person alive so I think that’s why.

Margo bites her lip. “I don’t know. I couldn’t see her face.”

“As much as I love to hear about Albus Potter’s future love-life, I’d much rather sleep. Goodnight, girls.” Jess climbs into her bed and draws her curtains around her.

I stand up from Margo’s bed to slide into my own but she grabs my wrist lightly. Her beady blue eyes are staring up at me. In a hushed tone she says, “It was you.”

“Huh?”

Her eyes flicker to Jess’ bed and back at me. “The girl he was holding hands with was you. I didn’t want to say anything in front of her because well. . . you know how she can be.”

“Okay,” I mutter and slide into my bed beside her. I don’t take Margo’s visions too seriously because most of them never come true and she’s usually wrong about them. It’s why she spends so much time with Trelawney so she can learn more about them.

Also - me and Albus Potter????? Helga Hufflepuff, get REAL. That will never ever happen.

“And you looked truly happy.” Margo says.

I scoff. “I am happy, Margo.”

She pursed her lips slightly before smiling warmly at me. “Goodnight, Lyra.” She says and flicks her wand to turn out the lights.

[quirkykayleetam]

The Courier: Cloud City

“Cloud City is a beautiful place to die,” the smuggler said.  The muzzle of his blaster pressed into the Courier’s back.  “After all, where else can you get this view?”

Pressing the Courier against the gilded silver railing of the balcony, he gestured at the sky.

The pair stood at the very top of Cloud City’s 100-story dome.  Around and beneath them clouds, soft and white, filled the robin’s egg blue of the sky.  Tourists and drivers in cloud cars zipped through the space around the station, leaving slight streaks of silver in the ether

It was beautiful from the top, sure, but the Courier couldn’t help looking down.

Perched 59,000 kilometers above the planet Bespin, Cloud City promised a sickening death for anyone who stepped of its beautifully crafted pleasure decks.  Its domed upper stories tapered off into a straight spindle that held the station’s Tibanna gas mines and the homes of its miners.  The smooth silver chrome of its sides gleamed in the sunlight, but didn’t allow any hand holds for anyone scrambling for life as they fell.

The Courier’s head spun as she contemplated the dizzying drop.

Her captor twitched the blaster and the Courier turned to face him.  Her back pressed painfully into the railing, the only thing keeping her alive.

“Now, we both know I could just shoot you.  I’ve done more to thieves for less.  But I’d rather not disturb these fine folks.”

The smuggler spared a glance for the crowds around them, dressed in feathers and gold, betting more on the spin of a single roulette wheel than most citizens of Cloud City would see in a year.  The Pair O’Dice casino was for the best of the best.

“So why don’t we handle this quietly?  You have to ask yourself,” he said, shaking the metal briefcase he held in his left hand, “is this tech really worth you life?”

The Courier could barely hear her answer over the blood thumping in her ears.

“Yes,” she said.

In one fluid motion, she lunged.

Her right hand struck true, shocking the smuggler with a hand buzzer she kept hidden in her sleeve.  It hurt him just enough to pry his fingers from the handle of the briefcase.  The Courier grabbed it, her mind already planning her escape.

Her left hand, moving to grab the blaster, was less successful.  The smuggler cursed and pulled the trigger.

Pain.

While the Courier was able to stop the shot from hitting her in her stomach, it blasted a hole in her right thigh.  The shot burned, charring a hole in the Courier’s leather pants, through her skin, straight to the bone.

Worse, the power of the blast threw her backwards.  The Courier hit the railing at an angle, failed to right herself, and plunged over the side.

It happened so fast that no one heard her scream.

The Courier fell.

Clouds that only seconds ago looked solid and fluffy disappeared beneath her in a puff of water vapor.  It coated her jacket and windswept hair.  Gods, it was cold.

The Courier’s stomach launched itself into her throat.  She tried to just breathe.

It wouldn’t be the fall that would kill her.  The Courier knew she would be dead long before that.  As soon as she fell through the Life Zone that surrounded the City, the percentage of oxygen in the atmosphere would change.  Eventually more and more hydrogen would fill her lungs and she’d die choking long before her lifeless body hit the surface of Bespin below.

The Courier clutched the briefcase to her chest.  She closed her eyes.

The force of impact took her by surprise.

The open cargo bay of the short-reach freighter was filled with the thickest mattresses the Courier could purchase on short notice.  That didn’t stop the Courier from hitting the ship hard enough to break at least two ribs, jostle her wounded leg, and pepper her body with more bruises than she wanted to think about.  She whited out for a moment before staggering to her feet.

If she thought breathing was hard before, it was down-right agony now.  Every gasp she took sent knives searing through her chest, making her want to gasp even more.  Just standing, all weight on her uninjured right leg was painful.  Moving was going to be excruciating.

Still, she could see the freighter’s captain moving in the cab.  By now he would have discovered that she’d chartered his ship to park at that particular spot for illegal reasons, not to unload his cargo.  He would be contacting the authorities as she panted behind him.

She was alive and she had the case.  That’s what was important.

With a labored weaze, the Courier took off down the corridor in front of her.  It didn’t take long for the authorities to catch up.

The lower 50 floors of Cloud City were filled with sprawling markets, some more legal than others.  Black market tech flourished.  It was what had brought the Courier here in the first place.

She winced as she jumped over a cart of hyperdrive generators, landing hard on her wounded leg.  She was lucky that Cloud City furnished its interiors with white foam padding.  It was ripped here and there in the lower decks, but it still allowed the Courier to perform more acrobatic maneuvers than she usually would.  That was probably the only thing that kept her out of range of the authority’s stun guns.

Grunting, the fugitive jumped into a work hatch.  There was a ladder, but she didn’t take the time to use it.  She simply gripped the rails loosely and slid down as quickly as she could.

The Courier tried counting floors, but the pain in her chest compounded with dizziness in her head from lack of oxygen made it hard to concentrate.  She’d have to risk it.  Without looking behind her, she picked a work tunnel and ran off.

As soon as she made it through the mine’s double doors, she risked a sigh of relief.  The lights were blue.  

When Cloud City started its gas mining operation, they recruited Ugnaughts, short porcine humanoids from the planet Gentes to staff the undertaking.  While the Courier loved the aliens, especially for their undying loyalty and brilliant drinking songs, she did not relish interrupting one while it was focused on its work.  Most urgently, Ugnaught work tunnels weren’t made for human transport.  Bathed in red light they were small and oddly shaped.  The Courier would be cornered if she ended up in one.

There was pounded on the door behind her.  The Courier was running out of time.

Last ditch effect it was then.

Gathering together the last of her energy, the Courier pressed the big red button beside her, held her breath, and ran for her life.

Tibanna gas from the city’s mines was expensive, but it couldn’t be sold until it was condense into a solid.  That meant that each work tunnel contained a carbon-freeze chamber that could flash-freeze anything to 0 degrees Kelvin in less than a second.

The Courier heard shouting behind, but she didn’t look back.  She didn’t have the time.  When she hit that button, she filled the corridor around her with gas.  When it reached capacity, the chamber would activate, freezing everything inside.  The Courier had to make it out before then without inhaling Tibana into her lungs.

The doors the Courier needed to reach were right in front of her.  If she reached out her hand, she thought she could feel them.  But they were already closing, ready to seal the tunnel off and her vision was going black around the edges as her aching chest demanded air, air, air.

Closing her eyes, the Courier jumped, aiming to torpedo her body through the closing hole in the middle of the doors.  It wasn’t graceful.  Her wounded leg hit the side of the shrinking doorway, leaving blood and burned cloth behind.  That knocked her body sideways so her shoulder hit too with a sickening crunch.  In the end, the Courier had to hit the ground flailing, crawling forward desperately so her feet wouldn’t get crushed behind her.

But she made it.  She clutched the suitcase to her chest and breathed.

She was alive.  She had the tech.  Nobody was going to stop her now.

***

It took the Courier several hours to maneuver her way back up a few floors from where she landed.  Her object was in the middle of the city’s winding white corridors, but she found it eventually.  It was what she did.

There was a door.  The Courier knocked.

“Delivery for Ginnifer Oswin.”

“We...I didn’t order anything,” the young woman at the door said.

The Courier undid the buckle on the briefcase, showing her what was inside.

“No, but I think you’ll want this.”

“Oh…!  I mean...we....”  She almost dropped the suitcase in her urge to get at it, turning behind her at the same time.  “Lena!  Lena, you won’t believe…!”

When she looked again, the Courier was gone.

Inside the cramped miner’s apartment, Ginnifer Oswin took the device out of the briefcase and applied it to her 8-year-old daughter’s spine.  It sank into the skin, fusing with the vertebrae there and sending wiring throughout the whole of the girl’s nervous system.

“Mom?  Mom!” Lena cried out.  “I can feel my toes!”

For the first time in years the paralized girl took a step on her own.

Somewhere in the depths of the station, the Courier limped away, smiling.

For Lena and her mother, she thought, Cloud City should be a beautiful place to live.

Hello!  This is fulfilling the “Hurts to Breathe” square for @badthingshappenbingo​

It’s was also part of a challenge for me to write “Environmental Whump” in an otherworldly venue.  I must confess that Cloud City is not my invention.  It belongs to the Star Wars universe and can be read about extensively on Wookiepedia.  I hope you’ll find that I did my research well.

Tagging some folks who were interested in this piece: @stoic-whumpee​, @untilthepainstarts​, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog​, @whumposaurus​, @burtlederp​, @straight-to-the-pain​

[artificialqueens]

ancolie (trixya) - PinkGrapefruit

A/N - she’s writing trixya? and lesbian au? at the same time? has she gone mad?

yes. yes i have. enjoy!

[for meggie, for being the best pseudo-mum a gal could ask for. chin up love, you’ve got this <3]

*

I can see us in a small town

You count the stars up in the sky

She pulls pink carnations together with yellow roses, hopes the message will meet in the middle as one of friendship and a woman’s love. It’s a candy-coloured wonderland of a bouquet with the colour mixing and melding like a fruit salad chew. They were always her favourites. She finds she has very little hope anyway but the pink of the carnations almost matches the pink of her dress and, god , she is smitten.

She retouches the red of her lipstick till it matches the roses they keep in the back of the store, lets its brightness give her a little bit of confidence as she heads out to finish opening up the shop. It’s small and quiet, opposite a patisserie owned by one of the softest people Katya has ever known. She’s just lovely. She creates tiny delicacies that have her mouth watering like nobody’s business, all sweet and saccharine sugar (a little bit like her). Katya cannot get enough.

She rolls a black glove onto her tattooed arm as she slowly and carefully fertilises the opening display. Across the street, she can see Trixie opening up shop a little earlier than usual (although they’ve both been there since five,  so she’s not hugely surprised.) Once she’s done, she ties a pastel pink ribbon around the base of the bouquet and walks it across the street, letting herself in with the spare key. They do their morning dance, an awkward shuffle around each other as (even three hours after getting there) neither are quite awake enough to face their relationship head on. Katya takes out yesterday’s flowers and places the bouquet in the vase on the counter, grins eagerly as Trixie boxes up the spoils of the morning - it’s a fair trade if it means Katya gets to see her face every day. With a shy smile, Trixie waves her out.

They’ve been doing this three years.

Never thought that they could fall down

Onto your suit or on the tie

She reckons she could buy a mortgage with the amount she’s wasted on these flowers, she thinks as she creates the morning bouquet. It’s all yellow today, chrysanthemums, tulips and poppies; precious, hope and success.

She waters the succulents with care only given to her plants and then sketches new tattoo ideas until she sees Trixie pull up the blinds of Yellow Cloud Patissiere - it’s an unspoken rule, helps keep them in check. She serves a couple of business people that she always gets on a Friday morning (she’s started opening earlier to catch them). They always need a bouquet for their wives, an apology for some sort of wrongdoing, and Katya can’t say she minds helping them as they bustle in, flustered and impatient. She has a blackboard behind the counter with ‘EMERGENCY FLOWERS’ scrawled onto it in cursive, it details the apology bouquets she does and their exact meanings - it’s gotten her a lot of coverage in the flower shop community, and she’s grateful for Trixie’s handwriting.

Once she’s decided she won’t look desperate, she heads over the road with a spring in her step, lets herself in and replaces the flowers. Trixie has decorated one of her fuckups with a red flower today and Katya is touched but also just really wants to eat it. She doesn’t say that.

She almost falls as she leaves and as the door swings shut behind her, she can hear Trixie’s cackle catch in the wind.

Across the table at a French place

I lose my way into the wine

She’s brainstorming dates on a Monday as she ties together the bouquet. It’s a French colour theme with blue roses, white lilacs, and red daisies completing the fantasy, and she loves it. She wants to take Trixie to Paris and stroll on the Champs-Élysées , taking their time, sipping wine meant for two as they stare out across the water. She wants to pick roadside flowers, weave a bunch with some grass and present it to her, make flower crowns, and tuck buttercups in the blonde’s hair when she is distracted. She wants to take her to an art gallery, the Louvre maybe, or the Centre Pompidou so they can stand a foot away from the paintings and examine them until they start laughing. She wishes more than anything that she could hold her tight against her in the cold evening air, watch the Eiffel light up at midnight and ring in a new day with her. She would do anything.

But instead, she dutifully arrives with the flowers, takes Trixie’s baking and leaves.

She tries a new truffle on her lunch break, hands smelling like fresh flowers and pesticide - the air thick with moisture that’s dripping down her back as the shop heats up like a greenhouse. It’s perfect for a florist, not so good for the sweatiest woman alive.

She opened ‘Fine and Dandy’ three months after finished college. She got a degree in design with a minor in business and to be honest they work pretty damn well for a woman who once said she wanted to become a shark gymnast - whatever that might be. Her parents hadn’t agreed at first but now she’s a thirty-three-year-old woman with an award-winning flower shop and she does it all herself - they’re proud of her. She’s proud of her.

The truffle tastes of gin and regret and it’s a little too close to home. The others are half melted - she bins them.

With your glasses on your pretty face

We can go up, baby we can float up

It’s a bouquet of forget-me-nots on a Saturday morning.

It’s a sprig of lime blossom surrounded by arum on a day where she just wants to make jokes. (fornication and purity - it’s days like these she hopes Trixie cannot read flowers)

It’s Asphodel, Basalm and Balsamine. (regret, ardent love and impatience)

Trixie’s pastries taste more and more like things she knows - like sorrow and sadness and hope. They taste like old cigarettes and new heartbreak, longing and desire and unrelenting pain. She wants to hold her tight, qualm the fears she bakes into her food because god knows it only takes a taste to see every little thing she’s poured into it. Katya’s been around long enough to know Trixie’s baking - she knows that she only uses blueberries on rainy days, that passionfruit is saved for deserved occasions and that grapefruit is a bad day.

Why does everything taste like grapefruit?

Say we’ll never come back down

To the place in the yellow cloud

Things go back to chocolate, vanilla and peach when the weather picks up and Katya’s bouquets get bigger and brighter as each month nears summer. A regular casually describes one as ‘carnival in a vase’ or so Trixie retells one morning as Katya snorts on her danish. The cinnamon is strong and so’s the girls’ humour, so she barely chokes it down before she has to gesture for water to clear her throat. Trixie’s cackling so hard though, that water begins to run out of Katya’s nose. It was a mistake she deems as she’s wiping the counter down from her nose-water. It was a mistake to ever start this - this… She falters in her thoughts. She doesn’t even know what this is; it’s never been discussed and yet she feels closer to the patisserie owner across the street than she does her roommate.

She would hesitate to call it love - then again she only knows love as pansies and cloves and gardenias.

She builds more apology bouquets for businessmen and asks them why they love their wives. None of them can give a straight answer and she begins to wonder if maybe that’s the point - love isn’t really a straight line - it sort of loops round and round and over itself. It slaloms around the major arteries and gets caught in the capillary net.

(She also asks a man who, it turns out, is buying for his mistress. It’s an apology for getting her pregnant but he gives the most straightforward answer out of the lot so she keeps it as a data point.)

Yours forever, thumbtack down

Ooh, ooh

Trixie comes into the shop at 6 p.m. on a Thursday in June. It seems like a negligible detail but Katya wants to remember it for the rest of her life. She hears the bell go about an hour after she flipped the closing sign, as she tidies the small shop away to make room for her Friday morning craziness. She comes to the counter with a purpose, requesting a bouquet that has Katya at a happy medium between screaming and sobbing (mentally of course).

She knows all the plants’ names, wants exactly what she wants and Katya blindly agrees until she takes a look at the bouquet and realises what she’s made. It’s good news, admiration, beauty, and love in all seasons. Devotion and an invitation to dance. (iris, gorse, heliotrope, hibiscus and viscaria)

It’s beautiful.

Trixie pays quickly with a shy smile and goes to leave the shop but she turns around before she reaches the door. Instead, she slowly walks back towards her with a steady step and a quiet grin. Katya has started to shake now, she knows what’s happening (or at least hopes she does) and she can’t tell if she wants to sob or scream - she does neither, it’s not the right time.

They meet between the ambrosia and the roses, Katya’s favourite aisle, the sun backlighting Trixie til she glows a soft gold. It casts a halo on her hair and Katya swears she’s never seen an angel look so beautiful.

Trixie hands her the bouquet wordlessly but her eyes, wet and happy, reflect all she doesn’t need to say. When they kiss, Trixie tastes like passionfruit and gin and hope - undying hope that glistens in the summer sun. She hopes it’s a flavour that will stay on her lips forever.

Say you’ll never come back down

To the place in the yellow cloud

[spidey-babe-parker]

Walk on Water or Drown

Chapter 6

The way she tells me I’m hers

Featuring: Bucky Barnes and a Plus Size Character

Warnings: Handjobs (male and female receiving )

Summary: Bucky and Zoey try to navigate how to make their relationship work once the baby comes.

A/N: The next chapter should be up monday. After I finish this series the following one is going to be Bucky vs Steve AU story.

story masterlist

PART ONE . PART TWO . PART THREE . PART FOUR . PART FIVE . PART SIX . PART SEVEN . PART EIGHT .

We were walking this really thin line that was filled with sexual tension. We weren’t having sex but we had started making out like teenagers. I sure as hell wanted more from him and I’m pretty sure he wanted to actually have sex, but we were tempting to take it slow.

When he walked in from work I was caught off guard by his busted lip he had. I rushed over to him and rested my hand on his scruff covered cheek examining the cut.

“What happened?” I asked. He always did different types of training with Steve and the rest of the Avengers but he had never came home before with a busted lip.

“Natasha kicked the shit out of me,” he sighed tilting his cheek towards my touch.

“Let’s go to the bathroom and I’ll clean you up,” I said reaching down slowly to grabbed his metal hand.

Bucky was leaning against the bathroom wall while I was in the medicine cabinet getting out peroxide and some cotton pads. I signaled for him to come towards me. I poured the peroxide onto a cotton pad and worked on cleaning up his cut lip.

“She really a good job on your lip,” I sighed.

“I would say you should see her but you know she kicked my ass in this training exercise,” he said causing me to smile. Bucky was a trained super solider so it was rare he ever really got hurt, but if anyone could probably catch him off guard in a fight it would be Natasha. “I want Steve to know about this,” he said pointing between the two of us. “He’s my best friend I hate him not knowing we’re having a baby” he reached down slowly and rest his hands on my round stomach.

I couldn’t help the smile that formed on my face. This was the first time he ever brought up anyone knowing about us. We had been living in this bubble for so long I was excited for people to know about this strange life we had built.

“I would love for him to know. You could have him come over and we could have dinner,” I squeezed his hand.

“I know I’m probably over stepping my bounds right now, but did you have any names picked out for the baby,” he looked down at my stomach and had a confused look on his face. I think he still had issues wrapping his mind around the fact that I was growing a life in me that we had created.

“Kind of,” I sighed. For some reason I hadn’t really ever thought about what life was going to be in like a little over two months when the baby came.

“Can I hear some?” he asked sitting down on the toilet.

I nodded my head, “if it’s a girl I like the name Elizabeth Jane.”

“That’s really pretty. Have you thought of a boy name?” he asked tilting his head to the side.

I nodded my head again I was oddly nervous to tell him the name I had picked out. “Mason Buchanan,” I said softly. I had made the choice to give him the same middle name as Bucky, but I wasn’t exactly sure what was going to happen when the baby was born. I didn’t know if he was going to be in the baby’s life.

He pushed his eyebrows together and gave me a smile, “you would name the baby after me?”

“Bucky, I don’t know what’s going to happen when this baby comes but I want the baby to have just a little piece of you,” I felt really nervous confessing this.

Reaching up slowly he gently rested his flesh hand on my stomach and looked up at me with caring eyes. He rarely ever touched my stomach, I think it had to do with his fear of hurting me and the baby, but his touch was so gentle.

“I know our relationship is really weird and I have been distant but I want to make this work, and I want to be in the baby’s life.”

“I can’t hide away forever from everything,” I let out a heavy sigh because we both knew this couldn’t work forever. At some point my family was going to find out Bucky was the father and his teammates were going to have to know.

“Clint has a family and from what I heard nobody knows about them other than the team and her family.”

I stepped away from him and leaned against the counter. I was trying to figure out what he was trying to say. “What does that mean for us?” I asked almost afraid of what his answer was going to be.

He ran this metal fingers through his long hair as he paused for a moment. “I guess it means we’ll get a real place outside of town and you can tell your family and the avengers will know.”

“Why do I feel like there is a but,” I knew there had to be something else that this couldn’t be that easy.

“We’ll make it where there is no documented proof I’m the baby’s father. I don’t want that to ever get out. Hydra is still out there and a lot of Hydra still thinks I’m theirs to control. I don’t want them to use you and our baby to get me.”

I knew he was looking out for me but it still hurt like hell that he wouldn’t be on the birth certificate. I took a deep breath trying to process what he had said. It was just a piece of paper I shouldn’t care, but deep down I did.

“Please don’t hate me,” he reached for my hand. Part of me wanted to smack his hand away but I knew he made the plan so our child and I would be safe. He was only trying to protect me and our baby.

“Bucky I can’t hate you.” I wasn’t lying to him, I could never actually hate him.

He stood up and took a large step towards me and wrapped his arms around me pulling me into his chest. My very round stomach put a quite the distance between us and the hug.

“When Steve comes over we’ll work out the plan.”

I sighed knowing this was how it was going to have to be. He wanted to keep us safe and this was honestly going to be the best way.

“Bucky did you ever actually want kids?” I whispered. I probably shouldn’t ask because the answer would most likely hurt me, but I had to know how much I messed up his life.

He pulled away from me quickly and looked at me with a really confused look on his face. “Back in the forties I wanted the all-American dream a wife and kids a big house, but when Hydra captured me and turned me into the Winter Solider and Steve had to save me…” he hesitated. I knew this was hurting him to talk about this. “I guess I didn’t think they were an option anymore. With me being brain washed and turned into a super Solider I never expected to be intimate with anyone ever again. You were the first person I had slept with since the forties.”

I couldn’t believe he was being so honest with me. He thought Hydra took every chance he had a normal life away him.

“Bucky,” I reached up and rested my hand on his cheek again and he gave me a soft smile.

“I’m trying to have that normal life with you. I know I haven’t been showing to you that I want this, but I can’t wait to be a father.”

I couldn’t help but smile and tear up at the fact he said he couldn’t wait to be a father, and that he wanted a family with me.

“So, what this about me being the first person you slept with since the forties?” I joked.

He rolled his blue eyes and laughed, “We’re not talking about that right now.”

“That’s not fair,” I laughed.

He didn’t bother saying anything he just leaned down and pressed his lips to mine.

Pulling away from my lips he said, “I think I need to take my shower now.”

Stepping away from he took off his long sleeve shirt and sat it on the counter. I stared at him wanting to ask to join him but I was honestly terrified he would reject me. We had just shared and emotional moment, but he was still terrified of hurting me.

“Hey Bucky?” I shyly asked.

He worked on unbuttoning his jeans and looked up at me, “yeah Zoey?”

My heart was going at a million miles an hour, “can I join?”

He was silent for a moment before he slowly nodded his head, “Yeah.”

I watched as he swallowed and took a step towards me and reached for my oversized shirt I was wearing. Pulling my shirt off he stared at me intently. I reached behind and unclasped my bra.

“I didn’t realize how big your boobs have gotten,” he said staring at my boobs shocked. This was going to be the first time in like six months he had seen me fully naked. I also always wore a bra now because they were too big for my liking. I was already big chested girl with d’s and since getting pregnant they got even bigger.

“Yeah they’re huge now,” I awkwardly joked grabbing them.

He stepped away from me again and reached over to turn on the shower. Turning back toward me he worked on getting out of his jeans, and I took that as my cue to get out of my legging.

He reached over to see if the water was hot enough and stepped out of his boxers and stepped into the shower. I stood there topless in only my undies for a moment just gathering the courage to get in with him. It wasn’t like this was the first time he was seeing me naked. I was a plus size girl before getting pregnant and he had no issue getting me naked and basically kissing my whole body. For some reason the fact that I was pregnant just made me feel awkward. Slowly I stepped out of my undies.

“Come on,” he said reaching his hand out from the shower curtain.

Taking his hand, I slowly stepped into the shower and I couldn’t help but admire his tone naked body. This man was made of stone and I don’t think I was ever going to get over it.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said as his blue eyes traveled up and down my body.

“I can’t believe you agreed to go out with me,” he smiled.

I had never expected Bucky and Steve to start coming into my bookstore, let alone have Bucky randomly asked me out. The whole time we were dating we had sex constantly so can’t say I’m exactly shocked we made a child.

“I couldn’t believe you asked me out.”

“I had to do it before Steve did,” he said causing me to laugh.

Leaning over he connected his lips to mine again. We started making out like a bunch of teenagers and he grabbed as my ass pulling me closer to him. I couldn’t help but let out a little giggle at his erection poking my stomach. He pulled away grinning, “can I touch your boobs because I’m dying to get my hands on them?” he asked with his eyes locked on my large boobs.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. He just answered the age-old question of if he was an ass or boobs man.

“Go for it,” I said with a little laugh.

Gently he reached up and started massaging them. I bit my bottom lip and watched as he brought his lips to them and started kissing the top of them. Before I knew it, he had one of my nipples in his mouth swirling his tongue around it. I couldn’t help but moan at then sensation. His lips on my skin were intoxicating.

I took the bold step of reaching in between us and started stroking his hard length. I closed my eyes enjoying the feeling of his lips on me while I tried to pleasure him. He took his bottom lip between his teeth as he looked at me with hooded eyes.

He moaned my name and slowly bit my nipple causing me to moan.

One of his hands left my breast and traveled down my stomach to sensitive mound. I sighed anticipating his finger touching me. He dipped his flesh finger into my slit and I moaned. With his lips still on my chest his fingers worked on me while stroked him.

I could tell he was getting close when he pulled his lips away from me and stared at me through hooded eyes. We stared deeply into each other’s eyes for a long moment before he crashed his lips into mine as I felt him come in my hand. He dipped his fingers into my core a few times before sending me over the edge.  Leaning back against the shower wall we both just stared trying to catch our breath.

“Let me wash you off,” he said signaling for me to come closer.

I didn’t say anything I just nodded. He reached over and grabbed a wash cloth and slowly started cleaning my body.

“I can’t thank you enough for being patient with me.”

We didn’t do anything else in the shower. We got out together and Bucky helped dry me off. We decided to end the night by ordering Chinese food and watching a movie in bed.

Lying in bed on my side I had my head resting on Bucky’s chest while I stared at the tv. He had his hand on my back gently rubbing his thumb up and down. We laid there in complete bliss you could never tell a couple of weeks ago we couldn’t even share a bed.

“I want to meet your family,” he said catching my off guard.

I pulled away from him quickly and looked up at him very confused on why he suddenly wanted to meet my family.

“You want to do what?”

“You said you a couple of days ago you were going over Lyla and Henry’s for dinner and I thought maybe I could come.” He said it like it was no big deal. Like it just causally time for him to meet the family.

“Are you sure about that?” I didn’t want him jumping into this just to please me. I’m pretty Lyla was going to rake him across the coals. I was also going to have to explain this whole wild situation to my family.

“I want to meet them and get to know them for you and baby,” he smiled as he pushed a piece of hair behind my ear.

“Alright, in the morning I will call and explain the situation to Lyla and my mom and then you can come over for family dinner

We seemed to be working on having a normal relationship together, and I couldn’t be happier.

Tag list: @thisismysecrethappyplace @chipilerendi @minahraven @sideeffectsofyou

[sunnybugz]

only fools

chapter: i

word count: 2115

authors note: hi losers, welcome to the first chapter of my new fanfic, it’s dianetti because i am dianetti trash. it’s also a highschool au because i am a teenager and do not know how the real word works. hope u like it!!! i will be posting it on ao3 once my account request finally comes back (by the end of this week!!) lets get to it i guess???

11:38 AM, Brooklyn Academy High cafeteria

Rosa sat at their lunch table, eating her sandwich. By their, she meant her the table that had belonged to her and her best friends since ninth grade. Her best friends being Jake Peralta, Amy Santiago, Charles Boyle, and of course, the one and only Gina Linetti. They were all so amazingly different yet fit together so well. Jake was the dark-haired, brown-eyed, absolutely hilarious (and absolutely childish at times) boy sitting at the top right of their table. He was a total idiot a lot of the time, but was amazing at solving puzzles and problems. He also had an intense love for Die Hard and drinks that were the colour blue. Amy, however, was the beautiful, smart and organized Cuban girl sitting across from Rosa. She was so put together all the time, but was also really goofy and cute when not under watch from everyone else. Her favourite things in the world were probably binders, essays, and her boyfriend, Jake. Charles was the brown-haired, clumsy, goofball who sat beside Amy. He was a total dork who was far too obsessed with his friends relationships, but was truly the most kind and caring person any of them have met in their entire life. He loved to cook too, and often brought some weird food that he made the night before for all of them to try (which often ended terribly, but they were thankful for the effort). And then there was Gina Linetti. Gina was gorgeous, with auburn hair and blue eyes, and she was a lot shorter than Rosa. She was silly and sarcastic and treated herself like she was the queen of the world (which she basically was in Rosa’s eyes). She also cared about her friends more than anything in the world (other than maybe her phone).

The group hadn’t always been as close as they were now though. Jake and Gina had been best friends probably since birth, because their families were super close. Charles and Jake became best friends in the third grade after being assigned desk partners and realizing they were an amazing team when it came to cheating on spelling tests. Amy had come along in seventh grade, when she moved to their area and became part of their class. Rosa joined the gang in the middle of grade eight, when she was new at their school and Gina was the only one who would actually come up to her despite her scary exterior. From then on, they had been a power team, and probably one of the closest, drama free friend groups in their entire high school. They supported each other through everything (even in tenth grade when Amy made the idiotic decision to date Teddy Wells, and to get over his enormous crush on her, Jake dated Sophia  Perez. They realized it was stupid and started dating within a few months). It was nice to just have people who genuinely loved Rosa for who she was, even if that person was an angry, bisexual, all-black-wearing, eighteen year old girl.

It was in that moment when Rosa realized she had been spacing out for the past 45 seconds.

“Hello? I know my girlfriend is hot but there’s no need to stare,” Jake teases while throwing a french fry at Rosa’s head. She rolls her eyes and throws it back.

“Yeah, Rosa, I’m totally the one you should be staring at right now, I mean, look at me!” Gina joins in. At this one, unlike Jake’s teasing, Rosa feels her face heat up. If she had been consciously staring, it definitely would have been at Gina. Of course, she would never say that out loud. Nobody could ever know about her top-secret crush on the auburn haired dancer. Except unknown to Rosa, literally everyone knew except for Gina. Jake and Amy had placed a $20 bet on whether Rosa would ask her out by Valentine’s day. Jake thought Rosa totally would, because she’s been obsessed with her since like, eighth grade, but Amy thought that if Rosa still hasn’t made a move after four and a half years, what would all of a sudden compel her to do so? Charles would always ‘accidentally’ make situations where the two of them ended up alone, but instead of ending up with them confessing their undying love for each other and then promptly making out like everyone hoped it would, it would always end with Rosa stumbling over her words when Gina did or said something cute (re: every five seconds). Rosa thought she was an amazing secret keeper, but it turns out Gina was just oblivious to the rest of the world when she wasn’t being mentioned.

Before Rosa could answer, the bell rang. Everyone quickly got up to race to their next class. “Want me to walk you to class?” asked Gina.

“Gina, it’s English. We’re in the same class. We literally sit beside each other.” Rosa said.

“Fine! I guess I’ll walk alone!” Gina said dramatically. Rosa smiled a huge, dorky smile that she didn’t do for anyone other than Gina.

“I never said I wanted that,” Rosa laughed. Gina turned back to her, smiling her cute smile that Rosa saw in her dreams every night without fail.

“Proven again, Gina Linetti is absolutely irresistible to the ladies!”, Gina said far too loudly.

She isn’t wrong, though, Rosa thought.

2:34 PM, Brooklyn Academy High

The rest of the school day goes by quite uneventfully. Everyone is anticipating the end of the day, when casting in the spring musical comes out. Their schools musicals are written every year by an ex-student at their school, Terry Jeffords. They’ve always been love stories, and Jake and Amy have respectively played the lead male and female every year without fail. This year though, that won’t happen. Mainly because it’s a musical about homophobia, and if Jake and Amy were playing lesbians, the school would have a lot of issues to figure out. However, there is a specific someone who also auditioned for the girlfriend of the character Rosa auditioned for. Rosa auditioned to play Lola, the female lead, a lesbian who has recently come out at her Catholic school and is threatened with expulsion, and Gina auditioned for the role of June, Lola’s girlfriend who is yet to come out. However, Rosa doesn’t think she could ever get the part. Gina will almost 100% get June, but there was a bunch of girls going for the part of Lola. Not as many as there usually are for the lead role (most girls weren’t up to playing a lesbian), but still a fair amount.

When 2:40 finally comes, any drama kid races to the auditorium. They all sit in chairs, Rosa snagging a spot between Gina, who has decided to live stream the casting, and Amy, who is holding Jake’s hand tightly. They’re all on the edge of their seats waiting for Director Holt to come in and read the casting list. When he finally walks in at 2:46, the room goes silent.

“I know you’ve all been waiting for a week and a half since auditions, and I apologize for leaving you all to wonder. However, I now have the casting list, and I’m sure you would all like to hear it.” he says. Yes! Of course they want to hear it!

“I will be reading out the main cast. As you all know, any person not given a main role will be given a role as an extra,” Holt says. Rosa prays that isn’t referring to her. She’s never been an extra, but from the sounds of it, it absolutely sucks. “First off, playing the role of Madam Wringer, the headmistress, will be Sophia Perez,” he reads. First announcement is quite awkward, as this means Jake will most likely have his ex-girlfriend as his co-star.

“The role of Lola’s brother, Henry, will be played by Charles Boyle,”. Yay for Charles! It’s no surprise he got the role, he’s a great actor and is good for both dramatic scenes and comedic relief.

“The role of Lola’s father will be played by none other than Jake Peralta,” reads Director Holt. No surprise there, Jake got the leading male.

“Lola’s mother will be played by Amy Santiago.”. Amy and Jake look at each other with heart eyes. Of course they’re playing a married couple.

“Finally, we’re onto our two leading lady roles. June, the girlfriend will be played by Gina Linetti, and finally, Lola will be played by Rosa Diaz.”

Gina turns to Rosa with her phone. “Babe, we’re girlfriends!”. Rosa freezes for a second before smiling hugely. She tries not to make it obvious the effect that the little pet name has on her, and if Gina notices, she doesn’t say anything.

Rosa is also in shock because she got the female lead! She’s never been the lead, as Amy has always scored the role. Gina ends her live stream with a “Bye, losers!”, and turns back to the group. “I say this calls for celebratory pizza!”. The group cheers, and all feel even happier knowing that they get to go to Sal’s pizza afterwords.

“Our first read through will be tomorrow after school, and we will be rehearsing daily. I expect us to start blocking soon, so you all must practice as often as you can,” Holt says. “I expect no nonsense with this production. You are all experienced actors, and you all know how a play works. Read over your scripts tonight!”. Once they all have their scripts, everyone heads out the door.

“Rosa, how does it feel to get the privilege of playing the love interest of someone as wonderful as me? I’ve never had the experience, please describe in detail.” Gina says, smirking. Rosa shakes her head and smiles.

“It’s wonderful Gina, but I think with the amount of love you have for yourself you wouldn’t have to ask,” Rosa retorts.

“It’s called confidence, bitch! Look it up!” Gina jokes, hitting Rosa lightly on the back of her head.

“Ooh, two lovebirds having a quarrel! Who will win, or will it end in a kiss?” Charles says. The two of them roll their eyes.

“We aren’t lovebirds, Charles! We aren’t even likebirds! We’re just… friendbirds! That’s right, they’re a real thing! You’ve just never heard of them!” Rosa defends.

“Yeah, Charles! Also, Rosa, I truly care about you but if you call me a bird again, I will not hesitate to throw you in front of a bus. I’m clearly a wolf.” Gina says. Rosa rolls her eyes.

“Okay, stop flirting, I want pizza!” Jake complains. Amy lets out a breathy laugh while shaking her head.

“We aren’t flirting!”, Gina and Rosa say in unison.

8:19 PM, Rosa Diaz’s Bedroom

Rosa is looking over her script for the first time, while lying in bed. She’s changed out of her black jeans, navy blue t-shirt, and leather jacket, and now wears flannel pyjama pants and a black tank top. She’s about halfway through the script, when she sees a line that catches her eye.

LOLA AND JUNE SHARE A SOFT, LOVING KISS

Rosa re-reads the line about five times to see if it’s right. Lo and behold, the line remains the same. Rosa feels giddy with nerves. She’s going to kiss Gina Linetti. For a play, but that means nothing to her. She doesn’t care what she’s doing it for, as long as she is kissing that girl. Rosa giggles - actually giggles- at the thought. Just then, she gets a text from Jake.

Jake: haha looks like sum1’s wishes are coming tru ;)

Rosa: shut up, jake. i’m totally not into her that way.

(Rosa is definitely into her that way)

Jake: okayyyy sure. explain y u look at her the way u do.

Rosa: how do i look at her?

Jake: like ur in loveeeee

Rosa: ugh, i am NOT in love. she’s just hot, ok??? i'm not one of those lovey-dovey freaks like u and amy

Jake: that’s what i said before i dated amy but ok

Rosa: no, u literally said ‘i would marry amy santiago without hesitation, whether that’s at a huge mansion or in an actual dumpster’

Jake: welp, u got me there.

Rosa rolls her eyes and shuts her phone off. She doesn’t have to tell people about her personal feelings. Emotions were gross, in her opinion. Unless they were emotions about Gina, which were absolutely amazing. However, those were secret feelings. Nobody is supposed to know about that.

That night, Rosa has some very good dreams about Gina Linetti.

[rla1994]

Chapter 7

And here is number 7

again: I don’t own anything

Enjoy~~

Enough time had passed since the first day of training, enough that Kanon deemed it acceptable to not supervise them anymore. Isaac had noticed that ever since they had all been approved as full-fledged fighters, the sea dragon had been less and less present. He once had spent days in the human world, keeping an eye on the Heavens. The only you could be sure he would be in Atlantis was when Rhadamanthys came. The reason why Hades had switched Aiacos with Rhadamanthys was unknown to all of them. The god of the underworld had just said that the blonde demon was more adequate. As for why Kanon was always there when the judge came by, there were two reasons: one, he was the general of the army, he had to be there to great such an important guest. And two, everyone could see the attraction that had developed between the two from the moment they first officially met. It was frustrating. It had been going on for months! Even Poseidon was trying to get them to be together, but no, even that had not worked! It’s like they were dealing with two monkeys! Two really, really big, stupid monkeys!

Isaac groaned. Just thinking about it irritated him. Who would have thought that two expert strategists could be so dumb when it came to feelings. Come to think of it, Kanon had again left for the human world. While it was nice to not have him on their backs every single second of the day. The fallen had grown more and more distant over time, almost as if he didn’t want to get to attached to them. But why? The angel groaned again and sat down in one of his sofas.

Meanwhile Kanon was sitting at a table outside of a small bakery that also offered coffee. He was enjoying a cup of coffee, black, and a pastry. He looked at the clear blue sky, activating his celestial vision which allows him to see the Heavens and the angels that were flying around under the cover of their energy. It made them invisible to the human eye. Any other demon, nephilim or angel that did not know exactly how the Heavens worked would not have noticed the changes. But Kanon did and it worried him. His plan was not ready. If Saga decided to act now, he would win. Or at least as much as he could, seeing as nobody had found Athena yet. Poseidon and Hades had a few ideas, sure, but they still hesitated about which one of the three girls they had found was Athena. First was a small village girl called Sasha, the second one was a rich heiress named Saori and the last one was another rich heiress called Angelika. Kanon had been sent to watch over Saori and get to know her more to determine if she was Athena or not. And that’s what he was doing right now. He was waiting for the girl to come for their weekly shopping date. It had been surprisingly easy to befriend her once he had changed his usual appearance for that a normal height brunette. 

He remembered when he had explained to Isaac and Thetis that they could use their energy not only to change appearances like the nephilims could, but also their genders which the half-blooded could not. Isaac had blushed while Thetis had smiled mischievously. Kano had decided then and there that he really liked their resident mermaid. Isaac’s reaction, on the other hand, he could understand. Camus and Milo had probably once or twice used that ability to spice up their nights and had not pay any attention to the redhead’s trainees, probably thinking they would be asleep. Amusement aside, he had taken quite a while to teach them how to do it. 

“Klara!” A young purple haired woman called out to the angel sitting at the table.  “I hope I didn’t make you wait to long.” She said to her companion. Klara smiled at her. “Of course not. And besides, you know I don’t mind waiting here: the coffee is just delicious.” Saori liked how honest her friend was with her. It was refreshing to have someone who was not her friend just for her money. She sat down in front of her and ordered a latte and a small strawberry cake. While enjoying their pastries, both girls talked about their day before leaving the bakery to go shopping for the rest of the day.

Rhadamanthys was apparently not enjoying his day as was the object of his affection. He had been tasked with keeping an eye on the third girl, Angelika. She could not be Athena. She was haughty and had deemed him unworthy of her presence when they had been introduced. Like every demon he had a human ‘family’ which provided alibis for when they had to interact with humans. He had used that connection which turned out to be really useful. The girl came from a rich family as did he. The only reason he was still there was because his family was more important than hers and the fact that he had been the only man to ever be interested in her. But with her attitude, he could understand. He could not wait for the mission to finish. 

He sighed quietly to himself as he walked beside the girl. “Are you alright, Mr. Walden? If you are unwell, perhaps you should consider returning back to your home to rest.” While her tone was considered, her eyes held the hope that he would leave her parents’ domain, and her consequently. “I was just thinking about how of a disappointment the weather was, Miss Hienstein.” Her disappointment was a clear on her face as was the chaperon following them and making sure they did not do anything not befitting of their status. Although he was not doing a good job at watching them, the demon supposed it was because of the lack of interest towards the family’s heir. He had changed his appearance to befit someone her age, but he could have also gone in his normal form and look about ten years older and the family would not have had a problem. The judge looked in front of him again. She was obviously not Athena, but she had an aura of an immortal. Perhaps she was a demigoddess? He did not know. He Had made par of his observation to his god and Hades had told him to keep a watch on her until everything was ready to proceed with the plan. He just hoped he could get out of here soon.

The third and last girl, Sasha, had been watched over by Rune, one of Minos’s men. He had, after only a few days watch, said that she could not be Athena and left. 

Which only left Saori as possible Athena reincarnation. They all knew it and they had all decided to wait until they were ready to go to war, to tell her. No matter how frustrated Kanon and Rhadamanthys grew. 

The days went by and turned into weeks and weeks turned into months while neither Poseidon nor Hades made a move. Kanon could not hold it anymore. He did not want to wait any longer and decided to act on his own. First, he needed a way inside the Heavens. He couldn’t ask Milo. Camus wouldn’t let him. And Isaac was, like him, not prevented anymore. He may have left willingly but he still left. He just had remained an angel compared to Kanon. That only left one possible option. He had hoped not to have to do it. Kanon concentrated. Eyes closed, breathing steady, he searched the four known worlds for one specific energy. It took him a couple of hours and a lot of energy to find who he wanted to find. He immediately teleported to him. The him in question was a tall brunette with dark blue eyes. He was in the human world for a mission. That man was his brother’s best friend, and possibly lover he had never been able to find out, the guardian angel of the Sagittarius, Aioros. 

Kanon appeared behind him. The angel was busy watching over a couple, one of them being his affected human. He sighed when he felt the other’s presence. He didn’t turn around but Kanon knew he was paying attention. “I need passage into the Heavens.” The fallen immediately went straight to business. “You’re going to stop Saga, aren’t you?” The sadness in the angel’s voice was almost too much to bear for Kanon. He knew how close Aioros was to his brother. That’s why he only wanted it to go to him as last resort. Because it would hurt him. So, he just nodded knowing the other was watching his every move even if he didn’t look like it. Aioros took a deep breath before finally turning around and extended a hand to his lover’s brother. The energy the angel send towards was calm and peaceful. It wrapped around Kanon’s right arm. It went onto his skin to form a tattoo. It looked like a leather band with feathers hanging from it.

“Thanks.” Kanon was about to leave when the older one stopped him. The look in his eyes said everything. Kanon nodded. He would not have it any other way. “Hey, I know I’m probably asking to much, but could you watch over someone for me?” At Aioros’s raised eyebrow, Kanon developed. “We think she might be, more like is, Athena’s reincarnation.” His companion opened his eyes wide and agreed immediately. The fallen felt a bit bad for using the angel’s undying loyalty to his goddess like that. Kanon soon left the other alone to go look for the next item on his list. 

Back in the Underworld, Rhadamanthys had finally, finally, been allowed to leave the girl’s side and return to what had been his home for the last hundreds of milenas. He was working in the Hall of Judgement with Minos, Aiacos having been on sick-leave ever since his return from Atlantis. Nobody had yet figured out what had happened. The only thing they knew was that his memories had been stolen and replaced with false ones, but none of the gods the garuda had seen had been able to give even the slightest hint towards the identity of the culprit. It was a mystery. In his stead was Kagaho, a relatively new addition to their army, he had soon proved his valor by being the one to last the longest against one of the judges. He had consequently been affected to Aiacos’s division as his right-hand man. If only his temper was as good as his fighting abilities. Indeed, the youngster had some serious anger issues. He had more than once caused serious injuries to other demons because of some little misunderstanding. Hades was the only one who could calm him down. But recently, the bennu had been seen listening to Aiacos. The judge had even managed to calm him down once which could be seen as some kind of miracle.

He was calmly working alongside his co-workers then, when he felt it. This sudden unpleasant feeling took over his body and soul, leaving him unbearably cold. He stopped working and concentrated trying to find where this feeling was coming from. He could feel it deep inside himself but at one point it somehow left his body, as if it actually belonged to someone else. He stood up urgently, ordered a nearby demon to get Valentine, his right-hand man. He summoned his armor and left the Underworld, leaving everyone confused as to why the stoic judge had left in such a hurry.

1) Okay, so I know Kanon is a man, but seeing as he has taken the appearance of a girl, I will refer to him as she/her as to not confuse, not only myself, but also you, readers. When I will switch back to He/him, it will mean he is back to his male form.

2) yes, Klara with a K exists. And it’s Kanon’s female name in case you hadn’t understood.

3) I don’t know if it’s Aiolos or Aioros?

Done! I think I’m going to do 15 chapters. I don’t know if I’m going to make sequel or not.

Below ao3 link: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17670578/chapters/41930735

[debu-neko-kun]

12XL: One Size Fits All

This was a commission for somebody on Discord. I was given the prompt “Guy grows huge from magic underwear” and, well, we have this! One of my favorite growth methods, I gotta say. Anyway, enjoy a slender Korean lad growing quite large. 

Kae yawned and stretched his slender arms, squinting against the bright sun as he awoke. Despite the rays on his pale, freckled skin, he shivered like an ice storm bore down on him and shuffled to the bathroom on zombie-like autopilot. The light above the sink flickered as he waited for the bathtub to fill, his tailbone pressing uncomfortably against the seat cover of the toilet. Just as well, he thought as he stared at the same thin, sunken features as always. Sharp, boring jaw lines, a sharp chin, piercing blue eyes. Narrow, cold, lacking… something. But what? As he sank into the warm water, he pondered this. What could possibly make him love himself? What push, nudge, poke in the right direction could he possibly find? He had a nice job, a decent apartment, time enough for himself. Sure, he didn’t exactly have an insane amount of friends… or any… and sure, his love life was lacking… severely… but what was stopping him from just going out and finding somebody? He had options! There was Steve in accounting… no, he was with Brad, right. Tom, in publishing? Zip, he was straight as an arrow. John? Forget it. Kae sank deeper into the steamy bath water, out of the stream of morning light. There was only really one man he wanted… “Don’t think about it.” he murmured to himself. Too late. James. The name curled around his mind tight as a noose, bringing a fresh red flush to his cheeks. He’d first laid eyes on the gentle creature nearly a month ago, after a particularly tiresome night at work. Muscles too weak to craft a meal from the fridge, he’d ordered out: a small pizza. When it arrived, he’d expected the same variety of highschool punk. Instead, he’d opened the door to find a cute, flustered, slightly-overweight cupid staring back at him. “Oh, uhm… hello there. Kae, publishing.” He’d smiled, offering his hand to the confused worker. “Uh, hey. Guess this is for you, Mr. Kae. Enjoy.” He responded softly, lips curling into a slight smile as he placed the pizza into his outstretched hand. “Yes… right, thank you. Goodbye.” And that was that. One awkward meeting on his doorstep and his heart was sent reeling, rolling into an abyss that bowled any thoughts of work for the next several days. Was this what a crush felt like? There was never any time for them before now, only flings, but something about James sparked a flame in his lonely heart. A few days later, hungry and bored, he skimmed through the advertisements on the community page, spotting the same pizza place he’d ordered from a few nights earlier. They weren’t far, and the food was good…   Before he could consider other options, Kae was already at the front counter, ordering a medium cheese from a 400 lb highschooler. He gave him a smile and waddled to the back while Kae found a seat, and that’s when he saw it: The kiss. James, pizza boy James, cupid James, “Would you like a coffee with me?” James, wrapped up in the arms of a man at least five times his weight, exchanging soft, passionate kisses beneath the neon light of the arcade games in the corner. The lights stained the memory pink, made his stomach flip just thinking about it. The way James grabbed his overflowing backfat, the way their chubby chins pushed and rubbed together, the way their massive thighs intertwined… Kae submerged his head beneath the lukewarm water in the present. Be happy for him, he thought. You were just too late. Too late and not his type. Just as he thought his eyes would explode from holding in hot tears, the buzzer sounded out at the door. Kae quickly surfaced and slipped out of the tub, wrapping himself in an absorbent blue bathrobe before rushing off to the door, just as the buzzer rang again. “Who is it?” he asked, holding down the call button. “Delivery!” sang a voice from below, high and excited. “Delivery? I didn’t order anything. You must have the wrong house-” “One package for a mister Kae Chi-gon, 8th floor, Room 255. Special delivery, I need a signature please!” Kae sighed and leaned his head against the buzzer panel. “Come on up. It’s unlocked.” He heard a boyish giggle before letting up on the button, moving to unlock the door. Before he could even slide the latch back, a tiny knock rapped at his door. “What the-” he started, quickly pulling the door open to reveal a short, wide-hipped boy in what appeared to be some sort postal uniform, only far more gothic. Kae’s eyes were immediately drawn to the black khaki shorts that snugged tight against his bottom, doing nothing to slim the basketball butt and thick hips, only serving to accentuate his unnaturally pale thighs that bulged against his striped knee-high socks. “Allow me to introduce myself, mortal man! My name is P.M. Crowe, with the Incubus Delivery Service. I couldn’t help but feel your heart breaking, and deemed it necessary to invoke my services to get it back to tip top shape!” Kae squinted at the boy as he stood in the doorway, hand on one hip, his other slender arm clutching a box decorated with gold foil. “Is this some kind of prank? Did somebody at the office send you?” he scoffed. “I don’t think it’s very funny, now if you’ll excuse me-” Kae moved to shut the door, but Crowe quickly grabbed the edge of the frame. “W-Wait, don’t shut me out yet!” he begged, his tiny demon wing hair clip clinking against the door. “I can give you anything you want!” “I don’t want anything you can give, now go away!” he grunted, pushing harder on the door. “James is single!” Kae suddenly stopped pushing, heart catching in his throat. “…What did you just say?” With a little grunt, Crowe slipped his way inside, walking around to face Kae who now leaned with his back to the door. He took a moment to dust off his varsity jacket and straighten the tie beneath before continuing. “James is single. His boyfriend of three months left him, and he’s been rather sad. Heartbroken, actually, like you… which is why I’m here. To bring you two together and patch up some hearts!” “Yeah, well, good luck with that. I’ve seen his type. They’re… heftier… and look at me.” Kae gestured, pulling back his robe to reveal his ribs. “Not exactly a perfect match.” “You know, it’s not about-” Crowe began, but stopped as his watch beeped. “Oh great, I’m already behind schedule! Come on, man; sign for the package, and I can give you something to help with everything. Promise!” Kae eyed him suspiciously, arms crossed across his slender chest. “…Fine. Got a pen?” Crowe lit up like a match and produced a golden pen from his pocket. “I promise you won’t regret it! It’s the code of every Incubus Delivery Service postal worker to fix, mend, and otherwise bring light back into the hearts of the sullen, whether it’s by bringing together true love or creating a new one! And I, P.M. Crowe, promise to-” “Done. Didn’t you have somewhere to be?” Kae huffed. “Oh, right! Here’s your box, and remember to always be true to yourself! Gotta go, be seeing you, Mr. Kae!” Crowe called out as he squeezed past Kae and ran out the door, which quickly closed by itself, leaving behind a comical puff of pink smoke.   Kae stood for a few moments, box under his arm, trying to process what just happened. Incubus? James? This is all too bizarre… could anything he said have really been true? Only one way to find out. Kae cautiously peeled the tape back, letting the cardboard flaps spring open. Too dark to see inside, he put his hand in and grabbed a clump of thick fabric, pulling it out to the light. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” he sighed, letting the box fall to the floor. In his hands, stretched out further than his body spanned, was a pair of white briefs big enough to wrap around a couch. The tag on the back was nothing but a dozen Xs and an L, a testament to their size, surely signing itself as nothing more than a gag gift. Flipping them around, he could see a massive heart print on the back, hanging loosely like a spent parachute. “That little…” he began, lips tightening in frustration. Suddenly, he stopped himself letting out a long, breezy exhale. “Don’t lose it, Kae. Just some… weird little punk from the pizza place, an elaborate prankster. Unless- no, no.” he shook his head, retreating to his bedroom with the garment still clutched to his fingers. He quickly set to work, laying out his clothing for the day: one pair of black socks, one pressed shirt, slacks… …and an empty underwear drawer. He cursed his luck and lack of laundry planning, spinning around to scan his pristine room for any stray undergarments that may have escaped (as unlikely as that may be.) He searched, moving around through other drawers and over the wardrobe before giving up, retreating back to the bed… and the oversized underwear. “I… guess If I fold it correctly, nobody will notice…” he murmured to himself, letting his robe slip to the floor. He put the underwear down and inserted one leg, then the other, feeling like a dainty cheerleader in a football locker room as he pulled the undies up to his waist and nearly to his chest. “Heh… looking good, Kae.” He chuckled, turning around to admire his cloth-cloaked backside in the full-sized mirror. He shook it a few times, giggling as it bounced back and forth gently. Wait… bounced? No part of his body had bounced a day in his life. He was, and always had been, for all intents and purposes, a stick. So why is he now staring at a pair of quickly thickening ass cheeks and a roll-covered back? Kae rapidly spun himself back around to face the mirror, the new additions to his body nearly dragging him over. His stomach sagged out, quickly filling up the empty space in the once-roomy waistband with blubber-packed belly. He slowly reached down in disbelief, gently prodding at the ever-expanding rolls with his dimpled fingers that quickly plumped into thick little sausages. “How is this happening?…” he breathed, moving his hands up to feel his cheeks thicken and swell against his rapidly disappearing neck, the space of which replaced by a blossoming second chin that seemed to get closer to his blobby man-breasts by the second. The underwear that seemed so impossibly large only a moment ago now began to tighten against his belly, the band squeezing between two overhanging lovehandles at his sides and hugging his lightly-sweating doughy buttcheeks like a pair of scanty panties. Kae was lost, lost in himself, in the moment, in the sensations. He should be panicking, he thought. Scream, call an ambulance! But… His arm fat dipped down like a pair of flabby bingo wings, patting against the massive dollop of sour cream that was his belly as he reached up to squeeze his breasts, pert pink nipples and luscious, creamy fat bulging between his bloated fingers. …it feels so good! His cheeks flushed rose red as he slid his hands back, into his waistband, squeezing his cellulite-laden butt fat in his palms. Warm, sweaty fat, at least 500 pounds of it and steadily growing, all him… gone was the sharp chin, replaced with a double that jiggled with a quick turn of his head (not that much of anything about him would be quick anymore.) Sunken ribs were swapped with an unending expanse of rolls and lovehandles that contained so much lardy flab, thin thighs with bags of fat that smooshed and sagged well past a defining line. He hugged himself, the growth jolting forward in one last jump of weight as if to reach out and hug him back, rewarding him with so much more warmth and total comfort. Just as the weight climb trickled to a rapid halt, a knock sounded at the door. “H-Huh?… Wait, that boy, Crowe!” he muttered, snapping back from his warm daze. “Coming!” he called, voice somewhat deeper than it had been before, taking a wobbly step out of the bedroom and into the hall, holding onto the frame for comfort. Every booming step was accompanied by a resounding creak from the floorboards and a jiggle from his near-naked body, butt swaying and belly patting against his thighs. By the time he reached the door, his flabby body had accumulated a slick shine of sweat, and his heavy chest heaved with exhausted breaths. This is going to take some getting used to… he thought, opening the door for his visitor. “Ten large pizzas for Kae-” James. The two stood, staring into eachother’s eyes, in complete shock. “Oh… my god… K-Kae? What happened to you? Are you okay?!” James blurted, rushing into the apartment, leaving the bag of pizzas in the hall. “Just… gained a little weight, is all.” he replied, putting his hands on his belly, the flabby pale flesh blushing pink like a christmas ham.   “B-But you were so thin! What happened?” “Well, I just decided to pack a bit on. Nothing else to it.” Kae shrugged, turning away. “It, um… it looks really cute on you.” James blushed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “You… really think so?” Kae looked back over his pudgy shoulder, whole body practically blushing. “Well, y-yeah… y-you want to, umm… well, do you want to get something to eat sometime?” James rushed, holding onto his hat like a life preserver. “Well, I do have ten pizzas now, don’t I? I could use a hand.” he purred, tugging on the sides of his waist band, the design pulling into a perfect heart between his huge cheeks. “…l-let me just call my boss.”