#she once went OFF because i’m afraid of bugs and ‘most girls’ are afraid of bugs but SHE isn’t afraid of them

[gamerwoo]

really sucks when you realize you and a friend have just kind of grown up as two different people and don’t mesh together like you used to and like you have so much history you don’t wanna let go of but you’re absolutely miserable in the friendship

[boythirteen]

I loved that you posted things all day. I found you everywhere. I love you. It was mostly a rainy day here and I read all your posts and finished writing my sermon and made a drawing, too. In the sermon I had to make the present tense be like it was past because of when I’ll be reading it to them. It doesn’t have a title yet.

SERMON Hello everyone. Thank you, Rev. Pat, for inviting me to preach today. I started writing this sermon from a motel room in Myrtle Beach, which is where Frances and I ended up on our bike trip. I remember preaching at almost this same time last year and telling everyone about our bike trip in Florida. But this year we didn’t go to Florida, mainly because the government in Florida hates lgbtq+ people, especially trans people, more overtly than most other states, and we didn’t want to be there. So, instead, we rode our bikes from here to Myrtle Beach, which was another kind of adventure that did include ugly things like confederate flags and Trump flags and Lets go Brandon signs. But supportive things, too, like Love is Love banners and gay flags and conscientious drivers who passed us with such care. This was a new feeling I had about cars passing around us on the narrow 2-lane roads, how some cars were gentle and others menacing like the wide trucks with revved up engines seeming to want to blow us off the edge. I don’t mean to stereotype but it simply was true that the revved up trucks were the aggressive ones. And something else I felt, an unsettling thing, was the implied threat in American flags and worse, in signs praising Jesus. Which were threats I’d been feeling already but in a starker way now, and with a more pronounced personal vulnerability. I felt more literally exposed. A few times along the way I had disturbing flashes of scenes from the movie Easy Rider, even. And when I took off my t-shirt to swim, when I bared my manly trans chest as I’ve always so loved to do, I felt an acute self-consciousness that alarmed me. I had a fearful sense that, because of anti-trans sentiment, people would be far more aware of what trans-masculine top surgery scars looked like and so would spot mine and be hostile to me. Which didn’t happen, though. And the trucks didn’t really blow us off the road. And no one was mean to us except once a teenager screamed faggot at me and a girl in a convertible VW bug with peace signs and flower decals all over it flipped us the bird as she passed by. Overall the bike trip was full of fun and sun and wholesome encounters and challenges and feelings of awe at creation. I’m telling you about the insecurities, too, because I think that all of this has something to do with the gospel verse about faith, or with my own relationship to faith that I can explore. Faith in God and in myself and in humanity.

This is the verse from Matthew:

Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd. After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. Later that night, he was there alone, and the boat was already a considerable distance from land, buffeted by the waves because the wind was against it. Shortly before dawn Jesus went out to them, walking on the lake. When the disciples saw him walking on the lake, they were terrified. “It’s a ghost,” they said, and cried out in fear. But Jesus immediately said to them: “Take courage! It is I. Don’t be afraid.”

“Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.” “Come,” he said. Then Peter got down out of the boat, walked on the water and came toward Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid and, beginning to sink, cried out, “Lord, save me!” Immediately Jesus reached out his hand and caught him. “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?” And when they climbed into the boat, the wind died down. Then those who were in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”    

So, a lot of things have happened in this chapter before the verses we’re reading today. John the Baptist has been be-headed and Jesus has been told about it. Jesus tries to have a solitary time to process this but crowds of people follow him, becoming the multitude that Jesus feeds with the scant loaves and fishes. Then Jesus sends the disciples ahead in the boat and takes time alone on a mountainside. Then he walks on the water.

Something else about our bike trip was that we rode on ferries, 5 of them I think, and 2 of them that were really long rides. Which was kind of like riding bikes across the water, or like getting across the water in a miraculous way. And still another thing was the wind, how strong it was, and whether it was a head wind or a tail wind, and how it made so much difference which one. Riding the bike could either feel like flying or like pushing against a solid wall, or something in between. Mostly, for us, it felt like flying. Having the wind at one’s back is a wonderful thing to wish for people, I’ve learned. May the wind be ever at your back. But the wind in the gospel verse was a head wind.

The reading from I Kings also talks about wind. When Elijah is standing on the mountain waiting for God to pass by, a great and powerful wind {tears} the mountains apart and {shatters} the rocks before God, but God {is} not in the wind. God isn’t in the earthquake or the fire, either. God is a gentle whisper Elijah hears. Which seems, to me, to mean that God isn’t using dramatically elemental, external things to impress or overwhelm or intimidate Elijah, but is instead a gentle voice that Elijah can hear inside of himself. God is internal. And what stands out to me in the reading about Jesus walking on the water is that the faith—and lack of faith—being exemplified by Peter isn’t faith in Jesus’s power to do a miraculous thing, but Peter’s faith in himself to do it. Jesus doesn’t need Peter to believe in what Jesus is doing. Jesus is walking on the water whether Peter believes it or not. He’s not being a show-off about it, either, but is just calmly doing it almost absent-mindedly.  And Peter doesn’t fully believe anyway. He needs the proof of Jesus calling out to him to come. So Jesus says “come” and Peter walks on the water toward Jesus. But when Peter becomes afraid he starts to sink and cries out to Jesus to save him. And Jesus reaches out to him to save him and says: You of little faith. But Peter seems to have enough faith in Jesus’s ability to save him. He just doesn’t have enough to believe that he, Peter, can walk on the water, even after Jesus tells him to come and proves to him that yes, he actually can. Peter’s lack of faith is in himself, not in Jesus.

I keep running this around in my thoughts and kind of arguing with myself about it, though. I’m thinking to myself: But still Peter’s faith needed to be in Jesus initially, in a belief that Jesus’s power would enable Peter to walk on the water. It wasn’t a belief in some personal power Peter could find in himself to do it. Peter’s short-lived demonstration of faith required that Jesus be there to speak it, to say come.

But what if Peter’s belief in divine power and also in his own power are the same thing, the same belief, the same presence and/or absence of faith? Peter can do all things through Christ who strengthens him. We can do all things through Christ who strengthens us. I think this is what’s revelatory. We have divinity inside of us and can believe in it and do all things. We can believe in ourselves because of believing in the divinity inside of us. This is our individual faith.

And we can have a collective faith in humanity, too, in our collective ability to do all things. I’m thinking of us as a whole perhaps being of greater faith collectively than we are individually, with all of us having differing measures of individual faith, sometimes with spurts of great individual faith like Peter’s first steps and other times with faith-shattering fear like Peter’s. It was fear that negated Peter’s faith and caused him to sink, so an aspect of faith must be that we face our fear. But when Peter’s fear overcomes him, Jesus steps in. And maybe we can step in for each other in instances when fear overcomes one of us.

Something on our trip that so moved me about people stepping in for each other was the bicycle policy of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel. This is a bridge and tunnel construction that traverses 17 miles of the Chesapeake Bay but doesn’t allow bicycles to cross. Instead, the official policy is that bicyclists are to call ahead to say they’re coming, and a person in a van will meet them and load up the bikes and drive them across. The service is free. Our bike route took us to this point along the east coast where we were cared for by strangers in this way of being whisked  across the Chesapeake Bay almost like teleportation. But the even more amazing thing I learned was that there was also a special free service for anyone who felt afraid of driving across the long bridge. The driving service involved having someone from the bridge and tunnel agency step in and ride with the frightened person as the driver of their vehicle in their stead. Because maybe sometimes, instead of cheering on a person and having extra faith in them to do a thing that frightens them, the caring thing is to help them do the frightening thing, to let them have faith in you to help. Where your faith is hindered by fear, I will be confident for you, and you will offer me your faith in me to do what frightens you.

An even more touching instance of someone stepping in to help a frightened person was something I read online about a person on the autism spectrum posting on social media that they’d never been to a Subway restaurant before and were scared to go. They wished that someone could explain to them the process of ordering a Subway sandwich and what they would be asked to do by the server. So a caring person responded to their post in a matter-of-fact way of writing out a detailed, step by step instruction of what the server would ask and the different ways the scared person could respond, such as choosing 6 inches or 12 inches and what kind of bread and what kind of fillings and condiments and do you want a drink or not. And the scared person later reported back that they’d carefully followed the instructions and had successfully ordered a sandwich from Subway. They now believed that they could visit a Subway in the future and would follow the instructions and be ok. They were grateful for the kind help and also empowered by it, by their faith in it, and by their new faith in themselves to do it. And this is a story that was a welcome boost to my faith in humanity all around, and also gave me ideas about ways I could ask for such instructive help and could have faith in another’s willingness to step in for me and help me. And ways I could be called upon to give help to someone else, to let someone else have faith in me to help. I would want to be as plainly helpful as this example without any motive of changing the nervous person into a more daring one but simply filling in what they needed for their nervous self to move forward. A mingling and enlarging of our individual measures of faith. A balancing of faith.

I’m not sure if this what the gospel verse is talking about, but I feel led here by the verse. Whatever is happening in the verse from Matthew, it does involve differing measures and kinds of faith interacting with each other. Also, I think I’ve been influenced by the Barbie movie to not need everyone to be exceptionally confident. Is faith the same as confidence? I think so, or it’s something very much like it. But we went to see the Barbie movie on our bike trip at an especially magical place called Emerald Isle after having ridden through a desolate marshy area that felt so far away from safety to me, and with little towns scattered in between the marshes with occasional Confederate flags waving from the porches and no gay flags at all. I felt heavy with existential anxieties like Barbie was feeling. And then I felt lightened and healed to a great degree by sharing my feelings with Barbie. I’m not kidding. I remember after the movie was over and we were standing up from our seats and I said to Frances that I truly felt helped by the movie. And just then I caught the eye of a man sitting behind us with a group of older people and knew that he’d heard what I said. And I think I saw him smiling inside himself about me being helped as if he’d been helped by Barbie, too.    

But l want to think more about what it means to have abundant confidence, or faith. Is faith a belief in someone’s power to do particular things? If I have faith in you to do something, it means that I confidently believe that you can certainly do it. And we can also have faith in our own power to do things. Faith in ourselves. Yes I can, yes I can, yes I can. To have faith in God means to believe in God. Great faith is a combination of confidence and belief. But do you believe in faith in a literal way? I mean do you believe that a person can literally move mountains with faith the size of a mustard seed? That they can walk on the water or fly through the air if they just can believe in themselves enough? Is faith a potential for exhibiting an exceptional ability like a supernatural power? I know that throughout my life I’ve read or been told or otherwise led to believe that human beings are only using a fraction of their brain power, that somehow studies show that we have unused parts or under-used parts of our brains, that we can’t even imagine what we might achieve with a wholly confident application of our total brain potential. Maybe it’s an evolutionary thing that will happen to us if we get to evolve more on the earth, if we haven’t already gone too far with abusing the natural world because of how greedy we are. Do you think we’ve already gone too far? But that’s a different topic. But maybe our development of greater faith will be what allows us to change course and heal the earth.

Someone I follow on Instagram, a drag queen performer, is often highlighting instances of bigotry and ignorance on their page and calling for the hateful, stubborn people to evolve already! Maybe when we can evolve enough to love each other we will also be able to walk on the water like Jesus.

Do you ever think of Jesus as being a kind of prototype of an evolved human being? That all of Jesus’s compassion and healing power and other miracle-working and insight and connection to loving creation, to God, are ways that all of us are meant to be? That Jesus is the example to follow but also the model of who we’re designed to ultimately be.

Sometimes I think of Jesus as being an Alien Being sent by God the Creator to steer us from our selfish ways and set us on this evolutionary path. I don’t believe it’s disrespectful of Jesus or God or humanity to imagine Jesus as an Alien Being akin to us but far more fully evolved. Is it? I’m trying to exercise confidence in my own thought processes but am prone to doubt them, too. I wonder how everyone else envisions God. Do you see God as a solid being or more as a misty kind of force or invisible force that permeates everything? Do you have a certain image of God or is God an overall sense of something that doesn’t have a form? Something too vast and mind-boggling for our thoughts to contain, like infinity. Does the awesomeness of something like infinite space inspire you to confidently believe in God?

Do you believe that we’ve encountered aliens on the earth and that the government is hiding it from us? Why aren’t we talking more about this? Would knowing about it change anything? Has the world gotten so weird now that aliens aren’t even that interesting to us? I feel worried about how we might have been treating them, if we actually have had close encounters. That we aren’t being open enough to be awed and excited and welcoming. That we’ve been treating them like undesirable others, like Greg Abbott is treating immigrant people. Evolve already, Greg Abbott!

Something I came across recently was a report about time and how new research has determined that time has fits and starts and isn’t a smooth thing. I can’t find the source of this now and am not sure if I’m mis-remembering it or getting it wrong altogether, but something I do remember is someone commenting that they didn’t understand the physics of this new research at all, but did feel inspired by it to just be awed by the miraculous mechanics of creation. When I was in Myrtle Beach the first day, I walked on the beach access walkway to the end where I could look out onto the ocean. A group  of women were gathered there who seemed to me to be lesbians, which was a plus, and one of them was looking out on the ocean, too, and turned to me and said God’s creation. And we shared a moment of awe at this, a moment of faith. Maybe being faithful is also being amazed. It’s when something almost like fear, like a gasp, turns into amazement. Maybe fear, instead of always being an antithesis to faith, is something that can also inspire faith. In the reading from Matthew, the disciples in the boat are first terrified and then amazed by what transpires—by Jesus walking on the water, by Peter’s moment of walking on the water, by Jesus’s reaching out to save Peter, by the wind subsiding when Jesus enters the boat. This amazement is what forms the basis of their belief in Jesus as the Child of God. It isn’t confidence that forms their faith. It’s awe, or more specifically, fear transformed into awe. Maybe something we can do, as well as working on our confidence and sharing our measures of faith with each other and evolving together, is just let our fears turn into awe and be amazed more. That’s my prayer for everyone right now. That we feel awe-struck more than afraid.

Amen

[stahlop]

Why Neal Cassidy is a bad person

My dissertation on the horrible person Neal Cassidy is and why he was never meant to be a romantic interest for Emma Swan.

There was a recent TV Line list that talked about Love Triangles that didn’t really work. The Neal/Emma/Hook triangle was one of those on that list. It was obvious from the short blurb that was written that the writer was a Neal fan. I’ve also heard and seen SwanFire (Emma and Neal shippers) fans plead passionately about how they were meant to be, and honestly, I’ve always scratched my head about this, because I’ve always seen Neal as a horrible person. Even before it was obvious to me that they were going the Captain Swan (Hook and Emma) route, I’ve never understood how anyone could be on Team Neal. So I’ve decided to look at it logically. 

Look, I understand that Neal is the father of Henry, Emma’s son. I understand that a lot of people feel they should be together because then they would be a family. But just because you have a child with someone does not mean that person is the one for you. So let’s look at the facts surrounding Henry’s birth. Henry was 10 when he found Emma on her 28th birthday, which means she was 17 when she had him (despite Emma saying she was 18 in The Price of Gold). She went to juvie, not jail, which we know from Desperate Souls, because she tells Regina that the records needed for the article printed about her in the paper about having Henry in jail were obtained illegally, because her records were sealed, something that could only happen if she were underage. We know that Emma ran away from Ingrid’s foster home at 16 and made her way to Portland where she stole the bug with Neal inside. At this point, Emma is either still 16 or just about to turn 17, depending on how long it took her to get to Oregon from Minnesota. Either way, she is still underage, and Neal, if we want to go off the age he is now since leaving Neverland, is around 22-23 (his wanted poster in Tallahassee has his birthday as 3/23/77), which is still skeezy in my book. I’m not even going to get into his years in Neverland, because he was the same age for that whole time. Now, Henry’s birthday is 8/15. Regina put this in as a code in the hospital in A Tale of Two Sisters, and in The Dark Swan Henry tells Killian that Regina uses his birthday for all her codes. Whether the writers intended this to be true when they used the code originally I have no idea, but this has been what most of the fandom considers Henry’s birthday. With that date in mind, Emma would have conceived Henry in November of 2000. Since we know Emma’s birthday is October 22nd or 23rd, that means she was only a few weeks past her birthday in conceiving Henry. Barely past the age of 16. In Oregon, the age of consent is (and was in 2000) 18, so Neal was breaking the law by having sex with Emma regardless of her consent.

Moving on to what I consider the biggest reason that Emma could never love Neal (again), is HE FUCKING PINNED HIS CRIME ON HER AND LET HER GO TO JAIL!!!!! I cannot express enough how if Neal truly loved Emma he would have figured out some other way to let her go to get to her destiny once August informed him of who Emma was. He simply could have left. He could have broken up with her. He could have faked his own death. But setting her up to go to prison? That’s just cold-blooded. That’s not something you do to someone you love. And for what? Because he was afraid that Emma would eventually lead him to his father? It’s real simple, Neal, once the curse is broken, you just don’t go to Storybrooke. Simple as that. Or you man up and confront your father. Either way, you don’t set up the girl you purport to love at the risk of seeing your father again! And then, when the curse does break and August sends him a pigeon letting him know, Neal still doesn’t do anything about going to find Emma. This just shows that he didn’t care for her at all. I don’t care how scared of your father you are; if you claim to love someone the way Neal claims to love Emma, you go after them.

Which leads me to the episode Manhattan, in which Neal and Emma reunite and Neal is a complete asshole to Emma. He treats her like she’s still 16, which is just gross. He acts like he knows better than her and tries to convince her he did everything for her own good, while also telling her if he’d known she was from the Enchanted Forest, he never would have gone near her. Then, when he finds out about Henry, he acts as though Emma purposefully kept this from him. She didn’t find out until after he sent her to jail. Get off your moral high horse, Neal. Emma doesn’t owe you a fucking thing. Not to mention that Emma went looking for him after she got out of jail (Regina told us she spent two years in Tallahassee in The Price of Gold). If she could have found him I’m sure she would have told him about having his baby in jail, but Neal wanted nothing to do with Emma, so she couldn’t. The fact that Neal gets upset and hurt over the fact that Emma didn’t tell him about Henry at the bar when he told her he couldn’t and wouldn’t have risked being with her if it meant seeing his father again completely blows my mind. He has absolutely no right to be angry at Emma about Henry. None. Not after what he did to her.

Moving on to Storybrooke, when Tamara comes to town, Emma is suspicious of her (and with good reason), but Neal just thinks she’s jealous. WHAT? Even after repeatedly telling Neal she’s not jealous, he continues to believe it (because he’s apparently a real catch). When Emma reminds him about her superpower is knowing when people lie, Neal says he never believed in that. So not only does he accuse her of being jealous, then he tells her the superpower that we know is real (albeit a little wonky) doesn’t exist and that he never believed in it. Way to be supportive. I can see why he’s such a catch. Now, I do have to give him credit for actually apologizing to Emma for framing her, but I still see it as too little too late. He messed up Emma’s whole view on love and men in general because he was a scared little boy. Emma, of course, turns out to be right about Tamara, which Neal doesn’t figure out about until she clobbers Emma and shoots Neal into a portal. Right before he falls he tells Emma he loves her. Okay, let's back up five minutes ago before we found out Tamara was a traitorous bitch to when Neal was in love with her. FIVE MINUTES AGO! And now he’s telling Emma he loves her like he was never involved with Tamara? Not to mention, he doesn’t even know Emma. He knew her 11 years ago. Emma is not the same, naive little girl she was back then. And yes, Emma tells Neal she loves him too, but again, neither of them are the same people they were back then. So yes, they may both have intense feelings, but if they got to know who they were now, I doubt they’d be in love. And I also believe Emma only said she loved him because he was about to die.

When Neal is in the Enchanted Forest trying to get to Emma and Henry in Neverland, he thinks of no one but himself when it comes to getting there. He uses poor Roland as bait not even caring about the consequences. He also makes himself seem much more involved in Emma and Henry’s life when talking to Mulan. He doesn’t even explain any of the backstory to her, just tells Mulan he messed up and he’s trying to fix it. He can’t even admit out loud the most crucial parts of his and Emma’s story because he knows he is wrong.

Which brings us to Neverland. Neal acts like a possessive jerk the entire time. Emma straight up tells him she wished he was dead, and he apparently takes that as an invitation to ‘never stop fighting for her’. Let’s get one thing straight, for all men, when a woman tells you she wishes you were dead because of all the pain you previously put her through, that does not mean she wants you to fight for her. It means she doesn’t want you in her life. And also, what? When did Neal ever fight for Emma? He’s always run away from Emma! He’d never have even thought to fight for her if she hadn’t come across him in New York and discovered Henry was his son. He was engaged to Tamara only 3-4 days prior once Emma and the crew rescued him from the Echo Caves. So all this ‘never stop fighting for you’ crap that he’s spewing is just pure bullshit, because the one thing Neal is good at is running, not fighting. 

Once he finds out that Emma and Hook kissed, well, then Emma doesn’t even seem to be a person anymore, just an object that Neal wants to possess. When Hook tells Neal about his and Emma’s kiss, he just tells Hook, Emma has him now. No, ‘well she might choose me’ or ‘it’s her decision’; Neal’s already decided that Emma is his. And yes, both he and Hook act like children in Dark Hollow when they fight over the lighter, but no one said men are rational when it comes to women. Also, it seems that Neal wants to one up Hook more than he wants Emma once he figures out Hook is his rival.

Once they get back to Storybrooke, it is clear that Emma is uncomfortable when Neal asks her to lunch. The fact that Neal has to beg her to give him a chance, then tells Emma that if she doesn’t show up he’ll leave her alone speaks volumes. It’s obvious to Neal that Emma doesn’t want to give him a chance, yet he insists on it. 

Then everyone is cursed back to the Enchanted Forest. And Neal, for all the running away that he’s done, decides that the only way he can get back to Emma and Henry is to resurrect his father, The Dark One. I get that he’s not thinking rationally, but the only way Rumplestiltskin was able to get to the Land Without Magic was getting Regina to enact the Dark Curse. What exactly did he think resurrecting Rumplestiltskin was going to get him? Then when he and Belle find out that the whole resurrection spell was not only a ploy by the Wicked Witch, but would also kill Neal in the process, he decides to go through with it anyway? What is the point of resurrecting his father to get back to Emma and Henry, if he would be dead? All he did was deliver his father into Zelena’s hands and kill himself in the process. As much as the writer’s tried to make it look like Zelena manipulated Neal into doing the spell, Belle tried to warn Neal off and he did it anyway.

I get that he believed he and Emma to be True Love at that point because he was somehow able to bring over the swan keychain necklace. But honestly, I think the curse may have worked a little differently for him (and Hook) since they weren’t part of the original curse. Or maybe it was just sent to be a reminder of all the bad things he did to Emma so he wouldn’t try to go after her. Whatever it was, it did not confirm they were True Love in any way.

And finally we come to his death. I honestly do not understand the hero arc. Neal condemned himself to death to resurrect his father. Rumplestiltskin absorbed Neal so that he wouldn’t lose him (despite the fact that they were barely speaking before Rumplestiltskin’s death), and then Neal asked Emma to free him from his father so he could tell her Zelena was behind everything. How exactly does that make him a hero? He made a stupid choice to resurrect his father, that put him right into Zelena’s hands, and none of that helped him get back to Emma or Henry. The only heroic thing he did was sending the bird to Hook to have him get Emma back her memories, and no one knows that was him.

So let’s review: 

Neal took advantage of an underage girl.

Neal sent the girl he loved to juvie by framing her for his crime.

Emma had to have her baby in juvie and give him up for adoption because of Neal.

After Emma broke the curse, Neal still wanted nothing to do with her.

Neal still wanted nothing to do with Emma when he found out she was in NYC to bring him to his father.

Neal gets mad at Emma for never mentioning Henry, despite the fact that he wanted nothing to do with her.

Neal starts treating Emma like she’s still a lovesick teenager when his fiance (whom he also never mentioned) comes into the picture.

Neal immediately tells Emma he loves her five minutes after his fiance tries to kill Emma and shoots him.

Neal uses a 4-year-old to summon the Shadow so he can get to Neverland to be with Emma and Henry.

Neal acts like Emma is a possession and not able to make up her own mind when he realizes he has a rival for affection.

Neal decides resurrecting his father, after making a true sacrifice, is the only way to see Emma and Henry again, despite his father never being able to get to the Land Without Magic before.

Neal basically commits suicide and plays right into Zelena’s plan in order to resurrect his father.

Neal dies because he wouldn’t listen to Belle and resurrects Rumplestiltskin.

I know people have a lot of opinions regarding Neal. Again, I never saw him as a potential love interest for Emma. I got creeper vibes from him from the start. I never saw him as a hero or a potential hero. Was I happy that he died, no. I saw that as a cop out from the writers so they could immediately put Emma and Hook together and not let Emma make up her own mind (which I was confident would be Hook even if Neal was still alive). I would have rather seen Emma and Neal become friends and co-parent Henry together than have a completely useless and avoidable death. Instead, the writers felt the need to glorify his stupidity and then name Snow and Charming’s baby after him (don’t even get me started on how wrong and idiotic that was). But I will always see Neal as a bad guy because he could never think of anyone but himself.

Please do not post anti-Captain Swan comments on this. If you want to defend Neal, please feel free. I’m really curious as to what Neal fans see in him. But I did not mention Hook because this is not about the love triangle, it is about why Neal specifically was not good for Emma.

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Fifteen. “eyes eyes eyes.”

word count: 5.9k (not including pictures) warnings: swearing

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist 

A/N: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! you know? anyway uh....... hope you like this... a lot is kinda going on in this part... but more details will come in the next chapter don’t worry i’m not scamming you 

_____

"I can't believe you," Dream scoffed from the other side of the phone, which was displaying only his eyes and up as Y/n's phone laid face up towards her ceiling. She didn't mind; he had pretty eyes and his blond hair poked out wildly beneath his hoodie and it was enough to make her only half focus on their conversation about her newest Minecraft build.

Y/n smiled as she glanced back at her phone to see him squinting at his screen in confusion even though there was no face on the other side, then looked back at her monitor. Neither of them were streaming but were bored so they decided to wander around on the SMP, continuing their all-day FaceTime call instead of transferring to Discord. They were on their fifth hour of FaceTiming at this point. Y/n had suggested multiple times switching to voice call instead since she wasn't showing her face, hoping he would say no so she could see him still, and each time he denied it because he claimed it felt more real when he could see her ceiling. Whatever that meant.

"I don't know what to tell you, bud. I'm just playing the game."

"But..." he pouted, she could tell by his voice... and by the eyes that were still glued to the call. "How are you so good?"

"Magic."

"I knew it."

She giggled and looked back to Minecraft, where she was looking at the massive hideout Sam had helped her build, complete with secret doors and tunnels and a whole lot of redstone. "Sam did most of it."

"Bullshit. Look at that," he said as he looked away from the phone and his green avatar punched the side of the build. "That has 'Bug' written all over it. You did that."

"Okay, I did do that part, but the cool parts like the secret doors and stuff are all Sam."

"Stop downplaying your skills. It looks good, Bug." His voice was clear and genuine and sent chills down her spine. For someone who want physically affectionate, she really wanted to give him a big hug. And... well... other things.

"Thanks, Dream," she whispered.

"You're welcome," he whispered back childishly.

"What in the..." Y/n said as she turned and saw a familiar Minecraft character with a white and red shirt in the distance. She pressed the zoom hotkey and stared at him as he filled her screen. "What is he doing?"

"Oh, speaking of Tommy," Dream started, clearing his throat as his avatar ran back and forth between the door of her hideout and a tree about ten blocks from it. "Um, I had an idea about, uh, the lake thing? The New Years' trip?"

"What's up?" she asked, turning to face him as she listened.

"Well, it's only about three weeks away and I was thinking—"

Dream was cut off as Tommy ran over to hit him with an axe a couple of times before running away.

"What the hell?" Dream grumbled as they watched Tommy sprint and jump in the direction he came from. The young boy paused when he realized neither of them were following, just looking in his direction.

<TommyInnit> did I scare you guys <TommyInnit> I did, didn't I <TommyInnit> I am very good at scaring people

Y/n laughed and typed her reply

<BugsyGames> not one single bone in my body was scared, tommyinnit <BugsyGames> try harder next time ig :/ <TommyInnit> JOIN VC RIGHT NOW <TommyInnit> VC <TommyInnit> VC <TommyInnit> VC <TommyInnit> VC <TommyInnit> VC

"Oh my gosh, he's so annoying," Dream mumbled with a small laugh but made no effort to do as the younger told.

<BugsyGames> idk if i really wanna HEAR you curse me out bc you already have over text multiple times <TommyInnit> VC <TommyInnit> VC

"Are you gonna join?" she asked, opening Discord on her other monitor.

"Hell no," Dream scoffed before his voice turned worrisome. "Are you?"

"Yeah, he's entertaining," she said. "And he won't leave us alone until one of us pays attention to him."

"Oh, you wanna be left alone with me, Bug?" he teased and she couldn't help but smile widely in embarrassment.

"Whatever you want to think I said, Dream." Y/n laughed, making Dream pout.

"Buuugg... just say you love me already," he whined jokingly.

Since she couldn't ignore the overwhelming butterflies in her stomach, she ignored him and opened Discord and looked at the voice channel Tommy was in. "Oh, Tubbo and Ranboo are there too, so it's worth getting cursed out," she told Dream before sliding on her headphones and joining. She moved one side off of her ear so she could still hear Dream over FaceTime if he spoke to her, seeing as he wasn't going to join the Discord call.

"Hi—"

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?" Tommy started yelling quickly. "I'M NOT AFRAID TO FIGHT A GIRL, I HAVE FOUGHT MANY WOMEN AND HAVE WON EVERY TIME."

"Uh... geesh Tommy, no hello?" Y/n asked. "Why do you get in so many fights with women?"

"They question my manliness."

"Hm. Maybe work on making it less questionable?"

"EXCUSE ME?!"

"What is... happening?" Ranboo asked.

"I don't really know. Tommy came over and punched Dream and then made me join vc so he could yell at me, I guess."

"Oh, that's where he went!" Tubbo said. "I had no idea, he just disappeared."

"I HAD TO GO HIT DREAM BECAUSE HE'S TALKING TO A FEMALE AND I WANTED HIM TO LOOK BAD IN FRONT OF HER."

"What is he saying to you?" Dream asked from the phone on the desk. "He's yelling at you?"

"No, it's just Tommy being Tommy."

"W-What?" Tommy asked.

"I was talking to Dream," she explained.

"I can get on and tell him to stop if you need me to," Dream offered before his keyboard started clicking. "Should I? Do you want me to?"

"No, Dream, it's okay. I'll just fight him."

"YOU'RE WITH HIM??" Tommy accused.

"No! We're on FaceTime."

"YOU'RE FACETIMING HIM?"

"Yup," she stated before quickly changing the subject since Tommy and Ranboo were both streaming. "What are my sons up to?"

"We're just trident-ing around talking about whether or not my or Tommy's accent is worse," Tubbo said. "He says 'grass' weird."

"Tommy's," Y/n voted, wanting to piss off the youngest more. "You have the voice of an angel, Tub."

"Are we just going to ignore the fact that Bugsy and Dream are FaceTiming right now?" Tommy asked in a calmer, more mumbled but still frantic voice. "Cause, I mean, I just think it's a bit strange is all but if we're just going to breeze past it, I mean... you know? The two faceless Minecrafters are staring into each other's eyes while we all talk on Discord like nothing is happening."

"We aren't 'staring into each other's eyes'," Y/n corrected.

She paused when Dream giggled and said, "I bet you're staring into mine, Bug." She glanced down to see his full face beaming up at her with a playful smile. He had propped his phone up on his monitor so she could see where his elbows met his desk all the way to the top of his fluffy hair. Her cheeks and neck burned hot as she looked at the boy cuddled up in his hoodie once again. He folded his arms on his desk and placed his chin on his forearms, looking impossibly cuter as he stared at the camera. "There's no way for me to know you aren't."

"Shut up, Dream," she mumbled before speaking to the others again. "We're not even showing our faces," she lied. "Dream sorta is but not really."

"No need to lie to everyone," Dream said, still smiling, sitting up from his position. "This is my entire face. What, you don't want people to know you get to see me whenever you want? You have VIP access, baby, the people should know."

An abrupt laugh escaped her lips at the nickname. "Can you guys hear Dream?" Y/n asked the boys in the voice channel nervously.

"No, why? Is he telling you dirty things?" Tommy laughed evilly.

"Nope. Just wondering." Her face was on fire. She hit Dream's character in-game and watched him focus back on his computer with a goofy smile. He returned the favor by hitting her character back once even though she was continually dealing damage until he had half a and begged her to stop.

"He's probably flirting with her like he does when we're on call but, like, worse because no one else can hear him," Tubbo proposed before all three of the young boys gagged and yelled over each other.

"GROSS!!" Tommy shouted.

"Ew!! Mom, is there a dude flirting with you? That's disgusting," Ranboo gagged.

"I cannot stand you guys," Y/n laughed, making her voice as confident as possible so they couldn't detect her lies. "That's not what's happening."

"Do my words mean nothing, Bug?"

"Dude," she mumbled to Dream again. "I wish you could see how hard I'm glaring at you right now." He laughed in response.

A knock on Y/n's door snapped her out of her conversation and she quickly muted on Discord. "Come in!"

Naomi poked her head in and quickly put her hand up. "Oh, sorry!" she whisper-shouted. "I didn't know you were streaming."

Y/n shook her head and smiled. "I'm not. What's up?"

"TUBBO! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" Tommy screamed, making Y/n deafen also.

Naomi stood taller and dropped her hand to her side. "I'm just bored and want to do something."

"I do too, actually," Y/n admitted.

"You're bored?" Dream scoffed. "Bug, I'm offended!"

Y/n smiled widely and turned back to her phone to see the blond boy frowning. "I've talked to you all day. Can I not go hang out with my roommate?"

"No! Tell her to fuck off."

"Dream! She's literally right here, she can hear you!" Y/n covered her phone screen with her hand to hide Dream's face as Naomi walked closer, laughing.

"Naomi?" Dream asked.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck off."

Naomi laughed as Y/n gasped. "DREAM!" Y/n grabbed her phone and held it up to show one eye in the corner of the screen so he could see her glaring, but he wasn't looking.

"I'm just kidddinnnggg... obviouslyyy..." he dragged out. "Unless you do steal Bug away from me, in which case I'm not kidding."

Naomi was silent with her hand over her mouth, not wanting to freak out and make Y/n back out before Dream could see her eye. It was a small thing, but a huge deal.

The silence caused Dream to look down and his jaw dropped. "B-Bug!!"

"You see this?? I'm glaring at you. How dare you talk to Naomi that way," Y/n reprimanded teasingly, trying to hide the shakiness in her voice.

"WHAT? Is this how you felt when I showed my face just to prove a point?"

"Probably."

"You're doing the exact thing I did! You're just proving a point!"

"Yeah, but I'm not showing my whole face like you did, idiot. Just enough so you can see the glare."

"Oh my gosh. Okay, yeah, I see you glaring, stop glaring!" he giggled and Y/n's camera went back to only showing her ceiling as she smiled. "I'm sorry, Naomi!"

"You can't just joke like that to someone you hardly know," Y/n scolded as Naomi continued laughing. She knew Naomi had that kind of sense of humor, but Dream didn't.

"Who said I'm joking?" he asked.

"Oh, shut up. I can't stand you."

"I'm kidding! I'm sorry, Naomi. I was just kidding."

"I know," she reassured. "It's all good, don't worry. I know you love your Bug too much to hurt her friends."

Y/n saw Dream quickly pull his phone away from his face after he smiled shyly, and she liked to imagine that he was blushing at Naomi's accusation.

"Yeah, I guess she's nice to have around," he mumbled.

<Ranboo> bugsy? you still there?

"Wait, both of you quiet for a second," she told Dream and Naomi before unmuting and undeafening on Discord. "Yeah, sorry, what's up? I was defended and muted."

"You were so cryptically silent, it was a little scary."

"Sorry, my roommate is talking to me. I'm gonna head off, actually."

"Aw, but we hardly got to play with you!" Tubbo pouted.

"We'll play soon! I promise! But not you, Tommy. I don't like you."

"I DON'T LIKE YOU FIRST, YOU EVIL WOMAN."

"Bye, Tommy."

"Bye, Bugsy," he grumbled.

"Goodbye, mother," Ranboo said as Tubbo laughed out a, "Goodbye mom," making Y/n's heart shed a proud tear.

"Goodbye, my sons. Be good. Be safe."

"Bye!!"

She left the Discord and then left Minecraft. "Okay, sorry, continue," she promoted Naomi.

"I think it's so cute how you talk to Tubbo and Ranboo," Dream cut in. "It's adorable."

"It is," Naomi agreed. "Tommy, too. I know you pretend to hate him but we can tell you want him to be your son too."

"Never," she murmured, making both of them laugh. She slid off her headphones and grabbed her phone, careful to keep it pointed away from her face as she walked to her closet.

"Anyway, I just wanna do something. It's really nice out today, do you want to go to the park or ride bikes or something?"

"Yeah, sure." She ripped a hoodie off the hanger with one hand, making the hanger ricochet and clank against the closet ceiling.  

"Yeah, sounds fun," Dream agreed from between them.

Y/n laughed. "Sorry, bud, not you."

A deep frown etched onto Dream's face and Y/n laughed. "What are you going to do there that I can't join? You can just prop me up on a tree and sit next to the phone."

"If we ride bikes, I can't hold you. And if we go to the park we usually skate. Besides, we want to talk about how much we hate you anyway so we don't want you there."

"Bug!" he pouted. Dream paused before saying, "Can you give the phone to Naomi real quick?"

Y/n hesitated but handed the phone to her friend. She used her free hands to slip on the hoodie before tuning back into the conversation.

"You don't have to show me your face but I want you to look into my eyes and promise me something, Naomi," he said.

Naomi held the phone up to her face anyway and Y/n could see both of them looking at each other. "What's up?"

"Promise me you won't let Y/n fall and scrape her knee or something," he requested and Naomi laughed.

"I promise not to let your Bug get hurt." That was the second time Naomi referred to her as 'his Bug' and she was not opposed to the sound of it.

"Thank you very much."

"Great," Naomi said before her voice turned teasing. "Now that that's settled, Y/n, you're right he is cute!"

Naomi was a pot-stirrer. Always was, always would be. She knew what to say to make tension rise in the room whether it was between people who hated each other or people who secretly liked each other. Or whatever Dream and Y/n were.

While Y/n's face grew warm, Dream laughed.

"Hey, you're pretty cute too, Naomi. Should I tell George or does he already know?" Dream fired back, trying to embarrass her as much as she embarrassed Y/n.

Naomi's evil smile fell before a confident one took its place with a raise of her eyebrow. "Oh, he knows."

Y/n laughed abruptly and grabbed the phone back from her friend. "Okay, I'm hanging up now." Before I lose self-control and show you my whole face right here, right now, she thought to herself.

"Boooo," Dream whined. "Will you call me back later? Please?"

"Maybe," she teased. "Depends on if I'm clumsy enough to fall and break everything like you think I will."

"I don't think that. I just want you to be safe."

He needed to stop being so sweet. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'm a pro."

"I believe it. Still, though."

"I'll be safe. I promise."

"Also, Bug, um..." he paused shyly. "You have really pretty eyes. Just... thought I'd tell you."

Heat rose to her face again and the look on Naomi's face said she could tell.

"Thanks, Dream."

Naomi nodded her head towards her Y/n's door. "I'll be in my room," she whispered and Y/n nodded.

"Sorry," Y/n said to Dream with a short laugh. "I don't know why I did that."

"It's okay," he reassured. "I appreciate it. I know it was just a small part of your face but it still means a lot to me that you showed me because I know you haven't shown anyone."

"I want to," she blurted out. "I really, really do."

"Want to what?"

"Show people my face." She squeezed her eyes shut and walked to her bed, setting the phone face up towards the ceiling. "Specifically you."

He paused. "Then... why don't you? I'm not pressuring you, I just don't understand. If you want to, then what's stopping you?"

"It's not that simple, Dream," she responded softly. "I'm scared."

Dream was silent for a few moments. "That's kinda what I wanted to talk about earlier before Tommy came in."

"Really?" she perked up. What was he going to say? That she seemed too scared so he didn't what her to go on the trip?

"Yeah, uh, I know you're nervous about meeting everyone and Sapnap and I were talking and– well, okay, so I assume you, Karl, and Naomi are going to go to Georgia together?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, so, yeah, what if– only if you want, obviously, but, you guys could come down to Florida and hang out with us for a few days and then, like, the five of us could go up to Georgia together? That way you meet two people first instead of everyone at once. So, like, since you haven't shown anyone, it'll be like dipping your toe in the water and if you meet Sapnap and I and absolutely hate it you can go back home before meeting everyone else." He finally concluded his proposition and Y/n's heart was so warmed. He was so sweet it was killing her.

"I'll still pay for all the travel stuff for you guys to fly down here," he added with a shy mumble at her silence, "and it's only a four and a half hour drive from here so Sapnap and I were just going to drive up and we could just rent a bigger car to fit comfortably. But obviously you can say no. Just a thought we had."

"Dream," Y/n started softly, her voice coming out way more fondly than she intended but she did nothing to fix it.

"Yeah?"

"You're the sweetest damn person I've ever met in my entire life."

"I just want you to be comfortable," he said softly.

"I think..." she paused. "I think that would be fun. I'd like that. I'll see what Naomi and Karl think."

His voice perked up slightly. "Really? Awesome. You guys can come down whenever. We're going to leave on the 26th to get there that night but whenever you guys want to come, you can. You could even spend Christmas with us if you want to come a few days earlier. Might be hard to find tickets this late since it's the holidays but I can see what I can find."

"That would be cool! The three of us were just going to hang out together so we don't really have plans for Christmas. I'll ask them but I think they'll like that too."

"Cool," he breathed. "If you want to say no later, you can."

"I don't want to say no, Dream."

He paused and his next word had his smile laced clearly through them. "Okay."

"Thank you–thank you for thinking of me," Y/n fumbled out. "It means a lot to me."

"Eh, it might be a little selfish of me, too. I just want to spend as much time with you as I can."

She beamed and bit her lip to not laugh with pure joy. "I'm probably selfish too because I'm going to make Karl and Naomi agree even if they don't want to go."

"I have no problem if you need to use physical force," he joked.

Y/n laughed and shook her head. "I should go save Naomi from her boredom."

"Okaaayyy..." he sighed. "If you must. Thanks for talking with me today."

"I had fun! I'm surprised you didn't bore me to death," she teased and he scoffed.

"Well apparently I did since you're ditching me!"

"Nooo, you could never bore me."

"Hmm... sure."

"Dream," Y/n dragged out and he laughed. "You're so clingy."

"Ugh, I know," he joked. "It's almost like I like you or something."

Y/n froze before mentally scolding herself. He was obviously joking, but it still made her heart skip some beats.

"Almost," she mumbled. "Alright, I'm going to go. I'll call you later if you're free and want to hang out on call more or something."

"Yeah, I'd like that," he said. "Have fun with Naomi! And don't get hurt."

She laughed. "I won't get hurt. Bye, Dream."

"Bye bye, Bug."

Y/n finally hung up and threw her phone on her bed with a small external scream. Naomi came back into the room a few moments later with a smirk on her face and leaned against the doorframe. "Done with the call?"

"Naomi..." she said dreamily. "He's... too freaking cute."

Naomi laughed. "Come on, lover girl, you can tell me all about it while we go outside. Bikes or skating?"

"I haven't gone biking in a while, let's do that."

"Perfect, I found a new trail recently I've wanted to try out," Naomi said as she grabbed her keys off the front table. "Let's go."

"OH, and then," Y/n recounted her story with Dream in detail (per Naomi's request) and she swerved on her bike a little in excitement."Then he said, 'it's almost like I like you or something'! What does that mean??"

Naomi laughed brightly and looked over her shoulder at Y/n. "Maybe it means that he likes you."

Y/n scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. Don't get my hopes up."

"I mean it, Y/n. I know you think it's not possible, but just think about it. Do you really think you didn't like him until you saw him?"

Y/n looked up into the treetops that provided shade on their trail. She dreaded that question. She had thought about it so many times, tossing and turning countless nights asking herself the same question over and over. When did she start liking Dream? She had always had interest in him but when did her starstruck admiration and wanting to be his friend turn into wanting to hold his hand and kiss him good morning? When did that change happen? Could it have happened before she knew what he looked like? It would go against so much that she believed, so much she had been told, but... maybe it was true?

"I don't know," Y/n admitted softly. "I really don't know."

Naomi's heart broke for her friend, knowing her internal battle was killing her slowly. "Hey," Naomi said in a lighter tone than she felt. "It'll all work out. I promise."

"What if it doesn't? What if he really doesn't like me and won't ever like me?"

Naomi shrugged. "Then... then he missed out and someone better will eventually come along."

Y/n nodded, wanting to talk about something a little happier. "So... I showed him my eye."

"You did," Naomi said cautiously. "I wasn't going to bring it up, but, damn dude. How do you feel?"

"Good. Great. I know it's small and insignificant but it doesn't feel that way."

"I don't think it's insignificant. It definitely shows you trust him a lot."

"He said I have pretty eyes," Y/n whispered excitedly, making Naomi laugh.

"You do! You really do."

"Speaking of thinking things are pretty, George knows?? What does that mean? Have you guys video called or what? I've been so stuck in my pity party that I have no idea what's going on with that!"

Naomi turned pink but her confident smile never faded. She slowed down and Y/n followed suit, both taking drinks from their water. "Can we sit for a minute?" Naomi asked as she nodded towards a large tree trunk. Y/n nodded and they sat down together, bikes haphazardly thrown to the side of the trail.

"So?"

"So," Naomi started. "George."

"George," Y/n prompted. "What's going on?"

"I like him a lot. And... he told me he likes me."

Y/n raised her eyebrows and beamed at her friend. "Really? Naomi, that's great! That's so awesome, I'm so happy for you!"

Naomi let out a small squeal before blushing. "I know. We're both a little worried because of long-distance but we decided to not think about it until after the trip. Then we'll work out how often we want to see each other and stuff."

"Wait, so, are you guys, like, dating?"

Naomi hummed. "No? But I have joked about how I'm going to kiss him as soon as I see him and it always makes him turn bright red and he just laughs and is like, 'you're an idiot', so that's a good sign."

Y/n laughed. "Yeah, sounds like George."

"Sorry I haven't told you sooner. I just feel like since you're so confused about everything with Dream that it would be like I'm bragging or something? And I didn't want to make you sad that I'm talking to this boy so much and—"

"Naomi," Y/n smiled and grabbed her arm. "It's okay. I'm not upset by it. I'm so so happy for you, really."

Naomi let out a breath of relief. "Thanks, Y/n. You're a really good friend."

"You make it easy to be a good friend to you," she said with a smile and a scrunched nose. "You're the best. I love you."

"I love you too," Naomi giggled and threw her arms around Y/n, forcing a hug even if she didn't want it. Y/n accepted it anyway, hugging her friend back tightly.

"Alright, break's over. Let's finish this thing. How much more do we have to go?"

Naomi checked the map on her phone. "About a mile. Think you can manage not falling off for another mile?"

"What?"

"I promised Dream I wouldn't let you get hurt."

Y/n rolled her eyes fondly. "He's so stupid."

"Maybe, but you like it."

"Who on Earth knows why? Oh! That reminds me," Y/n said as she got back on her bike and rode slowly next to Naomi. "I forgot to mention a huge detail."

"Ugh, you never stop talking about him," Naomi teased. "Just kidding, what happened? I want to know everything."

"This involves you and Karl. How do you feel about taking a detour to Florida before the trip?"

______

When Y/n got home, she showered while Naomi made them dinner. "Today was fun," she said as she sat down at the kitchen table. "We need to hang out more, just the two of us. Thank you so much," she added as Naomi handed her a plate off food.

Naomi nodded. "Agreed. But when do we ever have time when you aren't streaming and I'm not doing school or working?"

"Hmm, true. For a job with a flexible schedule, I don't feel very flexible. Maybe I should promise to join less streams."

"But then I can't join streams," Naomi joked with a laugh.

"Just ask George. I'm not your closest streamer friend anymore apparently," she fake pouted and Naomi blushed.

"He wants me to join one of his streams except neither of us want anyone to know so he thinks it'll be suspicious if it's just him and I."

'Wait, no one else knows you two have been talking?"

"Well, Dream does based on his joke earlier but you're the only person that either of us have told that we're, like, actually talking."

"Oh, I feel so special!"

Naomi laughed. "Good. You are."

Y/n smiled and looked down as her phone vibrated on the table.

"Boyfriend calling?" Naomi teased with one eyebrow quirked.

Y/n stuck her tongue out. "Wouldn't you like that?"

"I would like that. Date him."

"Oh, shut up," Y/n said with a laugh. "But actually, Dream invited me to get back on and hang out."

"So I was right?"

"No."

"Well, go ahead, I won't stop you."

"Thanks, Naomi. I had fun today, thanks for forcing me out of my room and for dinner."

"Anytime dude," she giggled. "Put that sponge down, I'll clean up."

"But you made dinner. Let me help."

"No! Go, your boyfriend is waiting for you. I got it."

Y/n ignored her and started cleaning dishes and putting them in the dishwasher.

"You're the worst. Love you."

"Love you!" Y/n called back as she walked to her room. She got on her desktop and opened Discord while she waited for Minecraft to load.

"Who just joined?" Tubbo asked in a tired voice. "Oh, Bugsy, hello again!"

"Hi!" she greeted back. "How's everyone doing?"

"Good, good, good. How was your, uh, thing? Bikes... or something?" Ranboo asked.

"Yeah, I went on a bike ride with my roommate. It was fun! The weather was super good today so it was good."

"Is it the roommate who's coming on the trip with us?" Tubbo asked.

"Yup," she replied. Ranboo fake whined and Y/n's heart hurt a little. "Ranboo I wish you could come."

"Me too. It would be fun but also very scary," he chuckled and Y/n nodded. "But I'm busy anyway."

"I'm terrified," she admitted. "So I fully understand."

"It's going to be good, Bug," Dream reassured softly, sending butterflies to her stomach. "I promise."

"Why are you terrified?" Tubbo asked.

"Um... just... you know... showing my face to everyone," she said with a small laugh. "Kinda weird." Though, admittedly, she was much less nervous than a few hours ago before she showed Dream her eye.

"Well, Dream has seen you, hasn't he?" Ranboo asked.

"No, what makes you think that?"

"He hasn't?" Tubbo spoke up. "I'm shocked! I could have sworn he had."

"What, why? Dream asked.

"You guys are just super close so I guess we assumed," Tubbo explained.

"No, we are close, Bug is just a tease," Dream joked and Y/n scoffed.

"Oh, whatever. You've seen more than anyone else."

"What?" Ranboo asked with a slight panic in his voice. "What, uh, what does that mean? Oh gosh."

"She showed me her eye today!" Dream announced like it was a huge deal. Which, it kinda was. "But she's a tease because that's all she showed."

"Why do you want to see her so bad, huh Dream?" Ranboo teased. "Hmm???"

"So I can call her pretty without her yelling at me that I can't know," Dream stated bluntly.

Y/n buried her face in her hands, the Minecraft welcome screen long forgotten, and laughed. "I cannot stand you, Dream."

"Awe!!" Tubbo cooed. "Bugsy, give the poor man a break, why don't you show him?"

When she normally would have taken that sort of comment to heart and would have beaten herself up about not showing him, she lifted her head to look at her screen. 'Give the poor man a break'.

"No, Tubbo, she doesn't owe me anything," Dream said with a nervous laugh. "Don't pressure her!!"

"I'm not! I'm not pressuring her to do anything!" Tubbo defended. "I was just joking! But it would be so easy to just send a picture of your face."

"But she doesn't want to and I respect that. Ranboo, are you still on the SMP? Where are you?"

Y/n tuned out the conversation, which had quickly changed topics, scrolling right to the picture she found the other day of her sitting on her bed. She didn't think twice. It just felt right.

Sent

"So, the next manhunt is going to have five hunters or what? Like what's changing?" Ranboo asked. "I think it's super cool that you're continuing the series."

"Yeah," Dream started to explain. "I'm trying to see who would be the best to have as the fifth person to make it—"

Y/n's heart pounded in her ears as she listened to the new silence, waiting for some verbal indication from Dream that everything was okay. That he saw the picture and that everything was still okay.

But he was dead silent.

"Dream?" Ranboo laughed. "Uhhhhh...."

"Uh.." Tubbo laughed too. "Did he break? Dream?"

Y/n bit down on her hoodie sleeve in anticipation and excitement, surprised that there were butterflies in her chest instead of raging thunderstorms of fear.

A loud sound banged through her headphones and her eyes darted to the Discord to see it came from Dream's mic. "Dream?" she asked softly. Did this man just knock something off of his desk?

His regard for them being on call with others completely evaporated. "Holy shit, Bug," he breathed out. "I-Is that you?"

"Sure is," she hummed.

"What the hell?!" he shouted, joy and surprise laced in his voice.

"Wait, what happened?" Tubbo asked before sounding excited. "Did you actually send him a picture of yourself?"

"Mhm," she hummed. "Maybe."

"AHHA! YOU BROKE HIM!" Tubbo laughed.

"Error: Dream.exe broke," Ranboo teased. "Man's files broke at the sight of Bugsy Games. Headlines tomorrow: Bugsy Games murders DreamWasTaken with a selfie."

"Oh, shut up," she breathed.

"Text me back right now," Dream demanded.

Y/n giggled as the other two teased Dream but she picked up her phone and found his one-word response.

Seconds later, Dream's voice was back in her ears. "Uh... I'm gonna get off. I have a lot to process."

Tubbo and Ranboo laughed loudly. "A lot to process?? HAHAHA! Just say you're in love with her and move on."

"WhaaAATT?" Dream yelled. "I-I'm not in love with her, what the hell is wrong with you, Tubbo?"

Y/n laughed, agreeing with him even though it kinda hurt. He didn't have to sound too shocked at the accusation.

"Have fun processing," Ranboo said. "Are you staying Bugsy?"

"Nah, I'm gonna get off too. I'm pretty tired."

"Are you going to be in Big Q's stream tomorrow though?"

She hummed. "I don't know. I didn't know he was streaming tomorrow."

"Oh, I thought he invited you?"

"Guess not. He just lost points."

Dream laughed. "Good."

"Well... we should stream together soon," Ranboo said. "I think that would be really cool."

"I do too! We definitely should. If you have any ideas or anything let me know, okay?"

"Yeah, I will!" he promised. "Talk to you later."

"Bye guys," she said before disconnecting. She noticed Dream linger in the call for a little bit even though he said he was leaving and she decided to get ready for bed, turning off her computer and walking to her closet. She was stopped by some texts though. Priorities.

PREVIOUS | NEXT

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[mrsbrekkers]

Hi! How are you?

Could I get a Kaz Brekker imagine where he opens up to the reader after a job about his past and the next day he tells her it was a mistake and a lapse of judgement, quite harshly. And then the reader gets hurt after a heist and he realises how much he actually needs her.

Thank you <3

i’m doing pretty good! first kaz fic tehe, i’ve been waiting to do kaz brekker one-shots since i read the books. he is v much a comfort character. i understand his aversion to physical touch ( i have panic attacks at times because of so ), his humor, and inner dialogue so he is v dear and near to my heart yeeee

i switched up the next day bit and did it as the same time since it made more sense to me?? i’m not sure how to explain it haha

pairings! kaz x reader / jesper x wylan + nina x matthias ( with inej third wheeling because she’d so do so. ) 

reader is female in this, but i can make it non-gender specific if one would like me too! just let me know i’m very flexible in my writing!

warnings! talking about jordie, ptsd, trauma, talk of death, loss of a brother + mother, swear words, kaz being sad, panic attacks, blood, near death experience, pekka a-hole rollins,

word count; 2610 ( proud again haha )

one-shot under cut!

COMPANIONABLE SILENCE

The Slat had become uncharacteristically quiet. A successful heist on part of the Crows made for easy celebration amongst the Dregs. Most sat gambling at the Crow Club, drinking the night away. Jesper had been having a weirdly lucky night, the money in front of him displaying such. Wylan had been on Jesper’s leg the entire night, and the occasional ‘This is my lucky charm’ could be heard from Jesper. Inej and Nina sat drinking together, Matthias looking like an unwilling bystander to the girls' fun. And yet, Y/N found herself back at the Slat after the long day. Her back screamed at her to call it a night, but instead, she found herself in front of Kaz’s door.

It was a routine the two had when they were the only ones at the Slat. Y/N would sit on the bed, head in a book, and Kaz would sit quietly at his desk planning whatever it was Kaz Brekker decided to plan. It seemed the same tonight, with Y/N quietly reading, until her head lifted to see Kaz rubbing his eyes.

“You need to get more sleep. The amount you manage is minimal. I’m surprised you’re not dead yet,” Y/N commented, her book falling into her lap, the page she’d left off on now folded at the corner. It surprised her how Kaz managed to live off of his, if lucky, two hours of sleep. She’d never understand it. Granted, she slept less than the suggested as well, but she always made up for it with at least a nap during the day.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.” 

That might be sooner than you think at this rate. But Y/N wouldn’t take that for an answer. She wasn’t usually a pushy person, especially with Kaz Brekker. She’d learned being pushy with him was never a good idea, considering the amount of people who did were left with a ruined reputation and nothing to live with.

“Sleeping when you’re dead isn’t an option in Ketterdam. Even when you’re dead here, you’re really not. Especially when people know of you. And last time I checked, the entire city knows you, and half of it wants your head on a silver platter. I’m actually sure people outside of the city know you, and may want the same,” Y/N said, standing and moving over to the wooden desk, sitting across from Kaz. Her eyes landed on the work Kaz worked on, seeing another heist plan he was drawing out.

Kaz wasn’t going to give in easily, anyone who knew him knew he was stubborn. One of the most stubborn people who lived in Ketterdam, but he knew what Y/N was saying held some truth in it. One was never truly dead in Ketterdam. He suspected people would dig up his body to hand over to Pekka Rollins - no, he wouldn’t die before Pekka Rollins did, that was a promise he’d made himself after Jordie. Brick by Brick. He couldn’t pull Rollins apart if he was dead. Maybe that’s why he wasn’t dead yet: his vigor to destroy the man who’d killed his brother. But he did suspect that when he, Kaz Brekker, was dead, he’d never truly be dead.

“Even so, I have things to do, plans to make-”

“At 1 in the morning? I’m sure such plans aren’t going to disappear overnight.” Being cut off, Kaz casted Y/N a glare, eyes narrowing. Why she had such influence over him, he’d never know. Or, maybe he did know and wasn’t going to express why. Because why would he? Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason after all. He always had reasons though.

Finally, Y/N sighed. “I don’t expect you to listen to me, but I’m not going to let you rot away from the lack of sleep you get, Kaz. I am just as stubborn as you, and if I must? I will sit here and bug you about your lack of sleep until sunrise. Or until I inevitably fall asleep.” The smallest glimpse of a smile reached Kaz’s lips, an instinct to roll his eyes almost playfully too. Stubborn about the well-being of her friends was a Y/N special. Kaz had simply thought he’d have time before she got on his ass about his own health.

She’d already gotten on Wylan about his self-destructive habits. His tendency to blame himself for not being good enough. Y/N had practically choked him out once when he’d gone on a rant about how he was a problem for the Crows. A burden. Kaz himself had been somewhat frightened. She’d found ways to help Jesper and his gambling addiction, which usually included them gambling, but in ways that didn’t involve money. She’d gotten on Matthias for his excuses to not kiss Nina.

If Kaz remembered correctly, she’d called it ‘redirecting the issue’.

“You’re avoiding something,” Y/N then spoke, crossing her arms. Weren’t they all avoiding something? Kaz thought, huffing as he sat back into his seat. This was Ketterdam after all. If you weren’t running from some rich merchant, then you were running from their son. Wylan had simply been a lucky break in that usual streak.

“You say that as if we all aren’t running from something,” Kaz finally said out loud, his eyes casted downwards.

“Avoiding, Kaz. Not running, and something tells me the thing you’re avoiding isn’t something, but someone.” Y/N knew the look Kaz had on. She’d worn it herself dozens of times.

“I had a brother.” Kaz couldn’t bring himself to look directly at Y/N. It would make talking about this all too real. Too much. Was this a lapse in his judgement? Why was he telling her this? Had she managed to get so under his skin? 

“We moved to Ketterdam after my father died. My brother . . . Jordie-'' the name came out with a small crack in his voice. He hadn’t said that name out loud since he’d laid on his sick brother’s chest. “Was hopeful about what the city would bring, and it brought peace for some time. We worked with a man for some time, and my brother was in on a deal. One that seemed too good to be true,” Kaz scowled now, his anger seeming to rise as he spoke.

Y/N sighed, knowing where this was going now. “When an offer is too good to be true-”

“It usually is. That man went by a different name then. One to scam people for their money to rise through the ranks of the Barrel.” Kaz finally lifted his eyes, seeing the realization rush over Y/N’s face.

“Pekka Rollins.”

“Pekka Rollins is the reason my brother is dead.”

The room fell silent for a few moments, Y/N contemplating what to say. She had a feeling she was among the few who knew Kaz’s story. She was tempted to ask how Joride died, but she could infer. She’d been around Ketterdam during the time firepox had plagued the city. Her mother had been taken from the disease. She’d been the same age as Kaz. It began clicking in her head too.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N murmured. “I know you probably don’t want my pity, but really, I’m sorry.” It made sense why Kaz felt like he needed to best Pekka Rollins. He wanted revenge. He wanted Rollins to be just as down as him and his brother had been.

Kaz sucked in a deep breath, standing and running a hand through his hair. His regret for telling the woman before him began to consume him. This was a mistake. Why had he told her? A harsh look fell over his face, looking down at the plans he had laid out. “I need to finish these plans, and I’m sure you need some sleep,” his tone was harsh, but it was clear there was hurt underlying it. He wasn’t going to be an outright asshole, but he needed his space now.

“You need sleep too, and I doubt you’re in the right headspace to try and make plans-”

“Y/N, leave.” He internally was begging. And Kaz Brekker never begged . . . but Kaz Rietveld would, and that’s who was begging. 

“Kaz-”

“Leave.” Anger washed over his features, his eyes directing Y/N to the door.

Y/N sighed, walking towards the door. Before she turned the knob, she stopped. “You know being open about your past doesn’t make you weak, right?” But Kaz said nothing, afraid his voice would fail him. With no words spoken for a beat, Y/N opened the door, shutting it as she paced down the steps.

Her book still lied on the bed, the folded paper to the chapter she was on prominent. Kaz took one look at it before sighing and sitting in the chair, one tear making its way down his face.

---

It was supposed to be in and out. Another job. Another however much Kruge. Where is she? Kaz thought. Y/N was never one for being late. Sure she was working with Jesper, who was notoriously late, but she should’ve been out before Jesper was, and she wasn’t.

It’d been a week of no speaking. Kaz couldn’t speak to her after revealing so much. He feared it would become all too real. A common fear he had. Stealing, picking locks, it was all real to him, yes, but he never experienced reality when he was on a job. It was his way of ‘avoiding’ as Y/N would put it. But now, he couldn’t avoid the reality of this job.

The reality was: He’d ignored Y/N for a week in fear, and now she wasn’t at the rondevu point.

She’s Y/N, she isn’t dead. But that may not be true. She could indeed be dead. She could be, She could be, She could be.... Dozens of potential outcomes came to mind.

The world seemed to spin as he paced. Nina and Matthias had already tried to calm him. Nina had even tried to calm his heart rate down. Wylan seemed to be just as worried as Kaz as well, Jesper still out there alongside Y/N and all. Inej was calm, but it was clear she was worried too. They all were, but Kaz was being unusually emotional. 

“At this rate, you’re going to have a heart attack Kaz,” Nina had said.

And if he did, then that’d be a first for the Bastard of The Barrel. 

“And you’re not close to having one?” Wylan asked, shooting a glare over at Nina.

Kaz mentally thanked Wylan. At least he wasn’t the only one close to breaking down. Get in and out. In and out. What had gone wrong?

But then he heard the sound of boots running across the muddy ground, his eyes shooting up to see Jesper carrying a bleeding Y/N.

She’s bleeding. Who had hurt her? Kaz wasn’t sure, but anger filled him. That was until he fully internalized that Y/N was bleeding.

“Jesper, what happened?”

Jesper helped Y/N into the safe house, his breathing heavy as he helped her onto the bed of one of the rooms. “Rollins. He got word of the job. We became overwhelmed and Y/N here took a bullet to the shoulder.” Then Wylan was practically engulfing Jesper in a hug.

How? Was Kaz’s initial thought, but with a huff, he closed his eyes. Moving over to follow Jesper, he took off his coat. Upon entering the room Y/N was sitting in, he nodded towards her good arm, silently asking for her to take off the sleeve of the arm that was hit.

“I thought we weren’t speaking?” Y/N asked, groaning as she pulled the sleeve of her bad shoulder off with some help from Inej who pushed everyone else out of the room. Inej left as well, but gave Kaz a nod to let her know when he would need help.

Kaz didn’t lift his eyes to look at Y/N, his eyes steady on the bullet lodged in her shoulder. He pulled out the medical kit under the bed. Always prepared, Y/N thought.

“How did Rollins find out?” Y/N asked, watching Kaz pick up tweezers from the small medical kit.

“I’m not sure, but I plan on figuring it out. Stay still.” And Y/N did, knowing this was hard enough as it was for Kaz, she didn’t want to make it any harder. Squeezing her eyes shut as she prepared for the pain. She gripped onto the bed, seething as Kaz took the bullet out with the tweezers.

“I hope you know, I didn’t mean any harm last week.” Kaz knew what Y/N was referring too, and he simply nodded for the moment. Picking up the bandages from the kit, Y/N shook her head.

“Get Inej to do it, you’ve already pushed yourself enough.”

“It’s fine,” Kaz spoke, his voice firm.

“Kaz, don’t-”

“I want too.” His eyes lifted to finally look up at Y/N. She looked down as well, silently nodding. She understood Kaz enough to know this was his apology for ignoring her the past week.

“My mother, she died from firepox,” Y/N spoke quietly. She didn’t know how Kaz would take her bringing it up, but she felt that if she didn’t, they’d build up all this anger again. They’d ignore one another again. Kaz stalled. Flashes of Jordie and Reapers Barge consumed him for a few moments. Y/N’s skin turned cold, icy and raw. He flinched away from the feeling.

Then he heard it - Y/N’s heartbeat. She was living. She wasn’t a corpse. The heartbeat and blood were testament to that. She isn’t dead. 

“I never told you how he died,” Kaz spoke quietly. He wasn’t used to talking about such subjects with anyone. It was the reason he’d taken on a different surname. That way he could cut ties with his past.

But for some reason, Y/N was able to make him feel . . . though begrudgingly, open with his past.

“I can infer, Kaz,” Y/N said with a small hiss as Kaz finished with the bandage, his hands shaky. “Now, you can continue ignoring me if you wish, I imagine you enjoy avoiding me.”

“I don’t enjoy it.” Kaz now had someone he connected with on a level he wasn’t used to. He wasn’t going to enjoy being apart from that.

“I know, I was simply making sure,” Y/N teased, her lips quirking in a small smile.

Kaz gave a small shake of his head, his lips pulling into a smile as well for just a moment. Then he picked up his coat he’d taken off. “I imagine you’re cold, here,” he spoke then, watching as Y/N took it and wrapped it around herself.

Then the door swung open, Nina rushing over to give Y/N a hug. “Kaz here almost had a heart attack. Wylan almost did. Jeez, never do that again,” she said, laughing a bit.

“Ouch, ouch, Nina,” Y/N spoke, referencing the still open wound on her shoulder.

“Sorry, sorry. We made food for you,” Nina said, smiling before handing Y/N a tray of food.

Kaz exited the room, allowing the others some time to talk to Y/N. Inej followed him, her arms crossed as she leaned against one of the walls.

“What information do you want me to get on Rollins?”

“Whatever you can find.” You’re not taking her from me Rollins, and you’d better be ready when I do come for you. Brick by Brick.

[nemo-of-house-hamartia]

Snippet Sunday!

(Borrowing the idea of Sunday Snippet from @tkwritesdumbassassins)

So.

It's been a while since I shared anything written. And because I am feeling all sorts of feeling for my FFXII bebes I decided to share just a tiny fragment of the story I wrote, so many years ago. As you will see, the writing is not perfect in any way, because I was very young when I wrote this, but I am still so proud of it. So forgive the mistakes.

You could ask, "Why not edit before showing it?"

the reason is that I want to offer you all a sneak peek of what I used to do when I was younger, much like when I share those photos of my old artworks. I don't know if I will ever share the whole story. I don't want to run the risk of what happened with Dorothea also befalling my Nabyrie. I don't mind talking about her, but I don't know if I want to share the whole story. I don't know, I will see how I feel.

So, for the moment, I will share this small snippet.

For context, this takes place VERY AHEAD in the story, in Book 2: "The Blue Yonder", where Nabyrie is already Empress of the Archadian Empire and she went through a lot already.

So, here you have it.

I hope you will like this (Please, do read under the cut).

Tale of two Empires - Book 2: The Blue Yonder

Nabyrie was sitting underneath a tree, just a few yards away from the place where the Strahl was anchored. She was still wearing the thin dress she had in Archades, and was grateful to Fran for giving her a much warmer shawl to drape on her shoulders. The air was chilling on the Island of the Lost, and goosebumps were all over her arms. Absorbed in her thoughts, she was contemplating the blue of the sky above, so similar to the view she had from her room when she was a younger girl. She couldn’t help herself and thought about how much it differed from the sky in Archades. There was truly something prepossessing in the sky over the Purvama Regions, a sight like there wasn’t anywhere else in Ivalice. 

When she was a child, she often found herself wondering if the intensity of the blue was somehow influenced by the magicite nestled inside the rock of the Floating Continents.

Suddenly, she heard steps approaching her, and turned her face toward whoever was coming. Balthier’s eyes met hers, and she couldn’t help but blush when looking at him. Now that the shock of seeing him again had worn off, she took the chance of examining his face more carefully: he was still the same handsome skypirate she knew, she noticed, but a few wrinkles formed around his eyes, giving him a perpetually tired expression. Those eyes, however, were warmer, kinder than she used to remember.

"So-" he started "..how shall I address you, now? I presume “Lady Bug” is not suitable enough at present, seeing how high you have risen, Your Imperial Highness. "

His voice was gentle, soft even. There was none of the pungency nor the anger she remembered and associated to him.

Feeling her cheeks burning, but trying to maintain an immovable face, she searched for a witty answer, but couldn’t find any. She rose from the fresh grass, standing as straight and dignified as she could.

"You know there is no need for such formalities, Balthier. Not between us, anyway."

"Once, maybe, when you were just a little bee buzzing in my ears," he answered, not unkindly. "But those days are long lost, I’m afraid."

There was an edge of melancholy in his words, she couldn’t help but notice.

"Is that why you called me Lady Bug?"

"Yes. You were always chatting in my ears, as excited as a little bee around a blossoming flower. You were kind of an annoying young Lady, back then."

Nabyrie bowed her head gracefully, in acknowledgment of his words, as if he meant them as a compliment, not letting them sink deeper than her skin. He was still unpleaseant with her, and that wounded her more than she liked.

"I think my Lord Husband can vouch for me now, and assure you that I am most silent nowadays." she replied, cold but gracious, moving away from her tree and putting more distance between the two of them. "Might I ask what your intentions are, perchance? As you remember, kidnapping royalty is a serious offence, and kidnapping the Empress of the Archadian Empire even more so. As Fran was kind enough to inform me, it has already been two days since you seized me, and I doubt my Lord Husband hasn’t noticed my absence."

Her tone was grave, her eyes void of emotions, with no hint of the playfulness she used to have when she was younger.

Balthier would not answer her immediately. His face was inscrutable, a pool of still water, and didn’t give hint of his feelings, but he was taken aback by how much she changed during the years. She had grown more graceful and poised, that was certain, comelier even, but there was an hollowness in her, where before there were laughters and joy.

"My intents are simple enough, Your Highness," he said, putting an harsh emphasis on her title."It is my will to take the most precious treasure of the Archadian Empire, the dearest possession the Emperor owns, and conceal it from the rest of the world; it is my will to never return it to Archades, and I truly couldn’t care less if the world would fall in an large-scale war because of my actions."

Nabyrie raised her eyebrows, surprised.

"If those were your purposes, to what end, pray, kidnapping me? Causing the Emperor’s ire would not make your task any easier nor more successful. The Judges will be on your trail soon enough, not counting my father’s army as well, and you will be most likely sentenced to death for daring such an affront toward the Empire. Even if I interceded with the Emperor himself, you would not go unpunished, and a life sentence to Nalbina Dungeons will soon befall on your head."

Balthier looked her square in the eyes, moving a few steps toward her, his arms resting along his body, his fingers flexing, as if he couldn’t stop them to move.

"All you said is certainly true. If I ever take a step outside this place with you, I would be certainly sentenced and lose my life, or worse, my freedom. But what if the Emperor’s treasure wasn’t his to begin with? What if I’m just taking back something that once was meant to be mine? Something that I never claimed, but was I know, deep within, was supposed to be with at my side the whole time?"

Even more confused, Nabyrie couldn’t quite comprehend what he meant. She searched in her mind among all the riches her husband had, but couldn’t find any that might have once belonged to Balthier.

"How could it be? What could Larsa possess that once belonged to you? " asked, while he stopped right in front of her.

He kept gazing in her eyes, still as a statue.

"You." He murmured, his voice serious yet full of resolve.

Her heart skipped one beat, her face whitened like curlded milk, the air went out of her chest as if someone had punched her right in the stomach. She couldn’t quite believe what she just heard.

"Me?" she asked, her voice chocking, shaking her head in disbelief. " No. This cannot be possible. How? Since when? You always disliked me. You always treated me as if I was only an annoyance to you, and kept me at arm’s distance. I’ve never received anything but contempt from you."

His fingers twiched, and she noticed that his hands were trembling. He rose them, hesitant on what to do; they found their way on her cheeks, a touch as gentle as a butterfly’s wing.

Again, he was staring at her, his lovely hazel eyes so focused as if he wanted to held her next to him by sheer willpower.

"You were a nuisance to me, Lady Bug, there is no questioning it. You were the annoying Lady Nabyrie Alyja Ondore, only daughter to Halim Ondore IV and heir to the Stewardship of Bhujerba, and not Mira, the sweet, honest and spontaneous girl I first met in Rabanastre."  

His hands, still trembling, traced the line of her nose, of her cheeks, touching every freckles that spotted her skin. Nabyrie felt her eyes swelling with tears, her mask of impassibility crumbling without her being able to recompose herself.

 "When Princess Ashe revealed to us your true identity - when it became clear that you were Vossler's - you were not someone I could just open my heart to and be with anymore." he kept murmuring, his heart beating faster than ever in his life.

"You had a place in a world where I didn’t belong and couldn’t fit even if I tried to. I saw how close you and I were growing to be, day after day; how your eyes would shine when trying to talk to me and how happy I was when you were next to me and returned one of my smiles. I had to stop it, to break it before what we felt for each other became too deep to turn back…but I’m afraid I wasn’t rapid enough."

Abruptly, Nabyrie turned her face to her side and detached from his touch, her eyes wide open from disbelief. Speechless, she felt a chasm opening in her heart, and couldn’t stop her knees from trembling. Balthier was taken aback by her reaction, and put his arms back along his body.

"I wish I have known about this a long time ago." She tightened her arms, embracing herself, feeling as if she could fall apart any moment." I..I cannot bear this truth. Not after spending all this time convincing myself that you loathed me so much that there was no possibility for my sentiment to be reciprocated."

Nabyrie glanced Balthier, unable to mask the torment on her face any longer.

"I...I need a moment. Do forgive me, Balthier. "

And without waiting for his leave, she turned away, walking toward the blue forest surrounding the clearing where the Strahl was anchored to the ground, looking for a secluded place, far away from the skypirate.

With his heart breaking at every beat, Balthier backed away inside his airship, now doubting his decisions, not knowing if, by opening his heart to her –The Empress of Archades, not the carefree girl he loved- he made the biggest mistake of his life.

--Nemo

[sarah-bae-maas]

Gwyn wants to explore, and Azriel needs a friend - a Gwynriel fic - Part 1

In honour of this blog turning five years old, I thought I would treat you all to a two part/chapter Gwynriel fic that has been wandering around in my brain throughout countless days of lockdown and tortuous university classes. 

I’m already well underway with part 2 of this fic, but I do have some assignments coming up, so expect it within the fortnight! 

So please do enjoy this nearly 15k words worth of Gwynriel goodness <3

Masterlist Ao3

_____________

She was staring at him.

Again.

Azriel had always paid special attention to Gwyn – not that he would tell her that, of course. It was a secret held deep in his shadows that she was his favourite Valkyrie, the one he thought the most brave and resilient. It would not be an unpopular opinion if he did share it, the other women looked at her with great admiration, and Nesta often sung her praises when the female wasn’t there to refute her words. But Azriel knew the presumptions people might make if they knew he thought it, and the last thing he wanted was for a misunderstanding to make Gwyn uncomfortable.

Gwyn was holding a bag for Emerie to kick, her stance strong enough that she didn’t flinch at all with each pummel. Her focus should have been on Emerie’s form, but rather her teal eyes were glued to him. Every time Azriel looked over at her, she quickly shifted her gaze to her friend, but his shadows constantly reminded him that Gwyn was once again paying her attention to him.

Cassian called the end of the session. Azriel was grateful, he was finding it harder and harder to train the women effectively when he knew Gwyn was right there.

He practically fled the scene, his cheeks brushed with red, barely nodding to the women who said their thanks to him as he passed. It’s not that he didn’t like her attention, but it made his stomach feel heavy, his hands shake, and he didn’t like how out of control he felt whenever she looked at him like that.

He settled in the dining room. Standing, he braced his hands on the table, a bead of sweat dripping off his forehead and tarnishing the wood. Nesta wouldn’t like if he got his sweat all over the table, even though her and Cassian had coated it in far more scandalous bodily fluids. He should do something productive, like work or eat or pester Rhys and Feyre to have Nyx for the afternoon, but instead he chose to close his eyes and picture the person who’d been haunting him.

He and Gwyn were friends. She was over nearly every night to eat with Nesta, their dinners a sort of lively Azriel hadn’t experienced since he’d lived in Illyria with Rhys and Cas. It was joyful to live in a space filled with such light, but also overwhelming. Azriel found that as much as he loved the time with the rag-tag team they’d made for themselves, his social timer still clicked in his mind as a constant reminder that sometimes dealing with people, even the ones you loved, could be utterly exhausting.

Not with Gwyn though, his shadows lamented, setting him straight. No, Azriel never felt tired with her.

“Az?”

As though his thoughts alone had summoned her, Gwyn’s voice startled him out of his reverie. He turned, his lips parting slightly at the sight of her.

She was still in her training gear – a shirt and pants lovingly stitched by Emerie with embroidered flowers decorating the seams – her neat braid falling around her face, framing her pearlescent skin in fire.

“Gwyneth. Do you need something?”

Her eyes were wide, her hands clasped in front of her as she wrung her fingers. It made Azriel tilt his head in confusion, not understanding why she was so nervous. They spoke every day, she mouthed off at him often, and her shift in confidence had him surprised.

“I have a proposition for you, but you must promise to not tell a soul.”

Azriel raised a brow, leaning back into the table. He spread his hands before him. “I’m listening.”

Gwyn swallowed, her cheeks turning the same shade of red as her hair.

“Imsturbalt,” she squeaked.

“What?”

“I masturbate a lot!” She smacked her hands over her mouth, as if betrayed at the words they spilled.

Azriel’s jaw went slack, his eyes near bugging from his skull. “Okay… that’s good? Self-exploration!” He half-heartedly waved a celebratory fist in the air, not sure what to say to her statement.

She groaned louder than a stabbing victim. “I was thinking that, I didn’t intend to say it aloud.” She rubbed her hands over her face, peeking at him through her fingers. “Please don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“Your secrets are safer with me than they are anyone else.” Azriel smiled, trying to diffuse the obvious tension in her body. “So, your proposition?”

She tensed her jaw, moving her arms behind and looking at the ground as she spoke. “I guess my previous statement that will never be mentioned again to anyone if you like having the functional use of your organsperhaps wasn’t entirely irrelevant to what I’m going to ask you. But I beg, please let me finish before you say anything, and also don’t feel pressured to say yes.”

“Okay.”

“Silence.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She grinned at him, her eyes finally meeting his again. “As you know, better than anyone really, I have a difficult past.”

Azriel wished he could burn the images of finding her on that table from his mind. He’d had to actively teach himself not to envision her crying and screaming for her sister when she’d first became a permanent fixture in House of Wind. He’s seen many horrific things in his time, was no stranger to the worst humanity had to offer, but it was different when it was someone so vulnerable, so selfless, so important to him. It might have made him a bad person that he didn’t equate people’s trauma accordingly, but how could he possibly care for a stranger as much as he cared for Gwyn?

“What happened to me made me fear my body. Fear the sexuality I see women like Nesta and Mor own. They’re so powerful, and the things that have happened to them… They’re not broken. They’re not less. They’re not afraid.” She paused, sighing deeply. “I would never look upon anyone in the library as lesser than because of the things that have happened to them. It wasn’t until I met Nesta and Emerie that I realised I didn’t give myself the same grace. I want to own the parts of me that were stolen. I want to feel like my body belongs to me. I didn’t even know where to begin, but then the House gave me this book, some fluffy romance novel, and the girl in it was just like me. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I just felt so seen. Like the Mother herself had handed this smut piece into my lap to make me feel better.”

Gwyn moved to one of the lounge chairs that Cassian had haphazardly shoved into a corner one night when Nesta didn’t feel like moving from the dining room. Gwyn was effortlessly graceful as she sat and curled her legs up, her head resting on her fist.

“That’s where the masturbating comes in.” Her eyes avoided his again, focusing on patterns her fingers drew in the velvet material of the chair. “The girl in the book did it. She’d never had an orgasm either. So, I did too.” She laughed quietly. “It made me feel good. Not just the physical pleasure part, but the part where it was just me, empowering myself at a pace I was comfortable with.”

Azriel wished he could say something, but one, he knew to be silent and let her have this moment, and two, he didn’t know how to tell someone he was proud of them for touching themselves without it sounding weird. He was proud though, extremely so, at how strong she felt from acting on her wants. Her resilience had always astounded him.

“In the book, the girl meets this man.” Her voice lowered, barely more than a whisper. “He treats her so kindly, in a way that I’ve seen Cassian treat Nesta a million times, in a way I yearn to be treated. I’ve given myself a clean slate. This body, my body, has only been touched by me. I am whole. I was never broken, just healing. And I’m at a stage where I want more. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”

Azriel wished her could say yes, please the eager note in her voice that hoped he was on the same page as her, but even his shadows were silent to her desires.

She glanced at him just long enough to see him shake his head. She tipped her head back. “When Nesta first started sleeping with Cassian, I was so curious. What were they doing? What was he doing to make her look so satisfied? But when I tried to picture it, my stomach would churn. And then time passed. I grew stronger. I became a Valkyrie. And like many others before me and many more in the centuries to come, I walked in on Cassian and Nesta fucking.”

Azriel inhaled sharply. To hear the vulgarity fucking from a mouth so pure sent a bolt through him, and he chided himself for his inappropriate thoughts during such a serious conversation.

“They don’t know I saw, not that I think they would have minded. I would bet good money that if I asked for a demonstration on pleasurable acts Cassian and Nesta would be more than happy to comply. Where I might have once felt sick from seeing them, instead I felt-”

She cut herself off, looking for the right words.

“I felt burning desire. I’ve never been so envious of someone in my life. I didn’t want to have sex with Cassian, but by the Cauldron I wanted to feel the way that Nesta did. I wouldn’t tell you this if I didn’t know you were such a good secret keeper. Or such a good friend.”

Azriel couldn’t bite his tongue any longer. “Gwyn, what do you want from me?”

“I want you to have sex with me.”

***

Azriel stared at his ceiling, his shadows dancing and rolling around him.

I want you to have sex with me.

He tested the words on his own lips. They tasted sweet. They also brought an uncomfortable amount of pressure to his cock. He refused to touch it though and kept both his hands firmly behind his head.

He’d told Gwyn he needed to think about it, and she understood. She said she didn’t expect an answer from him straight away.

Azriel had a lot to consider.

He was practically titillated that when Gwyn had decided she wanted to explore herself with a male, it was him who she thought of. She expressed that it was because she knew he’d care for her, that he’d respect her and because of how much she trusted him. There were not words to express how hearing such things felt to him. It made him want to do this for her, because his soul be damned he knew he would do right by her. Make her feel good, feel special, feel appreciated.

It would be amiss though not to acknowledge that if he did do this, let her warm his bed while he tasted her, it could ruin not just the friendship they had established but also the dynamic of the house. She had assured him that if his answer was no, they would continue their lives as if the conversation never happened.

Which brought a darker thought to his mind.

If not Azriel, then who? She would surely approach someone else. Someone not deserving of her, who might not treat her how she deserved to be treated. That was not to say Azriel thought that in all his bastardly ways he was what Gwyn should have – no, she deserved more than he could ever give – but at least he knew that she would be safe with him.

The thought of another male’s hands on her made him see red.

That was answer enough.

***

Nesta and Cassian were gone for the weekend, caring for Nyx while Feyre and Rhys had a romantic getaway for the weekend. Azriel secretly thought Nesta was using this as a trial to see if her and Cassian were ready for a baby.

It was the perfect opportunity to have Gwyn join him.

The day after she’d approached him, he’d slipped her a note after training to say that he was all in, and to meet him the next night. He tried not to watch her face as she read the note but couldn’t help it. She went bright pink, but she seemed exhilarated.

And now she was standing in his room.

They nervously looked at each other. Azriel wanted to give her the chance to speak first other than their obligatory greetings, but she was tongue-tied.

“I was thinking we should take this in steps,” Azriel said, sitting on the edge of his bed, watching her refrain from pacing back and forth.

“That seems logical. What sort of steps?”

“I was thinking tonight we take sex off the table.”

“What?” Her face fell, hurt evident in her expression.

“Just for tonight. Gwyn, have you had your first kiss?”

She shook her head no.

“Then maybe we do that. And anything beyond only what you want. I need you to know that you’re in control here. Whatever we do or don’t do is completely your decision.”

She nodded, a small smile gracing her lips. “That sounds reasonable. Like you’re my little puppet.” Her hands mimed using a marionette, and Azriel found it easy to reciprocate her smile.

She moved to his side, planting herself on the bed next to him. He couldn’t help but notice the how good she smelled, how carefully her hair had been arranged and how she’d worn her nicest dress. She had wanted to look good for him, and the thought made his heart squeeze.

He reached out and held the hands she clasped in her lap. It made her look at him, her teal eyes flashing in the room only lit by his fireplace.

“You’re a very good friend, Azriel.”

“Do you want me to kiss you, Gwyn?”

She nodded, turning her body to face him.

He brushed her cheek with his thumb, then her lips, before he settled on cradling her face. She leant her head into his hand, so trusting as she looked at him. His hand was so big that the fingers that lay on her neck could feel her hammering pulse.

She leant in the same time he did.

At first it was just a peck. Their lips brushing against each other’s so gently it made Azriel ache. He pressed his lips to her again, and again, getting her used to the feeling of his lips on hers. She enthusiastically reciprocated, her slender fingers running up his chest before meeting behind his head, tangling themselves in his hair. He smiled against her mouth, pleased at such a reaction when the real kissing had yet to even start.

His grazed his tongue along her lip, and she eagerly opened her mouth, letting his tongue slip inside her. The noise she made at the contact buzzed straight through him, and he was pleasantly surprised when Gwyn, in all her eagerness, took control of him.

She kissed him as though she had done it her whole life, like her mouth belonged on his, and the feel of her delicate tongue made him deepen their kiss, angling her head so they could better feel one another. She was practically leaning back, and if this had been a meaningless one night stand she’d have been on her back by now with Azriel’s mouth between her thighs.

She broke away from him, his mouth instinctively following hers as it wanted more, making her gleam in pride.

“I want to change positions,” she said, her hands still wired into his hair.

“Anything you want,” he replied breathlessly.

Azriel didn’t know what to expect, but it was not her getting up and crawling into his lap. She straddled his thighs, and there was no way she wouldn’t be able to feel his erection pressing against her. He did with his hands what any male would do in this situation, and her giggle was enough to know that she’d wanted him to do that.

“Your hands are on my ass,” she laughed.

“Is that okay?”

“Very much so.” She took a deep breath. “Take your shirt off. Please.”

He obliged.

“And you should – you should take off my dress too.”

“Are you sure?”

“I have a slip on underneath.”

His hands shook slightly as they ran up her sides and to her back, undoing each button on her dress. To give her a more authentic experience, he decided to lean in as he did, kissing a new spot on her neck with each button that came undone.

She raised her arms so that he could slip the dress over her head, and he averted his eyes when her slip rode up with it. He didn’t look back until she had adjusted herself. When he did, he nearly fainted.

She was divine in her beauty. He always saw lovely she was, anyone with eyes would. Her body was lean and tight. Her uniform may have hidden it, but she had the power of any warrior in her body. Azriel wondered if she purposefully hid her strength so that it was a secret part of her arsenal. Smart female.

He ran his hands up her spread legs before planting them back on her ass. Unable to resist, he squeezed his hands, making her groan.

“Your hands feel so good,” she gasped. “Do everyone’s hands feel like that, or is it just you?”

He snickered. “Anyone who is worth their weight knows how to make a female feel good.” He bumped her shoulder with his nose. “What would you like me to do now? Do you want to keep kissing?”

“Fuck yes I want to keep kissing.” She leaned forward, her breasts pressing against his chest as she playfully nipped at his bottom lip. “But maybe we could do other things. Even better things.”

“What do you have in mind?”

Gwyn reached behind her and grabbed one of the hands resting on her behind. For the first time since they’d started, she looked nervous. Her legs were shaking, and Azriel was unsure if it was anxiety or anticipation for whatever she had planned.

She guided his hand under his slip until he was cupping her sex.

“You aren’t.” He swallowed hard. “You aren’t wearing underwear.”

She shook her head playfully. “I didn’t think I would need to.”

She pressed his hand into her, and he moaned at the wetness he found. She was so slick for him already, and all they had done was kiss. He did an exploratory brush through her folds, and as at the tip of his finger grazed over her clit, she arched into him, holding on tight to his shoulders.

He started teasing her, obsessed with the little noises she was making at the back of her throat as he did, but he soon realised something.

Usually, when Azriel was with a female, they got progressively more… turned on. Their bodies would react to his touch, and his fingers would be coated in their juices before he even attempted to enter them with either his fingers or his cock.

Gwyn was not.

It seemed the more he touched her, the more it was like her body didn’t want this. For all intents and purposes, she was… drying up?

His hand went still, and he could feel her body instinctively relaxing as his hand left her pussy.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered, clinging to him.

“You don’t enjoy this.” He made her look him in the eye, and his throat tightened at how she looked. There were tears lining her eyes and a deep furrow on her forehead.

“I do, I promise I do. I’m just nervous. If we – if we just overcome this one thing-”

“No, Gwyn.”

“Please Azriel,” she said desperately, trying to guide his hand back between her thighs.

As gently as he could, he lifted her from his lap and placed her beside him on the bed. Her breath shuddered, and he couldn’t bear the shattered look on her face.

She didn’t say a word, just stood up and tried to locate her dress. Azriel didn’t even know where he had thrown it, but he stood and stopped her from looking anyway.

“Gwyn…” He grasped her hands in his, towering over her as they faced each other. “I want to do this for you, please believe me when I say that. But maybe we just need to take a few more steps first. Do something else before that.”

“What else is there?” She was dejected, her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know what I’m doing Az. And I swear on the Cauldron I want this. Fuck, this is so embarrassing. I’m just so nervous, and I get in my head about everything I do-”

“Hey hey hey, stop that.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, and the ropable tension in her body started to ease out. She slumped against him, his arms wrapping around her in an embrace. “This is fine. Great, even.”

“You are such a liar.” She sighed, but at least she returned his embrace, tucking herself into him so they were as close as possible.

He tried to think of ways to salvage the night for her, to give her at least a little bit of what she wanted.

An idea sprang to mind.

“Gwyn?”

“Mmm?”

“Get on the bed. Lie down.”

She looked up at him hopefully. She didn’t need to be told twice. She practically flung herself at the bed, laying down on her back and resting her arms above her head. She grinned at him, and he didn’t miss the way she clenched her thighs together than spread them apart like a silent invitation.

Azriel couldn’t help but brighten at her enthusiasm. He undid the buttons on his pants and kicked them down so he was naked before her.

“I thought we weren’t having sex!” She jolted to her side, holding herself up on her arms and staring at his penis, her eyes practically bulging out of her head at the sight of it.

There were many things Azriel did not like about himself. But he had a damn fine cock.

He laughed at the look on her face and shook his head. “We’re not having sex. I’m not even going to touch you.”

She deflated. “Really? Not even a little bit?”

He followed her to the bed, climbing over her without touching her and planting himself next to her so they were lying side to side. He turned his head to her, and she looked at him curiously.

“We’re not just going to lie here naked, are we? It’s a bit cold for that.”

It was a little chilly. Her nipples were hard under her slip, which had ridden up to her stomach.

“No, but we can get under the blanket if you want.”

Her gaze raked up and down his body. “I’m happy above the blanket.”

They laid in a comfortable silence for a moment, happily taking in each other’s bodies. She was the most exquisite thing he had ever seen, and he was glad to see that their kissing antics had left her dishevelled. He liked that look on her.

“Are you actually not going to touch me?”

“I’m not. I think you should touch yourself.”

“Pardon?”

“I’ll touch myself, too. It’ll be a way for us to be more comfortable with each other. For you to be in control of your pleasure.”

“Will you watch me?” she murmured.

“If that’s okay. You can watch me, too.”

She considered his words, and Azriel wondered if this was in fact not the good idea he’d thought he’d had. She pursed her lips, and he knew her answer when she grabbed the hem of her slip and pulled it off, leaving her naked before him.

They stared into each other’s eyes as her hand brushed over her exposed breasts, and Azriel had to hold himself back from taking them in his mouth, from pinching her perked nipples with his teeth. Maybe later, that could come; he thought she would quite like it.

Her right hand kneaded her breast and tweaked her nipple while her left dipped down between her legs. Two fingers ran over her core, and he studied the way she massaged herself so that he could do it to her in the future. At the sight, he tentatively grasped his cock, wanting to make sure that she was truly okay with him touching himself at the vision of her with her fingers dipping inside her, moistening herself before focusing on her clit.

Her eyes flickered to his stroking hand, and her response nearly made him finish then and there like a teenager exploring themselves for the first time. She’d seen him, and lifted her leg so that it was draped over one of his, giving her a better angle on her clit and twining them together.

“I’m used to being quiet,” she shuddered. “So that no one hears me.”

“Be as loud as you want. Scream for me.”

Her hand quickened, and his sack tightened as he matched her speed with his own hand, gripping himself tightly. He moaned so loudly that he was once again thankful that Cassian and Nesta weren’t in the house. Even the magic of the walls mightn’t contain the pleasure pulsing through him as he watched her.

Her legs started to shake, and the little noises she’d made before were no more. Her voice was loud as she no longer held herself back from feeling even ounce of her impending orgasm.

“What are you thinking about?” She asked, her hips starting to gyrate against her hand.

“You. All I can think of is you,” Azriel moaned. He pumped himself quicker, his grip becoming harder.

“What about you,” he whispered in her ear. “Are you thinking about what you saw Cassian do to Nesta?”

Her toes curled at his words. “I’m thinking of what I saw them doing, but it’s you and me.”

“What are we doing, Gwyneth?”

Her eyes fluttered shut. Her tongue licked her lips before she bit down on them. “We’re in the library. You have me bent over one of the desks, and you’re taking me from behind. One of your arms is around me, and you’re flicking my clit as I scream your name. You’re so deep in me, Azriel, I can feel every inch of you as I clench around you. Cauldron, you feel so good. The best thing I’ve ever felt, Az.”

His breath hitched, and he felt himself on the brink of coming. What finally did him in was her teeth biting down on his shoulder as she screamed his name, her orgasm making her whole body shake as it overcame over.

When they had both come down from their highs, they laid trying to catch their breath, both their bodies covered in sweat.

“That was amazing,” she sighed, turning to face him.

He grabbed a corner of the unused blanket beneath them to wipe himself off, then turned to face her, an arm going around her waist and his lips pressing a kiss to her forehead and cheek.

He wanted to look at her body, finally relaxed and languid, but his shadows had another idea. They bathed over her like silk, dancing over her curves and crevices, making her laugh.

“I quite like them,” she said, her eyes starting to drift closed.

“Are you tired?”

“Mhmm.” She snuggled into him further, stealing his warmth. His cock responded to her touch, but it was too soon yet to do anything meaningful.

“Move up for a sec.”

“Is that you trying to hint that I should go?” Her voice was joking, but the look on her face said that she’d go if he wanted her too.

“Absolutely not, you’re staying here with me. I’m just grabbing the blanket.”

She moved away just long enough for him to pull the blankets over them and pull her to his chest again.

She made a content noise and closed her eyes to sleep, and Az thought to himself that he didn’t care if this one day ended their friendship, because it might very well be the best time of his life anyway.

***

The next two weeks were filled with them sneaking away and feverishly touching themselves in all sorts of ways. Once, Gwyn sat in his lap naked while they stroked themselves, kissing each other the entire time. Another time, she pleasured herself by grinding against his thigh and he palmed himself – they hadn’t even bothered to take their clothes off. A late-night training session had led to her using a particularly shaped massage tool on herself in very a scandalous way while he watched, near feral at the sight of her pumping into herself. He did not return that item to the training ring, instead he kept it in his bedside drawer for future use.

It wasn’t until sixteen days and countless orgasms into their agreement that Azriel was finally able to touch her.

It had been a busy night. Rhys, Feyre, Nyx, Mor and Emerie were over for dinner, and it had been the most fun Az had had in a group since last solstice. At the table, he’d had Feyre on one side and Gwyn on the other, and her little secret touches to his thigh made him feel warm all over.

It wasn’t necessarily an arousing touch, just an affectionate one. When the group had started to disperse to drink, Nesta the sober adult taking care of Nyx, Az noticed Gwyn sneak away. He promptly followed her, making sure everyone was distracted as he did so no one noticed what they were doing.

Within a few minutes he was between her thighs tasting her. She had mentioned the night before that she wanted his tongue on her, and by the Cauldron was he happy to oblige. She was sitting on the edge of desk in the library that she’d described to him all those weeks ago, and whilst on his knees before her, he jerked himself off as she crumbled beneath his mouth.

Thankfully, by the time they returned, people were far too tipsy to question where they’d been.

Except for Nesta, who looked suspiciously between the two of them. Whatever she was thinking, it was at Gwyn’s behest if she knew anything. It was her decision, always, what happened between them, and if she wanted people to know about their sneakiness, that was for her to decide.

Seven days later is when she first touched him. Until that point it had all been about her, which is what Azriel wanted. They were on his bed, his fingers deep inside her as they kissed, when her hand brushed against his cock. He moved his hips aside, and she broke their kiss off with a noise of indignation.

“Stop swatting my hands away!” She flicked his nose with her finger.

“Huh?” He was still dazed on the sound of his hand gliding through her dripping wet core.

“Do you not want me to touch you?” Her voice was curt.

“I just want this to be about you. I don’t want you to think that I’m only with you for my own sexual gratification. The only thing that matters to me is your happiness, my soul purpose is you. You’re my priority.” He kissed her neck. “My desires are your desires.” Another kiss. “I can’t focus if you’re anything less than panting and satisfied.”

She pursed her lips, a familiar expression at this point. It turned into a joyful smile, and she smacked a kiss to his lips. “That was actually very sweet. After I get you off, I’m going to sit on your face.”

What was even better than the heavy petting and intense make out sessions was the talking. Sometimes for hours they would just tangle themselves together and divulge their life stories. Azriel knew all about her sister and mother – Gwyn confessing that she felt guilt when her twin wasn’t on the forefront of her mind, but sometimes she pushed her away because the memory of her was overwhelmingly devastating. Az wiped her tears away, desperate to see her smile again. But he also knew of all the good times she’d had growing up, and it made him feel alight inside to know how loved she was. Az told her mostly of Rhys and Cassian and the family they had made for themselves, about how it was so hard to be away from his mother, but he wouldn’t have survived another day in his father’s presence. Gwyn cried for him sometimes, and Azriel had never known such empathy from another.

When they were alone in the House, Nesta and Cassian off on one of their sexcations, Gwyn would spend her evenings and nights with him just as a friend, doing housework and menial tasks that she didn’t have to while humming various tunes. Az would tell her to stop working, but she would just grin and say she liked feeling like part of a home too much to not pretend that she lived there too. So he would just hum with her, his shadows dancing and swaying the way they always inevitably did around her. Then they would fall into bed together (or any surface really) until they were spent and exhausted.

Azriel had never known happiness like this.

***

Azriel was buzzing with excitement. He’d left Gwyn wrapped up in his bed, the sun not yet risen, and made sure to leave her some breakfast on his nightstand and the fire burning to keep her warm without his body next to hers. Usually he would wake her up early with his head between her thighs so she could go back to the library, but she had already told the acolytes she roomed with that she would be staying with Nesta, so no need to sneak around when no one was expecting her.

Before they’d gone to sleep the night before, Gwyn said something to him that left him smiling even now as he made his way to Rhys.

I want to have sex, Az. I’m sure. I know I’m safe with you.

Az didn’t know why Rhys needed him, but if it involved leaving Velaris, he would barter for a few more days so that he might be with Gwyn before he left. An odd feeling entered his chest at the thought. He couldn’t name the feeling; he just knew he didn’t want to leave Gwyn alone.

He landed on the doorstep of Feyre and Rhys’ home. Before he had the chance to let himself in, Feyre opened the door, a grave look on her face.

“Quick. Before they start yelling.” Feyre pinched her nose, the other hand holding Nyx on her hip.

Azriel pushed past her, and it wasn’t hard to find the source of Feyre’s frustration.

“Once again you fucking asshole, you need to back off. How dare you-”

“Nes, calm down-”

“Tell me to calm down again Cassian and I’m out of here. As I was saying, how fucking dare you accuse her of such things, Rhysand, High Lord of Shitting me up the Wall.”

“Nesta, for fuck’s sake you’re getting defensive for no reason!”

“No reason?!” she spat, Cassian holding her back before she lunged at Rhys.

“Too late,” Feyre muttered at him as she walked into the office, sitting at the desk to remain neutral in Nesta and Rhysand’s pissing match. Azriel would love to know what had riled them up so much that they were nearly screaming at each other, but any guidance from his brothers was not there.

“You have to admit that it’s suspicious, Nesta!”

Rhys threw his arm at Azriel as he approached, looking triumphant. “Azriel will agree with me.”

“He will not.”

“May I ask what I might need to agree to, or will it remain a mystery as to why you’re yelling so early in the morning?” Az crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for them to stop acting like children.

“Rhys accused Gwyn of being a spy,” Nesta growled.

“You’re twisting my words! I said I’d had reports of her acting strange, of her behaviour being completely different, and I suggested that it was worth looking into. We have to consider the safety of Velaris, and Gwyn would be the perfect plant.”

Azriel was sure Rhys was going to say more, but he was interrupted by Azriel’s uncontrollable fit of laughter. His laughs shook his whole body, and he felt tears in his eyes from how hard his fit was hitting him. He had to bend over to try and catch his breath, clutching at his chest as though his lungs might leap out of it.

“What’s so funny,” Rhys deadpanned.

Azriel shook his head and walked to Nesta, putting an arm around her shoulder.

“Are you serious, Rhys? Gwyn? Gwyenth Berdara?”

“Yes, I’m serious. Both Clotho and Merrill have approached me. Clotho, because she was worried, and Merrill, because she thought that Gwyn was being insubordinate. Clotho has had multiple girls come to her in fear for Gwyn, saying she’s been disappearing at night and coming back early in the morning. They she’s tired, unfocused, and that she’s exceeding every expectation they had for her in training and acting like a different person in the library. This has all been reported over the last month.” Rhys picked Nyx out of Feyre’s arms to calm himself before continuing. “Gwyn knows incredibly sensitive information about us. She helped us with the Trove, she treats the House of Wind like she bloody lives there. She’s awfully comfortable for a person who previous to knowing us refused to leave the library.”

Any humour Azriel felt had been leeched from his body. Nesta’s verbal beating of Rhys had been justified and then some.

“With all due respect, you can go fuck yourself,” he bit at his brother.

Feyre made a noise in the back of her throat and took Nyx back from Rhys before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.

Too much swearing for such little ears! she said into their minds as she was leaving.

“What the fuck, Az?” Rhys looked startled.

“I knew he’d side with me,” Nesta said smugly.

“She’s ‘awfully comfortable?’ Yeah, she is, because she found a fucking family. Nesta is like a sister to her, and she’s over at the House a lot not because she’s entitled, but because we want her there. You might not make that much of an effort with Nesta’s friends because of your own personal shit, but Cassian and I consider her a close friend. Accusing her of anything unbecoming, to me, is as bad as if you’d dragged me in here to tell me Cassian was working against us. You sound ludicrous. Also, need I remind you, it’s not your fucking House anymore. Who we have over is none of your damned business.”

Rhys scoffed. “It’s not your House either.”

“Sorry, High Lord Rhysand, I’ll manage my expectations.” Az clenched his jaw at Rhys’ words. He was right. Azriel didn’t technically have any property, neither had Cassian until Rhys had given Nesta the House as a mating gift. Azriel didn’t technically have a home beyond the sky, nothing worth giving to or sharing with another person. Even now, Gwyn was waiting for him in a bedroom that technically wasn’t is. He wouldn’t dare leave though, not when he knew it was one of only two places that Gwyn felt safe in.

“Why are you getting so defensive? You know what I’m saying is reasonable.”

“It would be if we didn’t know her. She is… there are not words to describe her.”

“Yes, there is,” Nesta piqued. “She is competitive. She is feisty. She’s a Valkyrie. She is the kindest soul in Velaris. She is so brave, and strong, and the most selflessly loving person I’ve met in my entire life. If you weren’t so thick headed, you would see that she’s like Feyre in a lot of ways.” Nesta paused. She left Azriel’s side to stand in front of Rhys, her shoulders back and her head high. “If you accuse her of something it would break her heart. I won’t let you hurt her.”

“I would never hurt her, Nesta.” Rhys rubbed a hand over his face. “If you’re so convinced that nothing is going on, can you explain her strange behaviour.”

Nesta turned away from Rhys, so that he couldn’t see her face. When Nesta looked over at Azriel, she didn’t need to say a single word for him to know that she knew the exact reason Gwyn was acting different.

It was because of him.

“I don’t need to explain it because I trust her. I’m also with her nearly every minute of every day. Do you not think I would not notice if she was conniving against us? Or are you truly that foolish?”

“I agree with Nesta,” Cassian said. “She’s either with us training the Valkyries, or she’s working with Nesta in the library. Who cares if she’s a little distracted, we all are sometimes.”

“And you’re sure of this?” Rhys directed his question at Azriel, almost as if he couldn’t trust Cassian and Nesta to be impartial because of how close they were to Gwyn. Huh. If only he knew.

“I have never been surer of anything.”

***

“Azriel, wait.”

Azriel was stalking through the front gardens. He would walk until his head was clear, then he would go home – go to the House of Wind – and spend the morning with Gwyn. Nesta had other plans.

“What is it?”

“Gwyn-”

“-will be safe. I won’t let Rhys near her.”

“I’m not worried about that. What is going on between you two?”

“Nothing.”

“I’m not blind. All the things Rhys described? Sure, might be espionage, but it might also just be someone falling in love.”

“We’re not together.” Love? What a preposterous thought. Gwyn had been very clear from the beginning in what she wanted from him. She needed someone to fulfil her physical needs, and Azriel was happy to do so. All the other stuff, the talking and friendship, was just icing.

“Then what are you doing? Setting yourselves up to get hurt?”

“This is a conversation you should have with her.”

“She trusts you so much, Az. Please, don’t do anything that would hurt her. She’s come so far since we met.”

“Nesta, I promise you I couldn’t dream of hurting her. The thought alone makes me feel visceral pain. What we do, what we are, is just her making decisions and doing what she wants. How did you even know there was something going on?”

Nesta smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I guessed she had a flirtation with someone. I knew it was you from the way she started saying your name.”

Azriel felt his eyes burn, but he did not know why. “The way she says my name?”

“I’ve heard the way she says it a million times. From Cassian and I. From Rhys and Feyre. I can’t describe it beyond that.”

Azriel shoved his hands in his pockets and shifted where he stood. “Have you told Cas?”

“I don’t need to, he knows.”

“So you guys have talked about it?”

“No. I haven’t told him that I know. But I know he knows. And he also knows I know.”

“So he knows you know even though you haven’t told him you know and you know he knows even though he hasn’t said he knows?”

“Exactly,” she laughed. Her smile was more genuine now. It was a look she’d only had since her mating ceremony. It sung contentment, something she, like him, struggled to have.

She came to him and linked their arms, resting her head on his shoulder. Her friendship was invaluable to him, as much as it was a surprise when it first started to form.

“I have one other thing to say, and then I’ll let you go home to Gwyn.”

“Yes, Nesta?”

“The House of Wind is as much as your home as it is mine. You can stay there forever if you want. It is your home, Azriel, and I wouldn’t dream of it being anything else.”

***

Gwyn was awake when Azriel returned home. She was humming a song to herself in bed, wrapped in his blankets like it was a cocoon. She had the breakfast he made for her in her lap, and when he entered the room, she pulled the blanket aside and opened her arms for him to fall into to.

Maybe he still looked stormy after his talk with Rhys, or maybe she just wanted to hold him. Either way, he fell happily into her embrace.

***

Gwyn had set a date. She did not intend to be so clinical about it, she just wanted to give herself a chance to mentally prepare for what was about to happen, and she needed a few days to do so.

The month she’d had with Azriel had been… Cauldron, she did not know how to exactly describe it. When she had approached him, she honestly did not think that he would say yes to such a ridiculous idea. But he had, and he’d given her nothing short of the best month of her life. Her cheeks ached from how much she was smiling, and even if she was tired when she worked, she wouldn’t give up her restless nights for anything.

It would also be remiss for her to not acknowledge that perhaps what she had with him was more than an arranged bargain, but any time the thoughts propped up she promptly put them to the side.

She had not gone to see Az last night, needing the time to do extra work so that she could be missed for a day. Or two. Maybe even three.

Gwyn didn’t know how long this marathon might last, but if it were anything like Nesta and Cassian’s, it could be a while.

She had also warned Clotho and the females she shared her room with that she would be staying at the House of Wind for a few days. When asked why, she just said she was doing something with Emerie without going into any detail.

So, tonight it was. She was ready.

She was so fucking ready.

The moment dinner was served in the library she made a run for it, having to physically restrain herself from skipping out of the library. She was so excited, her body literally vibrating with energy, that she didn’t even see Nesta before their bodies slammed together.

They went to a ground in a tangled fumble, and Nesta was too busy laughing to listen to Gwyn’s repeated apologies. The brisk evening air greeted them, the stars starting to peek through the violet dusk as they laid on the path that took them from the library to the training area to the House.

“Well, you made looking for you much easier,” Nesta said, brushing off her dress as she stood. She offered Gwyn a hand, which she gladly took. Nesta started walking towards the House, their hands not dropping as they swung them between them like children.

“Why were you looking for me?”

“Emerie is here with Mor and Feyre. I wanted you to join us for dinner.”

“I have dinner with you every night.”

“I know, but I wanted you to know that you’re not just welcome but also invited.”

Gwyn smiled at Nesta, love for her friend filling her heart.

They approached the House, Nesta’s face falling as they walked in and saw Rhys standing in the middle of the room, confused looks on the faces of Mor and Emerie as everyone just looked uncomfortable.

Nesta’s hands squeezed Gwyn’s, and for just a second it felt like Nesta was about to pull Gwyn right back to the library.

“I’m not sure what the problem is,” Mor said slowly. “We go out in Velaris all the time, why can’t we tonight?”

“You’re more than welcome to, I would just rather stay here,” Azriel replied.

Gwyn knew the look on his face. It was the same look he’d had a few days ago when he’d returned from Mother knows where after Rhys summoned him. Gwyn assumed Azriel had just had to do one of the many hard tasks expected of a spymaster, but perhaps there was something else if his face was a mirror of that again now.

“What’s going on?” asked Nesta.

They all turned to look at them like they were surprised to see them. Not even Azriel had noticed their entrance, although Gwyn self-admitted that Azriel tended to be surprised by her sudden appearances quite often. She didn’t know for sure, but she thought maybe his shadows didn’t bother warning him when she was near. It’s not like she was a danger to the guy.

“Rhys came and said we should try the new restaurant on the Rainbow! The one near Feyre’s studio? I’ve heard really nice things about it, and the family that opened it are really beautiful.” Mor beamed at them all, trying to disperse the odd tension. “And then maybe we could go dancing.”  

The idea sounded wonderful, and Gwyn wistfully wished she could join them. In reality, just the thought of going into the city set her heard racing. The only time she had ever left the library or the House, other than to go to Emerie’s house which landed them in the Bloodrite, was to officiate Nesta and Cassian’s mating ceremony. Although the memory was one of her most treasured ones, it was not something she thought she would be able to do again. Not yet.

“I’ve heard great things about that place,” Nesta replied, her stomach audibly grumbling at just hearing about the exquisite food it might receive.

“You are all more than welcome to go.” Azriel swept a hand out between them. “But I don’t want to.”

His gaze flickered to Gwyn, and suddenly the eyes of everyone were on her.

A blanket of understanding washed over the room. Most eyes were understanding, Mor’s held the pity that Gwyn hated, and Rhys looked indifferent, if not satisfied.

Azriel’s resistance became evident. It wasn’t just that it was the night, their night, but he didn’t want her to be left alone whilst everyone else galivanted through the city having the time of their lives when they knew she wouldn’t be able to join them.

“I don’t want to go either. It’s been a long week and I’m tired,” said Nesta.

Gwyn narrowed her eyes at her lying sister but couldn’t hold it in her heart to be angry. In face, she had to stop it from swelling with how loving their words felt. They didn’t want her to be alone. They wanted to stay with her.

“You know,” spoke Emerie softly, “I can’t imagine anywhere making food as well as the House.”

Mor’s eyes shot to Emerie, and Gwyn wondered if she was imagining the slight betrayed look in them.

“Guy’s, c’mon. Rhys and I made a reservation, they’re expecting us! It would be rude not to go,” Mor pleaded.

Azriel opened his mouth to snap back, but Gwyn interrupted. “She’s right. You should go enjoy yourselves.”

“But Gwyn-”

“It’s okay, Nesta. Please, I really think you should all go.” She made a point to look at Azriel. “It sounds like it would be a lot of fun.”

“It’s not fair to arrange activities that we can’t all participate in.” Azriel’s voice had softened as he looked at her, and if she didn’t have better self-control she would stride over and plant a kiss on his pouting lips.

“How could Mor have known that Gwyn would be here? It’s not her fault,” Rhys interjected.

“That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard-”

“Stop, just stop.” Gwyn clutched her hands in front of her and stepped away from Nesta. She needed them to see her as an adult, as someone who was strong and to be taken seriously. “It’s fine. Really, truly. I have a lot to do anyway.” She turned to Feyre and waved her fingers at Nyx. “If you would like, I can take care of him so you can enjoy some grown-up time.”

For a second Feyre looked hopeful, but then she schooled her face into neutrality. Rhys stepped between the two, and Feyre had to put an arm on his shoulder.

As if to stop him stepping any further.

Gywn blinked, feeling like she should blanch away but not sure as to why.

“That won’t be necessary,” Rhys said. She’d heard him use that voice before. It was his political voice. His I-have-an-agenda voice. Now it was her turn to look confused.

“No worries,” Gwyn whispered.

She looked away from the High Lord’s searing gaze and back to her friends. She hoped her face didn’t speak of her sadness.

“Please go. I would feel awful if any of you stayed on my part. If anything, by going and having a great time you’d be doing me a favour, because I wouldn’t feel guilty.”

“You could always just come with us,” Mor said, tucking her hair behind her ears in a way that was comically similar to how the ‘popular’ girls in her smutty books would behave.

Gwyn bit her lip, thinking about it. Of course, logically, she would be safe. They would all be there, Azriel would be there, but she genuinely felt like she might vomit at the thought. A bead of sweat dripped down her back, and she despised how her eyes stung with tears. She breathed the way her and Nesta had learnt from Valkyrie texts and pulled herself back to reality. Sometimes the logic of actions did not dictate how you would feel, or react, to a situation. Gwyn reminded herself once more to be kinder to herself.

“Thank you for the offer, Mor, but I am happy here.” Gwyn smiled brightly at them all, and they seemed to relax – all but Az and her sisters.

She shooed them out of the House, hoping that one day she would be able to join them.

***

It was odd. Gwyn had spent much time over the last few years alone, but it had never affected her. And although the House was quite good company – it had dinner and dessert ready for her with a box of tissues and chocolates even before Cassian had finally flown off with the resistant Nesta – it wasn’t the same as spending time with someone who could talk back to you.

She only just made it through her meal when she crawled into Azriel’s bed, hoping the scent of him would make her feel better.

It didn’t, but the sight of his room did. There were unlit candles lining the room, and flowers adorning every surface. The cheeky male had even installed a mirror on the ceiling above the bed, and she blushed profusely at the implications.

He had tried to make it romantic, and she adored him for it.

She had no idea when he would be back, and she scolded herself for wishing it would be sooner rather than later. She wanted him to be out and about with his family, even if it made her burn with envy that everyone would be able to enjoy him but her.

She rolled over, stuffing her face into his pillow and groaning. She should take off her day clothes and resign herself to pyjamas. Maybe she should sleep in a different bedroom so as to not torture herself with what this night could have been.

Her night with Az. The night with Az.

“That’s it. I am so over this,” she said aloud before springing up. She stomped out of the room and towards Nesta’s, flinging her closet open to inspect her clothes.

It was just a restaurant. It was safe. She would be fine. Besides, how could she overcome her fears if not to face them? She had gone to Emerie’s and survived. She had gone to Nesta’s mating ceremony and survived. She had won the bloody Bloodrite!

As she looked through the dresses, she quickly realised they wouldn’t fit. They would hang loose at her hips and chest, where Nesta was beautifully endowed and she was not.

“Not to worry, I’ll just take a coat then.” Taking the first one she saw, light but soft enough that warmth wouldn’t be an issue, Gwyn shoved her shoes on approached the door that led to the ten thousand steps that would take her to Velaris. She didn’t know where to go from there, but she knew in her heart of hearts that she would be able to find her friends with enough willpower. And since meeting Nesta and Emerie, since being empowered by the strongest females she knew and since empowering herself, she knew she had that willpower in abundance.

“Let’s fucking do this.”

***

She didn’t know at what point the House had left her, its omnipresence not connected to the stairs, but she was doing just fine even if she felt its absence. She counted in her head to keep track of where she was.

One thousand. Feeling good. Coat in arms.

Two thousand. Out of breath but in a good way.

Three thousand. Fucking shit.

Four thousand. Maybe she should turn around.

Five thousand.

Six thousand. How has Nesta done this multiple times?

Seven thousand. She had this! This was easier than Ramiel!

Eight thousand. If she died here no one would find her.

Nine thousand.

Ten. Fucking. Thousand.

Gwyn realised that there was no way she’d be able to eat with them. They would be having dessert if they hadn’t already moved on. She just needed to find them.

As Gwyn took the last step, her toes touched the streets of Velaris for the very first time.

It was so beautiful she thought she might cry. There was colour everywhere, the laughter of adults and children alike, and she could smell delicious food as the many restaurant’s wide-open doors let the scents pour into the streets. The faelights lining the streets reminded her of the stars she often gazed at with Azriel, the thought of him like a caress to her mind.

Azriel loved Velaris, would die for this city if he had to. How could she been afraid of something he loved so much?

She took one step. Then one more. She was sure to anyone that glanced her way she must have looked like a lunatic, her eyes wide in wonder as she moved at a snail’s pace, Nesta’s coat bundled in her arms because after all those steps she didn’t need it.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, equal parts fear and excitement, as she walked through the city. She got a few odd looks, but she could see it was out of curiosity for a newcomer in a city that had been locked down for centuries, and not for violence. She wasn’t leered at or bothered. In fact, the only time someone even talked to her was when a toddler sprinted from his mother’s side, his legs too quick for his body to keep up, and he fell into her.

The mother apologised profusely but Gwyn didn’t care at all. How could she be mad at the pudgy little baby?

It was easy to find her way to a district clearly dedicated to all things food. If possible, she slowed down even more. She peeked inside every restaurant looking for the four sets of wings that would set her friends apart from everyone else.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of searching but was probably closer to forty minutes, she saw them.

Azriel and Rhys were standing outside the restaurant Mor must’ve been talking about. Light and music drifted from its open windows, the streets still full of roaming people. Gwyn knew they wouldn’t be able to see her yet, and she wondered how she should approach them.

Azriel… did not look happy, and the tense set of Rhys’ shoulders and back let her know that his face likely looked the same, even if he was facing away from her.

Before she could think of a strategy, Azriel looked up, his eyes meeting hers.

Gwyn could not describe the feeling that filled her as they drunk in one another. Still standing twenty steps from him, his gaze made her feel like she was wrapped in his arms.

She raised one hand in a wave, and it was like Rhys didn’t exist at all.

Azriel shoved him to the side, Rhys making an indignant sound as he did. He ran to her, and she dropped Nesta’s coat so she could wrap her arms around him as they crashed together. People in the streets backed off at Azriel’s display, and in that moment she couldn’t have cared less about where she was, as long as she was with him.

His wings wrapped around her, creating a shield between them and the outside world.

“Gwyn.”

“Hey Az,” she whispered, her arms around his neck and his face tucked to her shoulder.

“What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” He straightened and brushed the hair from her face. It had stuck to her skin from how much she had sweat while taking the stairs, but she didn’t care how she looked. She knew he certainly never would.

He looked ready to fight an invisible threat, and it made her throb in unspeakable places.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just – I. Um.” She hadn’t rehearsed what she would say to him, but it’s not like she could blurt out Hey! Just wanted to near you at all times and rub my body against yours!

“Did something happen? What do you need me to do?”

She shook her head. “No, no, Az, really, I’m fine. I just regretted not coming out with you all.”

He must have been able to see the honesty on her face and smile, because he relaxed, his wings folding back.

The look on his face was adorable as the realisation dawned on him that she was here for him.

“Did I miss everything? Are you all done?”

He didn’t answer, but he did look behind him. Rhys was standing there with his mouth open, his face laced with something Gwyn couldn’t put a name to. Before she could greet him, Rhys stormed back into the restaurant.

Azriel turned back to her, and he didn’t hesitate when he lifted her chin and kissed her.

She gasped but reciprocated zealously. She pushed her body into his, and his arms went around her as he lifted her off her feet, cradling him to her as he kissed her like she was the wind that let him embrace the skies. He tasted like air, like gold, like this was his final breath and he was he was sharing it with just her.

***

Azriel sat with Gwyn while the rest of their friends danced. She hid it well, but he could tell that she was nervous being in this new environment.

She had been so good, so brave when she went into the restaurant and greeted Azriel’s family. Nesta and Emerie jumped up when they saw her, and Nesta held her tightly while Emerie rushed to get another chair. Nesta was trying to be subtle, but Azriel saw the happy tears she shed as she held Gwyn. Emerie then insisted that Gwyn sit and eat her strawberry and mango cheesecake with her, which earned an inexplicable scowl from Mor. Interesting.

Once Gwyn was satisfied and protesting the consumption of more food, they all walked together to one of the classier bars Nesta used to frequent so they could go dancing. Everyone was light as a feather, except Rhys, but life was hard as a fucking asshole, so Az wasn’t surprised he was feeling surly.

And now here they were. Azriel and Gwyn seated with the others dancing to their hearts content. Mor was spinning around with a giggling Nyx, Feyre and Rhys were swaying but it was obvious they were speaking to each other through their daemati bond, and Emerie and Nesta were terrorising Cassian in a three-way dance.

“How are you feeling?” Azriel asked, his shadows silent to her moods. If it had been anyone else, he would have known she was coming to the restaurant before she’d even left the House. But his shadows didn’t like to spy on her and revelled in him being surprised by her.

“I feel good.” Her gaze was focused on the dance floor, and Azriel glanced over to see what was so entrancing.

Nesta and Cassian were finally dancing alone, Emerie now with Nyx and Mor. The way Cassian and Nesta were grinding on each other was nothing short of pornographic as they moved into the shadows of the dance floor. Nesta’s back was to Cassian, his hands clasped on her hips as his lips were on her neck as she pushed her ass back against him.

Azriel snorted. They’d be fucking in an alley within the next fifteen minutes.

“Do you want to dance like that, Gwyneth?”

She turned to him, a lovely flush spreading from her face to her chest. “No,” she said unconvincingly. She slid her chair closer to his, the bar stool so high she had to hop onto it to sit. It was frightfully cute, and Azriel had to restrain from kissing her again.

He couldn’t help it in the street. The sight of her – rumpled, breathless, her face alight with joy – was too much for him.

She was beginning to be too much for him.

The longer he was with her, the more of her he was allowed to have, the more he feared he could never go back to just a simple friendship. This female would either be his salvation or his ruination, either of which he would happily accept if it meant he could savour every minute he had left with her.

Under the table, she linked their hands, and Azriel thought he might very well die from the touch.

“I’m sorry we didn’t get to enjoy our plans.” He rubbed his thumb against her finger.

She smiled his way, her eyes crinkling at the sides. “It’s okay.” She looked down, biting her lip. “I went to your room. I saw what you had done.”

He swallowed hard. “Did you like it?”

She removed her hand from his and placed it on his thigh. “I loved it.”

He shifted in his seat, glad that the tablecloth was long enough so that anyone around, if they looked, would only see their ankles. “You’re playing with fire right now,” he chucked under his breath as she continued to stroke his thigh.

“I especially liked the mirror on the ceiling. May I ask, what purpose does it serve?” Her smile may have been all innocent, but the way her hand was moving was anything but.

She leant against him so they were touching shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip.

“It was for your pleasure.”

“Is that right?”

He brushed his lips to her ear, grateful that the dim lights of the bar kept them in the shadows and that the dancing bodies kept their scents hidden. And over the live music, no one would hear them. “Mhm. It was so that, no matter what position I put you in, you could watch me.”

She tipped her head back, humming in acknowledgement. Her hand, already in dangerous territory, swept down his increasingly hard length.

He grunted, laying both his hands on the table and fisting the cloth.

“Is this okay?” she asked, breathless.

He nodded, taking a swig of his drink to distract him.

She brushed her hand down again, bolder this time, and he squirmed in his chair.

“I would take it out, but I fear it would be seen over the table. So inside it stays,” she sighed. “It must be hard being so large.” She put her lips to his ear, mimicking what he had done to her. “I do love it though. The size, the taste, I think about it constantly.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he choked out. “But at least I’d die happy.”

Her hand slipped inside his pants, and he couldn’t help but thrust up into her hand. He tilted his head back in pleasure as she worked him, getting the angles just right as she pumped him. He was unbelievably aroused by the public act, barely able to believe that she’d do something so audacious. But Cauldron have mercy, he would do anything if it meant she was touching him. She could ask to ride him right now in the middle of this bar and he would blissfully indulge.

“I’m going to finish soon,” he warned her.

“I can’t wait for you to finish in me.”

Her words were his undoing, and he felt the edge of the table splinter under his grip as he contained his moan of pleasure.

He stared at her as she pulled her hand from him, offering him a serviette to clean himself like she hadn’t just given him a mind-blowing orgasm where anyone could have seen.

“Az?” she asked after a few, content minutes of silence.

“Yes, Gwyneth?”

“Do you think we could go dance?”

***

Gwyn couldn’t remember the last time she had been this relentlessly happy. Azriel flew her and Emerie back to the House of Wind, the latter looking forlorn as they finally left the bar in the small hours of the morning.

Rhys and Feyre had left much earlier, Nyx too small to stay up that late, and if Gwyn was being honest she was surprised they lasted as long as they did. Feyre seemed fine, but Rhys was in a shocking mood. Every time she asked Azriel about it, he just muttered about Rhys being a jerk without elaborating. She could tell that whatever it was, it was sensitive, so she didn’t push him.

Her and Nesta put a very intoxicated Emerie to bed, stripping her and putting her into some pyjamas before tucking her in nice and tight with some herbs on her nightstand that would help her head in the morning. Azriel and Cassian had already gone to their respective bedrooms, and Gwyn contemplated how she was going to sneak into Azriel’s room when Nesta stopped her.

“Can we talk for a second?”

“Of course.”

Nesta led her to the library, and they plopped themselves onto one of the plush couches. Gwyn faced her as she sat, tucking her feet under Nesta’s thighs to keep them warm.

Two hot chocolates appeared to them on a table, a dish of marshmallows to the side. They whispered their thanks to the House, claiming the warm drinks. Gwyn pressed hers up against her face, liking the warmth on her skin.

“What do you want to talk about?” Gwyn asked, taking a sip.

“Azriel. You. You and Azriel.” Nesta patted her shin, and Gwyn put her drink down. This wasn’t a hot chocolate kind of conversation.

“I don’t know what you’re talk-”

“Do you love him, Gwyn? Because if you did, or even if you don’t, you don’t have to sneak around Cassian and I and pretend nothing is happening. You can live here, forever if you want. All four of us in the House.”

“Nesta-”

“Imagine if we both had our families and babies here. It’s a big place, we wouldn’t get in each other’s way. And maybe Emerie could come too and she could fall in love too and we’d all be so happy. Okay, I’m rambling and that was weird. What I’m trying to say is – is that you can Azriel are so obviously together and I’m wracking my brain trying to figure out why you’re keeping it a secret from us, not that I care that you have secrets you’re an adult and you don’t have to tell me everything, and I’m so fucking happy for you, Gwyn, and I want you to know that you can be publicly happy, if you want.”  

“Nesta…”

“I just love this. You and him. I’ve never seen Azriel so happy and you just smile all the time. And, oh, it reminds me of Cassian. In the way that I can see ourselves reflected in you two, and I wonder if maybe if I hadn’t been so,” she gestured at her head, “you know, then I could have just been this happy from the start of us, with him, like you two. So I need you to know that if you want that, if you want him, I am so incredibly supportive and I will do anything you want if it means you get your happily ever after. Okay, I’m done.”

“Nesta.”

“And I also would just love to know how this all began. Like the secret little smiles and observations that I’ve had for as long as I’ve known you just changed one day. And I know you guys used to train alone sometimes and I know you were always here with him, and me and Cas but I can’t pinpoint when your friendship turned into this.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Sorry, I really am done now.”

“Are you sure?” Gwyn pinched her cheek lovingly, and Nesta swatted it away.

“Yes.”

Gwyn took a second to think about her words, and as nice and idyllic as they sounded, Gwyn wasn’t sure they were the truth.

“Nesta, we aren’t together.”

“What?”

“We have a…” Gwyn struggled to find the words. “Deal? Agreement?”

“A sexy agreement?”

Gwyn laughed. “No. Well, yes actually.” She launched into the story of how her and Azriel had started their bargain, detailing how Azriel had agreed to help her overcome her fear, and how much they practised towards her ultimate goal of sex. Gwyn also expressed how their closeness was something she treasured, as spending so much time together naturally led to a deepening in their friendship. Her face stained pink as she told her of some of the things they had done, but how, after over a month together, that hadn’t actually sealed the deal.

Nesta was silent the entire story, letting Gwyn speak her truth. She was contemplative over Gwyn’s words, not saying anything until she was done speaking.

“Before I say anything, I want to let you know how incredibly proud of you I am, and how much I support wanting to explore yourself and your sexuality. No matter what I say, I need you to know that.”

Well, that wasn’t a good start.

“I understand, Nesta.”

“Gwyn, do you love him?”

Gwyn took a deep breath. It was a topic she often pushed from her mind, unable or not wanting to broach the subject. “I don’t know.”

“It’s a yes or no, Gwyn.”

Gwyn shrugged her shoulders. “What if it’s a ‘I’m not sure because I so thoroughly blurred the lines between what was real and what I asked him to do to help me?’ What if it’s a ‘I don’t know if I could say it to him but if he said it to me, I would say it back in an instant?’”

“Do you know how he feels about you? Has he said anything?”

Gwyn shook her head. “I know we’re friends. I know he cares about me. I know he would do anything I asked of him. I know he must love me, in some way, but I don’t know if it’s love-love or platonic love.”

“And he’s never given any sort of indication of his intentions?”

Gwyn pondered how thoughtful he was, how detail oriented he was to her pleasure and how he was the best part of her day. And as she thought about it, about him, who was so caring and lovable and agreeable, and she realised that a lot of what he did for her – the comfort, the talking, the support – he would do for anyone.

“I’ve never asked.” Her breath shuddered, and Nesta put a hand to her cheek.

“Maybe you should.”

“What if he doesn’t feel the same way as I do? What if I’m just an obligation?”

“Oh, my love.” Nesta repositioned them so that Gwyn was lying down, her head in Nesta’s lap, as Nesta lovingly stroked her hair. It reminded Gwyn so much of what Catrin used to do that she couldn’t help the tears that started to shed.

“It’s better to know what you are to him. If it’s any consolation, I think he cares about you a great deal. Maybe even loves you. It’s hard to tell when he’s naturally so cold.”

He wasn’t cold, she wanted to say, he was the warmest person she knew. Instead, she cried, and she let Nesta comfort her like she always did.

***

A few days passed, and although Gwyn never left the House, her sexual relations with Az didn’t progress. Rather, they stopped altogether. He didn’t mind at all, he was just glad for her company. They talked and trained, and Azriel was surprised that somehow he could be even more impressed of her than before.

She also started doing what he called her ‘casual kisses.’

They would be doing something monotonous, like sorting weapons for training the next day, and she could kiss him as she walked by him. Or they would be sitting in bed reading, and she would lean over and brush her lips to his temple.

It became a game, who could casually kiss the other first if the opportunity arose, and it was the best game Az had ever played.

He felt himself looking forward to the nights even if the only touching they did was cuddling until they fell asleep in each other’s arms. Azriel wondered if this is what home felt like.

It was late, and Gwyn decided that she needed to return to the library before people started to question where she was. Az didn’t have the heart to tell her they already were.

“I had the most interesting conversation with Nesta the other day,” she said as they reached the door that would take her away.

“What about?”

Gwyn fiddled with her fingers, trepidation oozing from her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, worry starting to maw at him.

“I’m fine.” She turned to face him, and he took the opportunity to kiss her on her hairline. He loved the height different between them, it made him feel bigger than he was. “Nesta asked me about us. She has suspected for a while.”

He schooled his face into neutrality. As far as Gwyn knew, this was new information to him.

He hadn’t told her a word of what had happened between them and Rhys, and it would stay that way. All it would do was hurt her, and Azriel was serious when he said no harm would ever come her way from him. She did not need to know that Rhys was acting like a tool.

In more ways than one. Azriel didn’t need to read minds to know that Rhys was highly suspicious of them both. And more so, as much as it pained him to admit, how much Rhys disapproved. He wasn’t sure why, and he couldn’t bear to ask, but he had a good idea. Rhys, as much as he loved Az, must know that he would never be good enough for Gwyn. The idea had plagued him for days, and the only thing that drove away the dark thoughts were the casual kisses Gwyn would bestow upon him.

“How do you feel about that?” he asked her, snapping back to their conversation.

She shrugged. “At first I was worried, but now I’m actually kind of relieved.”

“Why were you worried?”

“You know, it’s weird. I had it in my head that if people knew I was on this mission to achieve some ultimate, empowering orgasm that they might judge me. But Nesta never would, and I felt like an idiot as soon as she looked at me and told me she knew we were,” she gestured between them, “touching.”

Az snickered. “Touching is one way to sum it up.”

“She asked me something I couldn’t answer.”

“What was that?”

“She asked me what we are.” She brushed her hands over his chest absentmindedly. “What I am to you.”

He clasped her hands and held them to his heart, trying to make her look at him when she was purposefully focusing on the floor.

“What did you tell her?”

“I told her the truth. That I don’t know what I am to you.”

“Gwyn…”

“I need to say something, and I beg you not to interrupt until I’m done.” She sniffled, and he hated the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

She took a deep breath and wiped her tears away, facing him with steel. “I genuinely approached you with nothing but friendship in mind. I had a plan, to sleep with you once and then go back to how we always were before – me, as your overly competitive but absolute best student, and you as, as this God of a man that I could not believe even walked the same existence as me, let alone be someone I considered a friend. You were my ribbon Az. The thing I wanted to be as good as. And then you said yes to me. I didn’t expect you to. I half-thought you would laugh because you thought I was joking. But you didn’t, and you said yes, and I have made the grave mistake of developing feelings I swore to myself I wouldn’t.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but she put a hand over his mouth before he could.

“I had every intention of having sex with you until Nesta asked me what I was to you. And then I realised that if all I was to you was a proposition to uphold, I couldn’t do it. I can’t be with you just once. I can’t be just friends if we take that last step. So, Az, I’m asking you, and please don’t feel obligated to say anything you don’t feel, but what am I to you?”

He couldn’t breathe. His chest felt like his ribs were being ripped apart and then shoved back together until his lungs were caged too tightly. He knew what he wanted to say, that of course she was more than that, she was everything, but then he thought of her spirit being crushed by his inadequacies, and how she could do so much better now that she was ready to. She was pure, she was light, and she deserved more than his darkness.

He had been quiet too long.

Watching her was like watching a porcelain doll shatter after being dropped. Her face crumbled, and she pulled her hands away from him as she tried to contain herself.

“You’re my best friend.” He finally said, his own tears stinging at his eyes. “I can’t lose you.” Which he would, if she stayed with him and realised how truly broken he was.

A sob fractured her chest, and Az hated the way her voice sounded when she spoke. “You’re my best friend, too.”

And then they were kissing. It tasted like salt from their tears and was more passionate and heart-wrenching than any of the kisses they’d had before. They were drowning, their only hope at salvation one another as they clung to each other with all the strength they had.

Azriel didn’t want to let her go. He knew once he did that it would be over. His month of bliss, of final contentment, would be over. Part of him wished Nesta had never opened her mouth, or that he’d been able to tell the truth, but all of him wished that he was someone else, or that he was more like his brothers, so that he was good enough for her.

When they finally stopped kissing, it was not so she could leave. They still clung to each other, breathing in each other’s scents, well into the night.

When she whispered goodbye, part of his soul left with her as she walked away.

He lied to her by staying silent. He should have told her the truth, that what he was feeling went deeper than affection, maybe even deeper than love. But this lie protected her, and he would take it to his grave.

[morkleemelon]

nct ideal types 2021 :: 127

dream version | the confirmed facts are all from various interviews or fan questions but ‘my thoughts’ may well not be accurate! this is just for fun~ mark and haechan are in the dream version

moon taeil

confirmed: someone cute with a short bob hairstyle

my thoughts:

taeil is a super chill, laid back guy who gets along with more outgoing members like johnny and haechan. this makes me believe he’d want a funny, outgoing partner to balance with his personality

he mentioned cute so this makes me think small or petite. definitely shorter than him.

he said once that he would love to sing to his future girlfriend all the time (she will be so lucky oh my gosh). not to mention he is very passionate about music and dropped out of a prestigious music school to join nct. so he would definitely need someone who likes and appreciates music

he said if he were a girl, he’d date yuta out of all of the 127 members. so perhaps he just thinks yuta is boyfriend material, but maybe taeil is attracted to the strong-minded, caring type

seo johnny

confirmed: someone who smiles at him a lot. similar to girl’s generation’s yoona

my thoughts: 

johnny seems to get along with everyone so this is a bit tricky to try to determine. he confirmed he likes yoona so going off of that, she’s obviously gorgeous and has a beautiful smile. her personality is also elegant, but down to earth and funny

he was voted by everyone including himself as the most romantic member. he says that he hopes one day he can build christmas trees with his wife just like he used to do with his mom (I’m so soft). I think he’s looking for someone who likes sappy romance and will flirt back with him

he’s tall. and since he named yoona as his ideal type, I think he’d prefer a taller girl (but not taller than him). then again, I’m not sure if he’d care all too much 

he said he would date doyoung if he were a girl so I think that entails someone easily tease-able, neat, and proper

lee taeyong

confirmed: someone who can teach him, lead him, and make up for his flaws. a girl with long hair of any race. laid back. his ideal type is the same as ten’s. someone hard-working has a tough style. 

my thoughts:

he’s highkey a weeb (don’t deny this). no matter how charismatic he is on stage, we all know he’s a big softie who likes bugs and frogs and anime. he expressed he had a really hard time coming out of his shell and he’s quite introverted. he needs someone who’s strong-minded and knows what they’re doing

I remember when the rookies just came out in like 2014 and TY was 19 (?) ish and he confirmed that he’d never dated anyone yet. nobody believed him because he was so handsome but I have a feeling he was telling the truth. it’s been several years since then so I’m not sure how things have changed, but I have a feeling he would like someone experienced.

“any race” what a king. looks-wise besides having long hair, I can envision someone with great style. perhaps dyed hair, multiple piercings, tattoos, the works. fashion is something that tae really appreciates

nakamoto yuta

confirmed: a girl with short hair and is around 15 cm shorter than him (so about 160cm aka 5′3″). an empathetic, cute girl who doesn’t ‘act pretty’. someone bright and comfortable

my thoughts:

he has a lot of confirmed facts about looks which are also really specific. maybe he just knows what he wants. but I also thinks he has experience. it seems like he wants a tomboy who has a strong vibe

he likes being the ‘oppa’ and taking care of others like we see him do with winwin, mark, and jungwoo. he’d be into someone who looks up to him and who he can lead

I don’t have a reason but I think he would like someone who laughs a lot and laughs at his jokes (maybe because mark does and he loves mark)

someone who’s not embarrassed to be herself

during oshiete japan they had to pick out of 4 types of roses to gift to their ‘girlfriend’. him and haechan were the only ones who chose to give 3 roses to their ‘girlfriend’. the psychologist analyzed this and said that they’re ‘flirts who seek attention’. so that being said, I think yuta would like someone who gives him a lot of attention and reactions

kim doyoung

confirmed: someone polite and who treats their elders well

my thoughts:

I mean this in all seriousness, someone the exact opposite as haechan. while we can see in rare times that he does care for him, doyoung usually cannot stand haechan and all his tricks and taunting. as his confirmed type outlines, doie is really looking for someone who takes things seriously and listens to him well

I think he often feels underappreciated - a lot of times during his mv viewing reactions, the editors show another member during his part or just cut him out and you can tell he’s really disappointed (it hurts my heart). he would really like someone who goes out of their way to make him feel appreciated. 

when nct 127 went on oshiete japan, doyoung was the only one to pick the potted rose and the psychologist there said that it means he isn’t looking to just date around, but rather to settle down and have a stable relationship. I strongly believe that doyoung is looking for someone long-term.

also, his love language is giving gifts (from my observation since he often gifts the members foods during mv shoots and gifted TY the couple ring). my best guess is that he’d want to spoil his partner a lot with gifts to show his feelings. someone who appreciates his gifts and understands that they come from his heart

he thinks ariana grande is hot so that’s the only visual thing I can think of. she’s obviously very gorgeous but she’s petite and has an amazing voice

jung jaehyun

confirmed: a kind woman with long, straight hair who can communicate well with him. someone dependable, healthy, and into sports. someone usually calm but can be cute. doesn’t care if she’s older or younger. someone similar to him. someone like singer/actress IU. 

my thoughts: 

he has a lot of confirmed facts so I don’t have to make many assumptions here. someone with girl next door energy? 

he says he likes IU, so going with that, someone petite and cute. She’s not afraid to speak her mind and treats everyone with kindness.

I think J was born to be romantic (literally, born on valentines day). he said his previous ambition was to be a teen dad and his lines from make a wish english version “spoil her with loyalty” sum up my next prediction: he wants someone like a best friend who’s in it for the long run

dong sicheng

confirmed: someone with long, black hair

my thoughts:

he said his favorite actress is shu qi. although I don’t know if he just likes her acting or if she actually fits his ideal type, she is a traditional chinese beauty which I think winwin appreciates

he’s really introverted and is often overwhelmed by affection (i.e. all of the nct members). the exception is jaehyun and winwin seems to be the most comfortable around him. this makes me think he wants someone calm and chic

sicheng prefers staying inside to going out. not to diagnose him at all, but I reckon he can get socially anxious around large amounts of people. he’d like a partner who doesn’t overwhelm him and understands him

he really can’t cook (he couldn’t turn on a stove to make an egg on winformation). in the end, it wouldn’t matter, but i’m thinking that if you can cook you’d certainly earn some bonus points with him. it’s like that saying ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’.

kim jungwoo

confirmed: n/a

my thoughts: 

of all the members, I think jungwoo has expressed the least about his ideal type. not to make any unnecessary assumptions (but that’s all this post is really), but someone said he has strong bi energy. I can’t say anything because I’m not bi myself and I’m not him, but I can see this being a thing. take this with a grain of salt because I don’t actually have evidence

during oshiete japan, he was the only one to pick the large bouquet of roses to give to his ‘lover’. the psychologist analyzed this as him liking to pretend that he is in love and wanting to show his good side. he “can’t express his real feelings and doesn’t want to ever show his lame side to his lover”. because of this, I strongly feel that jungwoo would need someone who lifts his confidence and reassures him

the members he gets along with the most are probably yuta and mark. their personalities are quite different but based on their similarities, I think he is attracted to confidence, open-mindedness, and good work ethic.

[strayinvelvet]

[what a fool in love]

Jisung thinks you couldn’t get any cuter when you have your cheeks all pink because of your tiny crush on him

pairing: han jisung x reader

genre: fluff, high school au, jisung is babo but cute

wc: 1.5k (this was supposed to be around 500 only but  got carried away)

warning: swear words, improper capitalization because i wrote this in tumblr drafts but just hit up my ask if this annoys you!

a/n: finally posting something after bouncing so many times! hopefully i can post consistently :(

Jisung thinks you couldn’t get any cuter when you have your cheeks flushed, especially when it’s because of him.

he has been observing you for months now and he notices. he notices how you would always stutter when you talk to him. you never do that when you talk to hyunjin or seungmin. he notices how your cheeks would turn a bright shade of pink when he calls you first. sometimes it would even reach your nose.

it’s not like he has been watching you. there was just this one time when he felt like eyes are on him. the bugging feeling was present for most of the day 'til he looked around and there you were, staring right at him. now jisung isn’t really one to boast, but he knows he’s one of the “handsome princes” of the school. he is not oblivious to the number of girls and boys that have a puppy to huge crush on him, thanks to the letters and free lunches he receives every once in a while. 

so from then on, he knows. you’ve been showing signs of your secret crush towards him and he finds it absolutely adorable. the silent yet friendly fella of the class who never finds a struggle in having a conversation with someone despite being a stranger to her, except with him. he wouldn’t say he doesn’t enjoy watching it. 

During lunch last time, when your friends abandoned you to go do their unfinished homework, you asked him, with the most shy and the most adorable look, if you can sit with him in his table. of course, the gentleman that he is, he let you sit. how could he let you possibly spend the whole lunch time looking for a seat? he swear he was only doing you a favor. well, he wouldn’t deny finding you stealing a few short glances at him amusing.

there was also this time when your biology teacher assigned the two of you to be “homework buddies.” it must have taken you a lot of courage to start the conversation. he would’ve pinched your cheeks that time if it weren’t for his self control: hey han jisung, she still hasn’t confessed to you. don’t make her uncomfortable. ah! and what was that you asked him? if he understand how the heart works? and then you went to full on nerd mode in explaining to him how it pumps blood and all the science-y stuff. how its beats depend on different factors, including external ones such as thoughts and feelings towards others. he’s pretty sure you were trying to convey something to him. dropping hints, i see. ahh, if only he could physically coo at you. 

now the reason why he enjoys your actions the most is your subtleness. he can tell that you have no plans to tell him how you feel, save for your natural reaction when you see him, unlike the others who basically throw themselves at him. he can see your efforts to not make the two of you uncomfortable. and all it told him was how considerate you are. you’ve probably noticed how the confessions annoy him sometimes, especially when it was given to him at a bad timing. like the person just wanted to let it out with no regards if he’s in the mood to hear it or not. but you, you have always checked on him silently before doing something. not until today.

your classmates have gone to their respective homes. he just finished practicing with the dance club and was just on his way to the school gates when you called his name hastily. you stopped speed-walking in front of him and took a deep breath as if you just ran out of air. you were holding a folded piece of paper in your hand- wait. piece of paper? is that a letter? a love letter?! oh no...

“hey jisung. i have something to say. actually it’s-”

“no! wait!” he hastily said to stop you.

 startled, you looked at him with a puzzled look, “hm..?”

no, you weren’t supposed to confess today. where did you get the sudden courage? is it from hyunjin? that man always encourage people to confess just to piss him off. tsk, that dick.

he looked at you with hesitation. are you nervous? he really didn’t want to leave you heart broken, tho.

he sighed, “how do i say this...” he gulped an imaginary lump in his throat before continuing, “ yn, you’re cute, i admit. but you see i’m not ready for a relationship yet. you’ve seen me turn down other confessions, i think, but i don’t want to do that to you because, well, you’re simply kind and... pure?” shit how do i really say this?

while he’s thinking of nice synonyms he can say instead as a replacement for what he’s about to say, you on the other hand, were left dumbfounded.

what is this guy on...?

when he finally seemed to quiet down, you didn’t even try to comprehend what he said (there’s no need to try honestly it’s impossible) before finally saying what you really needed to say. 

“jisung...” you paused for a while blinking at him, “i- i was gonna say ms. kim wants you in her office tomorrow during self-study hour. it’s about your biology grades,” you gave him the paper you were holding - his biology test marked with a big red, “you failed your preliminary quiz again and she’s afraid you’re going to fail the final quiz. she wanted me to say it because we’ve been partners for this subject.”

and then the most awkward silence ensued. not until he spoke with the most “huh?” tone.

“what?”

“Ms. Kim-”

“no wait i heard that. just... what?”

at this point you didn’t know what to say. your eyes travel from one point to another except to his eyes just because he’s clearly unfathomable right now.

“you weren’t-” he stopped to swallow the lump in his throat that now actually exists, “you weren’t going to confess?” he asked (with a bit of a hope that you actually were on the way to do so just to save him from humiliation).

however, he’s hopeless from his mess.

with a furrowed brows you finally answered, “no...? where’d you get that?”

well shit.

“i mean- don’t you like... have a crush on me?”

“where is this coming from?” you kind of dragged the where part because part of you hoped to understand where he’s coming from.

“you were all blushy with me!!” he is currently on his mission to prove that you liked him.

“when?!”

“last week! it even reached your nose and you were so cu-”

“han jisung! it’s winter! i had colds last week!”

“what about that time in the cafeteria when you were all shy?! and that time when you were explaining to me, OUT OF THE BLUE, about how liking someone makes your heart beat and stuff? or when i would catch your eyes on me?!”

“when were those even?! and you totally took that biology thing out of context!” you crossed your arms in front of your chest. you are so into this argument now.

the both of you went through this banter with your voices going higher the further the banter gets for as long as your memory (or jisung’s. he’s racking up his brain to save himself) could allow. however, as the banter got stretched, the more he realized that he really did misunderstand you and your adorable actions. by a lot. so when it finally donned him that he has such a thick face for thinking like that, plus assuming that you would confess, he finally kept quiet and let himself absorb the stupidity he has done.

for you, however, you find this whole strange exchange hilarious. normally, if it was other guys, you’d have slapped him across the street for assuming things. but it is han jisung. he never rubbed it on anyone’s faces that he has a lot of admirers. he never gets cocky about his popularity. he gets shy over small praises (he loves praises). he also managed to teach the whole class one lesson in calculus minutes before an exam just because his friends asked him to teach them a crash course, until the whole class joined their little tutorial.

“soo...” you tried to start.

“wait don’t talk anymore this is kinda embarrassing for me,” he closed his eyes shut as if he's trying to convince himself to wake up from this embarrassing nightmare.

you giggled, well isn't he adorably clumsy? he's weird but you'd just take it as another opportunity to gain a close friend. “do you still need help in biology? i kinda need help in calculus...”

“alright, let’s head down the diner” he answered immediately before walking straight forward without looking at you.

"jisung!” he stopped on his tracks but without looking at you. “it’s this way!" you pointed at the opposite direction of where he was going. he turned towards you and fast-walked in that direction until you told him to wait for you in which he slowed down his steps by tenfold until you were right beside him. still not letting your eyes meet. he’s that embarrassed.

little did you both know a close friend is not only thing you'd gain from this.

[secretobsessionstuff]

Blair's Night Out

Sober, they took an uber to the bar. The plan was to not be so sober on the ride home. Mateo and Shawn successfully went through with this plan. It was a different story for Blair and Dakota.

Sober and sick, Blair rode back with her head in Dakota’s lap, completely aware of every sensation unfortunately. She would have much preferred the blissful buzz from a few drinks, but she never got around to taking the first sip. Her churning stomach dragged her to the bathroom the moment the four of them arrived at the bar.

Dakota and Blair thought it would be fun to tag along with Mateo and Shawn whiled they checked out the newest bar in downtown Toronto. Dakota certainly thought it would help him feel more alive after one exhausting week of work. Blair too thought it would be a good idea to have a night out. She was wrong; it was not a good idea.

As soon as they sat down at their table, Blair excused herself with a hand on her middle. She felt bloated and sweaty in her dress, and so not in the mood for a fun night out. She had hoped that her stomach-ache from that day would go away in time. It didn’t. The nausea was still lurking around when the sun went down. Nonetheless, she joined her boyfriend and their friends because she told herself she could ignore it.

The plan to ignore the nausea went out the window when the loud music and the smell of booze hit her senses. She gave Dakota’s leg a squeeze under the table before going to the bathroom.

“Hey, wait.” Dakota grabbed her wrist before she could leave. For a moment Blair thought that he was about to make them leave. She thought for sure that he saw the way she wrapped her arms around her torso or the fact that she hadn’t said anything in a while. But then a foolishly large smile spread across his face. “You look really pretty, tonight.”

Not for long, Blair thought as the contents of her stomach sloshed around inside. She pressed her lips into a thin line. “Thanks.” Oh, Dakota was the sweetest, but sometimes he could be really oblivious. She thought about telling him, but she wanted to give her stomach one more chance to calm down.

She didn’t feel pretty as she stumbled her way to the bathroom. People must have thought she was already drunk. Ugh, the idea of drinking anything stronger than water made her want to retch.

As expected, the girls in the bathroom were unbelievably nice. They complimented Blair’s hair and dress, obviously not seeing the grey tincture to her skin or the sweat on her brow.

Blair stood in the stall instead of dropping to her knees like she wanted to. Maybe if she calmed down and didn’t give in to the feeling, then she could rejoin her friends in the bar. She took several deep breaths, amazed at how fast she felt worse. Minutes ago, she was only a little shaky, and now she was struggling to hold down her dinner.

Eventually she gave up this futile fight. She took off her shoes, knelt on the ground and allowed the saliva accumulating in her mouth to drip into the toilet bowl. An awful tasting burp escaped past her lips before she could swallow it. It made her gag. She moaned miserably, knowing what was about to happen.

Why did she have to get sick tonight? This was their opportunity to be fun again. She and Dakota had gotten so comfortable with each other that they never bothered with clubs and bars anymore. They were becoming an old married couple at the speed of light, and they weren’t even married yet. Compared to Mateo and Shawn, they were boring.

There was no more time to mope about this fact because the food in Blair’s stomach rushed up her throat. She held the disgusting toilet while the force of her heaves pushed her forward. In a stream of pale brown, the sick splattered in the bowl for all to hear. She kept going because she had no other choice.

A knock at the stall door startled Blair enough to give her a break. “Sweetie, are you alright in there?” It sounded like the girl who complimented her hair when she first came into the bathroom. Blair could only see her shoes under the door. They were nice shoes. “You must be a lightweight because it’s only 9’oclock.”

Blair groaned and spat into the toilet. “I’m a little sick.”

“I can hear that,” the girl said from the other side of the door. “The whole bathroom can hear that. Do you need me to get someone for you?”

Blair thought for a moment, trying not to look at the vomit in the toilet. Screw this, she wanted to go home to be boring and sick. “Yes, please.”

…

Dakota was almost excited at the prospect of being hit on. The woman walked right up to him. He thought he was going to have to turn her away. The ‘I have a girlfriend’ line was ready on his lips. This was why they came out in the first place: to feel like they were back in college. Dakota was probably a little too eager to break some hearts.

He did not expect the woman to start by saying: “Are you Dakota?”

Usually, the pretty girls at the bar didn’t know his name before talking to him. Usually, the pretty girls looked less worried than this one did. She wasn’t smiling or touching his arm. The unexpected turn of events made Dakota short-circuit. Somehow, he managed to stutter out, “Uh yeah?”

“Your girlfriend is puking her brains out. She should probably slow down.”

“Wait…What?” Did he hear that correctly? This woman must have been mistaken. Some other girl in this bar must have a boyfriend named Dakota. Still, he had to make sure because his girlfriend had been gone for a long time. “Are you talking about Blair?”

“I don’t know. Platinum blonde, blue dress…”

“Yes, yes, that’s her. She’s sick? But we just got here.”

“Then that was some pre-game because she’s asking for you. Are you coming or not?”

Of course, he was coming. He followed the woman as if it were a police escort. There was minimal protest from the other girls in the bathroom. Dakota would have gone in even if there were because he could hear how horrible Blair was feeling before stepping into the stall.

Before kneeling next to Blair, Dakota thanked the woman who helped them. When she and most of the other girls left, Dakota directed his attention to his poor girlfriend who was retching on the floor.

“Oh, Bee.” He put his hand on her back. “What happened?” She obviously wasn’t drunk.

“I don’t know,” she said after spitting a string of saliva into the toilet. “I thought it was just a stomach-ache, but I think I’m sick…Sorry.”

“No, that’s okay. Don’t be sorry.” Dakota rubbed big circles on her back. “You must have caught a stomach bug.”

There was nothing else to be said after that which was good because Blair felt her stomach rising in her throat once again. This next wave of vomiting was slightly better than the last now that she wasn’t alone. Dakota’s hand was cold on her bare back where the dress didn’t cover, but that didn’t matter. It was better than suffering alone and embarrassed. She burped up a mouthful of sick, watching it splatter into the water below. With each spasm, she moaned in pain.

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby,” Dakota said softly as he kept up the gentle rubbing. His go-to move of holding her hair back was not an option because someone had already given her a hair-tie to make a ponytail. The only thing left to do was hold her until she felt well enough leave. “I’ll get us an uber home,” he said, remembering how they got here in the first place. It certainly didn’t sound fun to be sick in a stranger’s car, but he had to get her home soon.

…

So, Blair rode back home with her head in Dakota’s lap. They sat in the backseat, hoping that the driver wouldn’t notice that Blair took off her seatbelt to lie down. Sitting up and watching the city lights go by in a blur wouldn’t help her situation at all. Besides, she liked the way Dakota played with her hair. It almost lulled her to sleep. 'Almost' was the key word because she never did fall asleep. Her sour stomach kept her awake.

Dakota could hear her belly gurgling. With his hand that wasn’t playing with her hair, he gently rubbed her middle. Oh, her stomach sounded so upset. He wished he could make it go away. She curled up tighter, bringing her legs closer to her chest. Her constant moans of pain were breaking Dakota’s heart.

“How are you doing, baby?” Dakota asked, knowing that the answer would be worse. He could feel the turmoil going on inside her belly.

In reality, Dakota didn’t get the exact answer that he was expecting. Instead of mumbling something about the pain, Blair simply groaned into his lap. He felt her body tremble. “Oh, Bee. What can I do? Do you want the window open?” The cold breeze would make Dakota freeze in the car, but it felt like Blair would benefit from being cooler. Her skin was already hot and clammy.

Blair squirmed out of discomfort. She didn’t want the window open. She needed to not be trapped in a car. “Make it stop,” she mumbled, too afraid to open her mouth very wide or lift her head out of Dakota lap.

“You know I would if I could.” Dakota traced his fingers along her bare legs. Only soft touches. “It’ll be better at home. You can change into pajamas, and I can get a pillow to put—”

A spasm went through Blair’s body just before she pushed herself up from Dakota’s lap. Another tremor rolled through her shoulders as she gagged into her hand. In between gags she managed to say, “No, make him stop.” And pointed to the driver.

That was when Blair lost the fight with her stomach. The vomit came pouring out between her fingers and dripped onto her boyfriend’s legs. She couldn’t move away fast enough. Even when she did lean over the seat, she was still vomiting all over someone else’s car.

“Oh God,” Dakota said, feeling trapped with no way to help. Trapped…and now damp. He awkwardly held her body while she heaved over the seats. “Pull over!” he called to the driver.

The car swerved as the driver was startled by the noise. “What the hell? You said you weren’t drunk.”

Dakota wanted to growl at this man. “She’s sick, asshole. Stop the car.”

When the car came to a stop by the curb, Dakota helped his girlfriend out. With a hand still over her mouth, she stumbled to the pavement and heaved up what was left in her stomach.

“I’ve got you,” Dakota said, literally holding her at the waist. He ignored the car as it drove away. They would get a better ride because Blair was in no shape to walk the rest of the way.

“Oh fuck,” Blair said while wiping her mouth with the back of her wrist. There was a pathetic splatter of puke on the sidewalk but a more impressive splatter on Dakota’s pants. “I tried to hold it. I really did. God, look at you, I’m sorry.”

Dakota did look down at the mess on his pants. It was only very gross, but he wouldn’t tell Blair that. She no doubt already knew. She was feeling gross herself. “Yeah, you got me pretty good, didn’t you?” He held her against his body as she started shivering in the night air. “We might have a hard time finding a ride now.” He forced a laugh to lighten the mood. “We look like two alcoholics wandering the streets.”

“Ugh, this is all my fault. I just want to go home.” Blair said as Dakota hugged her tighter against his side.

“We’ll have to become hobos or hitch-hikers.”

“I’m serious. I feel really bad.”

“I’m serious too,” Dakota said with a grin. “We’ll have to sleep under a bridge, and I’ll nurse you back to health with nothing but rainwater.”

Blair weakly hit his arm. “Okay you made your point. Call us a ride before the nausea comes back.”

“Fine.” Dakota kissed her on the head. “I’m sorry you feel so crummy.”

She waved her hand. “At least we’ll be the best dressed hobos in the neighbourhood.”

[ikeromantic]

Middle Ground

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic - approx. 2200 words. This scene occurs well after the events of the romantic epilogue. Fluff.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Bonding

“So . . . separate beds?” Mitsuhide’s wry smile was only a little bitter.

“Yes. I know it’s silly. I’d . . . I’d rather be in there with you.” The chatelaine, soon to be Lady Akechi, looked down, her expression a mixture of shame and defiance.

“It’s fine. I will have you all to myself soon enough. What is a night or two apart?”

She looked up without raising her head, trying to gauge his emotions.

Mitsuhide wasn’t having any of that. He took her chin between his finger and thumb and gently lifted until her gaze met his. “It is fine.” Then he leaned forward to brush a kiss across her cheek. With his lips almost close enough to touch her skin, he added. “Are you so eager to be in my arms again? Do you want to . . . test out the guest room? Or your childhood bed?”

He had the intended effect. She shivered and licked her lips. “You are so bad!”

“You are the one protesting our brief separation.” Mitsuhide pressed another kiss to her cheek and leaned back.

She crossed her arms. “You’re right. It’s just a few nights. But when we get back to the city -” a wicked smile turned her lips up at the corners, promising all sorts of fun.

“So forward, my little mouse. So eager. You make me wish we were home already.”

“That’s the idea.” She turned and threw him a saucy look. “Something to dream about.”

Mitsuhide chuckled. “Good night, little one.” Something to dream about indeed. He watched her hips as she walked down the hall, until she turned into her room and shut the door. She really had no idea what impact she had on him. He wondered if it was his practiced art of hiding his true emotion, or simply that she couldn’t see how beautiful she was. How desirable.

He went into the room and shut the door. It was so strange. The electronic hum of household devices. The cold fluorescent light from the street lamps in his window. Distant traffic sounds blending with barking dogs and strains of music. Mitsuhide felt suddenly very alone and very out of place.

Despite his refusal, the thought of spending one night, much less three, without his little one, felt impossible. A burden too heavy for him to bear. He needed to feel her in his arms, to fall asleep to the sound of her breathing, the beat of her heart. Her warmth grounded him in this strange place.

Mitsuhide gave a dry, soundless laugh. Who was the little mouse now?

Slowly, meditatively, he dressed for bed and lay down. He would embrace this world, different as it was from his own. He had to, because it was the one that gave birth to his beloved. And so, listening to the heartbeat of this small town, the viscous thrum of modern life, he drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Miyake and Sasuke arrived the following day at lunch. They met up at a local restaurant. Youko was friends with the owner and able to borrow a few tables in the back for privacy.

Minoru, the chatelaine’s often grumpy father, seemed to be on his best behavior. Not smiling, but distantly polite to the two newcomers. He thawed a little when his daughter threw her arms around each of the men in greeting.

No one said much as they ate. Youko and Minoru sat beside their daughter on one side of the table, glancing up at her strange friends. Sasuke, Mitsuhide and Miyake sat across from them, looking nervous.

It was Sasuke who finally broke the silence. He cleared his throat. “I understand your daughter told you about our time in the Sengoku. Understandably, you want proof. You have questions. We are here to give you what evidence we can.”

Minoru snorted. “What do you get out of this charade?” He gestured to Mitsuhide. “Is he paying you?”

Miyake looked as if he wanted to speak up, but Sasuke beat him to it. “No. I am here because your daughter is my friend.” He reached into his bag. “I know it isn’t much, but I brought my ninja kit as proof. These - these are smoke pellets. And that is a kunai. This is a sleeping poison, and this -” he went through the items, explaining what they were and how he made them. Detailed descriptions of the tools and materials he had available.

When Sasuke finished, Minoru looked thoughtful.

Youko smiled across as Sasuke. “You seem a very resourceful young man. And you are also the one that discovered these wormholes?”

“Yes ma’am.” Sasuke dipped his head, embarrassed by the compliment.

“It could just be you have a - a fascination with this stuff. Read a lot. Saw some movies,” Minoru said. His gruff voice held more than a hint of doubt. Even he didn’t buy his own explanation.

Sasuke nodded. “I could have. But even that would not yield the encyclopedic knowledge I’ve developed. I would go into greater detail, but I imagine you don’t have the underlying historical education to make use of most of the information I could provide. Unless . . . Are you a history buff?” His voice sounded different at the end, as if this question was important. Light glinted off his glasses, hiding his eyes. The air around him was charged, almost crackling with a sudden and unexpected energy.

“No. I can’t say I am,” Minoru replied.

“Hm, too bad.” The strange tension in the ninja disappeared as suddenly as it came.

Mitsuhide nudged Miyake. The warrior muttered something under his breath and then rolled his shoulders. “Alright, old man. I don’t blame you for doubting us. I’d think I was crazy too, or lying. But what Lady Akechi told you is true. She’s been living with my lord for the last few months. And it’s a good thing too. He smiles a lot more now. Eats too, and sleeps almost like a human.”

“Miyake,” Mitsuhide growled. “That’s not the kind of evidence they need to hear.”

“Sorry, but it’s the truth. And if you don’t mind me saying, well, even if you do, your daughter makes for one hell of a princess. She makes the servants happy to do a good job because she notices the little things. And the guards . . . they’d all die for her, and not just because Lord Akechi demands it. She’s kind and good to all of us. I don’t get to spend time at the castle, but I hear how she remembers birthdays and congratulates newlyweds and -”

Youko laughed, a sound Mitsuhide recognized. Much like his own little one, but matured. More elegance with just the same amount of joy. “It sounds like you have a following,” she smiled at her daughter.

The chatelaine blushed. “I really don’t. He’s exaggerating, mom. Really.”

“He is not,” Mitsuhide chided. “Though I don’t think that’s the kind of proof her father -”

Minoru interrupted, his gruff voice quieting the table. “It’s clear you’ve gotten to know her. My little girl.” He gave her a brief smile. “I am still . . . it’s a lot to take in. This wild story. But she stands by it and there is clearly - something true in it.”

His daughter hugged him. “I knew you’d come around, papa.”

He dislodged himself from her unexpected embrace. “I didn’t say I’m buying the whole story. Just,” he waved his hand, “some of it rings true.”

The tension at their table eased, and conversation began to flow more naturally. Youko and Minoru had a lot of questions, and were finally ready to hear the answers.

***

Kyubei followed Ranmaru through the thick forest undergrowth, barely able to make out the dirt path he led them down. This was supposed to lead to a safe house, one that Kennyo agreed to meet him in. He wished the demon-abbot had a taste for teahouses instead of abandoned forest shacks, but it could be worse.

He could be with Hideyoshi, hunting Motonari across the ports. Kyubei wasn’t afraid of pirates, but being on a boat . . . the constant roll of the ocean waves made him sick as a dog. No matter how many trips he made, he never gained any kind of tolerance for the motion. So this, the dirt and the bugs and the thick air under the trees, was a better deal all around.

“This is it.” Ranmaru stopped just before the path opened on a small clearing. There was a half-rotted shack ahead, once a shrine to some local deity, now fallen into disrepair.

Kyubei was surprised to see he wasn't’ the only one here to speak to the monk. Another familiar figure sat on the wooden steps outside the shrine. “Shingen?”

Takeda grinned up at him, pushing a lock of sweaty hair out of his face. “If it isn’t Mitsuhide’s maid!” He laughed. “Kidding, kidding! I just expected to see the kitsune out here himself.”

“He is otherwise engaged.”

“Is he?” Shingen’s smile was dangerous now. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with our missing ninja, would it?”

“If it does, I’ll send him your head,” Yukimura spoke up from somewhere to Kyubei’s left.

Ranmaru put his hands up, laughing as if this were all so silly. “It’s too early for threats. Come on! Let’s make some tea and relax. The abbot will be here shortly.”

Kyubei turned his head a fraction, just enough to see Yukimura lower his spear. “Tea would be good.” He ignored the younger warrior’s scowl as he followed Ranmaru to the shrine.

He didn’t sit, but stood near Takeda, resting his back against a tree.

Shingen, for his part, pretended to be fully relaxed. It wasn’t quite effective though. His brow held a waxy sheen, his eyes looked sunken and fevered. Worse, his breathing was labored. A rasp, harsh as a winter cough.

Kyubei watched him carefully. This was a bad situation. A dying man had fewer qualms than one that had to live with his decisions. He hadn’t realized Takeda was so bad off though, despite the reports he’d received. The Tiger of the Kai was legend. Not a man to be taken down by sickness. And yet.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Yukimura snapped, coming to stand beside his lord.

Shingen chuckled. “So protective, Yuki.” His laugh turned into a thick, unproductive cough. When he finally got control of himself, he directed his attention to Kyubei. “So. Where did your lord and my ninja go off to? And don’t tell me you don’t know. There’s too much tying their disappearance together. I’d rather not have to kill you today for lying to me.”

Another situation he wished he had his lord’s guidance. What information was safe to pass along, and what plans would the ripples of this conversation affect? Kyubei swallowed. “I suspect they have gone to visit the chatelaine’s home. 500 years in the future.”

Shingen nodded as if this was the answer he expected. “Sasuke asked me if I’d like to visit his hometown. He said - he said they could cure me.”

“And then he left without you.” Yukimura punched the shrine wall, causing the whole building to tremble.

Ranmaru poked his head out. “Hey! Careful or you’ll bring the whole thing down on my head!”

“Sorry,” Yukimura growled.

“If it is any consolation, I don’t believe Lord Akechi or Sarutobi left when they did intentionally. The information my lord left indicates the trip was meant to take place later. He was still . . . putting things in place for his extended absence.”

“That’s bull,” Yukimura grumbled, but he relaxed his grip on the spear.

They had no more time to talk it over as Kennyo’s shadow fell across the clearing. He came out of the trees like a spirit, the rings on his staff clinking. “It appears you found me. Again.”

Shingen grinned. “Well, old friend, I did have to hunt through every abandoned shrine in the province to get to this one.”

Kennyo snorted in disbelief.

“Ranmaru brought me,” Kyubei bowed. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

“I have little time or patience for guests. Tell me what you want.” Kennyo crossed his arms.

“Your help with the false emperor.” Kyubei didn’t look up from his bow. “We both know Ashikaga is dead. The scribe we set up in his place, or the men around him, have gone astray.”

“I could care less. Let the exiled shogun harass the devil-king. Nobunaga and his pawns can go to hell.” Kennyo’s eyes were dark and full of anger. It radiated from him like heat from a fire.

Shingen shrugged. “Yeah, sure. I hate him too. But it’s not just him getting hit. These idiot daimyos in his retinue are conscripting farmers. Villagers. Innocent folk that should be left out of a power grab.”

The demon abbot��s eyes fell on his old friend. “And you believe this is a worse fate than what the Oda have in store for them?”

“I do.” Shingen’s gaze didn’t waver.

Kennyo’s shoulders shook and it took Kyubei a moment to realize the abbot was laughing. He shook his head. “You always were a fool, Shingen. But fine. I will tell you what I know. I don’t think you can stop what has been set in motion.”

Next: Double Dating

[kallulovesu]

Weird scenerio, and based off an Miraculous Episode, how would Yandere!Nyotalia Allies react (separately) to being trapped in a giant soap bubble that’s floating in the sky, with their GN S/O that can’t get away from them?

It was all too humorous to America. Being trapped in one giant bubble in the sky with her beloved; the one person that she wished to be alone with for such a long time— and this specific wish of hers was granted just like that, in such a crazy way too! The girl almost thought that she could’ve been on drugs because of how desirable this whole situation was, and she just couldn’t bring herself to believe that she was this lucky.

Amelia wouldn’t really do anything for the first few hours or so of being here, just...sitting there and staring at you the whole time. Yes, she would love to have you in her arms, but this was completely okay as well. Looking at you made her feel a bit better about this strange situation, and reassured her that she’d at least have you by her side if anything went wrong.

Her stare wasn’t very...hidden, so she’d already expect you to feel a tad bit uncomfortable, but it was okay! It wasn’t like you could do anything about it; nothing could stop her up here, so why not suck it up and just deal with it instead? She could’ve done something much bolder with you, but decided to keep your feelings in mind and kept her distance, so just be a grateful lover and let her do this simple thing.

You wouldn’t want her to do something worse instead, would you?

It all ended up depending on your behavior. She was fine with doing nothing to you since Amelia already knew that she was to have you soon...so she shouldn’t be impatient! But disobedience should always be punished, she wouldn’t want you to act like this once finally taking you home. (Assuming that she’d find a way to get out of here)

England didn’t see anything wrong with this situation for the most part. She was used to such strange occurrences happening around her ever since being a young nation, though...she never expected her beloved to be dragged into this.

That didn’t mean that she disliked it— no, she certainly didn’t! This whole thing finally gave her the opportunity to do whatever she wanted with you, and all away from the public eye. So many things that she could do came up in mind, so many things that she would never be able to do in the outside world... you surely wouldn’t mind them, would you?

But there was also this bugging thought in the back of her mind; what if you didn’t consider her close enough for such intimate contact? Or what if you were one of these people that were uncomfortable by close touch? Alice is an over thinker, and this dilemma would only cause her to think of rasher, more...not so kind options that she could use. There was nothing restricting her inside of this space; not the law, not her fellow countries, and not even you. So why should she hold back?

Yes, you were hers after all. She shouldn’t even have to care about how you felt in the first place, but there was always a high chance of you being disobedient. She hated how she couldn’t just take you in her arms; holding you close without the worry of you struggling to get away from her. It was too much of a hassle.

That reminded her— England rummaged through one of her pockets, looking for one specific thing that she should’ve brought with her just in case and...oh, there it was! A small smile grew upon her face once pulling out exactly what she was looking for; a sleeping potion.

She could always use one of these if you were to act up.

France was vary of this whole thing. It certainly wasn’t normal to suddenly get trapped in some sort of bubble, even for a country such as herself.

She first thought that it could’ve been England playing a trick on her; perhaps the madwoman had finally snapped, deciding to give her some form of payback after all these years of their rivalry. The thought of that was funny, especially since this whole ‘revenge plan’ only worked in Francine’s favor. She finally managed to get some actual alone time with her darling, away from anyone else’s preying eyes and most importantly; able to do whatever she wanted with you.

...which was why she now sat next to you; her arm resting over your shoulder and pulling you close while sipping on a bottle of wine that she coincidentally seemed to have. (How she managed to have it in here? Who knew, the woman always seemed to have at least one drink on her.) Francine would talk away, rambling on about various things regarding either you or herself while slipping in some questions every now and then, especially the more personal ones that could be beneficial to her in the future. You thankfully didn’t seem to mind, most likely brushing it off as pointless chatter to pass time with.

Actually, nothing too bad seemed to happen with her. She didn’t do anything drastic— besides a few kisses on the cheek here and there, but even those didn’t seem to faze you much.

Francine just wanted to spend some nice, casual time with you; relaxing and taking your minds off your worries for once since...this could possibly be the last time she’ll get to see this side of you before carrying out her plan of kidnapping you. She was no fool, and understood that you would come to dislike her heavily once she did so, but it was for the better. You will learn to love her through it all, even if she had to hurt you for you to finally understand it.

Canada could best be compared to a kicked puppy; hiding in the furthest corner of the bubble while she merely stared at you, a sad gaze in her eyes while doing so.

Madeline wanted nothing more but to hug you close to her, to relish in your warmth and feel loved...but she feared the rejection she might face. She knew that she wasn’t very desirable— and that you must’ve wanted to be here with someone else right now, thus she tried doing you a favor by distancing herself.

But the Canadian still felt terrible despite that. You were so close to her, barely an arm’s reach away...was it that bad if she finally gave into her desires and tried something a bit risky? It might ruin the relationship she tried building up, but she could always just watch you from afar like always. Amelia also suggested just kidnapping you a while ago, so she could always try that if you were to reject her!

...it’s suffocating being with Russia, literally.

She just wouldn’t let you go from the moment the two of you have been trapped in this bubble. Her arms were encased around you like chains, holding you close while resting her chin on your shoulder in a manner that would be comfortable for her. Any form of protest would be dismissed; merely retorted with a soft, amused hum before further digging her face in the crook of your neck.

There were absolutely zero chances that she’d let you go. Not when she finally got to have you in her arms like this! You always seemed to be so afraid whenever she was around; trying to get away from her while shaking in your spot...and it hurt, you know? Anya couldn’t begin to count the many nights where she had almost cried herself to sleep while thinking about you, thinking about what she had done to make you so afraid of her. She hasn’t hurt you so far, no, she would never dare hurting the one she loved! So why were you so scared?

Oh, but no matter. All of that could be forgotten now that she finally had you where she wanted. You still seemed scared, but Anya allowed herself to relish in your presence despite that. She would never get to hold you like this in the outside world, with you easily being able to slip away from her grasp or others interfering.

It was a childish wish of hers; but Russia hoped to stay like this forever.

Oh, poor you. Remember when I said that being with Russia was suffocating? Yeah...I’m sorry, this one might be a bit worse to deal with.

China latched onto your form with her dear life; her arms almost squeezing the air out of you as she placed her face in the crook of your neck, soft yet audible sobs leaving her lips as she cried and sniffled. “Poor thing,” you’d think, softly rubbing and patting her back as she went on, trying to mutter some reassuring words that you hoped would help her calm down.

It felt like hours had passed since the two of you had landed in here— yet there seemed to be no sign of help coming by any time soon, and it scared you. What if no one ended up saving you? What if the two of you were going to stay here forever? You could only imagine how hopeless Chun-Yan felt, she seemed to be the one that was taking this the worst...

Which wasn’t the case, she was actually very pleased with this lol

Chun-Yan was basically fangirling on the inside; A red, prominent blush adorned her face as her heart thumped loudly at the feeling of you finally being so close to her. (she feared that you might’ve felt it, but she was too focused on this special moment for her to actually care!) It was rather hard to hide her excitement, with her almost letting the act slip a few times— though she seemed to manage. Yes she was old, but she still held the acting skills from her youth!

Really, she couldn’t imagine that being in a bubble of some sorts would’ve been the one thing that finally brought the two of you together. All she needed was to put on her ‘terrified old lady’ act to finally have you exactly where she wanted. Oh, she also found it amusing how you tried hiding your fear in hopes of making her feel better. It made her remember why she fell in love with you in the first place!

[tatestripedsweater]

Sinner

Plot: You were known as any mans dream, the innocent virgin girl that went to church on Sunday’s. It all changed once you met the boy who intended to destroy that innocence.

Warnings: Sexual Intercourse, Oral (Male Receiving), Blasphemy, Mentions of Physical Abuse, Not proof red properly

Teen!James x Teen!Fem!Reader

Word count: 2958

A/N: The names of his parents are solely made up since we don’t know anything about them

1913

Being the son of the priest within the local church he had learned when to speak and when not too, but the one thing he learned was not to treat a woman like his own father treated his mother. And due to this he started to shit on every word his father, Patrick, had told him from a very young age: ‘If a woman doesn’t do as she’s told a beating wouldn’t go a miss’.

James didn’t believe that to be true, in fact he was the one that got most of the beatings within the household because of him disagreeing with his fathers outlook on women. James saw them as delicate creatures, you were what could be compared to a flower blossoming, showing it’s true beauty to the world.

“Come here James” Not saying a word he let his mother do his tie once again, no matter how many times he did it she always saw something wrong with the way he tied it. It wasn’t in a horrible way either, Dorothy knew how her husband reacted if his family wasn’t looking their best at church.. or anywhere for that matter.

James almost choked at how tight she had done his tie, loosening it when she wasn’t looking he only smiled. He sometimes wondered what his mother saw in his father to marry him, was it his wealth? Probably.

“You know he doesn’t like it loose James..” Her soft voice was the only thing that spoke within the drawing room. Dorothy could only laugh slightly at her only child’s defiance, part of her worried for his life as well but she didn’t dare say a word against her husband. “You know.. there’s going to be plenty of girls at today’s service”

She spoke of this every time, being eighteen he should’ve already been married or at least courting a woman to do so. James wanted to marry, but on his own terms and not just some random girl his parents thought would suit him the best. He already knew who his mother and father had eyed him up to marry, James didn’t want to admit he found her beautiful as it would be following what his father was saying. He wasn’t a follower, James was a leader.

“Y/N is a lovely girl, comes from a wonderful family” James knew his mother meant well, she wanted her only boy.. only child to succeed in life. “Just try, please..?”

“I’ll speak with her after the service..” He couldn’t help but feel some satisfaction when he saw the smile grace his mother’s features, and with all that was said and done he wrapped his arm around her own before walking out of the family home together.

-

Sitting down near the back even though his father liked his family to be front and center, James couldn’t help but smile when he saw that you were sitting beside him. James could feel his mother’s eyes on him, she knew what he was up to without even asking. Dorothy could read her son like a book, she birthed the boy after all, but one thing she knew is that he wasn’t like his father and for that she thanked god.

You could smell the tobacco and cologne as soon as he sat down beside you, the thoughts that were going through your head were that of a whore so you refused to even make eye contact with him. James could tell you were hanging on to all the bullshit his father spoke off, just by the way you were dressed he could see that you were a good Christian girl, probably a virgin as well.

“It’s not polite to ignore the Priest’s son..” James hoped this would catch your attention and thankfully it did, gulping out of nerves your head turned to look over at him, both of your eyes meeting. “I’m James'' He decided to whisper so no one heard that the two of you were speaking at the same time as his fathers sermon.

“Y/N..” A soft smile landed on your face as you spoke to him, your voice was as soft as honey, almost like his favourite symphony. James could help but become aroused at the very sight of you, you weren’t doing anything promiscuous, in fact the innocent aura that surrounded you was the thing that made his cock harden in his slacks.

As the sermon went on, James’ thoughts only muted his fathers voice. All he could think about was your body, how you’d feel wrapped around his cock and the little whimpers that would escape as soon as he thrusted his cock inside your virgin cunt. James wasn’t a virgin himself, he lost it to some girl he couldn’t even remember the name of, she wasn’t important right now but you were. These thoughts were cut short when everyone stood up, some having started to leave. Had he really been day dreaming the entire time?

His mother looked at him from across the church and he knew what she was getting at, he had earlier promised to speak to you alone after the service was over. James didn’t know how his mother had convinced him to leave James alone in the place of worship, but James noticed a slight smirk on his fathers face as he walked past. Patrick must’ve thought that James was finally going to follow his instruction and marry a girl, but what James had planned was far from the truth.

He watched as you moved to sit at the very front, you looked up at a statue of The Lord as if you had some repenting to do. James wondered what you could’ve done that was so wrong, probably stepping on a bug because he couldn’t even imagine that you would do anything that was considered a sin. The only noise in the church were James’ footsteps as he walked closer to you, the rest of the town having left minutes before.

“You know, Jesus can’t save you” A shocked expression plastered over your face as soon as that left James’ mouth, you didn’t expect this and him of all people, the Priests son. “Whatever you have done, I can assure you he won’t save you.”

“What makes you say that..?” You didn’t dare look up at him, you kept your eyes on the statue that was half the size of the church walls. James didn’t know how to answer that question, well he did but the boy didn’t want to admit that he was weak at the hands of his father. He used to pray, every night in fact, that something or someone would come and take his father away.. that James would be saved from the countless beatings that were bestowed upon himself and his mother but alas.. nothing. So the praying stopped as did James’ belief at salvation.

“Just trust me dear” The small nickname wasn’t much, but it made your cheeks blush a bright red which didn’t go unnoticed by James. He could tell you weren’t used to much affection yourself, and he was right. Your parents were just as strict as his own but with the abuse, so if they knew you were alone with a boy even if it was the priest's father, there would be hell to pay when you got home.

“I-I should go..” Just as you stood up James moved so he was right in front of you, he was taller than you so the intimidation flowed through your body. “Please.. I should get home” Gasping softly, his hand gently placed itself on your cheek, you had never felt something so soft before.

“What did you do? What caused you to stay behind?” Your nervous demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by him, in fact James stepped even closer to you as he pulled his hand away. “Tell me..”

“I… I have these thoughts..” Gulping visibly you looked over at James just as he raised his eyebrow, urging you to go on. “S-sexual thoughts..” Just as that left your mouth a smirk landed itself on the boy's face, you out of everyone was the last person he expected to be thinking about getting fucked. Part of him was glad, you weren’t the sweet and innocent girl you made yourself out to be but the other part.. the other part wanted to punish you and fuck you until you were screaming like a banshee.

“Are they about me?” The bluntness of the question made you quickly look away from him, he wasn’t wrong and in fact whenever you touched yourself James was the one thought that always made you cum. You knew it was wrong, that lust was a sin and that you needed to beg for forgiveness.. but why did something that felt so good be so wrong?

Nodding slowly you couldn’t get any words out, afraid that you might spill too much truth if you did open your mouth. The next question that he asked had you blushing like a whore, in fact you even felt like one with the way you had reacted.

“Have you ever sucked a cock before?” Shaking your head slowly, James’ hand gripped onto your wrist and placed it upon the bulge that was forming in his slacks. “You feel that, that’s what you do to me Y/N! Now get on your knees and start praying!”

Pushing you down by your shoulders, your face came into contact with his crotch and you soon felt your cheeks heat up. You watched as his hands started to unbuckle his belt, his hands were big and the watch on his wrist only screamed that he was rich. Just as his belt came off his slacks soon fell to the floor once he unbuttoned them, you could see the outline off his cock in James’ briefs and the gulps down your throat didn’t go unnoticed by him.

“Pull them down” Your shaking hands gripped onto the tops of his briefs before doing as you were told, as soon as you pulled them down his cock made its presence known. Pre cum was already forming at the tip of his cock, and you soon felt yourself grow aroused the longer you stared at it. “Wrap your lips around my cock, you don’t want me to make you”

Your wet mouth wrapped around his cock and you had to be honest, the sensation and taste was odd, you didn’t know how to describe it. But the noise that came from James as soon as you started to suck his cock was enough to make your cunt went, the saltiness of his skin and the feeling of his hands moving into your hair had you whining against him.

“Take my cock!” A gagging noise was heard as soon as his cock hit the back of your throat, tears falling down your cheeks as he continued to assault your throat. Your hands moved up to dig into his hips as he practically fucked your mouth, not being used to this at all the gagging kept up as did the drool that fell from your lips and down onto his balls. “Good girl!”

He pulled your head away just to have a good look at you, your lips were swollen and eyes red from the tears. You half expected him to thrust back into your mouth, to finish what he had started but you were surprised when James pulled you back up to your feet.

“Look at you.. if only your parents could see you now” The thought of them walking back into the church had you gulp, the drool falling from your mouth was wiped by James’ handkerchief. “As much as I want to taste you, and trust me I do my dear, I want my cum inside you this second!”

Bending you over the podium, James couldn’t help but smirk at how he had you. Your dress riding up, showing your underwear as he bent you over the very place his father spew about all the bullshit and gods ‘plan’. The only plan that was in James’ mind was fucking you until you were screaming, he knew it would echo and he half hoped that people would hear the two off you. What were they going to do? Pry you apart with his cock still inside you? He doesn’t think so.

As soon as the cold air hit your cunt you knew he had pulled your underwear down, being bare behind a boy you rarely knew had you blushing. He was the priest's son.. so surely he knew what he was doing. The moment you felt his cock rub against your wet cunt was the moment a moan fell from your lips, the way he was grinding against your clit felt so good and you didn’t know why something like this would be considered a sin at all. You were in heaven.. but if this meant you would go to hell for having sex out of wedlock then they can throw you downstairs and lock up the key.

Leaning over you, his chest pressed against your own, James’ lips kissing your shoulder as he slowly slid his cock inside you. You had never felt a sensation like it, you were half expecting it to hurt with all the horror stories you heard but it didn’t. The only sensation you felt was fullness, being full of James’ cock. A grunt felt from your lips as he felt you wrap around him, you were made for his cock and he couldn’t wait to make you his.

“Darling..” Wrapping his arm around you to help you keep balanced against the podium, James’ hips started to thrust faster and the only noise in the church were both of your moans and his skin slapping against yours. You could feel his balls hitting your clit with each thrust and it only added to the sensation of being fucked, James continued to kiss and nip at your skin until he was happy he had left a bite mark. He was careful though, he left it on your back, making sure that no one would see and that he would be the only one who knew you to be such a harlot.

“Y-you feel so good..” The moans that fell from your lips bounced off the walls of the church, the podium shaking with each hard thrust that James had delivered to you. The both of you were in absolute pleasure and not anyone could stop it, James wouldn’t let anyone stop you both. He could feel how wet your cunt was getting with each thrust he delivered to you, the wet noises as he pounded into you was enough to emit a growl from his throat. He needed this, and he needed you.

“Mine!” James was a rather possessive boy, he liked owning things and right now he owned you. Moving one of his hands down, his finger made contact with your clit and rubbed it in circles with the rhythm of his thrusts, which seemed to be getting slipper by the second and he knew he was going to cum inside you any minute. But he wanted you to cum first, James wanted to hear you scream out his name.

Your legs started to turn to jelly the more pressure he applied to your clit, you were almost seeing stars and part of you felt like you were going to pass out right then and there. But you managed to hold off, your knuckles turned white as you gripped onto the sides of the podium before screaming loudly. James took pleasure in hearing this, it was like someone was getting murdered and fucked at the same time.

“That’s it! Cum for me!” Your cunt started to tighten around his cock like a vice, no matter how many women he fucked James couldn’t get used to the sensation of a woman coming undone underneath him. You looked like a goddess and honestly he wouldn’t be surprised if you actually were one, your cunt was leaking onto the wooden floors underneath you both and just the very sight of that had James fill you up with his seed. “Fuck!”

Gasping at the sensation, you didn’t actually expect him to finish inside you. You thought it was just some fantasy of his, but never thought he would actually go through with it due to the risk of pregnancy. “Shh.. take my cum, every last drop!”

James had you practically pinned between him and the podium, panting heavily against your shoulder you couldn’t help but think of the consequences of your actions. You were going to have to do some repenting after this otherwise you could see yourself meeting the man downstairs, your cheeks were flushed from the very thought of his cock still being inside you. His cum coated the insides of your cunt, James was surely going to impregnate you at this point and that meant you’d have to marry him.

Mrs March.. that sounded nice. You were pulled apart from your thoughts as he kissed your shoulder once again, where he had left the love bite as if to smooth you. James may have fucked you like a whore, and he may have treated you like one during the short time you spend together but you couldn’t help but wonder if there was a softer side to the man behind you. His hands caressed your hips and your question was answered almost instantly, you didn’t even need to ask him to know the answer.

“Marry me..” You weren’t surprised as he whispered that in your ear, James couldn’t help but smirk as your cheeks flushed red. “Marry me Miss Cortez..”

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Five. "You guys gossip about boys without me?"

warnings: swearing, mentions of emotional abusive/manipulation word count: 3.2k (not including pictures)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

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Y/n dropped her phone on the bed and slowly rolled off and onto the ground with a soft THUD. She grunted, falling harder than she expected but the dull pain now present in her right shoulder felt deserved somehow. Why did she think she deserved it? Maybe because she was an unconfrontational worm even when the person needed to be confronted because he hurt her more than anyone ever had.

She closed her eyes and wiggled to get comfortable on the thin carpet in her room. Laying on the ground was relaxing to her, forcing her gamer back to straighten to how it was intended. It helped her think, being on the floor. She didn't know why but she didn't question it. Just laid on the floor in acceptance with the dirt and forgotten candy wrappers.

Why didn't she want to respond to Peter? Well, years of being with him and even the months of not being with him had taught her that her ex liked to get his way and liked to take his anger out in her verbally when he didn't.

You could say she's heard some terrible things over very simple inconveniences.

Y/n slowly pattered to her desk and slid on her headphones, finding the discord server Dream said he and George were on. It was a server that a lot of their friends were in, one that Y/n hardly went in since she still hadn't met a lot of them and wasn't super comfortable with talking in it yet.

She scrolled through the various text chats, one for boredom, one for stream questions, one for memes, one for pictures of pets, one for.... discussing the inevitable takeover of rats...? Y/n wasn't sure what that was about but she knew she didn't want to find out. The list went on. She was pretty sure they had made a channel for every possible message someone could ever send.

There were equally as many voice channels, most of them titled with the names of different games for when they only played with each other and didn't stream. Some of them were just random names and she noticed there was one to match the rat takeover text channel. Okay, who was responsible for that?

After what felt like an entire scavenger hunt and with many new questions in her mind, Y/n finally found the voice channel Dream and George were in and clicked on it. It was called memerz-only.

"I'm not a memer, am I allowed in here?" she asked. She hadn't realized how messed up her voice was since she hadn't talked all day.

"Holy shit, Bug, you sound awful."

She scoffed a laugh. "Thanks, Dream. Really means a lot." She did sound pretty scuffed. Her voice was a little scratchy from not talking literally all day.

"You doing okay, Bugsy?" George asked kindly, to which she hummed.

“I just have one quick question...”

“Mhm?”

“This is simple, please don’t elaborate further. There’s a channel on this server... did you guys mean rat as in BadBoyHalo’s dog or rats as in rats?”

Neither of them spoke for a minute before George understood what she was referring to. “Oh! Rats as in rats.”

“Okay, thank you.” 

“Yeah, Quackity—“

“No!” she interupted. “No! I said I don’t wanna know. I really don’t. I’m too afraid to understand.”

“Wha- HA, okay.”

“Good choice, Bugsy. I wish I didn’t know what it’s about. It’s a lot weirder than you’d think.”

“Now that that’s settled,” Dream said with a laugh. “How are you doing, Bug?”

"Neither of you are streaming, right?" she asked, doubling checking the twitch app on her phone to be sure.

"No."

"So I don't have to pretend to be happy and bubbly?"

"No, you can be as mundane as you'd like," Dream said. "We don't mind."

"Yeah, honestly, most of the time when Dream and I are on calls alone it's just us being super boring and hardly talking."

"That's..." she paused to find the right words and decided with, "actually really cute. You guys just enjoy each other's presence."

George scoffed and Dream giggled. "See, even Bug says we're cute, Georgie! Why can you tell me you love me?"

"I'll leave right now if you don't stop," George threatened. "Can we go back to how Bugsy's miserable?"

"I'm not miserable, I just..." she hesitated. She had already told George about why she was having a bad day, but Dream?

She didn't want to tell Karl because she knew he would yell at her. She didn't want to tell Sapnap because she didn't trust him not to tell everyone (on accident, of course). For some reason, it was a different kind of hesitation than with the others that made her not want to tell Dream. She didn't want to tell him because she didn't want to be... embarrassed? Maybe that was it. She thought it would be embarrassing to tell Dream about how her ex-boyfriend treated her like shit and how now he wants to get back together with her. Plus, she knew how everyone else individually would react but Dream was a complete mystery. Maybe he'd yell at her too and say she's stupid for being affected by an ex. Maybe he'd break down crying for some reason? Who knows?

"You don't have to tell us," Dream stated. "Seriously."

"It's embarrassing," she said, tucking her feet beneath her on her seat. As she said the words, she decided they felt right. She was embarrassed. "But George already knows."

Above everyone else, Y/n was okay with telling George about her situation because he and her tended to talk about their troublesome relationships quite often. He always came to her for advice and she to him. They were very similar in their ways of thinking and seemed to have lots of similar dating stories, even if neither of them knew what the hell they were doing. She knew he'd never judge her for thinking unclearly since he tended to do the same.

George hummed, not knowing what to say since she hadn't said much. She could tell he didn't wanna say something that might make Dream more nosey and start hounding her about telling him.

"What hap—never mind. Not my business," Dream said quickly.

"No, I mean, I kinda wanted to talk to George about it again anyway so I guess you can join in on the gossip." Guess my mouth decided for me on this one, she thought.

"Wait, what? You guys gossip about boys without me?"

"Oh my gosh, don't say it like that, Dream," George groaned. "Bugsy and I talk about relationship problems a lot, yes. Not just boys."

"How did I not know this?"

"Because you don't know a lot of things?"

"It's normally George sending screenshots of text conversations with girls and asking me how to let them down gently," Y/n explained with a giggle.

"Or Y/n talking about her asshole ex."

"George! What do you and Karl not get about not calling him names?"

"I'm so lost," Dream mumbled.

Y/n sighed. "Okay, well," she cut herself off with a groan. "It's so embarrassing. Basically, my ex asked me to 'chat' this morning which is code for he wants to get back together—"

"Do you know that for sure?" Dream asked.

"Yeah, we already decided that," George snapped. "Let her finish."

"Sorry."

"So he wants to get back together and I feel stupid for wanting to listen to what he has to say."

"How is that embarrassing?"

"Because he hurt me and I feel like an idiot because him even suggesting that means he doesn't realize how badly he hurt me. It makes me feel like, I don't know, like all the time I spent being upset was for nothing," Y/n explained in a soft voice. "And because his simple, like, five word text made me freak out all day to the point of exhaustion."

"I don't think you should be embarrassed, Bugsy," George offered.

"Have either of you, uh, have you ever considered dating an ex?"

"Didn't you just say he hurt you badly?" Dream asked. "You aren't thinking of getting back with him, are you?"

"No... but I want to stay friends so maybe I should hear him out?"

"Well, I've never gotten back with an ex," he said bluntly. "But to be fair, all my relationships have ended badly or for bad reasons so I've never wanted to see any of them again. Staying friends depends on why you and he broke up, I guess, but..."

"Um, how do I put this..." she trailed off. "He was mean to me."

"Then no? Simple."

"But I've forgiven him and I think he's changed."

"People don't change that easily. Didn't you break up like, a few months ago?" George asked.

"Yeah, but—"

"Honestly I think if a guy was ever mean to you he doesn't deserve any more of your attention," Dream decided. "So, no. Don't even be his friend. Don't listen to a single thing he has to say."

"That's what I told her," George agreed.

"If that were the case, you guys shouldn't be friends," she argued. "You're mean to each other all the time."

"But we know it's a joke," George defended.

"So you're saying if someone is ever purposefully mean to you just once, you drop them forever?"

"Well, no," Dream said. "Not exactly. But it sounds like he was super mean to you since it's why you broke up."

She took a deep breath. She didn't want to go into detail. She was already uncomfortable enough talking about her personal life so much, but she trusted both of them and needed to get it off her chest and they were there and willing to listen. They had already established wanting to listen to her if she wanted to speak and right now, she wanted to speak. Maybe not the full story, but at least some. "He, um, well, the mean things he said, he said because he was trying to get me to see what he thought was the truth about myself."

Both of them were silent for a few moments. "I'm still confused," George admitted.

"Me too... But you don't have to tell us." Dream explained again. She thought it was sweet that they kept reassuring her that.

"I know, but I want to. If it's not too much for you guys..."

"No, go ahead, if you want."

"Uh, he lowkey emotionally manipulated me by telling me I wasn't good enough for anyone and stuff and how he was the only one who could ever love me. The second part he said truly believing that he was being romantic. There are a lot worse and specific things engraved in my brain but that's the gist of what he would tell me. He made me believe that I could never leave him because I could never be loved by anyone else. But he said it all in a way that... he thought he was just... letting me in on something no one else had the guts to tell me."

George gasped. "What?! Bugsy, I'm so sorry, I didn't know it was like that."

"Woah, what the hell? No. Absolutely not. Don't give this guy a second thought. Cut him off for good," Dream said sternly, angry that anyone would say that to anyone, especially to someone like Y/n. "Wait, so, you broke up with him?"

"Yeah. After Karl yelled at me a lot and explained his outside point of view, I finally realized Peter was gaslighting me and emotionally abusing me and stuff so I dumped him. I guess right now I'm just upset by it because I thought we were past this and I was healing and him reaching out affected me again. I'm just emotionally exhausted. Like I said, it hurts to know that he doesn't realize what he did to me."

"I'm really sorry, Bug," Dream said softly. "Gimme his address and I'll punch him for you."

She laughed through her nose. "That's okay. Thanks."

"Yeah, she can go set his house on fire if she wants. She's proven that already."

"Shut up, George," she said with a small laugh.

"Wh......at?" Dream stuttered and George briefly explained.

"Well, Bug, just so you know, in case you weren't aware, you're really cool and sweet and funny and we really like having you around–" Dream started.

"Oh, ugh, no don't do this," she tried to joke but he ignored her as he continued his speech.

"–and you're way too good to be hanging out with either of us, and whatever that asshole was showing you wasn't love. 'No one could love you like he did' because what he was doing was not love, it was abuse." Dream's voice had a certain gentleness to it as he spoke that comforted Y/n and made her believe him. He was blunt but it didn't stab her in the heart like it should have.

If Y/n ever cried, she might have just then from how sweet they were both being. But she didn't because that wasn't something she did. She never cried over anything Peter said, never cried during movies, and didn't cry then. But she did smile very fondly at the Discord screen in front of her.

"Thank you, Dream."

"You know I'm not good with words, but, yeah, what Dream said," George said. "I'm sorry you had to go through that thinking it was normal. Please, please, do not get back together with him and please don't be friends with him."

"He's fine as a friend though."

"Bug. Whether he's fine as a friend doesn't matter, he doesn't deserve to have you as a friend. He treated you like shit, it's okay to be a little cold to him."

She sighed. They were right. "Okay." There was a long pause before, "thanks, guys. Sorry for coming in here and dumping my problems on you—"

"Don't be sorry," George said. "We're the ones that asked you to come in and share. We knew what we signed up for and don't regret it."

"Seriously, Bug, we care about you. You're allowed to, you know, talk about yourself." How did he know that's what she meant by that sentence? The way he could read her mind was heart-warming.

"Also, George knows this but Dream, there's a strict no-telling policy about this kinda thing. Please don't tell anyone."

"I wouldn't even think of it," he promised. "My lips are sealed."

"Good."

A soft animal noise came from one of their mics and Y/n strained her ears to listen. "Was that a cat?"

"Patches has entered the chat," George joked.

Dream chuckled. "Yeah, my cat just jumped on my lap."

"Aw, you have a cat? Lemme see lemme see lemme see!" Y/n begged. "Partly because I would love if we could stop talking about my ex-boyfriend and the other part because I love cats."

"There's pictures of her in the pets channel on Discord—"

"No, no I want a picture of her on your lap. Is she all snuggled up?"

"Yeah, she is."

"PleASE, Dream. I need to see the snuggly cat."

"Fine, fine, if you insist. Give me a second."

A few moments later, she got a DM from Dream and smiled at the picture. His room was dark but the computer screen cast a cold glow over a ball of fur on a lap clad in sweatpants. "Awww, she's so cute."

"Dream, I wanna see it too," George whined. "Send it to the pets channel."

"I'm literally making this my lock screen," Y/n informed, making Dream laugh.

"No, George, it's only for Bug. She's had a bad day so she gets exclusive Patches content."

"What? That is so messed up."

"You know what's messed up, George?" Dream asked. "You never come to me with advice on how to reject girls. We're on the phone for 12 hours a day but you can't talk to me about girls? Do you know how that makes me feel?"

"You'll just make fun of me."

"Why would I? What makes you think that?"

"Because Sapnap and I make fun of you? So obviously you and him would make fun of me?" George said with a laugh.

"....that's fair."

Y/n locked her phone and clicked the home button to admire her new lock screen. "I love her," she whispered.

Dream and George both laughed. "I'm regretting sending you that. You're gonna, like, make a shrine or something."

"What would be wrong with that? She's precious. She deserves a shrine."

"Yeah, Dream, you're the one that feeds her gormet cooked food," George teased with a laugh. "You probably have a shrine."

"That's normal! That's what people feed their cats! That's completely normal!"

"I don't," George countered.

"Then what do you feed your cat?" Dream asked.

"I dunno, normal cat food?"

"Wait! You have a cat too??" Y/n asked. "I feel like we're missing a huge detail and it's that George never told me he had a cat."

"And a dog."

"WHAT? GEORGE! Send me pictures!!!!!"

"I can't right now, it's like three am. They're sleeping. Look in the pets channel."

"You're the worst," she grumbled, clicking and scrolling to find his pets. She saw a lot of cute pictures of other peoples pets along the way but couldn't find George's.

"Hey, do your animals have English accents?" Dream asked, making Y/n laugh.

"What?" George scoffed. "You're so stupid."

"How would that even sound?" Y/n asked.

"Like..." Dream thought, preparing to test out how it would hypothetically sound. "Meow," Dream meowed in his best accent, failing miserable.

"Oh gosh, never do that again," Y/n begged.

Dream laughed into his mic. "That was disgusting. George, I really hope your pets don't have accents."

"They're animals, so probably not. And if they did, it definitely wouldn't sound like whatever that was."

"Oh come on–"

"OH I FOUND THEM." Y/n announced as she found a message from George in the pets channel with the message 'heard we're sharing our pets'. "GEORGE. THEY'RE SO CUTE."

"Are you gonna make them your background picture now?" George asked.

"What, no way! It's Patches!" Dream scoffed.

"Yeah, I'll make George's pets my home screen. Oh, what a good day." As soon as she said it, a metal bowling ball fell to her stomach, reminding her of all the reasons it was, in fact, not a good day.

She got off after a while, feeling the weight of a particular idiot man's stupid simple text catch up with her again. She thanked Dream and George for letting her join, they invited her to always hang out with them, and she went on her way.

Y/n fell on her bed and curled up under the covers as her mind started to wander from Peter to Dream. She was really glad she met him. He was a really good person and he was always so incredibly kind to her. George and Sapnap and Karl were all great friends, so caring and understanding and always looking out for her, but Dream was different and she didn't know why.

Maybe it was because he seemed untouchable still, like he had no reason to hang out around someone like her. But he wasn't untouchable in the celebrity was since he had a large following, because all of her friends did and they didn't seem untouchable. Then what was it? What set him apart from, say, Karl? She trusted Karl with her life and had known him for quite a while. She knew Dream for maybe a few weeks and almost trusted him the same amount.

Why?

She picked her phone up off the bed and pulled up Twitter, deciding to DM Dream since he was already existing in her mind rent-free. Might as well make him pay his rent by bothering him.

*********

PREVIOUS | NEXT

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A/N: EEEEEEEE I hope that all made sense lmaaoooo basically yn ex = gaarrbbaaagggeeeee and ruined her self-worth a lot!! not poggers!!!!!!  THANK U GUYS FOR BEING SO SWEET ALL THE TIME ALL FOR ALL THE POSITIVE FEEDBACK ON ALL THE  CHAPTERS!!! I love seeing you guys make predictions and tell me how aljkDFB chapters make you feel bc same :/

taglist: OPEN (at the time) @hydrate-tion @loraleiix @tinaswagbd @charsdummb @smileyyuta @1ghoste1 @cerberus-hellhound @gaysludge @queestionmark @carnations-red @letsloveimagines @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @boiled-onionrings @a-cryptic @fee-btheweeb @letsloveimagines @erwinss @just-a-stan @axths @kayleigh2703 @furiouspockettoad @sometimeseverythingsucks @powerpuffyn​ @itshaileyn @millavalntyne @automaticcomputerpaper @nikkineeky @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @sprucekot @jabby16 @mae-musicbitch @hungoverhellhound @dreamyteam @kuroo-icedtea @stuffforreferences @menacingaesthetic @sapphic-soot @fangeekkk 

[ohnopoe]

Hiya there!!!! Could i maybe please have some headcanons about the characters you write for being in love with a very domestic/ cottagecore/ disney-princess-loving sweet girl who works at a daycare (with babies) ?

Im sorry if that didnt make much sense im french but i love your writing!!! Have an amazing day!! 😊

Your patience is extraordinary. I’m so sorry this took so long, and I’m additionally sorry that I couldn’t provide more characters for this. Between it beginning to feel repetitive and just having a mental block on it, which has been practically consuming my ability to write, I’m afraid I was only able to give you five characters, but hopefully the accidental mini stories they turned into makes up for that!

Under the cut you will find headcanons or miniature fics tbh for Din Djarin, Ezra, Frankie Morales, Javier Peña and Poe Dameron

Din Djarin

Looking after Grogu is Din’s priority. So, when he sees his adoptive son clinging to your leg after he leaves him at the small daycare on Nevarro, utterly enraptured in your every movement as you finish putting away the colourful pencils the children had been playing with, well, he’s intrigued.

When Grogu is reluctant to leave the planet, putting on a fuss as he flies away, well, he’s fascinated.

Plenty of people got along with the little green baby, and it seemed people fell for his big bug eyes everywhere they went. But he hadn’t seen the child so enraptured before… It was almost the same kind of adoration he seemed to throw towards Din.

Weeks pass before he’s landing back in Nevarro, ready to take on another job, and he’s almost forgotten about you. But the way Grogu perks up at the familiar surroundings is an instant reminder.

He hadn’t even intended to leave the kid at the daycare this time, it was only meant to be a short trip after all, but who could say ‘no’ to those pleading eyes?

The day’s half over when he knocks on the door. Children of all species are spread about the room, and there’s an air of chaos to the scene, but as you meet his gaze through that vizor that keeps him shielded from the rest of the room, he finally understands the absolute sense of calm you exude.

He’s frozen.

Your smile cuts through him, it’s gentle and soft and reassuring and everything he didn’t know he’d been missing for so many years now.

He stutters, genuinely stutters when he hands Grogu over, asking if he can spend the rest of the day with the other children. And if you notice, well, you’re not about to mention it just yet.

He’s making more trips to Nevarro, even he refuses to acknowledge why. The kid needs to socialise more, jobs from Karga are smarter, it’s good to keep in contact with the Cara, to know what the rebellion is up to… Excuses seem to pile up upon one another. Of course it couldn’t have anything to do with the fact that every time he sees your smile directed at him, every time he watches the way you play with Grogu, the world seems a little lighter.

A dangerous mission is what changes things.

He knows it’ll bring good credits, and provide more safety for the kid in the long run, but bringing him along for the ride is too risky, and it’s exactly what the enemy would be expecting. So he asks if you’ll look after him, just for a few days.

Of course, you’re more than happy to take the little green menace, but it’s the way you tell him to be careful, the way he can almost see genuine worry in your gaze as you utter words of care that he’s so damn unused to that has him struck once more.

The sight of you there, looking at him with such a gentle look, with his kid in your arms, well, it distracts him more than he’d care to admit.

So when he comes back to Nevarro, to your house of all things, he’s a little worse for wear, and he’s certainly not expecting the way you usher him in, or the way you look after him. Suddenly, leaving Nevarro at all seems like the stupidest decision possible, when you’re there in your humble house that still screams home more than anything he can remember.

He stays for days, you’re insistent that he heal properly and take the time to rest before he goes rushing back into the universe. And it’s the most relaxed he’s ever felt.

Ezra

After his time in The Green, Ezra is certain of one thing, he’s had enough of that damn colour.

There’s only so long you can spend surrounded by shades of green before it starts to haunt you, and even the most poetic of people lose any sense of beauty they once found in it.

But then there was you.

You, who lived a life so far removed from what he had experienced, that the flowery poetics seemed to just flow from him once more.

His insecurities after losing his arm seemed to lessen in your presence, caught up in the whirlwind that was you.

Laughter and joy seemed to fill the days, and sometimes he’d even help you with your work simply to enjoy the bubble of joy you seemed to exude, to embrace every moment of happiness that he was lucky enough to experience.

Colours seemed brighter, and filled with a range he had only hoped to see, when you were around. And those poems he had loved so dearly were not just a distant dream, they were tangible and real.

Softness and beauty coloured his days once more, and his heart was full.

Even green seemed more beautiful now.

Frankie Morales

In all honesty? He’s terrified. You’re his daughter’s daycare worker and it doesn’t matter that you make him smile, make those damn butterflies fill his chest in a way he hasn’t felt since he was an awkward teenager. It doesn’t matter that your smile is so damn captivating that it has him smiling goofily to himself the whole damn drive to work after he drops his daughter off with you.

It doesn’t matter because it can’t. He won’t interfere with your work and he certainly won’t be that creep who asks you out when you look after his daughter, no, nope, absolutely not.

But then, a year later, and his daughter is off to preschool, and yeah, ok, he’s a bit of a wreck as he shops for school supplies, but suddenly you’re there. It hasn’t been long at all, and yet he can’t help but think how much he has missed that smile.

It’s so much harder to explain to his little girl that, despite the chance encounter, you won’t be a part of her life anymore, especially when she’s so darn excited to see you, and so he stumbles, he struggles and glances to you for help and, well, the help you give has him even more lost for words.

You suggest lunch, on the first weekend after she’s started school. Just Frankie, her and you, all meeting at a park where his daughter can tell you all about ‘big school’.

He’s silent so long that you worry you’ve overstepped, and just as you’re about to ramble off some excuse in a desperate attempt to backtrack, he offers you the most beaming smile you’ve ever seen.

Well, your not so little crush was doomed, and so was your heart. But after lunch that soon turned into a weekly affair, you soon came to realise, your heart was in very safe hands.

Javier Peña

I’m not going to lie, at first Javier is skeptical to say the least. He’s seen chaos and pain and suffering for so long, that seeing someone so damn gentle? Yeah, he’s wondering what your game is. But then it becomes something else, it becomes a fascination. You seem sincere in your softness, and he finds himself smiling back at you in an instant, before he can even question it.

So, skepticism turns to curiosity. Are you just naive to the horrors of the world? Are you really that sheltered that you believe what the fairytales told you the world would be? He has to know, even if he’s cursing himself the whole damn way.

He’s spending more time with you to figure you out, that’s what he tells himself. Of course, it’s obvious to everyone else the change that you bring. His shoulders are less tense, he’s not bitting people’s heads off at work, hell, he’s smiling more.

It’s different to what he’s used to. It’s softer, and slower, and he’s reluctant as hell, but things just seem to happen.

You’re at his place as often as your own. You’re sharing movies with him that he’s never even considered seeing before, you’re sharing your lives with one another, and there hasn’t been a single date so far.

You’re everything he’s fighting to protect, before he can even acknowledge his own feelings for you. But as oblivious as Javier can be to these things, you’re not. You know the stories, the tales of love that seemed to pass him by. You’re patient as he navigates his way through his feelings.

It’s a random moment in time, really. You’re on his couch, talking about the children you work with, it’s just another day. But it’s everything to him. It’s the moment he realises you’re his all, that being right there, in that moment, listening to you talk about children you clearly adore, children that aren’t even your own, it’s all he’s ever needed, and all he ever wants.

The progression from that odd friendship to something more is surprisingly smooth.

Of course, he’s bound to stumble along the way, it’s so far from what he’s used to that he’s terrified half the time of stuffing up to a point of no return. But it’s genuine, it’s real, and you can both simply be yourselves; even if he does tease you a little about the ‘childish’ decor that starts to fill the apartment when you finally move in.

Poe Dameron

It was an accident, the first time Poe quite literally ran into you. BB-8 assured him that it would be faster to get to his ship through the path he had never ventured before as he rushed to fly out for a sudden mission, and he was right. What the little droid had failed to mention, however, was that said path ran directly through the resistance’s schooling area.

It was a small group of rooms, with few children of resistance members actually living on base, but it was something so downright shocking that it had him stumbling in shock as he glanced about at the colourful finger paintings and bright array of plants that he didn’t even notice the way the group of preschoolers stared up at him in awe, or, for that matter, the fact that you were standing before him... until you weren’t. The force of his sprint landed you on the floor with nothing but a surprised “ooft!” coming from your lips, and an echoing round of shocked and anxious gasps from your students.

After an awkward round of apologising, and continuing to call out long after he had checked you were alright and helped you up, he was off, making his way once more, the sound of “sorry!” fading away as he drifted further down the corridors.

One chance meeting suddenly turned into more. It seemed wherever he turned, there you were. Grabbing a late meal at the same time, having your med-checks one after the other… it was as if fate itself had decided the two of you simply had to interact.

You filled his mind, someone so normal amongst the chaos of war. And while he may not have realised it, he began to seek you out.

Chatting with your kids about flying, bringing back interesting plants he saw on his adventures, there was always a reason to see you, after-all, Poe Dameron was the King of Excuses.

But you brought him a sense of hope and home, something he had missed for far too long, and he wasn’t about to give that up anytime soon.

[storiesforallfandoms]

fatherhood ~ zac efron

word count: 1519

request?: yes!

@kellysimagines​ “Can you make one where the reader and zac have been together for 13 years (since Hairspray) and the reader is a youtuber and they have a daughter who is 8 months old and the reader asks him questiones about him being a dad and stuff with the baby with us and we also answer fab questions on how we keep our relationship so good after so many years and stuff? :)”

description: in which they decide to do a q&a about their relationship and parenthood

pairing: zac efron x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

“Wanna go to mama?” Zac asked as he held our eight month old towards me. She thought for a moment before pulling away, cuddling close to her father.

“I’ll remember this,” I told her, playfully narrowing my eyes at her.

I adjusted my camera to make sure it was perfect one last time before finally hitting the record button.

“Hey everyone!” I greeted the camera. “It’s (Y/N) and, back by popular demand, we have Zac!”

Zac smiled and waved at the camera. “Hey everyone.”

“And today we are also joined by the most adorable girl in the whole world, Dani Efron.” I looked over to see Dani was more interested in her socks than the filming. “You guys have been asking for a Q&A with Zac and I about parenthood, so I decided it was time to give you what you’ve been asking for.”

Dani squealed to herself before reaching for one of her toys on the floor. Zac bent over to pick it up and pass it to her. She smiled excitedly and began to play with it.

“I asked you guys to tweet me your questions regarding Dani, the pregnancy, the birth - but nothing too r rated - and about myself and Zac. I picked a couple, and now here we go,” I continued to explain.

I picked up my phone and opened the first question. “Okay, question number one says, Pretty cliché question here, but what was your guys’ first reactions when (Y/N) found out she was pregnant?”

“Shock,” Zac answered first. He began to laugh once he said it. “I know that’s also cliché, but it’s the truth. You told me you were pregnant and I remember just like...not knowing what to do.”

“I really wish I filmed your reaction now, but I was afraid it wouldn’t go well,” I admitted.

Zac and I had been together for nearly 13 years when I found out I was pregnant. Neither one of us had talked about marriage and kids seriously at the time, we were both comfortable with where we were in the relationship. We had talked about eventually wanting kids, but we were both still young and still focused on our careers.

I took a pregnancy test shortly after the second period I missed. When it came back positive, I went to the doctor to make sure and sure enough, it came back positive as well. I was so scared to tell Zac because I wasn’t sure what his reaction would be. I didn’t think he’d be mad, but what if he wasn’t ready? Was I even ready?

He was shocked, as he had said. At first I thought he was going to pass out. I didn’t think he was even breathing. The longer it took for him to respond, the more anxious I got. When he finally spoke, my heart began to flutter.

“Holy fuck, I’m gonna be a dad!”

He had lifted me into his arms and held me tightly, happy tears running down his face. I kissed him for so long after that, and we were just happy.

“I was pretty shocked as well, but I had an idea that I was because I had missed two periods,” I responded. “I had myself convinced it was like a medial reason, though. I was so sure I wasn’t pregnant.”

“I suppose it was about time for us to have a kid, we have been together for years.”

Dani threw her toy onto the floor and immediately exclaimed. Zac chuckled and placed her on the floor, letting her crawl around after her toys.

“The next question is, What was it like being pregnant?”

“That’s a question for you,” Zac laughed.

“I’m aware,” I said and playfully stuck my tongue out at him. “At first it was basically just like having a persistent stomach bug, but once Dani actually started growing it felt...just weird. It was like this constant reminder that there was something inside of me growing. And when she’d start to move and was like...baby size if not getting to be baby size, it was this weird realization that she was actually there. That she actually existed. It was all just this weird sensation in general.”

“You went through so much while you were pregnant,” Zac admitted. “I will never be able to say I’m tough ever again cause I am no way tougher than what you went through.”

I couldn’t help but blush at this. I had been hearing this praise for over a year, but I would never get tired of hearing the compliments.

“Ah, I expected this one,” I said as I looked at the next question on my phone. “Is marriage next for you guys?”

I looked over at Zac. I quickly took in his appearance to make sure I wasn’t about to get a surprise engagement. I loved Zac, and of course I’d say yes, but I wasn’t ready to be proposed to while filming a video.

Noticing my look, Zac merely chuckled and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. “I’m not gonna propose right now. When I do it, it’s going to be private and intimate. No one will even know it’ll have happened until after we’re married.”

I couldn’t help but smile brightly at his response. “I like that idea.”

Zac held his hand out towards my phone. “Let me pick the next question.”

I passed it to him and he scrolled through the list of questions I had saved. “Oh, I like this one: Did you guys have any other names picked out for Dani? What were they?”

“Well, we decided not to find out her gender until after she was born,” I explained, “so we had many almost names picked out for her.”

“I was adamant on Josh, just because I liked that name a lot,” Zac said. “And Theodor, I thought that was a cute and proper name.”

“I vetoed Theodor because the last thing we needed was people making jokes about us naming our kid Ted, for obvious reasons,” I said, playfully nudging Zac. “I tried to convince him to choose Troy instead.”

“I vetoed that one immediately.”

“As for girls, the only other name we had besides Danielle was Isabelle, but that’s because I’m obsessed with the Mortal Instruments series and Izzy is my favorite character. When she was born, though, we just knew she was a Dani.”

At the sound of her name, Dani looked up at us from the floor as she sucked on her toy. I couldn’t help but smile at my baby girl before quickly sweeping her up in my arms and placing kisses all over her face. She squealed in response, but I could hear the giggles in between them.

Dani stayed up in my arms through the next few questions before getting bored and wanting to play on the floor again. Zac and I decided to wrap it up after one last question.

“I think we’ll leave that there,” I said into the camera. “Thank you guys so much for watching. If you liked this video, give it a thumbs up and maybe I’ll do another Q&A some time in the future. Hit the subscribe button if you haven’t already, and if you have make sure you turn on notifications so you know every time I post. See you guys next week!”

I covered the camera with my hand before turning it off, my usual outro. Once I had the camera off, Zac stood from his chair and stretched his arms out.

“I don’t know how you film these videos,” he commented. “My body feels so cramped up right now.”

“I think I’ve just gotten used to it,” I responded as I stretched my legs out.

Zac picked Dani up in his arms and began to playfully rock her. “I got to talk about my favorite girl, so I’d have to say the cramped up body is definitely well worth it.”

Dani smiled, her single tooth slightly visible from behind her little lips. Zac kissed her cheek as he walked around our house with her, Dani more than content with being in her father’s arms.

I couldn’t help but smile to myself at my little family. I loved Zac more than words could ever say, and I didn’t think that love could get any stronger until the day I saw him holding our beautiful baby girl for the first time. He had been there for me through the entire pregnancy, and had been such a great father towards Dani. I couldn’t have asked for a better life partner than him.

Noticing my starring, Zac raised an eyebrow at me. “What?”

“Nothing,” I responded with a shrug. “I love you is all.”

He smiled back at me and responded, “I love you, too.” In a higher pitched voice, he moved Dani in front of his face and added, “And I love you, too, mommy.”

I giggled before standing from my chair. I walked over to the two and kissed Dani’s chubby cheeks before kissing Zac more sweetly on the lips.