#one year anniversary of the beginning of my life being ruined

[gay-fordeath]

.

[patscorner]

date with paige. 😛

I gotchu!

End Game

Summary: Paige takes you on a date for your two year anniversary.

wc: 1,971

Contains: fluff, suggestive if you squint

kinda lost it towards the end, but I hope you like it

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“Can I open my eyes now?” You ask for the 100th time, and for the 100th time, Paige responded the same: “No.”

“Aw, come on! You’re killing me!” You sigh comically loud. Paige laughs and shakes her head. “Baby, that ruins the surprise. Tha-”

You cut her off with a whine. “I hate surprises.” You and Paige both know you were just being dramatic, and that you were just excited.

Paige was your third relationship and your first girlfriend, and today is your second anniversary, so it was a big day for the both of you. All your other relationships ended with him cheating on you, which led to you having an abundant amount of trust issues. So it’s safe to say learning to trust Paige at the beginning of your relationship was one of the many pebbles you had to shake out of your shoe.

Paige never gave you a reason to not trust her. Never. You knew her passwords to everything, as well as most of her contacts. She was impossibly patient with you, from when you’d yell at her because you were too in your head, to when you’d give her the silent treatment when she pissed you off.

It’s not like Paige was perfect, she had her fair share of flaws. For example, at the start of your relationship, she was extremely jealous. If you guys were out, if you were even looking in another person’s direction, she’d shut down. Since she was in the eye of the public at all times, she’d hold onto that anger until you guys were in a more private setting. This led to screaming matches and honestly, it wasn’t looking the best for you guys.

But after exhausting nights, painfully long conversations, and you two learning how to love each other, you made it work. Paige began to trust that you could stand up for yourself, and you began to trust that she was just head over heels for you as you were for her.

Which is how you got here, to your second year with the love of your life.

“Just a couple more minutes, ma, we’re almost there.” Her hand squeezed your thigh in reassurance. You shake your head and put your hand over hers.

“This better be worth it, Bueckers.”

“Isn’t it always?” She spoke softly, and you can hear the smile on her face.

After what felt like forever (it was 15 minutes), you feel your girlfriend’s hand leave your thigh, and the car jerk into the parking position. “We’re here.” She said, taking the key out of the ignition.

“Can I open my eyes now?” you reply excitedly.

“Yes, you can open your eyes now.” Paige chuckles at your antics as you open your eyes.

You look around, processing your surroundings momentarily, before recognizing it as the local beach. You turn to your girlfriend who’s already looking at you, eyes sparkling with what someone can only describe as undying love. “What’re we doing here?”

She smiles brightly. “Now that’s another surprise.” You groan loudly as Paige chuckles and makes her way to open the door for you.

You walk hand in hand with Paige down to the shoreline of the beach. It was moments like these that you both cherished, the quiet moments, with just the two of you. The moments the world goes silent, and the only thing you have your attention on is the love of your life.

After walking for about 5 minutes, you two come across a blanket, strategically placed on the sand with all a bunch of treats and delights neatly organized. “Huh, I wonder what that’s doing there.” Paige spoke with fake surprise, and you caught the hint.

“You’re so stupid.” You say jokingly, looking at her, as she squeezes your hand. “I know, but you love it.” She smiles like a kid in a candy shop. You laugh and pull her into a passionate kiss.

She sighs as your lips interlock, pulling you in by your waist. You smile into the kiss, before pulling away. “C’mon, let’s eat.”

“I just was.” She groaned as you pulled her onto the blanket, sitting criss-crossed as Paige lay on her side, propped up on her elbow.

“You’re such a teenager.” You say before Paige began opening the food.

By the time you guys had finished eating, the sky had been painted a beautiful mix of pink and orange. It’s been about 10 minutes since one of you spoke, which was okay. The silence was comfortable as you both were just enjoying each others company, looking at the beautiful movie-like sunset. At this point, you were laying in her lap, her arms over your shoulders.

The darker it got, the colder it got, and you both decided to go back to the car. On the way back, Paige revealed she had another surprise, but this time, she didn’t make you cover your eyes to see it. You shuffled into the car, but not before you heard Paige rant about all the sand you had stuck to your body.

You both piled into the car, and Paige pulled off, leaving the beach and the first part of your date behind. You held Paige’s hand the entire time, as her playlist played in the background of your conversations.

It’s dark by the time you get there, but that doesn’t stop you from recognizing where you were. You gasp as the realization comes over you.

“No fucking way.” You look at Paige, then back outside the window.

“You said you’d never been to a carnival, I thought I’d be the first one to take you.” she shrugged as if it was no big deal.

And to some, it might not seem like it, but to you, this meant more than anything. When you were younger, your dad had promised to take you to the carnival for your 14th birthday. But when you turned 13, your dad got really sick, and you never got the chance to go. You held onto the desire to go but never had the time, especially as you got older.

You look at Paige as tears roll down your face. You’ve never felt luckier to have her. “Oh, baby, no, don’t cry.” Her head glances at the road every once in a while, but her attention is on you. Her hands have left yours and have migrated to your thigh.

You laugh and wipe your tears. “I love you so much. Thank you.” You say through your sobs.

Paige swiftly parks the car, gets out, and opens your door. She cups your face, wiping your tears as you unbuckle your seatbelt. You fall into her arms, and she makes sure you don’t hit your head as she lifts you to stand. “Shhh, I love you, too, baby.” She finally answers as you're both standing.

She holds you as you cry, her arms around your waist, your wrapped around her neck, pulling her face to the crook of your neck. After a couple of minutes, you pull away, and lean in for a short, sweet, kiss.

“Are you done?” Paige whispered as she pulled away. You giggle as you nod, unwrapping your arms to wipe your face. Paige looks down at her shirt, groaning when she sees the big tear stain you’d left.

“Wha- Oh. Sorry, love.” You smile apologetically, before bending down and grabbing your purse. As your half in the car, you feel Paige’s hands on your waist, followed by her hips on yours. You turn around quickly, smacking her chest as she bursts out in loud laughter.

“You’re an idiot.” You roll your eyes, before grabbing her hand and dragging her to the carnival grounds.

The night was one of the best you’d had in a while. You walked around for a while before deciding to get on a couple roller coasters, and Paige claimed she didn’t scream once (the jury is still out on that one).

After that, Paige insisted on winning you a stuffed toy at one of the carnival games. Of course, she chose basketball and easily won you a giant stuffed teddy bear. Then she paid for ice cream as you guys decided to go on one last hurrah.

The Ferris Wheel.

You were not excited. Heights were not your things, so it took a little convincing on Paige’s end. But you’ve never once been able to say no to this girl, so that’s why you were now holding onto her bicep for dear life.

Your anxiety peaked as you started moving, and Paige held your thigh to stop you from shaking the passenger cars. “Baby, it’s fine. Look how pretty it is.” she says.

You shake your head, and bury your face deeper into her arm. “Please, it’s so pretty.” You sigh as you reluctantly look around. You feel your stomach drop, but as you take in all the colors, that’s quickly forgotten.

You can’t believe this is what you’ve been missing out on. The view is astonishing, all the colors from the food stands and rides lighting up the night sky. You smile as you see all the people littered around the carnival grounds, minding their business. You detach yourself from Paige’s arm, as you sit up to get a better look around.

“It’s peaceful, right?” Paige asks rhetorically. You hum and nod, before turning to her. “It is.”

Paige smiles softly, before reaching into her pocket and pulling out a little velvet box. You watch her curiously as she fumbles with the box nervously.

“What’s that, P?” You ask to give her the push she needed. She looked at you before looking back at the box. You’ve never seen her so nervous, but it was kinda cute, that after all this time, you still have that effect on her.

“I’ve been meaning to give this to you for a while. I-I’ve never been happier in my entire life. A-and I know we’re far too young to get married, but I never want to live life without you.” She tears up as she opens the box, shifting her body towards you.

“Fuck. I’m so in love with you, and I never want to know what it’s like to not be. I know we’ve been through shit, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you here. I promise that one day, I’ll be able to do this in front of our friends and family. If you let me, I promise to love you forever.” Both of you are in tears now, and you can see her hands shake as she awaits your answer.

You wipe her tears and giggle. “I can’t wait to marry you.” You say through your own tears. Paige lets out a sigh of relief before attaching her lips to yours. You both laugh into the kiss. It looked like a scene out of a movie, as you both reached the peak of the Ferris Wheel, before it stops at the top.

You pull away and giggle as Paige’s shaky hands put the promise ring on your finger. “Fuck, I’ve never been more scared in my entire fucking life.” she mutters when she finally slides the ring on.

You raise your eyebrows. “Not even when KK put that big, fake spider on your bed?”

“No spider should be that fucking big, ever.”

You laugh as you interlock your hand with hers, squeezing it lovingly. The giggles die down, leaving you both in a comforting silence.

“I love you so much, P.”

“I love you so much more.”

Not once in your relationship did you question whether you two were meant to be. And it seems neither did she.

Little did you know that to her, you had always been her end game.

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taglist: @bueckerslover @wintersstan @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @girlokwhatever @breeloveschris

[janeyseymour]

Spoiled

Summary: melissa’s never had a partner who plans things like valentine’s day, her birthday, christmas, special anniversaries. it takes years of getting used to it.

WC: ~5.2k

If Melissa Schemmenti was anything, it wasn’t spoiled. No. She grew up in a house where you didn’t give much, you didn’t get much, and you were as close to happy enough as you could get. The small redhead learned quickly that she had to earn everything in life- love, affection, praise, a tangible object… and on the other end of it all, she could also earn punishment, hatred, hurt. Every single action and choice that she made, there was some sort of consequence. Sometimes it was natural, and other times it was not. The times when it wasn’t a natural consequence were always worse. 

And as she grew older, she only continued to learn that a spoiled life would never be her life- not as a teacher with a deadbeat for a husband. Everything that she had and was was earned. Nothing could ever come just by luck, or because someone thought she should receive something just because. 

That is… until you came along. And it took Melissa a long time to adjust to a life where she was treated as though she was less of a body and more of a treasure- a treatment that she should’ve been getting from the beginning.

The first time that you take her by surprise is her birthday. The two of you had begun dating in May, so when her birthday rolls around in August, the two of you are in a rather secure place to begin celebrating birthdays.

You spend the night before with her, and as nights often end when the two of you go out on dates or have a night in, you stay the night. She begins her birthday in a bliss, to say the least. You are more than happy to indulge her in those feelings, and it is a wonderful start to a birthday for the redhead.

And when dawn breaks, while the second grade teacher is usually the first one up and preparing breakfast for the both of you, you’re so eager to begin spoiling your girlfriend that you wake up before even she does. You silently disentangle your limbs from hers, press a warm kiss to her temple, and slip out of the room without her waking.

Breakfast is going on the stove, a lovely spread of all of her favorite morning foods, when you as though someone is watching you. And there is someone. Melissa is leaning against the archway into her kitchen with a half-awake smile as she holds her robe close to her body. Your smile brightens, if that’s even possible, at the sight of her. Your girlfriend is a stunningly beautiful woman when she’s all done up in makeup and there isn’t a hair out of place, but… nothing could compare to the sight of her just waking up in the morning, if you’re being honest. She wears a tired smile with a look of what you tell yourself is love.

“I coulda made breakfast,” Melissa tells you softly. 

Your smile turns into a pout as you realize that your idea of breakfast in bed for the redhead is tarnished.

“Why the long face?” your girlfriend teases you as she makes her way over and wraps her arms around your waist.

“You ruined your first birthday surprise,” you grumble playfully before kissing her sweetly. “Happy birthday, babe.”

The woman rolls her eyes. “You said it last night before we went to bed, hun. It’s just another day, same old shitshow.”

Your brows furrow as you shake your head. “It’s your special day, Lis.”

“Ain’t been special in the past, why start now?”

You sputter out a few incoherent sounds before you can finally get out, “Not special?! Oh, honey… you are in for it today.”

“What do you mean? Why?”

“Why?” you parrot her before looking back to the eggs and bacon on the stove. “Because! It’s your special day! You were born today, and that is something to celebrate!”

Your girlfriend chuckles as she allows you to turn in her arms to tend to breakfast. A warm kiss is pressed to your cheek before she settles her chin on your shoulder. “You, my dear, are something special.”

You crane your neck to kiss her. “That would be you, Lis.”

Breakfast is wonderful- complete with coffee to her liking and a stunning bouquet of flowers set in the middle of the table for her. 

“You sure know how to spoil a girl,” Melissa laughs as you dance around the kitchen while cleaning, absolutely refusing her request to help.

“This is just the beginning of it.”

You spend the rest of that day doing everything that she loves. From lounging at the pool, to pulling her aside for a quick… break, to satiate her desire for you, to relaxing on the couch to take a quick nap. And while she’s napping, you see your opportunity to get the things together to take her for a picnic at Belmont Plateau. You gently slip a pillow under her head in place of your lap as you look around for the basket that you’re going to bring with you. You’re somehow able to prepare all of the food and get it into the car without her knowing, she’s still exhausted from sitting out in the sun for hours and then participating in… well, that stays in the bedroom.

You know that if you’re going to catch the sunset like you want to, you have to wake her.

With the gentlest hand on her shoulder and your lips to her temple, you shake her as softly as you can to wake her. “Baby, it’s time to get up.”

Her eyes peel open slowly, and the golden flicks in them sparkle. “Hmm?”

“I have something planned for your birthday dinner today, but I need you to wake up if we’re going to make it on time.”

“On time?” her brow lifts just slightly. “Hun, I told you… today has been great already. We don’t need to do anything else.”

“This is the last thing,” you tell her with a voice as smooth as honey. “And then we can spend the rest of the night in bed watching your reality television that you love so much.”

The look on your girlfriend’s face tells you that she doesn’t believe you, but she gets up. “Is what I’m in okay, or do I need to change for dinner?”

You pretend to look her over- okay, you actually do, because she looks so effortlessly beautiful. Even with her hair in the messiest of buns on the top of her head, eyes still crusted with sleep, and a tank top and athletic shorts on, she is the most stunningly gorgeous person you’ve ever seen.

“You look beautiful, Lis,” you promise her with a kiss as you pull her to a more seated position. “C’mon though, babe. We gotta go if we wanna make it.”

You glance outside, and if you leave now, you still should have time to set everything up in order to be able to watch the sunset while you eat dessert.

As you pull up to the parking lot, your girlfriend looks at you with a confused look. “What are we doing here? I thought we were going out to dinner.”

“We are,” you chuckle. “I thought it might be nice to have a picnic and watch the sun set in one of your favorite places in Philly.”

The both of you get out of your car and head for the trunk. You have the stereotypical picnic basket filled to the brim with food, and she manages to grab the blanket before you can stop her.

“Mel,” you whine. “It’s your birthday. Let me get it.”

“I want to help you,” your girlfriend rolls her eyes. “It’s just the blanket.”

With a sigh, you give in to her request, and you grab the guitar you also packed and sling it over your back.

Dinner is perfect, absolutely everything is divine. Melissa, not one to compliment food often, knows how much effort you put into this and praises the meal with such kindness. Dessert is the same, as the two of you watch the sun begin to sit.

As you’re finishing up the last of your meals, the sky is painted gold, streaks of pink and blue and purple dancing through the sky. It’s a spectacle to behold.

“This is beautiful,” your girlfriend smiles as she watches the landscaping in front of her.

Your heart swells as you attempt to capture this moment in your head. “Not as beautiful as what I’m looking at.”

The redhead turns to look at you, and your eyes are focused on her completely. “You’re the cheesiest person I know,” she tells you with a playful roll of the eyes. She leans in to kiss you though. “Thank you.”

You don’t say anything else. The guitar that has been sitting next to you is picked up, and you begin strumming the instrument before laying your voice over the chords.

The two of you watch the sunset as your soft and melodic voice hums out some of Melissa’s favorite tunes. Once the sun is down, you go to stop playing, but a soft voice stops you.

“Keep playing?” your girlfriend requests softly. You would normally oblige a soft, sweet request like this anyway, but on her birthday, you make sure that you play her absolute favorites. 

Her eyes sparkle with adoration for you, your sweet chords and fingerpicking, and your honey-laced voice. Eventually though, your voice begins to grow tired, Melissa’s eyes are starting to droop as she lays on the blanket that you have out, and without the warmth of the sun to bask in, it’s starting to get a bit chilly. So, you call it a night, much to her disappointment.

“But it’s my birthday,” Melissa protests quietly, a small pout evident on her face.

“It is,” you chuckle as you begin to put your instrument in its case. “And I can always continue to sing at your house, but my voice needs a bit of a break for right now.”

Begrudgingly, your girlfriend sits up, smooths down her hair, and starts picking things up to make your trek back down to the car.

When you make it back to her place, you don’t end up pulling out the guitar again. Instead, you spend time in the shower… longer than you would usually take to bathe, and then you’re laying down in bed. Both of you are absolutely beat from today’s activities.

Her head lays on your chest as she closes her eyes.

“Today was a great day,” she sighs. “Most years I hate my birthday, but… I think I could get used to celebrating it with you by my side.”

If the second grade teacher thought you went all out for her birthday four months into dating, Christmas is a whole other deal. The two of you have been dating for seven months,, she’s (by some force above you) allowed you to move in with her, and the holiday season is your favorite time of year. You’re determined to show her that Christmas is not just about presents and the commercialized side of the winter holidays, but there is something about being able to spend time with the people you love and be just the slightest bit kinder (who are you kidding, you’re always sweet as can be).

So while she’s out shopping on Black Friday with Barbara, you’re busy as a bee decorating her house with lights, window clings, little trinkets, you move the couches in the living room to make space for where a tree might go… you’re determined to show her that while past holidays have sucked for her (Joe had presented divorce papers to her on Christmas  Day in the past), the most wonderful time of the year with you truly is magical.

By the time she’s pulling back up to the house, you are in full decorating mode. The kitchen has been decorated, the banister to the upstairs has been wrapped in garland and tinsel, there’s space for where you’re hoping the tree will go, the television stand has little trinkets lining it, and you’re just hanging the mistletoe as you see her face appear in the window to the front door.

“Hun?” She shouts through the glass.

“Just a sec!” You call back as you climb down from the step stool that you needed to set it up. Once everything is out of the way, you pull open the front door with a grin.

She begins to walk in, but you stop her quickly, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder, shaking your head. You point up with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Babe, you’re joking,” she huffs as she continues to hold a multitude of bags in her arms.

“Jeez, you act like kissing me at the front door when you come home is a chore,” you tease her. “If you hate me, just say it.”

“Well, you know that just isn’t true, but my arms are getting tired.”

“So kiss me, and I’ll let you in!” 

Your girlfriend pecks your lips quickly, and you step aside. You follow her further into the house, bouncing on your toes with excitement.

“Are you an elf or something?” Melissa asks as she takes in everything you’ve done, dropping most of the bags in the kitchen and living room as she goes. “Barb and I were only gone for three hours.”

“Do you like it?” 

“It’s beautiful, mi amore,” the redhead tells you softly, pulling you into her arms now that she has them free. She kisses you a bit more deeply than she had. “I never decorate, so this is… this is nice.”

“This is just the beginning,” you smile as you lay your head on her shoulder. “Just wait until I rope you into helping me decorate outside and get the tree with me.”

“Why are you so insistent on all of this?”

“Because I know you don’t have great memories with the holidays, and I want to create new ones… happier ones.”

Melissa, for as much as she used to hate the holidays because they were always filled with memories of fighting and anger, finds that she loves the holidays with you. Everyday that you get closer to the holidays is filled with warmth, and love, and smiles that are so bright she swears you could light up all of Philly.

You set the Christmas lights up outside, making sure that they look perfect. You take her out of the city and to a Christmas tree farm to pick out the best tree you can find. When you decorate it, the house smells of pine and hot chocolate as music fills the air. Copious amounts of cookies are made, the scent always lingering. Shopping for presents is usually a task filled with dread for the redhead, but being with you makes it bearable. Melissa loves the way you light up in the stores when you see items that may just be the perfect gifts or a small trinket that you insist is necessary for the house.

The actual event of Christmas is… so far from what Melissa thought it would be. Most years, she drags herself to these family events. She found that she hates them- her family seeing her alone for years now and wondering when she would finally get back into the game. And when she was with Joe, she was forced to interact with his family… not something she enjoyed doing. But with you? You immediately capture the hearts of her family members, even those who don’t necessarily want to like you. And your family welcomes Melissa in as one of their own. This is so different from what she used to know. It’s a nice different though, a good different, a magical different.

And when the two of you finally get to relax after spending Christmas Eve with her family and Christmas Day with yours, you pull a small wrapped box out of your pocket for her. You see the way her eyes go wide as she wonders what could possibly be in it.

“Relax, Lis,” you chuckle softly as you drape your legs over hers. “I know what you think it is, and it isn’t. I promise.”

Her shoulders relax ever so slightly before taking the present into her hands. When she opens it, it’s a stunning bracelet- one with an engraving on the inside of it.

Here’s to many more magical days with you is all it reads- there’s no tying yourself to her, no promises of an engagement or marriage, just… a promise that you will always make your days together happy ones. 

Melissa whispers as she looks at it with wide eyes, “Mi amore, this is… I can’t accept this.”

“Why not?” you cock your head to the side. “You deserve a Christmas present.”

“I- It’s too much,” she says. “It’s worth too much, and I- I’m not worth the money to spend.”

Your heart breaks inside your chest at your girlfriend’s words, and you see in her eyes that she truly believes what she just uttered. “Melissa Schemmenti.” She just shrugs and averts her eyes from your gaze. “Mel. Look at me.” You only continue when sad green eyes look into yours. “You are worth everything in this world, and I am so sorry it’s taken this long for me to find you to show you that.”

She shrugs again. “It just looks so expensive.”

It was expensive. But, your girlfriend deserves to be spoiled. She has this day, her birthday, Valentine’s Day, and your anniversary to be spoiled on- only four days out of the year when you wish you could shower her with presents and love everyday.

“So?” you ask. “It’s Christmas. Let me spoil you.”

“You spoiled me for my birthday.”

“And? That was your birthday, and this is Christmas! Two completely different days for me to show my wonderful girlfriend how much I love her,” you argue with a teasing smile. “C’mon, I thought you were a teacher- you should know that those are two completely separate occasions.”

With Christmas over, Melissa thought she was done being spoiled until her birthday again, if the two of you last that long, and she’s starting to believe that the two of you might really have a future together.

But when Valentine’s Day rolls around, you’re up bright and early with a smile on your face as you make her coffee and breakfast. The stunning bouquet of flowers that you had picked up the previous night and somehow managed to keep hidden from her get placed on the table in her favorite vase.

After her birthday, you should’ve known that she wouldn’t stay asleep for much longer, but you had to try. So when you feel warm, robe clad arms snake around you, you aren’t necessarily surprised. Instead, you turn in her arms and kiss her softly.

“My love, what is all of this?” she asks you.

“It’s our first Valentine’s Day together,” you tell your girlfriend. “I wanted to spoil you with breakfast in bed, but I should’ve known you’d be up.”

“I don’t think I can sleep without you by my side anymore,” Melissa murmurs into your shoulder.

“You’re such a dork,” you tease.

“Your dork,” the redhead can’t help but retort sleepily. Her eyes wander to the flower arrangement on the table. “Those are beautiful, but please tell me you didn’t wake up at the ass crack of dawn to go pick them up.”

“Last night,” you promise her before turning your attention back to the meal at hand.

It’s on the table a few minutes later, and you spend breakfast in a blissful haze with your hands intertwined before you have to start getting ready for work.

You kiss her softly as she gets into her car. “Come home right after work? I have something planned.”

“Of course you do,” Melissa rolls those beautiful green eyes playfully. “Hun, I don’t need a fancy dinner or nothin’.”

“Well…” you hum and look away. “Just… come straight home after work?”

“You know I always do.”

When the teacher returns home, your car is already in the driveway, which isn’t necessarily a shock. You’ve really lucked out with the hours that you work. It’s also not uncommon for you to work through your lunch so you’re able to leave a half hour earlier than intended.

Where she expects you to be sitting on the couch in a fancy dress ready to take her to a ridiculously expensive dinner, you’re actually sitting on the couch in the living room in a pair of sweatpants.

“Amore?” she raises a brow, and her lips turn downward. “Are you alright?”

You look to her with the warmest and sweetest of smiles. “I’m alright. C’mon, set your stuff down.”

“Aren’t we going out for dinner tonight?” the redhead asks as she sets her bags down on the bench by the door.

You shake your head. “I know you’re tired after days like this where you have parties at the school. I figured we could spend our first Valentine’s Day where we’re both the happiest.”

“On our couch?”

“Well, maybe after… but I actually meant the kitchen.” You stand from your place and reach out a hand that she takes. When she thinks you’re going to lead her into the kitchen, you actually take her to the bedroom.

“I thought you just said we were going to the-”

You cut her off with a kiss before pushing the door open. “I figured you would want to get out of your teaching clothes and into something a little more comfortable.” On the bed are a sweatshirt (her favorite sweatshirt of yours) and a pair of sweatpants.

“You weren’t bringing me up here to-”

“No, Melissa,” you chuckle. “I swear, you think I’m a sex fiend. Change, and then meet me in the kitchen.”

You and your girlfriend prepare dinner together effortlessly- one of your favorite activities to do together. Now that she knows you are quite the cook, she always accepts your help in the kitchen- invites it, actually.

The two of you eat dinner the same way you ate breakfast this morning. And then you lead her to the couch. Her favorite movie is already cued up, and the two of you spend that time curled up together, just enjoying each other’s company.

By some miracle, she’s still awake by the end of the movie, albeit she is yawning.

“I think maybe it’s time we head to bed,” you chuckle as you press a lazy kiss to her temple.

Once you’re cozy in bed, she rests her head on your shoulder, and you sigh softly.

“I hope you’re okay with what happened today.”

“Hun, what are you talking about?” Melissa pulls away and sits up to stare at you.

“I just mean…” you fiddle with your fingers. “We didn’t really do much today, but I knew you were going to be exhausted from having all of those parents in your room today for the party. I just wish I could’ve spoiled you more today.”

“Mi amore, today was the perfect day after school. I don’t need the fancy dinners or the sparkly dresses to show people that we love each other. And honestly, you did spoil me. I know you like going all out and doing the ‘fancy’ things, but… you put my comfort ahead of it all, and that is the best way you could’ve spoiled me today.”

You look at her through your lashes with a shy smile. “Well, just know that even though I couldn’t spoil you today, that doesn’t mean I’m not spoiling you on Saturday for a late Valentine’s Day dinner.”

Your girlfriend laughs that incredibly deep laugh, the one that you find to be one of the sexiest things in the world. “I should’ve known.”

“Yeah,” you smile as you pull her back down to lay with you. “You should’ve.”

When your first anniversary of dating rolls around, Melissa has been around you long enough to know that you’re going to go all out. And she’s right. But you don’t go all out in the way that she predicted. You’ve done beautiful picnics, the fancy restaurants, the in between, lazy days… so she really isn’t quite sure what to expect. All she knows that you are going to be so unapologetically you.

She does try to guess, but you tell her with a smirk each time that you aren’t going to reveal anything.

You had spoken to Barbara Howard recently, and the veteran teacher stated that Melissa wanted to be able to give you everything she could for your first anniversary together. She wanted to be the one who got to spoil you, unlike how every other big event went over the past year. So, that’s how you were going to spoil Melissa. You were going to let her feel that she was spoiling you. Of course, the next day, you would give her the paperwork to show her you had contacted a contractor to put in an in ground hot tub that she had been wanting for ages, but for today… she could feel like she was spoiling you. And you would do it with a smile. 

To her surprise, when she opens her eyes that morning, you’re still holding onto her- not downstairs trying to finally execute the breakfast in bed that you’ve been wanting to give her since the relationship began. Instead, you’re laying there peacefully, eyes closed. She thinks you’re still asleep, but the truth of it is, you aren’t. You’re so consumed in your own thoughts of how much you love her and could spend the rest of your living days with her.

So, she makes her way downstairs and is able to make breakfast for you. She brings it up and into the bedroom before sitting down on the edge of your side of the bed.

“Mi amore?”

You peel your eyes open, pretending as if you had slept in. You knew she was making breakfast, you could smell it the second she had started working her magic in the kitchen. “Good morning, Lis. Happy anniversary, babe.” You kiss her gently.

“Happy anniversary,” she echos. “I made breakfast.”

You allow her to set the tray on the bed, and the tow of you have a wonderful meal together. Every meal you have together is wonderful.

You spend the day doing everything she thinks you would want to do on your perfect ideal day. And she has you down to a science- the things she planned are everything that you would love to do with her. But in all honesty, anything that you do with her is exactly where you would love to be. She’s home, and any time that you get to spend with her is perfect. 

As the day progresses, you see how light she is on her feet- how happy she is to feel that she is giving you the treatment you always give her. And you couldn’t be happier. After so many years of her not feeling as though she had a purpose or a place in this world, you were more than happy to take a step back and let her be in charge and heal a bit of her inner child.

The two of you head to bed that night with lovesick grins on your faces, and your heart is filled with so much love and happiness that you’re not sure you could top a day like today.

And of course, the day after, where you can’t quite walk properly because of activities that you participated in the night before, is a day of rest and relaxation. You make sure that you take the best care of your girlfriend’s aches and pains and soreness. And that’s before you take her outside to show her where the contractor is planning on putting the hot tub.

“Did you really think I wasn’t going to get you anything?” you chuckle as she wraps her arms around your waist. “Like, c’mon, Lis.”

“Hun, this is…”

You roll your eyes as you kiss her. “It’s not too much. You’ve been wanting this. You deserve it.”

“I absolute do-”

“Just let me spoil you,” you mumble against her cheek before kissing it.

With the first year down, when these big days and holidays come around again, the redhead thinks that you’ll tone it down- that you had only gone all out because it was your first year together. She’s wrong.

Melissa tells herself it’s just the honeymoon phase. That once you’ve really settled into life together, it won’t always be this magical. She’s wrong. You never let a big day go by without spoiling her. And while she never comes to expect it, she accepts the fact that this is who you are. That you spoil her because you love her more than she thinks she’s ever seen anyone love another human before. As time goes on she will just lovingly kiss you, having adjusted to this life that she lives now. A life where love is unconditional, and she doesn’t have to earn it.

Your girlfriend becomes your wife, and a few years later, the family expands. You welcome two little girls into your world right after Melissa’s birthday, and they grow before your eyes.

When Christmas rolls around, this is the first year that your wife thinks that maybe you won’t spoil her the way you have been for years now. With two small children to care for now, you’re not necessarily in a place to be spending the money and living the lavish lifestyle that you had both grown accustomed to. And Melissa is entirely okay with this- your little ones deserve the absolute world.

But still, you manage to spoil her. She’s not quite sure how you had managed it with the budget, but she’s presented with a sparkling necklace on Christmas morning, adorned with all four of your birthstones on it.

“Honey,” she whispers as she looks at it, tears in her eyes. “This is… beautiful. But I- I didn’t get you anything like this. I figured with the twins now-”

“I don’t need anything other than what I have right here,” you promise her quietly. “Everything I need is here, and it is more than enough.”

“But I-”

“Let me spoil you,” you tell her, much like you’ve done for years.

She chuckles a watery chuckle before sighing and kissing you sweetly. “Will you ever stop?”

“Spoiling you?” you ask her with a playful roll of the eyes. “Absolutely not. I’ve been doing it for years. Why would I stop now?”

“Because we have the girls to worry about and spoil now.”

“And they will be,” you tell her as you glance over at the two sleeping quietly in the bassinets you have set up in the living room. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop spoiling you.”

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[cutielando]

family | r.c.

synopsis: in which you give Rafe everything he has wished for

my masterlist

Ever since he was young, Rafe had always dreamed of having a family. His wife, his children that he would raise whatever way he saw fit with his partner by his side. He wanted it all.

Growing up, he came to the conclusion that he would never have that. Who would want to love someone as damaged as him? Not even his family loved him, he couldn’t expect a stranger to do so. It would be completely unfair.

Meeting you had been Rafe’s lifeline from the very beginning. He couldn’t explain it, but he knew, from the moment you had first spoken to each other, that he would end up marrying you.

To some people, it might seem rash, or completely unrealistic. How could you think that you would be spending the rest of your life with someone you had known for such a short amount of time? Some even called Rafe delusional.

But he had been right in the end.

You saw Rafe for so much more than his family was making him believe about himself. He had so much potential to become such a great human being, a great CEO for his family’s business, an amazing partner and a reliable friend. He had all the qualities to be amazing, he was just being let down by his own family who didn’t believe he was worth any trouble. A fact which completely broke your heart.

You had vowed to yourself that you wouldn’t let his family dictate his life any longer, that you would not let them bring him down and make him think less of himself. You would show him just how much life had to offer and how much better off he would be without their control over him.

Rafe knew he had to get out. He would never have got better if he were to remain to live under the same roof as them or even be in the same place as them.

Which was partially the reason why the two of you moved in together on the mainland, not even 6 months after your relationship had officially started. Many of your friends thought it was too soon, that you hadn’t thought things through and were just acting up. Typical things coming from entitled teenagers.

Nothing about your relationship was ordinary. The circumstances in which the two of you had met, the very beginning of your relationship with each other, your interactions with his family and especially his father, your mutual decision to help Rafe escape from the toxic environment he had grown accustomed to. Unique circumstances, as your boyfriend had liked putting it.

Those exact circumstances were the reason why Rafe proposed to you on your 1 year anniversary dinner. He hadn’t told anyone he would be doing it, making sure you didn’t suspect anything that would ruin his surprise.

The wedding ceremony had been the one to go down in history books. You’d decided to go all out, inviting every last one of your friends, both of your families, a lot of people from the island, new friends you had made since the two of you moved, wanting the people you loved close to you on that special day.

Rafe had been skeptical of inviting his family at first, very familiar with the way his father made it his life’s mission to make his son’s life a living hell with any occasion.

Luckily, thanks to Rose, that hadn’t been the case at all. You didn’t even know he was there, that’s how quiet and invisible he had made himself out to be.

Being married to Rafe was amazing. You both had stable jobs, but you still made time for each other every single day. He would always bring you something when he would come home, either a bouquet of your favorite flowers, or some kind of jewelry that he had seen on the way home and made him think of you.

Everything was perfect.

But there was just something missing. Something both of you had been thinking about but didn’t have the courage to bring it up until one night.

A child.

“Baby?” Rafe had called out to you one night while you were doing your night routine.

“Yes?” you called out from the bathroom.

“Can we talk about something once you’re done?” his words made you a little bit nervous, figuring it had to be something important.

“Of course” you called back, now suddenly in a hurry to finish your skincare.

Nerves were gnawing at your chest, making all kinds of thoughts run through your head. Deep down, you knew you had no reason to be scared or anything like that. At the end of the day, it was Rafe you were talking about. Your sweet, sweet husband.

You walked back into your shared bedroom, noticing Rafe sitting in the middle of the bed under the covers, playing with his hands which rested on his lap.

Getting in next to him and cuddling with the mountain of blankets you slept with, you smiled at him, which he reciprocated but his smile didn’t meet his eyes.

“What did you want to talk about?” you asked, taking his hand in yours once you realized just how nervous he was.

He cleared his throat, turning around so he was completely facing you.

“I’ve been thinking lately, we’ve got a very stable lifestyle, you know? We both have good jobs, we really have a lot of money, we have a nice and big house, we have friends who support us, we’re doing really well, wouldn’t you agree?” he asked, making you nod. “I was thinking about it, and you can totally say no and I would completely understand if you think it would be too soon. But what do you thinking about starting to try for a baby?” by the time he had asked the question, his hands were shaking even more so than they were before.

You were shocked, to say the least. You had been toying around with the idea in your head as well, but you were skeptical of bringing it up because you had just got married, you didn’t want to pressure Rafe into having a kid just yet.

As it turned out, he had been doing the exact same thing.

“I think it’s time we started trying for a baby” you whispered, biting your lip once you saw how his eyes lit up.

“You do? You’re not just saying that for my sake?” he whispered, wanting to make sure you were truly on the same page about this.

You shook your head, smiling at him fondly.

“Truth to be told, I’ve been thinking about bringing up having children ever since our honeymoon ended, but I didn’t want to make you feel pressured to have a kid right away. Turns out I’ve been worrying in vain all this time” you chuckled, taking a hold of one of his hands.

Rafe chuckled alongside you and let out a big breath, feeling relief slowly taking over his body.

Silence fell over the room, you and your husband communicating through your eyes. There was an unspoken agreement between the two of you, an agreement that it was time for your family to get bigger, that you were more than ready to take this step together.

That you were ready to embark on yet another adventure.

Said adventure proved to come much quicker than the both of you were expecting.

After not even a month since you’d had that discussion and agreed that you would start trying for a baby, the blue stick that you had purchased at the pharmacy had shown a + sign, marking the beginning of your journey towards parenthood.

Telling Rafe had been your favorite part. You had gone out to the store and bought a little onesie and baby socks, deciding to put them in a small gift box along with the positive test you had taken.

When Rafe came home and discovered the gift, he burst out crying, sinking down to his knees and pressing kisses on your stomach, repeatedly thanking you for giving him such a huge blessing to love and care for.

For giving him a family.

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[m-ilkiee]

E-boys Ruined my Life: Toxic! Megumi Fushiguro x Fem Reader

“Coke on his nose, blade on my thigh, man I think this guy’s trying to plan my demise.”

Pairing: toxic! Megumi Fushiguro x female reader

series summary: You had a crush on Megumi for so long, you hoped you would meet him again. But now, as you stand before him, you realize that Fushiguro Megumi is not the same kid as he was at fifteen- he was taller, broader and far more handsome than ever.

And a whole lot more meaner to you.

(Based off a fic I wrote in 2021 for Megumi on my older writing blog. Honestly this theme is best viewed in dark mode but hey, what do I know 🤷🏽‍♀️)

[series warning] college/non-sorcerer AU, Dark content, nfsw, smut, 18+, aged up Megumi, fem!bodied reader, toxicity - toxic megumi, childhood crush to "lovers", situationships, heavy angst with "happy ending", smut, coercion, dubcon, noncon, mean dom! Megumi, sub!reader, misogyny, slut-shaming, depraved Megumi, mutual pining (is it really? is it??), manipulation, alcohol and drug use, gaslighting, drugging, implied baby trapping, semi-accurate potrayals of fraternities, classism

[main masterlist] [taglist link] [spotify playlist]

Chapter 1: Love at First Sight

synopsis: Being friends with the IT GIRLS as a first year has a lot of perks; new friends, a popularity boost and crossing paths constantly with your high school crush after many years apart, Megumi Fushiguro

cw: DARK CONTENT, NSFW, aged up characters (18-21 and above), classism - elitism, sexism/misogyny, unhealthy body image, physical and verbal violence, mentions of bullying and suicidal thoughts, slut shaming, objectification of the female body, parasocial relationships, gaslighting, manipulation, sex between character x character (NOT A SHIP), vague, brief mention of teenagers fooling around etc

wc: 13.5k

Chapter 2: Party Hard, F*ck Harder

synopsis: Heartbroken that Megumi hates you, you decide to attend the freshman party to get over him. And end up needing his help after getting drugged… in more ways than one.

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Chapter 3: Pattern Recognition

Synopsis: Nobara notices two things; One, you’re in love with Megumi and two, Megumi’s budding obssession with your affection.

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Chapter 4: I Don’t Do Drugs

Synopsis: Megumi realizes you would do anything for him, and decides to utilize this information to his advantage, much to Yuuji’s disappointment.

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Chapter 5: Sugar Rush

Synopsis: it’s evident you can’t live without Megumi, and so you cave in to his demands against all advice to stay away from him

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Chapter 6: S♡x Addict

Synopsis: Your grades begin to suffer due to Megumi’s insatiable urges and his inability to keep his hands to himself.

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Chapter 7: Whirlwind Situationship

Synopsis: Eventually, Megumi grows tired of you and breaks off everything, devastating you completely.

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Chapter 8: Revelation

Synopsis: You’re finally getting your life back together and start doing well in school again. Meanwhile, Megumi realizes he can’t function without you.

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Chapter 9: Relapse

Synopsis: You return his sweater to get closure  But Megumi himself isn’t ready to let his own feelings for you, as twisted as they are, go

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Chapter 10: I’m not the Right one

Synopsis: Left alone to spend your fifth marriage anniversary for another year, you finally gain the courage to get divorce papers. Megumi, however, reminds you that he owns you. Permanently.

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author's note: i missed writing for fushiguro! please comments, reblogs, likes and asks are welcomed. if you are a minor, please refrain from interacting with this fic.

taglist (please turn on your mentions in 'settings' before filling the form.): @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @getonite @reiners-milkbiddies @gh0stgirl333 @raven-nevra @megumisdivinedogs @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @raven-nevra @ilovetwodmen @straightfromheaven @manchie55 @matchamilktea-05 @tenjikusstuff4 @Lovelyartistz @lik0

[blingblong55]

So into you-Keegan P. Russ NSFW

Based on a request:

Keegan Russ with 24 and 5 with a cherry on top and so you can actually say yes I'll even add sprinkles it can be m or f reader tbh i don't care --- F!Reader, smut, MDNI, breeding kink, dad's best friend(DBF), unprotected!sex, age gap, all characters are of consenting age(18+)

A/N: it's a well-done deal.

Your dad had served in the Marines with Keegan before he retired and began working elsewhere, Keegan had become a huge part of your adult life. After introducing him to his daughter, he and you grew close. For one, he was at least four years younger than your dad but still much older than yourself. It was around springtime when he came to your parents' house, your parents celebrating their anniversary and you coming back home from a long work trip.

"There she is," Keegan opens his arms and you hug him. "Looking much older now, huh." you tease and he playfully nudges your arm. Dinner went great, all stories from everyone's adventures being told but one thing changed, that being him. He no longer looked at you with innocent eyes, now all there was, was lust. After your parents returned to their bedroom, you and Keegan stayed in the lounge, his hand placed on your thigh. "You've changed, R/N," his voice smooth, filled with some newfound passion. You would be lying if you said you never found him attractive, he was after all a very attractive man.

Much conversation led to his fingers teasing the hem of your shorts. "Keegan-" You wanted to stop him but deep down knew you wanted what he wanted too. "It's okay, I promise to be gentle~" he smirks and without any warning, his lips fall on yours. You let him take lead, his body and yours having the same reaction, "Keegan, is this...this isn't..." but each time you tried to make some excuse he would hush you by making your hnads explore his body. "I don't know i'f i'll be able to control myself, R/N." his voice raspy. His ever needy body pressed to yours, not wanitng any space left between either of you. "Let me have you," he whispers and you nod.

"I need words, sweet girl."

"Yes,...you can have me, all of me," you beg and he smirks. He could do this with you for hours. With one smooth hold, he takes you upstairs, placing you on your bed. "I've waited so long to have you, R/N. The moment you walked in, wearing this-" he licks his lips, unzipping his trousers and then stroking his cock under his boxers. "God, you are such a beautiful view." he leans forward, now on top of you as his fingers linger on your chest. your nipples getting aroused by his grip on them. "I've been wanting to make a move on you," he kisses your neck and eagerly removes your shirt and shorts.

Next thing you knew, your delicate panties were on the floor, and he was still stroking himself. "I won't touch you unless you tell me to," he admits. "I want you to touch me. Please touch me, Keegan," the way you said his name, was like a sweet melody to his ears. "That's my girl." his fingers touching your folds, "I can already tell my sweet girl is so wet for me." he kisses you again. His fingers get coated in your wetness, and you moan as his fingers rub your clit, he looks at you, a smirk on his face. "That's it, let me ruin you for all these guys you meet."

He loved the idea of you never getting any release from any other man but him. He knows deep down, he is the only one who knows how to please you. He bent down, his lips to your hips, leaving a trail of wet kisses on them as he slowly reaches to lick your wet cunt. "Oh, my sweet girl, you taste like heaven." His tongue teases your swollen clit. And his own tip begging to be pleased by some sort. "Moan for me, princess," he begs and begins to eat you out. His moans and groans send vibrations to your sensitive clit. Fingers pumping into you and then he gets back up.

"Can I fuck you, my angel?"

"Please~"

"Atta, girl"

His hips rocking as his length parted your now needy and very wet pussy. His tip pleasing you in ways you never knew your body could feel. "Yes. Oh god yes." you whimper. He places kisses on your collar bone and tits. "Fuck, you're so tight," his lips on yours. It was electric,, all the waves of pleasure he was sending thrugh your body. He ruined you in less than ten minutes of fucking you, you both know that very well. "Just imagine yourself, getting stuffed with my cum," he whsieprs, he keeps thrusting. His eyes on yours, the ones you could barely keep open. Another moan, this time like a mewl. "God, you make the prettiest sounds ever," he comments.

"I want more~"

"I know baby, I know," he kisses your shoulder.

"Say you need me," he continues to kiss your shoulder and neck. "I need you. Fuck, I need you, Keegan," you whisper as he sends more waves of pleasure through you. It wasn't just meaningless sex between you two, it was the unspoken tension that had been building up since your twenty-second birthday. It was love in the form of a forbidden fruit. He loved the way your body moved with his, the rhythm of his thrusts making your tits bounce, your hardened nipples being felt on his own chest.

"I need you so bad, Keegan~"

That was as much as it took to make him lose all control. "Fuck, R/N, you don't know what you're doing to me," his voice hoarse. "I want you to milk me. I want that greedy pussy of yours to fucking milk me for all I'm worth," he demands. As he begins to fuck himself deeper into you, he knows that by the way you clench around him, you are near the edge. His big hand on your tit, gripping it. "Come for me, R/N," he pauses between words, trying his best to keep his own hot seed inside before you come. "I need you to come on my cock," he demands.

His body pinned you down to the mattress, your hands gripping his arms and back, leaving definite scratches. "Keegan," you moan. "I know baby, but I want you to come now," he demands once more. Your back arched, his mouth fell on your tits. Kissing them and nibbling on them. He rubs your clit, circling his thick fingers around the sensitive tissue, being rough, then soft with it. You shut your eyes and come undone on his cock. In that same moment, you felt his thrust slow down, his grip and groans increase but are still low. "R/N," he growls and then stays there, letting all of his cum flow into you.

Both of you panting and kissing through both of your climaxes. He lets out a chuckle and kisses the top of your nose, "You are lucky I can't treat you like a slut," he moves some of your hair away from your face. "What do you mean?" your hands caress his back. "If it weren't for your parents sleeping down the hall, I'd fuck you like the little slut we both know you are." He kisses your lips before pulling out of you. His cum dripping down your cunt, just like he wanted. "I wasn't too rough right, my angel?"

"No. I liked it," you kiss his lips and he smiles. "Good, that's good my girl." he kisses you back.

Tags: @liyanahelena @lazybutsexy

[devnmon]

being gale dekarios' lover hcs

SFW/NSFW

I don't care if this is dramatic but Gale definitely is the love at first sight type of man. Not an insane amount of love, but enough from what he knows about you to admire you.

In the fact that he sees you as a strong, capable person who takes every hit on the chin and finds a way around things that seem difficult.

Realizes he likes you very early on after meeting and tries to combat how strongly he feels for you, because let's be honest... it's quite a lot for him to think about on an every day basis.

When he shows you a smidge of the weave at the tiefling party, he only does it to show you a glimpse into his love for magic, how it's everything to him. What he doesn't expect is you showing him a vision of you both kissing. He blushes but tries his best to hide it. Even the morning after, he will still try to push his feelings for you down, further than they were already attempting to be pushed.

He knows you had other propositions from the companions around camp and is baffled you chose him to spend a moment in the night with.

You could've easily chosen a night of pleasure from Astarion or Lae'zel, but no, you chose him. Him, even if he didn't give you the night of pleasure you might have been expecting. He wasn't the type to do anything of that sort, being tied to M*stra all those years he hasn't had the experience of his counterparts. Besides, if he were to do something like that with anyone, it would be after he's shown you all the ways he loves you. He's not the type to bed you and leave. And I admire that about him.

Gale was also too shied away because of the orb and wouldn't want to risk it going off before it was stabilized. He never even lets himself get too excited when thinking about you late at night, it's quite hard for him to sleep otherwise (no pun intended). He mostly casts sleep on himself to combat it while placing those thoughts in a part of his mind he never touches.

When you kiss him for the first time he's running every possible question through his head; why did you kiss him, did you think of him the same way he thought of you, were you kissing him to take him to bed, or was it because you felt the same?

His confession is quite on character for him; as in he begins with trying to keep it short and sweet but then he realizes. You don't deserve a short and sweet confession. You deserve to hear how much he adores and respects and has grown to love you in the time you've spent together. It's of course a ramble, but then that's what he's good at. detailing every way you've wrapped yourself around his mind and every time he's wanted to tell you.

After the orb is stabilized, you'd been together a while and practically wanted to jump his bones the night he confessed. Before, he couldn't risk ruining any attempt to take you to bed before he knew he wouldn't level a city. But now, you were practically buzzing with the thought of finally getting to do that with him.

He considers you his family after being there for him multiple times without fail. You rush to his side in battle and he to you when needed. He is truly one to check in if you need anything whenever he thinks of you, which is often.

Talks the others' ears off about you at every given moment when you're away or out on a run for supplies. "My partner this, my partner that…" There have been a few times he's been told to keep quiet by other camp members, as if that's even possible when you possess his mind so often.

Gale never misses an anniversary or birthday or special event. he is so amazed at anyone wanting to be with him after so long, that he makes it his life purpose to make sure you feel secure, safe, and loved by him no matter how many times he has to say it. He proudly would scream it from the rooftops if he could.

Gale makes sure to stock up on the right components for spells when you need the extra boost or when you're feeling terrible from your monthlies. Definitely makes you teas with components added for relief and extra strength during battle, because even without offering yourself to Astarion to feed, it doesn't help being bloodless in a fight.

You only find this out after gale takes you to his tower in Waterdeep but, he's a lover of music; composing, playing, listening, he admires it all. He almost admires it more than magic, but then again, magic is literally his whole life. After you two settle down, you can often catch him attempting to compose some notes that make him think of you. Gale is such a romantic, he would want to compose a whole song himself even without any real musical experience. He's taught himself how to play and somehow he ends up creating the most beautiful piece of music just to dedicate it to you.

NSFW

There's no reason for gale to be as beautiful as he is. It's no wonder he's also beautiful under his clothes. That hair covered chest, his waist that hugs his robes so well-- it's maddening.

Witnessing your orgasm (and being the cause of it) is like the entire world to him- he's in awe.

You spend a whole night just exploring each other's bodies, leaving soft kisses on the places you never could beforehand, watching his cheeks pink up in bashfulness. You two go from kissing to lying in between each other's legs before he finally enters you.

Gale has been starved of touch for gods knows how long… So when you get the chance to actually touch him in places you know will rile him up, he practically falls to his knees when he gets to feel your touches for the first time.

In turn every sound he lets out is because of you and he falls smitten even more if it's possible. Every breath, sigh of content or "by the gods…" followed with praises are because of you and he wouldn't trade it for the world.

You're surprised his body hair is so well kept because his tower is anything but. Even with the glorious brown locks that sit atop his head, he has a tendency to keep things neat and tidy on his chest and below, but don't get me wrong. You can't get enough of it all.

He practically sings for you when you run your hands down his chest, down his legs to where he wants you most. Always checks in on you when you're going down on him because god forbid it hurts or you can't take as much as you thought, he never wants you to feel uncomfortable. Especially during intimate moments such as that.

Gale is a thigh man… as much as he wants to use them for a pillow whenever he gets a rest, he also desires them squeezing around his head as much if not more. Suffocate him with your thighs please… he might even come from just that.

He learns to be a receiver of everything you want to give him; it takes him a few tries to get it right, but he learns to welcome your touches, especially if you don't want anything in return from him. He's taken aback by the idea that you can want to give him affection in this way while not wanting to receive.

He's locked on the movements of your hands before they even actually touch his cock, practically drooling at the idea of your touch. But his idea is nowhere near close to what you actually feel like, the warmth of your touch against him has his eyes rolling back into his head with how much he feels just from your simple movements.

He would be nervous about getting you pregnant that he goes out of his way to get an herbal tea to prevent any scares you might have while on your adventure. Because we all know Gale adores getting to fill you up while he's fucking you.

He's also not vulgar, he never has been. Praise after praise after praise will leave his mouth about how good you're making him feel and the way he wishes for you to feel as good as him.

Gale fucks you to a steady rhythm, not to slow or too fast, but in a way he knows will bring you to new heights every time. He relishes in every drag of his cock against your walls like it's the only thing he's ever known. His possession goes insane when he gets close, hips stuttering, higher pitch grunts and connecting his lips to yours are fair signs he's about to burst.

No matter the pace he goes, everything about it is intimate, sensual and passionate; he makes love to you every time.

Is a firm believer of you coming first before he slides himself inside. He would never want you to feel anything less than the level of pleasure he experiences when he's with you.

Gale is a softie when it comes to aftercare; he doesn't worry about himself because he's too focused on making sure you're okay. He lies next to you and cleans up whatever he can so you're comfortable. Even gets you water and a towel to clean off whatever mess was made, whether it was from you or him, and pulls you in close while praising you about how well you did and that he loves you. It's the last thing he wants you to hear before you fall asleep.

[revehae]

two days ago, this blog turned two years old. well, that’s if you ignore the fact that i accidentally deleted my blogs this january. in spite of that, so many of you are still here with me and have been supportive even when i was quite literally losing my marbles. you guys have been patient through my periods of inactivity and reread my fics with the same amount of appreciation for them as you had the first read - if not more. and for that, i say thank you.

but i’m also saying goodbye.

just kidding! i was being serious for too long and so i felt the need to potentially strike some fear into someone’s heart for fun. anywho, no, i’m not actually leaving. not yet, anyway. there is so much more i want to do with this blog and so many ideas i want to share that will most likely carry on to the following year. so yeah, you guys are still stuck with me.

am i taking the two-year anniversary of a mostly k-pop tumblr blog teeming with dark, degenerate fantasies that ought to get me stoned by stubby, hairy ogres way too seriously? perhaps. but i’ll never forget what this blog means to me. i’m in a place now where my trauma is no longer something i feel suffocated by or bound to, but when i created this blog, i admit that there were still large parts of me that felt like i was “broken.” this was only possible because i found safe places where i could acknowledge it without fear of being judged, blamed, or attacked.

i realize not everyone has those places. one of the greatest delights i have is being able to own a blog where people with similar experiences as me are able to confront their pain in a way that makes them feel safe, comfortable, and most importantly, in control.

i went through periods of time where i wouldn’t even leave my room because i was so terrified of being subjected to the same nightmare again. i couldn’t go out in public, because when i did, i was constantly worried that someone was out to give me. this affected my relationships with my friends, family, myself, sex, the world - everything. it is a hell i wouldn’t even wish on Trumpington McDonaldton. or would i? just kidding. not really, considering his track record. but, back to the point, i know what it’s like to live in the dark. i know how unfair it is that someone can swoop in, ruin your life, and never, ever face consequences. meanwhile, you are staring at the consequences of what someone else did every single day. i know what it’s like to blame yourself. i know what it’s like to wish that things were different.

but i also know that as unfair as it is, as painful as it is, and as hard as it may be to accept, no one is going to single-handedly fix you. you have to be your own healer. you have to put the work in to build yourself back up and bounce back stronger than ever. i know firsthand how intimidating that can be, however, in my experience, the first step was not hiding from what i’d gone through. in a way that i originally never thought would be possible, writing and reading noncon fics was one of the most helpful ways of doing that. everything about this blog has been extremely cathartic for me. and the best part about it is that many of you have told me it’s cathartic for you as well, which fills me with a glee words cannot describe.

now, of course, my blog is not limited to Traumatized Individuals who had their brains rewired in the worst way possible via some negative experience - although i doubt you’re not still somehow traumatized if you religiously read my content. if you aren’t a victim of SA, you aren’t going to be crucified for reading noncon. it’s okay. don’t worry. but still, i will always support and stand up for those that are, even if they don’t cope in the same way as me. because not reading is also okay. there are so many different ways to cope with SA; i’m just happy to provide one of them to those that seek it out.

again, thank you all! thank you to those that have been here since the beginning. thank you to those that followed me this week. thank you to those who leave nice messages in my inbox, and reblog, and leave comments. thank you to my dearest sweet mutuals. thank you to those who followed me here from lisired and didn’t unfollow me when you realized i’m a little bit insane. thank you to those that read my fics over and over and never get bored! let’s heal together everyone. but let’s also be depraved and Scare The Hoes. and if you read all of this, i love you and i hope you get everything you ever wanted in life.

- with all of the love in the world, revehae!

[eunseoksimp]

Hilarious ; Jung Sungchan

hi anon, i accidentally deleted the request when i was trying to write this up, but i hope this was what you wanted :) i chose that’s hilarious because i thought it would kind of suit sungchan.

Pairings: Ex boyfriend!Sungchan x Fem!Reader

Genre: angst, songfic

Description: sungchan being the asshole ex who doesn’t realise what he’s lost until it’s gone.

Warnings: swearing

based off of the song hilarious by charlie puth.

.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .

‘it’s been a while.’

winter had fast approached, the once vibrant leaves transforming to a dull brown, muddied and trampled on by passers-by.

it served as a form of metaphor for your life, something that used to be so vivacious, exciting, had become mundane, losing it’s colour.

the reason for this change stood in front of you, nervously twiddling with the ring on his finger. the one you had given him for your one year anniversary.

‘what do you want sungchan?’ your voice is cold, distant, devoid of any sort of emotion. how else were you supposed to feel when your ex shows up after your shift, begging to talk to you.

‘i-i,’ you can tell he has something he wants to say, but seems to have trouble getting the words out. his eyebrows were furrowed, and his lips would part for a couple of seconds, like he was going to talk, before they were shut again.

‘if you don’t have anything useful to say i’m going,’ you’re ready for this interaction to be over, scooting your chair back, the sound of the chair scraping on the wooden floor producing a shrill sound.

you wince, but nonetheless you’re on your feet, wanting so badly to just walk away, but his hands wrap around your wrist, pulling you back.

‘i’ve missed you. a lot,’ his voice is quiet, and he’s looking down at this lap, but his hold is still firm on you.

your skin burns underneath his touch, but it’s nothing on the fire burning in your chest at his words.

it was ridiculous, downright hilarious, to hear those words coming from jung sungchan, of all people.

scoffing, your eyes bore into the side of his face, daring him to stop being a coward and face you.

‘are you fucking kidding me?’ your tone is sharp, and he grimaces at how harsh it is, his lips forming a straight line.

‘is this some kind of joke or something? are you bored? is that why you’ve decided to come and ruin my day?’

‘it’s not a joke, it’s true. you always told me to express how i felt, and i’m trying to do that.’

you laugh, head thrown back, shoulders shaking as he watches you with confusion. there was no way this was your life.

‘you used me, for almost two years. you cast me aside, left me an insecure mess. you made me feel like a placeholder, someone who was only meant to be there to patch the wound left in your heart by that girl. and as soon as she decided she wanted you back, you didn’t even think twice about breaking up with me, on my fucking birthday by the way,’ your frustration had built up inside of you, and begin to spill out, chest heaving, breath laboured, as you struggled to contain all of your anger.

‘you ruined me sungchan. you lied to me, snuck behind my back to see her, called her all those times late at night. you didn’t have the common decency to express your feelings and tell me that you still liked your ex and now you want to talk about expressing how you fucking feel,’ your finger jabs his toned chest, accusatory tone pairing with the way your eyes narrow at him.

‘i was going through things, you know this. we were together for five years, it’s not easy to let go of someone that quickly,’ his weak attempts of defending himself, of putting himself in the seat of victimhood only made you irate.

‘then why did you ask me to be your girlfriend in the first place?’ why did you string me along for almost two whole years when you- when you knew,’ hot tears spill down your cheeks, and you hope he doesn’t think you’re crying because you’re sad.

you’ve passed that stage now, bitterness and disbelief the only remaining feelings you have for him.

‘i know i wasn’t the best boyfriend, but i want to try again. please, tell me there’s a part of you that still loves me,’ you can see that his eyes are glossy, but you find his desperation vile, swallowing to contain the bile that threatens to rise to your throat.

he didn’t love you when he had you, he was indifferent and negligent in your relationship, and you recall the many nights you would lay awake, staring at your ceiling as you wondered what could possibly be making him act like that.

you used to be confident, proud and bold in your self identity, but it slowly dwindled over the 16 months you were together and left you in a pitiful state.

you were just a replacement for his ex-girlfriend, someone to while away the time whilst he waited for the true love of his life to return to him.

he had wasted your time, stringing you along like a fool, attempting to kiss away your concerns, using flowers and gifts to distract you from how he truly felt.

it wasn’t an easy journey, trying to build yourself back up, and there were many days where you felt like you regressed, unhappy with the reflection that stared back at you in the mirror.

now suddenly jung sungchan had experienced a change of heart, realising the value of what he had lost, desperately seeking your attention and expressing his intentions of rekindling the relationship.

what a joke.

‘yes, because it’s so easy to erase all of the pain and trauma you caused me sungchan,’ your voice is laced with sarcasm, highlighting the absurdity of the situation from your perspective.

‘but-‘

‘you’re evil sungchan. the devils incarnate actually for how you have and continue to treat me. you think i don’t know that minjeong mysteriously got a new boyfriend last week,’ you cut him off, finally freeing yourself from his grasp.

‘i wish i had never met someone like you. who knows, i could have found a good man by now,’ you’re gathering your things, no longer even capable of being in his presence without seeing red.

‘is this it? are you really done with me?’ he asks, doe eyes peering at your own, long lashes fluttering with every blink. maybe if he wasn’t such an awful person, you would be able to appreciate his beauty.

‘i was done with you that night you left me for her,’ and without another word you turn on your heel, heading for the exit, without so much as a glance back in his direction.

the cold air nipped at your skin, a small cloud surrounding you as you let out the breath you didn’t even know you were holding in.

as you cut through the car park, spotting you car easily in the deserted lot, you let out another chuckle, unable to properly process the pain and frustration of having given so much of yourself to someone who didn’t value it at the time.

‘lesson learnt. don’t give your heart to someone who’s still got a broken one.’

[damiansgoodgirll]

i miss your writing so much, i hope your doing fine girl💖 we’re here for you

i was wondering if you could write if you feel like it, maybe having a fight with rhea? make it angst please 💘💘💘💘💘

thank you so much love <3

i would say i’m in my healing era but relapsing into old habits is easier than i thought.

i really hope you like this. sorry if it’s too short.

rhea ripley x reader

i care

“can you please look at me?” your girlfriend rhea begged you. you were arguing for the past two hours and not even for one second you met her eyes. too hurt to even look at her face.

“baby…”

“don’t call me baby rhea…just don’t” you were mad and she knew it.

she knew she fucked up and she had no idea how to make you forgive her.

you’ve been waiting at the restaurant for four hours before damian called you telling you that rhea was at the gym training with liv.

you weren’t jealous about liv. she was your friend and you knew rhea didn’t like her. no, you were mad that for the fourth time that month, rhea forgot about the dates you two had.

but this time it wasn’t a simple date. it was your two years anniversary and instead of making it special, she ruined everything.

“it feels like you don’t care…” you said when you almost threw yourself on the couch.

and for a part, you knew rhea didn’t care. she didn’t love you anymore like she did at the beginning. she knew it too but she was to scared to admit it. she knew that if she broke up with you, it would paint her as a villain, as a bad person. you were the kindest person alive and that was made rhea fall in love with you. your kindness and your affection towards people.

but rhea didn’t love you anymore and she was too coward to say it to your face. what would people think if she hurt someone as sweet and kind like you? people would hate her and she didn’t want to face all the backlash that would have happened.

“i do care about you…” she sat next to you.

“not like you used to…rhea, who am i kidding? who are you kidding? you don’t love me anymore, you don’t care about me anymore, you’re cold and distant and everytime i try to have a normal conversation with you…you just shove me apart” you didn’t want to cry but this was hurting you, really bad “you spend all the time in the gym just so you can find me asleep when you come back home…all because you know guilty is eating you alive…i know you too well rhea, you want me to hate you, you want me to scream at your face, you want me to make you cry and o break up with you so you could feel a little less guilty…” you couldn’t believe you knew rhea so well “but it’s not fair…it’s not fair because i’ve been putting all of my energy into this relationship and you aren’t even trying, you didn’t even try…”

“i’m so fucking sorry…” she whispered.

“stop saying it if you don’t mean it!” you didn’t want to scream but saying all of the stuff you kept hidden inside was making you feel better.

“i don’t love you anymore y/n…is that what you want me to say? i don’t love you anymore but gosh…i fucking care about you and i can’t imagine living a life without you in it…i’m so sorry for how things turned out to be…i’m already hating myself so i don’t need you to hate me more” she wiped away her tears with her shaky hands.

she hated herself for hurting you.

she hated herself for making you crying when she swore she would kick anyone who would make you cry.

she hated knowing how love your heart held that you probably wouldn’t even hate her in the end.

“it’s better if we end up this fucked up relationship now…or someone is gonna suffer more” you said and she agreed.

you’ve spent the night wondering where or when did everything start to fall apart. 

were you too clingy? 

did you gain weight?

did her fans hate you?

were you too ugly for being in rhea standards?

you couldn’t understand what you did wrong but you knew that being in a toxic relationship was way much worse than being alone - and in all honesty, you liked having time for yourself.

[flowerhrt]

crave | daisy jones.

pairing: daisy jones x fem!reader

summary: daisy looks back on her life and your relationship after finally getting to marry you.

warnings: mentions of overdose, alcohol consumption, mentions of a past addiction, niccolo argento (his name deserves a warning).

a/n: daisy is a lesbian but the reader's sexuality isn't specified. i used the dates and ages from the book.

word count: 2.3k

the clock read 2:48 am when daisy finished writing her new song. most people would think she was crazy for staying up all night the day after her wedding, but she had never been this inspired before. 

daisy jones got married to her wife y/n l/n on july 17, 2015. a month after same-sex marriage was legalized across the united states and the same date which marked her 36 year anniversary of being clean. her life changed on that date in 1979, and she wanted to celebrate it by getting married that exact same day and month. 

she never thought this was possible. being able to get married to the love of her life, coming out to the entire world, and most importantly, still being alive at 64 years old. she didn’t think she’d ever make it past 30.

“daisy, aren’t you tired? it’s almost 3 am.” the singer looked up from her place on the couch at the sound of her wife’s voice. my wife, she smiled at the thought. 

“i’m fine, my angel. i just had to finish writing this idea for a song i’ve had stuck in my head all day.” she answered. “so you were thinking about music during our ceremony? ouch.” y/n said, placing a hand on her chest, feigning hurt. 

“oh, stop it!” daisy couldn’t help but giggle at her wife’s words. “you know i didn’t mean it like that. i meant that you inspired me to write a new song. i know, this isn’t news to you, but i could write an entire song about you eating a damn sandwich. you’re my favorite person to write about.” 

“what? i thought that was billy dunne.” daisy laughed at the statement, not before sticking out her tongue at her. that was one of the singer’s favorite things about y/n, the fact that even though both of them were well into their sixties, they still acted like two lovesick women in their twenties. 

y/n stayed quiet for a little while after that, just lovingly staring at her. the intense but loving stare made daisy feel nervous, not in a bad way, of course. it made her feel the same knot in the stomach she felt when they met for the first time. it was love. she was feeling love. 

“what is it?” she asked, her face beginning to flush the way it always does whenever her wife, the most beautiful person alive, according to the redhead, looks intensely at her. 

“nothing” y/n answered. “it’s just that seeing you write at 3:00 am is taking me back to all those years ago.” 

daisy let out a soft sigh at the memory of their first years together. when y/n would wake up in the middle of the night to find daisy sitting on the floor, guitar in hand, scribbling new lyrics she had just come up with. it was as if she had traveled back in time, after all, both of them have been in this situation lots of times, but she swore it felt as if they were back in the 70s again.

“well, to make you even more nostalgic, the song i wrote is about that. not about me ruining your sleep schedule, but about missing those times.” she slowly strummed her guitar. “is it okay if i sing it to you?”

her wife took a seat next to the singer and placed a red lock of hair behind daisy’s ear. “it is more than okay, unless it makes me cry, because if that’s the case… then it is not.” 

daisy pecked y/n’s lips and answered with a quick “no promises!” before taking a deep breath and starting to sing.

i can’t wait to memorize this day 

oh, a picture could not contain the way it feels

she smiled as she sang those lyrics. it’s true, she thinks. this is probably the happiest she has ever been, she used to believe people were faking it when they said their wedding day was the best day of their lives, but it turns out they were right. maybe the reason she didn’t believe it is because her last marriage was the worst period of her life.

 sure, she married an italian prince. but was she happy? fuck no. she only did it to find a way out of the hole she dug for herself during the recording of aurora. when she wanted to feel special. when she was only drawn to niccolo argento because he was drawn to her. when her addiction was taking over her life. when she didn’t know it was fine to fall in love with women.

you say, "live in the present" 

i'm already dreaming of how it begins 

when she was little, she always dreamed of having a big wedding with a rich, respectful man. she used to think that was the only way she’d finally get her parents to be proud of her. it took a lot of therapy and self-acceptance for her to finally let go of that dream. she decided she was going to marry for herself and the woman she loved, not her parents.

 the singer was so happy she couldn’t stop crying when it was announced she could finally get legally married to her long-term girlfriend. it may have taken over 30 years, but she was finally married to the love of her life.

and trying to savor the moment

but i know the feeling will come to an end

this is a problem daisy has always dealt with, being scared of people leaving and using her. she was a teenager the first time an older man dragged her into his room and made her have sex with him, he used her and then told her to leave. it’s a pattern she grew used to. get used and then abandoned. it was a shock when she met y/n and realized she actually cared about her, about what she thought, about what she had to say, about her music. 

y/n always reassured her she would never leave, even when things got rough, she always stood by her side. daisy tried to self-sabotage herself several times, always thinking about how she wasn’t worth the love she was getting, but even through all of that, her wife never abandoned her. never used her. never judged her.

so i crave, crave to do it again, all again 

crave, crave, to do it again

it was difficult, it really was. being part of the biggest band in the world and being a woman dating another woman was frightening. but looking back on it now, if she knew all that fear would turn into happiness and she’d end up marrying y/n, she would do it all over again.

just for a second it all felt simple

i'm already missing it

despite all of the fear, a part of her enjoyed the simplicity of their first years together. when they would meet up in hidden places to make out or when they would book hotel rooms adjacent to each other, just to end up sneaking in the middle of the night into the other’s room and sharing a bed. she misses the adrenaline of keeping their relationship a secret, of always having to come up with an excuse during interviews as to why she isn’t dating any famous man.

daisy couldn’t give less of shit about them. the thought of dating a man made her skin crawl. plus, she was dating the most perfect woman alive, how could they think she’d ever look at someone else?

so i crave, crave to do it again, all again.

daisy almost stopped singing at the sight of her wife in front of her. the singer could tell she was trying to fight back tears, she was about to put her guitar down but she knew y/n would get mad at her for stopping. she always tells her to “never stop singing, not even when you see me crying and being a mess. because i’ll cry more if you stop doing what you love.”

so she continued.

i romanticize even the worst of times 

when all it took to make me cry was being alive

daisy hit rock bottom a year before meeting y/n. her life was a mess, her addiction kept getting worse, her ex-husband was a fucking douchebag who didn’t care if she overdosed while on tour, her parents didn’t give her a single thought, and she was trying to understand why she didn’t feel anything towards men but kept wanting the same type of relationship simone had with her girlfriend. 

she wouldn’t go a day without crying or downing an entire bottle of alcohol. it was the worst time of her life, but for some reason she looks back on it fondly. her years of therapy, meditation and healing helped her realize she wouldn’t have the life she currently has if she hadn’t survived those times.

look up and see a reflection 

of someone who never gave way to the pain

daisy looked around their house as she sang those lyrics. their home. it has some plants sitting in the living room, a few framed photos of the band, of her and simone, and of her and y/n placed around the walls. they made sure to leave some space for their wedding photos. she still couldn’t believe it. she lives in a beautiful home with her wife, and the world supports them. they don’t hate them or are repulsed by the thought of them being gay. 

after all, the world could never hate daisy jones.

what if i told 'em that now that i'm older 

there isn't a moment that i'd wanna change?

she thought she was going to break down crying halfway through their wedding ceremony. it’s fucking crazy how far life got her, she went from hiding her sexuality to inviting all of her friends to see them get married. the years have passed and they’re all old now, but the six and simone are still her best friends, seeing all of them together, celebrating their love, made her feel like the luckiest person alive.

now i crave, crave to do it again, all again

crave, crave to do it again

just for a second it, all felt simple

i'm already missing it 

so i crave, crave to do it again, all again 

y/n l/n and daisy jones came out in 1997. it was all over the news, they revealed they’ve been dating since 1977, making it 20 years of keeping their relationship a secret. the only ones who knew about it were their close friends and some of y/n’s family members. the couple were rumoured to just be best friends who live together, but the two of them got tired of having to hide from the world. 

any second, feel the present

future and the past connecting

any second, feel the present

future and the past connecting

daisy closed her eyes as she remembered the day she first met her wife. it was 1977 and she was at simone’s after-show party, she had just recently come out as a lesbian to her best friend, and simone thought it would be nice to have her meet some new people. both her and y/n were closeted during that time, but that didn’t mean y/n wasn’t dating anyone previously. daisy noticed her from afar and thought she was the most breathtaking woman she had ever seen, something she still thinks to this day, and decided to walk up to her. she didn’t know if she was gay too, so she made sure to only make small talk with the girl. 

they were talking about their favorite records when a random girl daisy had never seen before pulled y/n towards her. she saw them having an argument and how the girl kept touching y/n’s arm, something that would make y/n turn her head to see if anyone had noticed. they had a heated conversation until the girl decided to storm out and leave y/n alone. 

when she got back to daisy and anxiously said “i know you saw us, it’s not what you think.” daisy made sure to make her feel better by saying “all i think is that you’re way too cool for that chick.. and i know a thing or two about not being with the right girl.” 

in that moment, a small understanding passed between them. they only gave each other a small smile before continuing their conversation about music.

crave, crave to do it again, all again 

crave, crave to do it again,

just for a second, it all felt simple 

i'm already missing it

so i crave, crave to do it again, all again 

daisy finished singing and rapidly put her guitar down to be able to give her wife a hug. she loved her so much, she was so thankful for her existence and life together. sometimes she still wonders what would’ve happened if she had never gone up to her that night in 1977.

daisy broke the hug and looked into her eyes. “i would tell you i love you so much” y/n started 

“but…” daisy interrupted. 

“but you made me cry and that’s not fair.” her wife continued. the singer playfully rolled her eyes at the sentence. “i did tell you i didn’t promise anything.” she argued.

“but fine, is there anything i can do to make you feel better?” daisy asked. y/n hummed and acted as if she was in deep thought before saying “a kiss from my wife would make anything better.”

daisy answered with a “who am i to say no to my favorite girl?” 

and kissed her wife.

[freshfraise]

Mbappe x reader where he is really possessive and angry and jealous. You can come up with the scenario. Maybe something like what u did for Richi 🫶🏼✨

TERRITORIAL

pairing: mbappe x reader

summary: On the day of one of Kylian’s vital matches, speculations cloud the pitch. Both Y/N and Mbappe learn the crucial power of privacy, realising what people don’t know, they can’t ruin.

author’s note: angst!! possessive and jealous mbappe!! honestly i love writing for him!! plus i tried some new things <33. hope u enjoy and sorry for the long wait :) + i imagined blonde kylian whilst writing this

Kylian startles me, as he comes from behind me and wraps his toned arms around my waist. His chin resting on my shoulder, I let out a long exhalation of relief, feeling a wave of serenity among the bustling Parisian lights. I glanced up, staring deeply into the blinking lights that illuminated the city, and then looked back to Kylian, attaching my lips onto his. Today marked our six month anniversary, and Ky decided to bring us back home to celebrate. Paris always had a special fondness in my heart, as it is where I spent the first seven years of my life, where most of my family resided and where I met Kylian. Although our night had to be cut short due to Kylian’s match at Parc des Princes tomorrow, we both made sure to relish each other’s presence to the fullest.

It was rare we had each other to ourselves like this, due to our demanding and famed lifestyles. If I was free, Kylian had training and if he was free, I had a photoshoot. As if this wasn't enough of a hassle of its own, the added factor of secrecy makes things completely infeasible. Disguises, secret locations and body guards were just some of the thousands of precautions taken to ensure our privacy. So far, it worked, as Kylian was being linked to essentially every Woman in Paris except me. No one had the reason to relate the two of us, as to some, I lived in a completely different universe to Kylian Mbappe. And it was all worth it, as despite everything else about us being in the forefront of the public eye, we finally had something that was utterly and wholly ours. Just ours, and only ever ours.

“Je ne me lasserai jamais de ce vue.” (I will never get tired of this view.) I mention, entirely enthralled by the glimmering tower in front of me.

“Moi aussi.” (Me too.) Kylian responds quickly, and I whip my head back to find his stare unreservedly fixated on me instead of the tower. I smile softly, and drop my eyes to the floor attempting to conceal my bashful state. He can obviously see me try to hide my face, as he erupts into a fit of shameless laughter. This only makes me even more coy, as I physically cover myself with my hands to avoid eye contact. I rest my head on his chest, which reverbates as he continues to laugh at my timidity, as he begins to cradle it and kiss my head. His forwardness has always made me feel shy, which was one of things I liked about him.

“Let me take a picture of you.” He asks, staring directly into my dilated irises. I nod as he takes a couple with me doing funny pictures in front of the tower, some idyllic selfies of the two of us and some with my back turned, facing the view. I decided to choose one to upload to my story, appreciative of the views ahead of me.

-

Game day. I made my way towards the stadium, riddled with nerves. As I sit patiently, my phone lights up seeing Ky’s name appear. I furrow my eyebrows in confusion, since at a time so close to the game, he would never go on his phone, it was apart of his pre game ritual. I answer hesitantly.

“Y/N,” Mbappe says, and my worry quadruples in size.

“Yes?” I answer, and he lets out a sigh. “Ky, what’s up?”

“Have you checked your phone recently? Or seen your twitter?”

“No? Why? Do I need to?”

“Check your messages.”

Suddenly, I get a notification from Kylian, viewing the attachment he sent me. I gasp.

I go silent, and Kylian understands my thoughts, as he begins calling out my name. That was me and him, on the front cover, kissing, for everyone to see. How did we not know? How could we be so thoughtless?

I tune in to our conversation and listen to what Kylian has to say.

“Listen, there’s good news and bad news.”

“Je pense que la mauvaise nouvelle est très évidente, what’s the good news? (I think that the bad news is very obvious,)

“Your face is not seen in the article, that’s good, right?” He says, attempting to lighten the tone. I giggle at his ridiculous positivity.

“It says undetected not unknown, I already know they are just waiting for the perfect time to say my name.”

“Speaking of that, there’s one more piece of bad news. Check your twitter.”

I sigh, and my Twitter is on the verge of crashing down with the amount of notifications I have. I go to the trending page and view my name in capitals.

“Kylian…”

I tap on the hashtag and see tons of threads and tweets labelled:

A TIMELINE OF Y/N Y/L/N & KYLIAN MBAPPE’S RELATIONSHIP

THE FRENCH IT COUPLE: Y/N AND MBAPPE

Y/N & MBAPPE??? UNDER THE EIFFEL TOWER,, KISSING???

Y/N IS THE GIRL IN THE PHOTO AND HERE’S WHY…

“Oh God.” I blurt out, realising just how bad this situation is.

“Yeah… essayez de ne pas trop vous en soucier, d’accord?” (try not to worry about it too much, okay?) Kylian says with his voice soft and gentle, trying to console me. I realise his game is getting closer, and he needs to focus, not calling me.

“You too. I’ll still be rooting for you in the stands. I love you.” I affirm, not allowing any trivial tabloids, trending hashtags or headlines get into my head.

“Je t’aime plus. (I love you more.) See you later, Ma vie.” (My life.)

Eventually, I reached Parc des Princes. This was the first time I would be going to one of his matches, due to our privacy precautions and coincidentally it was also the first time I went out as ‘Mbappe’s girlfriend.’ Great. We planned out this for months, ensuring that I could still have a good view, whilst still being hidden from the public eye, and now that all went to waste. As soon as I stepped out of the Uber, I heard haunting shutters and clicks of cameras, something which still irked me after all the experience. Mbappe made sure to increase the security, even before this whole situation, so I wouldn’t be bothered by anyone. Three different guards surrounded me, and escorted me to the seats, which, initially I thought was excessive, however now, I’m more grateful than ever. After navigating endless hallways and shortcuts, I finally sat down in my seat. I scan the pitch to find him, and I immediately see him, more unfazed than ever. Seeing him like that makes me feel more confident in turn, so I straighten up my posture, cross my legs, fix my hair and breathe. The whistle blows, and I just pray this match goes well.

Within minutes of the whistle sounding, Kylian is smoothly assisted the ball from Hakimi, before a defender from the other team viciously slide tackles into Mbappe’s ankles. He drops brutally. The crowd roars in anger and the referee whistle is sounded. I jump up instinctually, genuinely stressing. To everyone’s surprise, Mbappe limps up and begins to confront the heated defender. They argue aggressively, foreheads pounding, vicious shouts and boyish shoves and grunts consuming the screen. Just as the teammates from the respective teams begin to diffuse the situation, seemingly reaching a state of stillness, the defender utters something, which was completely unintelligible on the screens, but was clear enough to make Kylian charge towards him again.

Kylian releases himself from his frenzied team mates grasp and dashes towards him. Still provoking him with his comments, Kylian shoves the player with his utmost force and in turn, he drops to the ground immediately, rolling around to finish off the performance. I could tell Ky was extremely, extremely irritated by him, and was on the brink of losing control. The melodramatic player stops rolling around and gets back up, muttering more comments towards him. Kylian finally reaches his edge, as he shoves the player with intense acceleration. The crowd jumped in shock, the game turning into utter chaos as both teams failed to diffuse the situation miserably. The referee swiftly puts a red card above his head, something that Kylian was practically waiting for. He knew what he did was stupid. Before he left, I could make out the words ‘Parlez encore d'elle’, ‘Redis son nom’ and ‘Voir ce qui se passe’.

I could tell he was still angry as he left the pitch, as he ignored consoles from his manager and teammates and headed straight out towards the tunnel leading them back to the changing rooms. Suddenly, I make the executive decision to go, picking up my feet and explaining to bumptious guards that I am perfectly capable of going to the bathroom by myself.

Reaching the hallways, I hear the thump and strikes of objects being hurled around the room laced with a string of unrefined french swears. I breathed out Kylian’s name, before following the sounds as it became increasingly louder. I perceive erratic breathing and I become alarmingly worried at his state. Placing my fingers upon the door, I push outwards revealing the catastrophic conditions of the changing room. I see him, sitting on the floor against a disfigured locker door. His head hung back, facing the ceiling and his eyes pinched shut, as if he was trying to erase something from his mind. I murmur his name from under my breath, and he looks up at me, prolonging unfeigned eye contact. I begin to make my way towards him, before Kylian jumps up and moves back from me. I frown, puzzled but nonetheless I remain immobile maintaining a gut wrenching distance.

“Ky, qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?”(What’s wrong?) I ask gently, tilting my head and giving him further inspection. I glance down to his knuckles, bruised and red. “Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé là-bas?” (What happened down there?) My voice slowly started to become less and less unfaltering as it grew with concern.

He shakes his head and compresses his lips together, his hands placed firmly on his hips. He starts pacing around the room, opening up and closing his mouth in an attempt to formulate a sentence. Seeing him this anxiety-ridden makes my heart pound with sympathy, so in a couple strides, I come towards Kylian and grab his attention. I cup his face, staring into his dilated irises. I see flicks of hesitation scan his face, before I begin to calm him down.

“I love you. You can trust me.” I reassure him, as his broad shoulders slowly become less uptight.

“I know I can. C'est moi, en qui je n'ai pas confiance..” (It's me, who I don't trust.) He mutters shamefully, expressing the extent of his anger.

“Well I do. I trust you completely.”

Kylian heaves, before his attentive glare left mine and watched the walls. “He- They know about you. He was talking about you on the pitch. The whole team.” I sigh, before softly dropping my hands from his face. He notices this, as he grabs my hands to hold them before they fall against my sides.

“What did they say?”

His head hangs low, and his gaze meets the floor. I look up at him searching for the eye contact I desire, but his eyes remain glued to the ground. “Ky-” I’m cut off as he looks back at me.

“First they said you were pretty. They kept saying your name, congratulating me for getting someone as sexy as you. Afterwards, they began to threaten me about how I need to get up from the ground so I won’t embarrass you. Then one of them started to talk about how they can treat you better. That they can fuck you better than me. When I pushed him down, his teammates started to say the same thing, saying your name, imitating you, moaning. It was disgusting and I’m sorry that you-”

I connect my lips onto his, overwhelmed. It felt like the only correct answer at the moment, as Kylian’s temper was rising by the minute. His resentment translated into ardent concupiscence, as his hands shifted against my body frantically. His hands in my hair, and my arms linked around his shoulders. I hoped my appreciation for him was communicated. A million thoughts condensed into one single moment.

I slowly detach my lips from him, as our foreheads touch. Trying to regain my breathing, I still see Ky’s eyes closed and his lips pressed together. Eventually, his eyes flutter open and I begin to laugh at his state. Face flushed, red lipstick staining his lips it was truly a heavenly sight. As our laughs reverberated against the changing room, he grabbed my waist and pressed it towards him in a snug embrace. After a few beats of silence, I place my chin on his chest to look up, “Is it bad to say I like it when you’re jealous?” He looks down and furrows his eyebrows. His dimple pops up as he talks, “I wasn’t jealous.” I laugh at his denial, because clearly his actions presented differently.

“So getting a four match ban isn’t a result of your jealousy?” I remark snarkily as Kylian pouts, slightly saddened by my words. I laugh quietly to myself, before I apologise profusely and kiss the tip of his nose.

He continues to plead his case saying “Je ne suis pas jaloux, je suis territorial. (I am not jealous, I am territorial.) Jealousy is when you want something that’s not yours, and I was just protecting what’s already mine.”

-

[grannanna]

In Defense of Carlotta

So I was rewatching the Royal Albert Hall version of POTO and I kinda came to a realization: Carlotta didn’t entirely deserve what was going on.

I’m not saying she wasn’t a jerk. She is a primadonna for crying out loud. She’s got the ego of a peacock, but she’s still human.

At the beginning of the musical during her rendition of Think of Me and the bit between that version and Christine’s version, she gets attacked by the phantom. Of course everyone knows it’s the phantom but the managers all kinda just blow it off. We see her get upset and leave the opera cause she’s pissed.

You could frame this as her being a perfectionist OR you could see this as a woman finally breaking after years of abuse from a ghost of a man.

She says that “for three years these things keep happening” and that the previous manager never did anything to stop them. He simply paid the phantom and then kept casting her in the lead roles.

The phantom wants two things and that is to get Christine on stage and then into his arms. So, he sees Carlotta as an obstacle and has probably been attacking her for all those three years.

And what happens when she complains? When she gets scared and looks for someone to aid her? She gets either one of two responses:

The person is too scared of the opera ghost to do anything.

The person doesn’t believe in the opera ghost and acts like she’s crazy.

Both result in someone telling her “these things do happen.”

So can you blame her for leaving after she got close to dying AGAIN?

And then less than a week after leaving she finds out that they replaced her already? After all that talk about how she was the best of the best, the crème de la crème, her years and years of training, they replace her. And not only do they replace her, but they replace her with practically a teenager who has been getting trained by the very man that keeps trying to murder her?!

No wonder she was so angry when she stormed into the letters scene! Those she trusted had replaced her, sent her a taunting note, and then had the gall to ask her to come back!

I think this also recontextualizes the majority of Primadonna. These jerks are asking her to come back and of course she’s hesitant, she doesn’t wanna get almost assassinated again, but that tiny bit of vanity and pride comes up in the back of her mind.

Furthermore her “public needs” her. This could be the pride but I like to imagine her thinking of a little girl in that audience that wants nothing more than to be like her. Music was one of the only arts and ways to make money open to women at the time. Shes an example of how women can be independent in this world.

And ya know what? This man is trying to ruin her life. He doesn’t know her, but he keeps tryin to intimidate her and make her give up on something she clearly has a passion for. If you watch the recording of the 25th anniversary version of Primadonna, after the phantom gives his good ol “imma mess up the show” threat, she cocks her head and gives a little smirk. Shes saying “screw you. I worked hard for this. I spent years of my life, hours of my time, all of my energy, to be the best of the best and not you nor any spooky ghost can stop me!”

In the next opera, Carlotta and Christine are clearly having fun playing opposite each other. You could argue that this was just for the opera to go well, but I can tell you as an ex-actress myself that feelings towards your cast mates can get past you and the audience will see it.

(For instance, in high school I was playing opposite a guy I had a crush on and he had a crush on me, so when we went to a clinic (judges giving you advice on your show before competition) the judge basically told us to decide whether or not our characters liked each other or not cause it was making it too complicated for the stage. (For context we were playing Jo and Laurie. Laurie likes Jo, Jo doesn’t like him like that) Once the play was over we started dating. TLDR the audience will know if actors do or don’t like each other)

So Christine and Carlotta are having a good time because I think Carlotta realizes this isn’t Christine’s fault. Someone was going to have to take on the roll and it gave this young artist a start. Plus, it’s not Christine’s fault the Phantom became obsessed with her. He could have chosen literally anyone and Christine just happened to be the (un)lucky girl. I don’t see any evidence of Carlotta holding any grudges against Christine in this scene.

Also, this is just a minor thing, but I think that this was the right casting for this specific opera. Carlotta is much more voluptuous than Christine. She can’t exactly Mulan herself but Christine is younger and smaller and therefore can. This isn’t a talent thing this is basic casting. The entire opera is more important than the phantoms obsession. Also, the page boy is still a good role! If anything it seems like a pivotal role that just happens to be a mute one! The phantom should be excited that they’re not just throwing Christine back to the ballet dancers!

And then, when everything is going well, when she thinks that maybe the opera ghost has given up, that terrible voice announces that she and the mangers have pissed him off. You can see in her face she’s trying to be strong but she is scared. Shes not angry. She’s not petty. She’s scared.

She only gets mad at Christine when she reacts to the phantom. Yeah she acts like a jerk, calling her a toad. But the man trying to kill her is talking and the girl he is obsessed with his looking around for her “angel” which is Carlotta’s angel of death. So she’s gonna get mad. She’s gonna yell at Christine even during the show cause that’s her only outlet at the moment.

I would like to note here that that is a dick move on Carlotta’s part. However, we just had the two having a good time and we don’t know for sure that Carlotta didn’t apologize afterwards. We have a whole time skip between acts. The two could have made up.

But back to the show, the phantom seems to magically curse her to croak like a toad. In the version I saw in high school she took a sip of water that had something the phantom put in it to make her croak, but in the 25th version, you don’t see that. For all she knows this is no longer just a creepy guy but a literal ghost that just cursed her to sound like a frog! Getting rid of the thing she holds most dear! Her voice! No wonder she’s scared! Hell she starts crying! And Christine even tries to comfort her! Further proving that Christine is an angel and that the two could have developed somewhat of a working friendship/relationship.

And in her moment of terror what do the managers do? They replace her again! After all that talk about how they needed her the minute she becomes an obstacle they throw her out of the way.

She probably doesn’t have any time to process that before seeing that the phantom ACTUALLY KILLED SOMEONE! Any of that little hope she had that it was all just threats and taunts is out the window when the master of the fly ACTUALLY DIES! Hes killed and the phantom laughs and parades the corpse around like a piñata!

After that he manages to make a giant chandelier explode?!? If Carlotta doesn’t think that the phantom is an actual ghost before then she does now!

But a long while later, everything seems to go back to normal. We don’t know what happens in the meantime but we skip ahead to Carlotta managing to attend a masquerade party back at the opera. She’s all in black and back in her “don’t f with me I have the power of god and opera music on my side” vibes.

She doesn’t get much screen time here but we get three major lines from her.

“What a delight”

“Watching us and watching them”

“May its splendor never fade”

And “no more notes”

We can glean three things from this. Life has been good. The ghost has finally left her alone, and she’s got her art back. Her passion back! And I like to headcannon that she’s become a better person in this time and that’s why she’s dressed like she is.

If she was really still vain and conceited, she’d be wearing the most elegant angelic or queen-like dress she could find, but she’s instead a witch.

She’s dressed as who she used to be. She may have evolved and come to terms with sharing the spotlight hence why she says “watching US” She’s in a better place now that death isn’t breathing down her neck.

(Unrelated but also anyone notice Madame Giry with a young handsome dude? Is Giry a cougar and we just never noticed?)

And then, as everything is going good again, THE PHANTOM SHOWS UP AGAIN! And he’s literally LITERALLY dressed as the red death! A literal manifestation of Carlotta’s fears surrounding this monster of a man.

Yes Carlotta then becomes a jerk when she gets only a tiny part, which I will say she should have expected. The guy who wants you dead writes an opera and you expect him to give you a large role? Girl? You on the same planet as the rest of us? Once again, pride and vanity are kinda her big things.

Yet she still agrees to do it cause people are in actual danger now. And as she says “the things I have to do for my art!”

And yet she jumps back down the hole that she and the phantom are both in: blaming others for their problems. She thinks Christine is in line with the phantom and therefore blames her. She isn’t as… shall we say croaky about it but she still does point the finger. And yet she does seem to get a little worried when she thinks Christine is completely backing out. I mean after what happened last time Christine didn’t play the lead..

And then the phantom sends his note and once again you can see the horror and then also embarrassment when the phantom insults her acting.

Another headcannon is that yeah she does have an amazing voice there is no doubt about it, but she seems nervous about her acting. Maybe she knows her acting isn’t as good as her singing and realizes that if she messes up this time let’s just say she won’t get another chance.

(Also did the phantom really have to fat shame Piangi?)

And as the phantom addresses Christine in the note, I think Carlotta flops sides again when she hears that Christine has basically left the phantom. Hes not training her anymore. She had no idea of this. And if you can zoom in on her face in the background, you can see that Carlotta looks guilty for just yelling at this girl that’s just as terrified of the phantom as her if not more so!

And then she smirks again when Christine says no so then there goes that argument. And then again she goes back to pointing fingers but this time at Giry. Granted Giry does have some blood on her fingers so she has a point but once again EVERYONE IS SCARED OF THE PHANTOM! What makes Giry any different?! And when that pointing doesn’t work it goes back to pointing at Christine cause she can’t take into account anyone’s suffering but her own.

Then Christine had her break down and Carlotta comments “she’s mad.” But look at how she says this. Shes not making fun of her, she’s not belittling her, she’s worried about her. She sees the madness she’s experiencing is happening to others too. I think this is the final time she flips back to sanity. She realizes she’s not the only woman cursed by the phantom.

And while we can’t see much of her after Raoul’s solo we do see her almost run after a terrified Christine.

Yes she’s still jealous of Christine, we see that with the looks she gives during the rehearsal for Don Juan, but we also see something else I’ve been neglecting.

She’s an amazing friend to Piangi.

She gets upset when people correct him. He gives her support after almost being murdered and walks out with her. He pumps her up, she pumps him up. She compliments his skills and never once gets mad that he gets a role and she didn’t. I mean she’s mad she didn’t get a role but she’s still happy for Piangi! She’s willing to stand up to the phantoms writing not for herself but for her friend Piangi. And she backs down not for herself but for PIANGI. And she gets mad when he gets stressed and she gets stressed when he’s stressed and she’s a dick to everyone else but at least she’s a good friend to the few she has.

Which is why it’s probably for the best that we don’t see her react to Piangi’s death in this version.

Carlotta is definitely not perfect. But I don’t know if she’s entirely evil. She has been hurt by the phantom as much as anyone and deserves a future of peace just as much as anyone else does because that could allow her to grow.

Anyway rant over.

[wheels-of-despair]

Worth It | Ralph Penbury x You | Masterlist

{<-Previous} [My Good Friend Mary] {Next->}

Summary: Ralph brings you a present that's also a prop in your masterful plan to keep your mother in the dark. Words: 1.3k

You returned to the park every day.

You'd told your mother you were meeting your new friend Mary Lennox, who had just left her palace in India behind for a mansion in London. She was a strange and lonely girl, who knew nothing of city life, so you'd volunteered to be her guide. Mary was very shy, and only comfortable with you for now, but you promised you would bring her home with you eventually. And perhaps your mother would receive an invitation to tea with Mary's exceedingly rich parents one day.

Except there was no Mary Lennox. There was only Ralph Penbury. Mary was the protagonist in The Secret Garden. You had once asked your mother to read it with you, back when you wanted to be close to her, but she never did. The only things your mother ever read were newsletters from her ladies' groups. How boring that must be.

You dared only spend a few hours with him a day, but you treasured every second of your visits. You'd meet at your secret bench at noon, share a picnic lunch packed by his kitchen staff, and discuss everything from books, to philosophy, to what the world might look like in a hundred years.

Your parents had noticed an improvement in your general demeanor since the Valentine's Day dance, but attributed it to your new friend Mary. You'd never had a friend that close before, always holding everyone at an arm's length. They need not know that your arms were actually wrapped tightly around Ralph Penbury.

"I brought you something."

"I see that," you note with amusement from your position on the bench, having arrived first today. He's carrying a neatly wrapped box with a large bow on top. "What's the occasion?"

"Does a man need an occasion to shower his lady-friend with gifts?"

"Oh. I thought it may have been for our anniversary," you tease.

Ralph nearly drops his package in shock, a look of pure panic on his face.

"Relax, Ralph," you laugh, "I'm only teasing. Unless you intended to celebrate eight days together."

"I intend to celebrate every day together," he says matter-of-factly. Your heart flutters. Stop that, you think.

He takes his seat, and places the box between you.

"Well, open it!" he says excitedly.

You slowly untie the bow, rolling up the ribbon so as not to ruin it, and set it aside. Then you begin peeling off the paper at a snail's pace, careful not to rip it, deliberately driving Ralph crazy.

It's working. It looks as if it's taking everything he has to not lean over and rip the paper off for you. But Ralph remains polite, sitting as still as he can, trying to pretend he's not frothing at the mouth.

"What's the matter, Ralph? Am I going too slow for you?"

He looks surprised for a moment, then realizes that you're teasing him again. A sour expression flashes over his face, and he crosses his arms and huffs adorably. You laugh and rip the paper, and suddenly he's excited again. You love playing with him.

You crumple the paper and lift the lid off your box. Inside is a large book about India.

You look at him in confusion. "Open it!" he says eagerly.

You crack open the front cover. Inside is a message, in a woman's handwriting. Leaning closer, you read:

To My Newest and Dearest Friend,

Now you can see the places I tell you about in all my stories!

Thank you for being so kind and welcoming to me as I adjust to my new home. I could not do it without you.

Love, Your Good Friend Mary

"I thought it would help sell the story of Mary Lennox to your mother," he explains.

"Indeed it will," you laugh. "Did you write this?"

"No. Well, I wrote the words. I had the maid copy it into the book."

"Oh, you're a clever one, Mr. Penbury," you admire. He beams.

"Look at this!" He pushes the empty box to the ground and moves closer to you, flipping through the book and showing you his favorite pictures. You try to focus on the book as he gushes about the animals and architecture of India, but you can't keep your eyes off of him.

You've never seen a person get so excited about everything before. You'd always been a stoic, so much in fact that your mother spent most of your childhood wondering aloud if there was something wrong with you. You'd sometimes questioned this yourself.

But Ralph? Ralph got excited about everything. You breathed in that pure, unadulterated joy like oxygen. When Ralph was happy, you were happy. Even over something simple, like spotting a pretty butterfly or a vendor selling a treat he'd never tried before. You wonder if you'd felt more joy in these last eight days than you had in your entire life.

Everything had changed that night at the dance. After a lifetime of shutting people out, choosing to stay home whenever possible and lose yourself in a book rather than join clubs or attend sleepovers, you suddenly felt like your presence wasn't bringing the room down. (You'd actually been accused of this on more than one occasion. You pretended like it hadn't bothered you, but it had.) But you didn't feel that way with Ralph. Ralph looked at you like he was happy you were by his side. It was a feeling that would take some getting used to.

The bells in the clock tower began to ring, snapping you out of your introspection. Ralph closes the book and hands it to you, reaching for the picnic basket with a frown.

"I'm sorry, I got carried away. You should have stopped me." He begins unpacking the basket with a blush on his face.

"I didn't mind. If my mother decides to quiz me about India, I will definitely be prepared," you wink.

"You can tell me to shut up, you know. I won't be offended. Sometimes I need to hear it." He takes a bite of his sandwich and looks at the ground as he chews. Tell Ralph to shut up? You could never! You'd sit and listen to him talk all day if you could. You love his voice, and the way his face tells a story of its own, and that he has opinions on everything.

"Well, you'll never hear it from me," you tell him firmly. He looks up in surprise. "I love listening to you," you shrug, suddenly very interested in your lunch. You pretend not to notice Ralph swipe at his eyes.

After a few minutes, Ralph makes a comment about cucumbers, and the conversation returns to normal. You spend the rest of your time together as happily as any other day, until the clock chimes again.

"I can't believe I wasted half of our time together rambling about a book. I really am sorry," he apologizes again, stuffing everything back into his basket. He stands with a sigh and offers you his hand. You leave your book on the bench and rise to embrace him.

"Ralph, I could spend the rest of my life listening to you read bread recipes," you admit.

He giggles and nuzzles his nose into your neck. You hold him tighter, wishing you never had to let him go. But the bells begin to quiet, and it's time for you to go home. You reluctantly release him and pick up the very thoughtful gift he'd brought you.

"Thank you," you say, clutching the book to your chest, wishing you could say more.

[yupyor]

The Thing About Midnight

Summary - Jason takes you out on a date in the middle of the night, saying it's far more romantic when more than half of the city is asleep.

You sighed, the day's exhaustion you had accumulated through the day getting to you. Jason was still getting ready, shouting now and then to prevent you from being on with everyone else, and falling asleep.

It was your 2nd anniversary. The day you and Jason met each other, and instantly sealed the deal. The day you both looked at one another, and decided that each other was the one.

It was odd at first, if you're being honest. At the beginning he would constantly disappear for a prolonged period of time, and then abruptly show up back with a subtle scar, or a few bruises here and there. It had you more than confused, and primarily concerned. It took him almost a year, and the painful moment of your relationship's near-death experience, for him to fess up about his otherworld activities.

It was scary, knowing the danger he was making him self susceptible too—though in the end it also had you liking him more. You don't know why, honestly, but the fact that he was an undercover vigilante out to make the world a better place made him even hotter. Like it gave you bragging rights, lol.

"Yea! My man fights to make the world a better place, literally. What does yours do?"(that was my attempt at humor, LOL)

You smiled, the softness of your expression not going unnoticed by the sudden figure that loomed over you.

"Is that what sleep deprivation looks like for you?" Jason joked, wearing nothing but a wet black towel wrapped around his waist. He looked better with his hair wet. "Normally people'd get cranky, so you smiling 5 seconds after yelling at me irritatingly through the door has me scared."

You ignore the comment, looking into the deep blues of his eyes, smitten. Now that you think about it, you've never actually told him how much you fell for him. Sure, you've both said the occasional I like you, and oftentimes I love you, but you never went into depth with it.

You were in a dark place when you had met each other, and he had stuck with you throughout that despite the present difficulty, guiding you to your way out, and simultaneously to happiness.

So in a way, he saved you. He saved your heart, and it would be unfair to not tell him, especially on your 2nd anniversary. You've already missed the first one, putting it off as trivial, thinking he already knew—but it wouldn't hurt just to make sure, or at least confirm his suspicions.

So you leaned back as far as you could with the chair supporting you, and nestled into his hunched form, making sure to make the eye contact of your life, and whispered, "I love you."

It came slowly at first, though all at once. The confusion, fear, and utter bliss coinciding in his eyes, and the contorts of his brows leaving you appalled. He seemed conflicted, and that made you question whether you had said something wrong. Which was very alarming considering you had only just said the 3 most important words that anyone who loved you could, like, ever say... Till he wasn't.

Jason smiled, the raw endearment in the depths of his eyes making more of a sight to see than his damp chiseled form wetting the floor beneath him, only breaking the lingering silence to mutter a few cherished words of his own.

"I know." He reaffirmed, the curves of his lips edging into a broader smile than before. It had lacked his usual smugness, devoured entirely by the moment between the two of you. "But I love you more!" Though thinking it would last was a fool's expectation.

The laugh that broke out of you at the revelation ruined whatever you both had going on at that moment.

"I'm serious!" You bemoaned, and all Jason could do was smirk, albeit fondly. He liked seeing your smile. It made him happy. He doesn't think we could go a day without at least seeing it once.

Making sure to leave a brief kiss on your forehead, Jason parted from you with a quick, "I have to get ready," disappearing into the darkness of your living room, and more than likely heading straight for your shared bedroom.

Maybe this night wouldn't be as bland and tiring as you had first thought it out to be. Maybe this would amount to be the most special night you and Jason would have throughout the longevity of your relationship—and maybe this night would make you fall even more for him.

Though you hope you both could eventually upstage it.

It was then you realized your love for Jason was beyond comprehending.

He was just... the one. A fact that will permanently remain true.

[evita-shelby]

A different sort of man

part ii

Gif by @nofckingfighting

The witch scours through every book on magic she owns, and Thomas spends the time trying to see how different this Tommy’s life is from his.

The tattoo on his hand is different.

Instead of TGC, he sees an entwined E and T. Same monogram on the linens, tiles on the floors and carved on his own desk.

“You got it done on our first anniversary in 1921, we didn’t have Charlie yet.” The witch answers as she tossed another book into the stack and leafed through the next one. “Charlie was born in 1922, September to be exact. We eloped on June 1920 and a month ago we had a church wedding to cover up the Russian business and because our families ---mainly Polly and my aunts--- demanded we pretend to be good catholic people despite us being atheists.”

“How do you know about the Russians?” he tensed.

He didn’t confide in anyone save Polly, he couldn’t trust Grace even after three years. Too many lies, too many things ruined by her presence alone.

Even his family was distancing themselves from him because they can’t stand her.

“Because you tell me things, we are not just husband and wife, we are also business partners, have been since I told you Grace was the rat and told Campbell about Black Star Day.” She answered before muttering a curse, tossed the book and began searching through the couch cushions.

Lucky, lucky Thomas Shelby, this Tommy has a wife he can trust, with a good head on her shoulders and a spark of gypsy magic.

Something gnaws at him because he knows he cannot even begin to comprehend why he even sought Grace out in London in the first place.

“Should your stay last longer than it should, I am perfectly equipped to handle everything the other you has left pending. I act as your proxy when you aren’t available, if I do need you to make an appearance, I will brief you on it.” The witch runs a tight ship it seems.

“Mrs. Shelby, Mrs. Gray is here.” Mary, the same housekeeper he employes said with a little more warmth than her counterpart.

“Thank you, Mary. Please send her in, I am afraid it is rather urgent.” She thanked the housekeeper with a smile.

Grace was not an easy woman to please, demanded perfection, demanded that everyone knew their place and would never have even acknowledged Mary with a smile.

Where had this woman been all these years, he found himself asking.

“71 Watery Lane, with my daj, Ethel Smith.” She answered his unspoken question to his horror.

“You aren’t you.” Polly cuts to the chase as they meet in his office.

“No. Believe it or not, when I went to sleep my wife’s name was Eva, my son Charlie was five months older and I would have never sought out Grace Burgess for what she did to us six years ago.” Tommy explained to Polly, she was closer to the original one, but there was a coldness to their interactions.

He couldn’t blame her, Eva had told him that Grace believed Pol to have incestuous feelings toward him and assumed it was jealousy and not disgust because she saw her for who she was.

“If only that version of you had your sensibility, boy.” His aunt said with pity aimed at the man whose body he occupied.

This Thomas had a similar tattoo on his hand, except for the monogram Eva has on tiles and linens, there is a G for Grace, a C for Charles and a T for Thomas.

This man’s feelings were not strong enough to keep it just their initials, he had to add the baby that turned a fuck up into his life.

“Yeah, if only.” He found himself agreeing as he tossed the photograph of Grace into a drawer.

This house was a dark and gaudy shrine to her and him, he had not been surprised to know she had not curtailed his less than fashionable décor. Worse, Grace Burgess had enabled him.

Grace’s tastes seemed to exist within the confinements of her wardrobe and even that was questionable.

If Eva were here she would have burned the garish purple wedding dress with unabashed gusto, along with every portrait he commissioned.

He missed her, not even three hours apart from her and he wants to return to her and his much, much happier life.

“What do we know about Eva Smith, granddaughter of Ethel Smith at 71 Watery Lane?” he doesn’t hear the quiet gasp until Polly’s dark eyes zero in at the woman spying on them.

Fuck.

Fuck him, fuck her, fuck them all.

If Grace was just as he remembered, she will be calling the All Saints’ Hospital to throw him in there before the sun sets today.

As if he didn’t already have the Russians to deal with too.