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watermelonsugacry · 2 years ago

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Harry pulling y/n on stage with him to honour her with his AOTY award!!!!!!😭😭😭😭🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

#myheartwillburst

GRAMMYS 2023

A/N: student teaching and uni work are really giving it to me so thank you all for being patient with me! 💚

SUMMARY: Highlights from the first award show that YN and Harry attend as a married couple.

GENRE: 1dbandmember!yn, married ynrry

SINCE 2010 masterlist

As soon as Harry steps off his side of the Range Rover, he’s immediately extending his hand out to his wife. A loving smirk graces his face at the fact that over her pink embellished gloves, YN wears her wedding ring on her finger. This is the couple’s first major outing since they announced their new martial status online and being at the 65th Annual Grammy Awards only added to the excitement of the night. They’re easily the most anticipated guests of the night; it’s no question since every social media site and news article has named them the couple of the century.

As usual, the couple first needs to take a couple pictures on the red carpet as individuals for promotal purposes before they can take some together.

As they both take their stances at the red carpet, out of the corner of his eye, Harry can see how elegantly she poses for the screaming crowd of men in front of her. She smoothly shifts her head around the flashing lights with a smile that can make anyone’s knees weak. It’s difficult to not even spare a glance at her direction and in turn, YN can’t even hide the way she gives her husband loving looks. He looks absolutely amazing in his pastel patterned jumpsuit, possibly showing off more skin than she is but it’s not like anyone is complaining.

When it’s their time to shift over a spot, YN playfully makes a shooing motion with her hands as he just stays there standing, full on gawking at her. He just shakes his head and pulls her to him and the blinding, flashing lights only increase as they capture the happy couple looking at one another like love-sick teenagers.

“Wait, then lemme stand on your left.”

“Why?” Harry questions as his love shuffles over to his other side, but a boyish smile overtakes his face at her response.

“So I can show off me ring.”

She says it so nonchalantly before placing her hand on his tummy but her words cause such an impact for him. While she looks back towards the paparazzi, he just continues to stare at her that one can practically see the hearts in his eyes. For a good chunk of his life, he’s dreamed of a moment like this: just him and YN on the red carpet, head-over heels in love with each other, and their relationship out in the open. And they’re not here as bandmates, secret lovers, or any of that—they’re here married. Seeing the way her wedding ring sparkles from the flashing lights before them, he could almost cry from how happy he is.

He can’t believe that this is his reality. So instead of questioning it further, of reminiscing in his daydream, he tugs her closer to his side and basks in this stomach flipping, butterfly-flapping feeling.

...

“Oi, I know you!” YN beams at the curly haired photographer who did her Glambot for the past Grammy shows she’s attended.

“I know you,” Cole Walliser teases back as he watches the couple take the short steps up to the platform.

“V’brought a friend this time around,” She jokes and huffs out a laugh when she sees her husband’s dramatic, confused face.

“Friend?”

“Alright, do you guys have any idea on what you both want to do? I think we need this one to be you two together.”

“We can do like, a serious pose that turns into a silly one?” YN suggests.

“I love that idea! Alright, let’s do it,” The photographer claps his hand. “Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Styles.”

Harry brings YN over to stand closer beside him on the designated mark. With her back angled towards the camera, he places a hand on her exposed lower back while she places hers right where the fabric over his tummy ends.

“Hear that, Mrs. Styles,” Harry says lowly in her ear, making her smile. “Friend my ass.”

“Alright, 3...2...1!”

As the camera moves quickly in front of them, the couple share the same ‘I own you’ face that their fans can’t get enough of. After a quick second, Harry breaks out into his dimply, open-mouth smile and his infamous peace sign. YN widely sticks her tongue out with her right eye scrunched closed.

...

“May the best man win,” Harry extends his hand out to her with a smirk.

“Or woman,” His wife gives him a sly smirk of her own as she takes his hand in hers. She can’t help but give him a fond smile when he brings her hand to his mouth to place a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

The couple’s nominations are mainly in the same categories. While they joke and jest about how they’re no winner or loosers, another part of them knows that their egos are just too big to not let their competitive sides simmer off to the side.

Even then, as they announce that Harry’s House is the winner for Best Pop Album, nothing but pride and happiness overtakes YN for the man next to her. She’s practically a blubbering mess as she watches Harry take his second Grammy to add onto his shelf.

“Making the album from start to finish has been the greatest experience of my life...aside from getting married, of course,” He huffs out a laugh while looking at his wife. The ceremony cameras turn to YN in between Lizzo and Adele. The two other women laugh and squeeze her a little tighter as she wipes away at the happy tears.

“YN should be up here with me like I asked her to but she insisted that she was the competition so,” He teases as the audience chuckles. In all honesty, when he asked if she could come up with there with him if he were to win any of his categories, she told him that it’s his win, not hers. While she played a major part in making his music, she’d rather have all the attention, all the love, and all the cheering be for him. “From making it with two of my best friends and my YN to playing it to people has been the greatest joy I could have asked for...”

...

“Dare,” YN ultimately decides with a challenging raise of her eyebrow and a tempting smile.

As exciting as these awards shows can be, there are loads of downtime in between commercial breaks or stage performance set ups or even when the host begins to interact with one of the other celebrities in the audience.

As a way to pass the time—and to help calm down their nerves for their upcoming categories—the couple has decided to play an innocent game of Truth or Dare. Well...as innocent as a game can get with the size of their egos. So far, Harry has been dared to cuss in his next acceptance speech, YN has admitted to running off to talk with Cardi B backstage instead of coming to be seated with Harry right away, and Harry revealed that had a wedgie the entire red carpet.

“I dare you to...” Her husband pinches at his bottom lip while his eyes scan the room. She eagerly watches as he looks to somewhere behind her and a dimpled smile overtakes his face. A giggle tumbles past his lips before he says, “I dare yeh to go over to Bad Bunny and ask him if the fruit on the table is real.”

“Hmm...okay.”

Harry tries to cover up his laugh with a cough to his fist as he watches his wife get up from her chair next to him and makes her way over to Bad Bunny. The famous Latin artist is immediately getting up from his seat and greeting her with welcoming arms.

“Hey, you,” YN says in Spanish. “How are you?”

“I’m doing amazing, my love. And you? You look absolutely stunning.”

“Thank you. I’m good, I’m good. Your performance earlier was absolutely amazing.”

It’s true, when he took the stage for the opening of the ceremony, she was already on her feet and moving her hips to the upbeat music. She even pulled Harry out of his seat, held onto both of his hands as she guided him to the beat of the song. She’d be lying if she said that he wasn’t getting better at dancing—this becomes more and more apparent every show on tour he does.

Benito puts a hand over his heart with a shrug, “Thank you, I try. That’s an honor coming from you.”

“You’re too sweet. Hey listen, can I ask you something?”

“Anything you want.”

“So...are we allowed to eat those?” She nods towards the array of delicately sliced and decorated fruits scattered around the center of the small table. “Like are they even real?”

“I think so, my love,” He nods reassuringly with a furrow of his eyebrows, clearly confused by her question but he doesn’t want to come off as rude.

“Cause I’m starving, man, but I don’t want to get in trouble or anything.”

When Bad Bunny leans over the table to get a better look at the fruit, YN playfully widens her eyes at her husband a little bit away, a smile threatening to break out on her lips before she regains her composure once the artist stands upright again.

“Here you go, mama.” YN coos and cups her hands as he hands her slices of cucumber. He takes a thin slice and pops one in his mouth, “They’re all good, sweetheart.”

“Aw, thank you so much. I love you,” She leans closer to him and plants a kiss on both of his cheeks. It’s an odd experience for Harry to feel only a flicker of jealousy at the sight of his love and another man because despite his possessiveness, seeing her walk back over to him, pushing a cucumber slice past her cheeky lips with her wedding ring shining under the roaming lights is enough to dose the same flame.

“If the camera happens to pan over to us, I dare yeh to just dead stare at the camera.”

“Want one? They’re real,” His wife teases before the speakers announce that they’ll be live in 10 seconds. As Trevor begins to prepare to speak with one of the cameramen in front of him, YN leans over to Harry and whispers in his ear, “Truth or Dare?”

His brows pinch together for a second, really seeing if she wanted to continue their little game despite the show starting up again. One look at her tempting smile is all the confirmation he needed, “Dare.”

“And we’re on in three...two...one...”

“Truth or dar—”

“Dare,” A cheeky smirk tugs on his wife’s lips.

“I dare you to do it with me.”

Soon enough, Twitter and every other social media site blows up with people recording the bottom corner of their TV screens to capture how the newlyweds just stare at the camera with a furrow in their brows for an unsettling amount of time.

...

“I have the very special honor of introducing this next performer. I’ve known this man since we were merely sixteen years old and it’s taken him 12 years to finally put a ring on it,” YN smiles and takes a second to let the audience members have their laugh. “This man has made a tremendous impact on me life and to the lives of many others through his heart-touching music to promoting how the world can be a better place if we all show each other just a little bit of kindness. Harry, you are an inspiration to so many people and just know that your kindness does not go unnoticed. Ladies and gentlemen, please give it up for my husband, Mister Harry Styles!”

...

“Harry and YN YL-Styles are here tonight, everybody!” The camera captures the way the couple sits happily together. Harry has his right hand securely and protectively resting on YN’s knee. After giving a brief wave to the camera, he secretly boasts when she places her left hand on his to show off the rock on her finger.

“That's right. I mean what can you say about these two that hasn’t been said? Incredible albums, mind-blowing tours, both men and women alike throw their pants at these guys!” Thankful for their media training, they huff out a dry laugh making it seem like a genuine one. It was a silly thought to assume that the host wasn’t going to make a jab at the couple given the way he’s been cracking jokes all evening.

“Easily the world’s sexiest couple. There’s no competition. Sex symbols of the globe. Especially now since they killed off the Green M&M. Give it up for the newlyweds! Congratulations to you both. Come on, another round of applause for these guys!”

The couple give him a polite nod of gratitude and once the cameras and Trevor walk away, Lizzo leans over to them and lets them see the dramatic roll of her eyes. They chuckle at their friend’s reaction and are eternally grateful for her acknowledging the inappropriate comment. Not like the comment like that was new to them, they’ve been receiving that type of commentary ever since they were sixteen years old. One could say that it’s part of the job, of the industry they decided to enter into, but it’s 2023 now. One would think that those comments would be dead at this point. Clearly, it’s not.

“Just to ease all the gears turning in yeh head,” YN leans close to her husband’s attempt to disclose his irrated face (an outsider would assume that nothing’s wrong but she can tell). “I think you were sexy way before they killed off the Green M&M.”

“Fuck off,” Harry huffs out a laugh and it ignites one from her. His one distraught expression is replaced with his eyes squeezing shut, his dimples digging into his cheeks and his nose scrunching up cutely.

...

(performance audio!)

“65th Grammys!” YN’s sweet voice rings throughout the arena. She stands at the center of a grand staircase in her minimal and revealing outfit with a crowd of background dancers around her. “Let’s go! Whoo! You might think I’m crazy, the way I’ve been craving, if I put it quite plainly, just gimme them babies...”

The cameramen are able to capture the way a sea of celebrities are all on their feet as they watch YN perform: Lizzo and Adele dance with their hands in the air as they sing along to 34+35, Taylor Swift bounces to the beat of the song with a content smile, Beyonce claps along and mouths along to the lyrics.

And of course, the camera never fails to record how Harry holds a fond dimpled smile as he watches his wife take the stage. All he can think of when he watches her is how good of a performer she is. As nervous as she was to perform at this prestigious award show, she’s absolutely killing it, treating this with the same about of love and passion as any other show on her tour. The audience feeds off of her positive energy and it shows as the entire room dances and sings along.

As the bridge of the song comes on, YN keeps her eyes on the distinguishable white blazer among the crowd. She lowers herself to do her floorwork dance routine with her four core tour dancers and the crowd goes crazy at her sensual moves. Especially when she lays on her tummy while doing the splits, resting her head in her hand while her leg slides across the floor with a bounce of her bum.

Despite the loud crowd, she can hear the ear-piercing whistle from her husband. She can help but huff out a laugh, trying to keep her composure but failing.

...

“And the Grammy goes to....YN, Need To Know!”

YN’s dreaming, she must be. Life certainly doesn’t seem real as she walks up the steps of the stage and hugs non other than Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson after he announces that she won for Best Pop Solo Performance. After hugging her husband and the other two women within her category, she finds herself holding yet another Grammy award in her hands.

“Holy shit!” YN beams. “I have so many people to thank for this award but this one—hands down—goes to me fans. I—” She lets out a genuine laugh, the kind where a snort slips out. The audience members laugh along with her, feeding off of her bubbly energy.

“The fans made this song what it is. I—this song wasn’t even supposed to be on me album! But it got leaked and when the fans gave it so much love, they made it into a single. Never in a million years would I think that this song would get this much love, let alone get one of these so, thank you to all me fans. I love you all very much!”

...

Harry stands beside her at their designated table but rather than looking out at the performers, his eyes are set on YN. A fond smile graces his lips as he sees her dancing and rapping along with every artist that comes out on stage for the 50 Years of Hip Hop Tribute.

He gives her an amused smile when she turns to look up at him, pointing at him aggressively as she sassily raps along to Queen Latifah’s U.N.I.T.Y.

He laughs at her reaction to Busta Rhymes taking the stage. With her eyes still glued to the stage before them, she grips on the flap of his blazer with a shocked, excited smile. She lets out a laugh mixed with a squeal when Rhymes raps his verse from Look At Me Now at lightning speed. Her fingers cover her temples, completely blown out of her mind at the absolute magic that is happening right in front of her.

And when Missy Elliot comes out, YN sways her way in front of Harry. With his arm resting over her shoulder, she takes his dangling hand and while leaning over she moves her hips to the beat of the female legend rapping, “rump shaking” over and over again. She gives him a cheeky look over her shoulder while she does it and when they hear Lizzo and Adele cheering her on, the couple bursts out laughing.

For the rest of the performance, Harry has her back pressed to his chest, arms secured over her shoulders and chest as they lightly bounce together to the beat of the songs.

...

Although neither Harry nor YN won Record of the Year, they both couldn’t be happier that Lizzo was the one to receive the award. As soon as her name was called, the married couple were quickly on their feet, cheering and whistling loudly in celebration for their good friend.

“I also want to thank my girl, YN, over there!” Lizzo points over to where the couple stands with a loud laugh. YN yells out an Oi! Oi! with her hand up, a big smile gracing her face as she looks at one of her dear friends. “Miss m’am, you’ve been such an inspiration to me and I just wanna give you a shout out for helping produce some of my songs. This girl is the one who said this song should be my single!”

The camera turns back to YN as Harry tugs her to his side, throwing an arm over the tops of her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

...

“I see your point,” Riley puts his hands together in an understanding way from his spot at the round table, trying to be as polite as he can towards the elderly woman. “But have you considered listening to his former band mate turned wife’s album MY FUTURE?”

“Hi, I’m Riley and I think YN YLN’s album MY FUTURE is the Album of the Year. I have been a Directioner since the band first started and have been YN-ie since she went solo.”

A vertical video clip plays of an over-excited tween Riley at the barricade of the Take Me Home tour stage. Nineteen year old YN stands as close to the edge of the stage as she possibly can with her arm out towards the superfan. She blows him a kiss and gives him a twiddle of her fingers before walking back over to where the rest of the boys are lined up in a row.

Another clip shows YN decked out in her iconic sparkly blue bodysuit from her current tour standing at the end of the catwalk and pointing to Riley with a beaming smile, recognizing him from the shows he’s been to for the past couple of years.

“Her music is that light at the end of the tunnel, you know? She’s a bad B and sunshine all wrapped into one.” He moves his hands in front of him as he speaks passionately about his favorite artist. “She speaks to everyone through her music—it’s truly for everyone. She has grown so much as a songwriter, a producer, a human being over the past couple of years and this album is a true testament to that.”

...

It’s one thing to be nominated for Producer of the Year for a second time but it’s another to win it a second time. So imagine YN’s utter shock to hear her name be called for possibly the most significant award of her career.

“I would like to thank the academy, my wonderful team, me mum, me fans. And last but not least, I would like to thank my better half, my husband over there—” YN huffs out a laugh when the audience goes into a fit of cheering as the sight of Harry standing and blowing her kisses. “If it wasn’t for you, I would have never chased my dream of becoming a producer. That man has supported me and just encouraged me to work hard and to make music that makes me happy. I love you with all my heart and thank you so much.

To win this award a second year in a row—the first and only female to be nominated and win—” YN takes a step back with her eyes watery, her laughter ringing through the arena as the audience gives her a standing ovation. She can hear Harry’s whistle over all the cheering and clapping, and she couldn't be any happier.

“This is the highlight of me career and quite frankly, the coolest fookin’ thing to ever happen to me. Thank you so much and this one is to all the female producers out there!”

...

“And the Grammy goes to...” Trevor looks among the superfans behind him. He passes by Riley and says to the older woman that she can read out the winner.

”H-Harry! Harry’s House!” Reina yells out in utter excitement.

Harry puts his face in his hands as he’s overcome with emotions. Never in a million years would he ever think that he would win the award for Album of the Year and yet here he is with his name being called as the winner.

Meanwhile, as soon as her husband’s album is called, she puts her hands up in the air and screams at the top of her lungs. There are no bitter feelings of jealousy in her. He deserves it. She knows more than anyone that this ball of sunshine has been working his bum off to create the music that he loves and this award just proves that he’s doing something truly special. She puts her hands on Harry’s shoulders and tugs him close to her, him still covering his face as he digs his head into the crook of her shoulder. She beams and laughs along with Lizzo, reaching over to meet her high-five.

After the initial shock is over, he’s standing up and immediately pulling his teary-eyed wife into his arms.

“Congratulations, baby,” She lovingly says into his ear as he rocks them back and forth, gripping onto her as he’s afraid she may suddenly disappear. She sees his beautiful dimpled smile before cupping her face and planting a kiss to her lips. Both of them are so overjoyed, so blissfully overwhelmed by this award that they’re just floating on Cloud 9.

After she hugs the other producers—her teammates for this project—Harry quickly grips her hands and nods towards the stage. She shakes her head, wanting this to be his moment, but he’s not taking ‘no’ for an answer. The other two producers get behind her so she can’t go anywhere else and Harry has her arm looped through his as he guides them towards the stage.

Once they make it to the stage, her heart nearly bursts when Harry playfully makes his way over to the elderly woman, wrapping his arms around her tiny frame and jumping up and down. It’s such a sweet sight and it occurs to YN how special and rare these moments can be.

Before all of the superfans can make their way off the stage completely, YN quickly jogs over to Riley and he immediately accepts her warm embrace.

This is one of the first times where she can express her love to one of her fans, to show a tiny bit of appreciation for all the love she has for her fanbase—people who have been by her side since the very beginning. It’s not an easy feeling to come to terms with the fact that she will never know all of her fans on a personal level, to individually thank each and every single person for all that they’ve done for her.

Riley’s jaw is on the floor over her shoulder and when she pulls back, she takes his face in her hands, “‘Fank you so much, Riley. Love you, babe.”

After planting a kiss on his cheek, she rejoins her co-producers behind Harry. The two men welcome her embrace in a group hug and once Harry can see that she’s behind him, he begins his speech.

“Shit. Well, shit! Man, I’ve just been so, so inspired by every artist in this category with me. I listen to every single person in this category. I think on nights like tonight, it’s important for us to remember that there is no best in music.”

As Harry continues his speech, fans can see the way that YN’s eyes are glossy and how she bites down on her bottom lip, one breath away from truly bursting into a fit of tears.

“This is really, really kind. I’m so, so, grateful. I...this doesn't happen to people like me very often and this is so, so kind. I would like to thank my wife, YN, who I made the majority of the album with,” The audience collectively coos as he turns his attention to his love behind him. “You’ve been my biggest supporter, my best friend and the love of my life for as long as I can remember. Thank you for helping me make every album I’ve ever made and for this one in particular. This album is for you and so is this award.”

YN puts a hand over her bright smile as he passes her the Grammy with a kiss on her cheek. The audience cheers and claps in excitement as she comes up to the microphone.

Before she can even get a word out, she looks down at the Grammy in her hands and huffs out a light laugh of disbelief.

“Erm, I think Harry said it best in that we don’t make music with the intention of us getting one of these. I’m so unbelievably honored to have worked with Harry since the start of our careers in the band and beyond that.

My love, I want to thank you for the trust that you’ve given me when we make music. Every second that we’ve worked on this album has been incredibly special to me. It’s...I’m so incredibly over the fookin’ moon right now. I want to pass it onto my wonderful collaborators who helped make Harry’s vision come to life.”

While the other producers give their brief ‘thank you’ speeches, fans are more focused on the couple behind them.

When YN passes the Grammy off to Kid, she’s immediately engulfed by her husband. Her hands grip onto his shoulders as he digs his forehead to the middle of her chest and shakes it in disbelief—an action that looks like he’s motorboating her if taken out of context. She takes his face in her hands and gives him one of her breath-taking smiles. Although their conversation doesn’t get picked up by the microphones, fans can read her lips as she mouths “I love you,” and “So proud of you.”

She closes her eyes with a smile when he digs his face back into the crook of her neck and rocks them from side to side. The faint sound of her giggling is picked up as he mumbles something against the shell of her ear.

If it were any other situation, the couple probably would have tamed their public displays of affection in front of so many watchful eyes. If.

...

After the award ceremony has come to a close, everyone takes their turn doing a photoshoot with their Grammys.

YN certainly has her arms full trying to hold her four Grammys in her arms. It’s not long until she holds her Grammy for being one of the producers for Harry’s Album of the Year Award along with Tyler, Kid, and of course, her husband.

“Do the two of you want to do one together? Let’s do one together!” The photographer decides without the couple’s imput but they certain don’t complain.

Soon enough, Harry sits on the fancy couch they have set up for them. While he holds his two Grammys in his hands, YN holds two of her own before sitting down on his thigh.

“Is this seat taken?” YN teases with a wiggle of her eyebrows. The photographer’s assistance places her other two awards beside them on the couch.

“Never,” He smiles up at her and a flash of light washes over them at the photographer taking a candid picture of them.

When YN posts one of the pictures on her instagram, it’s YN in Harry’s lap with their collective Grammys sat on the couch with them. She’s cradling one of the awards like a baby and they both look at it with playful, exasperated love.

She captions it with: We’re just one big happy family.

I write for free so if any of you lovies would like to help a college girl out and buy her a ko-fi i would greatly appreciate it :) 💚

taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish @perrypughstyles @luvonstyles @mxltifxnd0m @teamspideyman @c00chiemonster @juiceboxrry @s8tellite @folklorehrry @illicithallways @claramllera @eunoiaax @hoya122 @nichmedder @sleutherclaw @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @harianaswhore @teawithcyb0rgs @vrittivsanghavi @vc55bughead @futuristiccroissantlampsludge @onecrazydirectioner @valluvsu @itsgabbysblog @awkwardbisexuall @rosehel @sucker4angstt @isalove @diorchives @mrshiddlestyles02 @fdl305

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solitaireships · 11 months ago

Text

baby you know i'm guilty

Today's my anniversary with Selina! In honor of that, I wanted to write a fic about her, so here's a fun little one of her and Alex at an auction together. The title comes from the song "Guilty" by Claudia Brücken and the Real Tuesday Weld, that's a very Alley Cat song to me

Rating: Teen

Genre: Fluff

Words: 1102 words

Divider by racingairplanes

The hum of live orchestral music fills the Gotham Museum of the Arts, just loud enough to be heard over the chorus of people in attendance at this year’s annual auction. Alex tries to focus on the music instead of the people— it’s easier for her to process that than to try to filter through all the noise to listen to just one conversation.

Alex isn’t here because she likes parties. Especially not the ones frequented by Gotham’s elite. They’re always vapid, full of gossip and petty small talk that's part of a never ending social game, and it’s hard to feel like she actually belongs with any of these people. And yet she technically speaking does belong here, her status as a defense attorney earning her the acclaim to be invited to these kinds of things.

Alex never buys anything at these auctions. But she feels like she has to at least make an appearance, and she can admit it’s fun to get to dress up. She’s not the most fashionable person, but she likes the way the dress she’s wearing fits her, the dark red material flaring out a bit around the skirt and showing a bit of her cleavage. Her wedding ring shines on one finger while she has a couple of other decorative rings along with it, pairing them with a necklace with a silver chain.

Being here with Selina also is nice, though the two of them came here separately. Alex was caught up with finishing her work, so Selina ended up getting the auction before her. Unlike Alex, she always seems to thrive at these kinds of things, charming everyone she speaks to and enjoying being the center of attention.

Not that Alex can blame anyone entranced by Selina. She supposes that she’s been too, and she can definitely see why people would be drawn to her tonight as her eyes land on her wife making her way down a set of marble stairs.

Selina looks like a vision in her black evening gown. It shows off her chest, a bit of her cleavage visible over its sweetheart neckline, and the skirt of it is slit down the sides to give a glimpse of the black pantyhose and dark purple heels she’s wearing. A diamond necklace glitters around her neck, matching a pair of dangling earrings, and Alex is always glad to see Selina’s wedding ring on her finger.

The sleeveless look of her dress also shows off the muscles of her arms. She’s by no means bulky, having a short, lithe frame, but it’s clear from looking at her that she’s strong. What’s not as clear are the scars that Alex knows trail along her arms and shoulders, different nicks and scrapes she’s gotten over the years from close calls that are now hidden under with makeup. Alex thinks she’d look prettier with them— they're a part of her just like anything else— but she truly is stunning regardless.

And, if Alex knows Selina like she knows she does, odds are she’s going to try to steal something tonight. Her look for the evening may not be the flashiest, but she has a taste for expensive and shiny things, plenty of which are on display for the auction tonight.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” Selina greets as she makes it over to Alex, her dark red lips quirking upwards in a playful smile.

“Hi,” Alex replies. She gives Selina a quick kiss on the cheek. “You look lovely.”

“Flatterer.”

“I think I’m just being honest.”

“Well, like I said, you look beautiful yourself,” Selina says. She offers a hand to Alex. “Any chance I can convince a pretty woman like yourself to join me on the dance floor?”

Alex takes Selina’s hand in hers. “I’m sure you could.”

Selina grins as she guides Alex onto the dance floor. A soft, lilting orchestral song is playing, and Alex takes the lead, one hand resting on Selina’s hip. Selina puts her hand on Alex’s shoulder, gazing at her with a soft, affectionate expression.

Alex likes getting to hold Selina like this. She wishes that she could for this whole party.

But she also knows that Selina’s going to want to sneak off towards the auction hall. She’ll want to get her hands on something pretty— or something valuable to sell off.

Alex is at least glad that a lot of the money from things Selina steals go to charities. She’s always had a soft spot for animal shelters, but Alex knows she’s given money to women’s shelters too. Selina has a good heart, and that’s something that Alex has always seen in her.

As they move across the dance floor, though, Alex needs to make sure that Selina doesn’t take anything tonight.

“Remember to behave yourself,” she says.

Selina grins, a twinkle in her mismatched green and brown eyes. “I don’t know what you’re implying.”

“You know exactly what I’m implying,” Alex replies. She leans closer to whisper, “Keep your hands to yourself.”

“Am I supposed to completely?” She trails one hand down Alex’s side, the other massaging between her shoulder blades.

“Selina.”

“I know,” she says, pulling back to look at Alex again to be sure she can see her roll her eyes. “No stealing. But come on, Alley. I think both of us know we like the fun that comes from me getting into a little trouble.”

Selina’s not wrong. As much as Alex can play the always moral, always righteous attorney and vigilante, it’s exciting to get to leap into action as Solitaire, to give chase to Selina as she gets into something she really shouldn’t. Being with Selina under any circumstances is fun in a way that few other things are.

If there’s one thing that Alex is completely sure of, it’s that Selina has made her life better. So, she tells herself, she can be a little more flexible with the rules.

“If you do, at least be careful,” Alex says. She spins Selina around, with Selina coming to a stop in front of Alex again, pressing her back against her chest. This is definitely closer than the two of them should be for this dance, but Alex can’t find it in her to point that out when this lets her hold Selina so close.

“I will,” Selina promises. She looks back over her shoulder to Alex. “And I’m sure we’ll find plenty of ways to entertain ourselves here either way.”

Alex gives her a quick kiss on the cheek, savoring the feeling of Selina in her arms. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure we will.”

#🐈‍⬛ stolen kiss #🐈‍⬛#♠️ alex #selfship fic #selfship #safeship #my posts #my writing #happy anniversary babe <3

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sequinsmile-x · 2 years ago

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Hey, sorry you’re having a rough time at work (I totally feel you on the emails thing - I’m off this week and will definitely have hundred of emails to wade through when I get back on Monday).

You asked for headcannons/thoughts, and one that’s consuming my brain right now is the idea of Morgan finding out that Hotch and Emily are together and being pissed about it. I’m thinking because of some mixture of assuming it’s nothing serious and being annoyed that they’re potentially risking the team dynamic for a fling, with a bit of perhaps also thinking Hotch is too emotionally damaged/repressed/stoic to give Emily what she needs and deserves.

I love the idea of him being kind of shitty to them about it, but then accidentally observing them together when they don’t know anybody is watching them (perhaps several times) and realising he had it all wrong.

Thank you so much!! Work continues to be rough, but I have an interview this week for another role so fingers crossed <3

I hope your first week back wasn't too bad, and that you didn't have too many emails to wade through!!

This is for you, and anyone else who may be feeling the Sunday Scaries

-x-

Assumptions

His mother had always told him he made too many assumptions.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: none!

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“At this rate, Dave will have had more book launch parties than he did weddings.”

Aaron laughs at his girlfriend's joke, squeezing her hand as they step onto Dave’s porch, the sound of the party inside slightly muffled by the door, “As he’d remind you himself, he only got married three times.”

“That’s still three more times than I’ve been married,” she mumbles, raising her eyebrow at him and he leans in to kiss her cheek.

“We’ll have to get working on your first marriage then,” he jokes, winking at her as he pulls back, “Let you catch up.”

She rolls her eyes at him but can’t help but laugh, shaking her head as he manages to calm her down with nothing more than his smile and his dry sense of humour. They’d been together for eight months but had only recently told the team, the delay in telling them partially down to her concern over their reactions and partially due to enjoying it being a secret. She knew Aaron was it for her, and she was it for him, the chance at happiness that they both deserved after everything. She saw everything with him.

Living together (which they practically did already.)

Marriage (she knew he had a ring.)

Kids (something she hadn’t realised how much she wanted before him.)

She was sure about her relationship, about the decisions she had made, but she felt nervous about their first social event with the team since they told them about them being together. She knew they’d be watched closely, even with other guests around for the book launch, and she wanted to turn around and go home with Aaron.

“It will be ok, you know,” Aaron says, seemingly reading her mind as he squeezes her hand again. She turns and looks at him, slowly blowing out a breath.

“Derek has been acting…strangely since we told them,” she says, biting her lower lip as she looks at Aaron, “He won’t talk to me.”

The rest of the team had reacted exactly as she thought they would. Penelope was excited, the screech she let out loud enough Emily was surprised it hadn’t pierced her eardrums. JJ had been more subdued in her delight for them, pulling Emily into a hug as she whispered that she knew she must have been seeing someone because she seemed happier. Spencer had been confused, having to have it spelt out for him after the more subtle approach had failed. Dave, of course, claimed he’d known all along. A shit-eating grin on his face as he looked them up and down, a sparkle to his eyes that simultaneously irritated and delighted Emily.

Derek had barely reacted. Shrugging off the news like it was nothing before he left the room once they confirmed how long they had been together. Reacting like Emily hadn’t lost sleep over telling them, over showing them this part of herself that she treasured so deeply. She’d always been private, but found herself all the more keen to play her cards close to her chest since Paris. The way that everything that had happened with Ian was revealed had left her feeling raw, torn open in a way she still felt as if she was recovering from even now.

“You know what he’s like, sweetheart,” Aaron says, squeezing her hand and smiling encouragingly at her, “He doesn’t always react well to change.”

She sighs, “I know,” she replies, “I know that. I guess I just…”

“Wanted your friend to be happy for you,” Aaron finishes for her as she drifts off, and she smiles sadly, nodding in response.

“Yeah,” she chokes out, “After everything is that really too much to ask?” She says, shrugging one of her shoulders.

“Do you want me to talk to him?” Aaron offers and she shakes her head, stepping closer to him to stamp a kiss against his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck as he places his hands on her hips.

“Thats sweet, but no,” she replies, scratching his scalp with her blunt nails, “It will be ok.”

She leans in to kiss him again but the door opens, the sound of the party getting louder as they turn to look at Dave, a wide grin on his face.

“I was going to just let you stay out here a little longer,” he quips, leaning on the door frame, “But I didn’t want you to start making out on my porch. It’s way too early in the evening for a show.”

Emily rolls her eyes at him and reaches for Aaron’s hand, linking their fingers together as they walk into the house together.

“Shut up, Dave.”

___

She kisses Aaron on the cheek as she walks away, squeezing his hand once before she walks towards the kitchen to get another glass of wine, weaving through the crowd of Dave’s guests as she goes.

She pauses in the doorway as she realises the kitchen is empty apart from Derek. She’s about to turn and walk away, already feeling like enough of a spectacle with how Penelope kept looking at her and Aaron like they were the latest enclosure of a zoo, without adding to it, but Derek spots her.

“Hi Emily,” he says, smiling tightly at her before he looks back down to the beer he was reaching for, twisting the top from it.

“Hi,” she replies, smiling at him before she walks in, placing her glass on the counter before she reaches for the bottle of wine, the sound of it pouring loud in the otherwise quiet kitchen. She hates the awkwardness. It reminds her too much of those first days back in DC when everyone kept looking at her like she’d disappear, and Derek still wasn’t sure if he could trust her.

“Are you sure you’ve thought this through?”

She freezes briefly at the unexpected question before she places the bottle of wine back down on the counter, and picks up her glass of wine before she turns to look at him, making sure her face is neutral as her eyes meet his.

“Thought what through, Derek?” She asks, even though she knows the answer she wants to hear him say it.

He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, “Are you sure you and Hotch are right for each other?”

“Why would you ask that?” She asks, and he shrugs, throwing his hands up in the air.

“He’s not the kind of guy I thought you’d go for. He isn’t exactly your type, and he’s emotionally repressed,” he chuckles, “We’ve made fun of him for it for as long as we’ve known each other.”

“That was before…” she clears her throat, stopping herself from saying anything she knows Aaron wouldn’t want her to say, “It’s different now.”

She’d always known Aaron’s stoic nature was his way of protecting himself from the things they saw day in, day out. That it was a mask he wore so often he sometimes forgot to take it off, the seriousness that came with it almost second nature to him. It was only when they got together and he let her see behind that mask that she truly realised how deep it ran. How he wasn’t just protecting himself from their work but from everything he’d been through. From his father and the childhood he rarely spoke of.

From the man he spent every day terrified he would turn into.

It made her protective of him, her shackles rising at Derek’s words that she’d heard many times before.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he says, raising his eyebrows at her, “Are you sure you’re right for each other?”

She’s grateful for her years of training, both from her mother and Interpol, because she doesn’t react, knowing he’d try to analyse even the slightest change to her expression.

“Yes,” she says simply, an attempt to leave no room for argument that she knows deep down won’t work.

He raises an eyebrow at her, “That easy?”

“Yes,” she says again, having a sip of her wine, “That easy.”

“I guess you have had eight months to think about it,” he challenges, unrelenting now he’d started, and she almost feels like she was being interrogated by her friend.

“Is that your problem with it?” She asks, matching his directness. He furrows his brow and opens his mouth to argue, but she stops him before he can, “Don’t lie to me and say you don’t have a problem with it. You’ve been short with me for days, and you’ve all but cornered me at our friend's house to interrogate me about it.”

“I’m not interrogating you.”

She chuckles humourlessly and has another sip of wine, “If you aren’t, you really need to work on your tone of voice,” she says, blowing out a steady breath to try to calm herself down, not wanting this to escalate, “We kept it a secret because we wanted to.”

It wasn't that simple, and she knew it. But it was all she was willing to say here, all she was willing to divulge when he was like this. An unmovable force who would think he was correct no matter what she said.

“Not because you thought you had something to be ashamed of?”

She clenches her jaw, and she feels anger flash through her body, a lick of fire that she can’t control, “I have nothing to be ashamed of,” she says tightly, not liking the insinuation, like the relationship between her and Aaron was something she should feel bad about. She stares at him, the thought she hadn’t been able to shake since his poor reaction just days ago floating around her head. She clears her throat, her chest tight as she asks the question that, if she’s honest, has been on the tip of her tongue for months, “Is this about Ian?”

It’s Derek’s turn to tense, barely covering his reaction as something close to anger and embarrassment flashes across his face, and she wonders what it means that it brings her some form of joy. That all this time later he felt some shame about the things he had thought, and said, about her in the fallout of Ian and his relentless chase of her.

“He told you about that?” He asks, his body tight.

“No,” she replies, biting the inside of her cheek as his face relaxes, confusion washing over it, “Dave did,” she swallows thickly, “Aaron has always been a better man than you give him credit for.”

She knows he doesn’t miss the double meaning behind her words. That Aaron was more well suited for her than Derek gave him credit for, and that he’d kept what Derek had said from her, to save her feelings as well as the other man from how he currently felt.

Derek sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, “Look, Princess-”

“You don’t have to understand what I did then,” she says, cutting off the apology she doesn’t want to hear, and she laughs bitterly, “You don’t even have to agree with it, but you don’t get to use it again me,” she steps closer to him, “And you certainly don’t get to use it to judge my relationship with the man I love.”

“Em-”

“Excuse me,” she says, walking past him determinedly, wanting the conversation to end before it goes any further, not wanting it to escalate at all, let alone tonight, she turns to look at him, “If you could get your shit together before we get married though I’d appreciate it, because thats where this is going whether you like it or not,” she smiles at the thought of it despite the situation, “And it would be a shame to not invite you.”

She walks away before he can respond. ___

His mother had always told him he made too many assumptions.

Derek knows he is wrong the moment Emily walks away, a tightness to her shoulders that was always the first sign she was upset. He wants to apologise, to seek her out immediately, but he knows it’s no use, that she won’t listen to him until she’s calmed down a little.

He only feels worse when he speaks to Penelope. She pulls him aside and half-shouts at him through her teeth as she tries, and fails, to not draw any attention to them as she tells him off. Derek could count on one hand the number of times Penelope had been genuinely mad at him and he knew this was definitely one of them. Her eyes wide as she tells him he’d not better nor ruin this for Aaron and Emily or, she adds, for her. Derek knew that she’d always hoped on some level that they would get together and would mention it any time she was drunk, commenting that they were perfect for each other, something he’d never quite been able to see.

At first, he thought it was merely a fling. A throwaway relationship that Aaron and Emily were sharing with them that would forever alter the dynamics of the team. His anger only increased minutes later when they finally got the chance to explain they’d been together a while, eight months of secrecy and white lies that made him furious.

The last time Emily had kept a secret from them he’d carried her coffin, and all of it had come flooding back.

Derek sighs as he scratches the back of his head, the party around him is too loud for how he was feeling, and he decides to head outside, desperate for some fresh air. He’s only just stepped outside, the cool air soothing against his skin, when he spots them across Dave’s backyard, tucked into a corner together away from everyone else. For a moment he’s worried they’ve seen him too, but they are too wrapped up in each other to realise he’s outside, and he takes a moment to watch them.

Emily’s back is against the wall, her arms crossed over her chest as if she’s holding herself together. She has Aaron’s jacket over her shoulders, protecting her from the cold, and she’s looking up at him. Aaron is leaning against the wall, one of his hands next to her head, boxing her in against the brick wall, and the other on her neck, his thumb tracing back and forth over her jawline, touching her like she was made of something precious.

He can’t hear what they are saying, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know Aaron is comforting her. His eyes soft in a way Derek doesn’t think he’s ever seen from the other man before, looking down at Emily as if she is the only thing in the whole world at that moment. Emily nods at whatever Aaron has said, and she pulls him in for a kiss, her hand tight around the collar of his shirt as she holds him in place.

It’s a tenderness he hadn’t known either of them was capable of, something he hadn’t seen in them before, and it puts the final part of any assumption he’d made about them and their relationship well and truly to bed.

Emily suddenly looks over at him, as if aware that she was being watched, and she says something to Aaron who looks over too, his face hardening before Derek’s eyes, and he’s surprised he hasn’t turned to stone. Emily grabs Aaron’s face and speaks to him with an amused smile on her face, stamping a kiss against his lips before he steps back. Aaron walks towards Derek, sending him a stern look that he knows says nothing other than “hurt her again and I’ll kill you,” before he heads inside, clearly leaving Derek and Emily alone at her request.

He hears a clearing of a throat and looks up to find Emily standing right next to him, “You move pretty damn quietly, princess.” He says, his hand over his heart and she smiles.

“Well, it’s the first thing they teach you when you’re a spy,” she jokes, her smile fading as their eyes meet, “Derek-”

“I’m sorry,” he says, cutting over her, “I was out of line and…I’m sorry. You’re right, it’s not my place and Pen made that clear too.”

Emily purses her lips to cover a laugh, “She did?”

“Yeah,” Derek nods, shaking his head as he laughs, “She said I ‘better not ruin this for her.’”

Emily laughs for real this time, throwing her head back, “Well, I think she’s been planning the wedding since long before Aaron and I actually got together. She’s tried to push me towards him for years,” she gives him a half shrug, her teeth digging into her bottom lip, “Maybe I should have listened sooner.”

He watches her carefully, taking in how casually she says it, the second mention of a type of commitment that would have sent the Emily Prentiss he thought he knew running in the other direction.

“You’re that sure about it? About him?”

Emily looks past him, and Derek turns to see Aaron standing just on the other side of the glass door, watching them intently, and he looks back at her, not missing how her eyes sparkle and she nods.

“More sure than I have ever been about anything,” she says before she looks up at him, “I understand it might take a little while to get used to-”

‘Em-”

“I get it, but please at least try to be happy for me,” she says, her smile vulnerable, “I think it took me dying to realise I wasn’t really living.”

He takes a deep breath at that, the memory of burying her always too much to bear, and he slowly blows it back out, “I am happy for you,” he says, and she raises an eyebrow at him and he laughs, “Ok, I will get there. I just need some time to adjust.”

She smiles and nods, “I can accept that,” she looks past him again, and he doesn’t have to turn around to know Aaron is still staring at him, his gaze burning into his back, “I should go in there before he starts planning your murder in any more detail than he already has.”

Derek nods and lets her pass, only turning when he hears the door click behind her. He watches as Aaron pulls her into a hug, whispering something in her ear that makes her laugh in a way that he hasn’t heard in a long time, loud and beaming even through the glass door, and it makes him smile.

Five months later, he claims he doesn’t cry during their wedding ceremony, something Penelope immediately calls him out on when she tells a delighted Emily at the reception that he’d had to borrow her bright pink handkerchief.

-x-

Tag list:

@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @beebeelank, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis-22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77, @alexblakegf, @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch, @emobabeyy, @victoiregranger, @stormyweatherth, @wanderingdreamer009, @ssablackbird, @luhwithah, @lex13cm, @prentiss-theorem, @dont-emily-me, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @jocyycreation, @itsmytimetoodream, @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield, @canuck-eh

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v-anrouge · 8 months ago

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CREWEL X KONIG SCHENHEIT IDEAS!

Crewel met him before Vil went to NRC at a fashion show.

Maybe after Vil was born, and Vil got lost at the show as a like three to five year old. Vil maybe hides under a chair cause everything is loud and scary, he can’t find his papa. And suddenly a big fluffy white coat is in front of him, then someone crouches down to look under the chair. Crewel loves kids, and his heart melts at the sight of the tearful blonde boy. Crewel offers a hand to help him find his guardian and little Vil all but leaps into the man’s arms. Strangers are scary but so is being very short around adults who can’t see you! So Crewel carries the boy around, asking about his dad. “He’s super cool, and the handsomest! And the best papa ever!” And Vil settles down talking about how cool his dad is.

Poor Konig is panicking looking for his young son before he feels a tap on his shoulder and seeing the prettiest man holding his sniffling son! Crewel and him sit next to eachother during the show. And obviously poor Vil gets bored out of his mind, so Crewel finds a few games to play. How many red shoes can you find? Bet I can find more! After the show, little Vil is knocked out, snuggled under Crewel’s coat, and Konig “feels kinda bad removing him from it” so he and Crewe are kind of “forced” to get dinner! They didn’t have a choice!

They stay friends, even as Vil grows up, and Vil has known they’ve liked eachother since he was seven. Nobody crinkles the magazine when they see their “friend” on a date like that. Vil tries to play matchmaker. “Poor papa is so lonely, I’m going to school and can’t give him the affection he needs!” “Uncle Divus is so stressed from teaching! He’s probably sick of being around kids. Maybe I can have a babysitter and you and him can talk about taxes!” (Cause that’s what adults do obviously!)

Vil finally shoves them together when he starts at NRC, and knows they’re dating, they’ve been pining for years now, but he can also pretend he doesn’t see it. He even stays silent when he sees Crewel walking into class wearing his dad’s chapstick, though he does internally cringe a bit.

Vil also takes over their wedding, and demands to be the flower girl, Crewel’s dogs are the ring bearers. And when Vil is interviewed about his dad marrying his teacher he just says “finally!”

OK I WANTED TO ANSWER THJS ONE KAST AJJWJXJS

TGIS IS SO SO SO FUCKING CUTE SO GOOD OMFG I honestly was thinking of them starting to date when vil was already grown but him as a child is MUCH better, esp in that scenario.

just imaging vil growing up considering crewel part of the family and eric/konig (in case anyone doesn't know eric is vil's dad stage name, konig is just a name they made for him) is just getting teary eyed hoping one day he'll truly make part of it. little vil playing cupid 😿😿 i just know he'd use any excuses he got to make crewel stay over, when he'd get sad he demanded both of them pampered him all day, which they did until vil fell asleep in both of their laps with the movie still just starting.

grown vil just so sick and tired of them beating around the bush and just rolling his eyes when his father still refers to crewel as his friend. imagine vil's smile when they FINALLY refer to each other as lovers after YEARS

AAHHDJHSDJJS THE WEDDING PART AJSHSJEDJS please the wedding would be so so beautiful, crewel designed both of their suits because he wanted them to be special, adding in small details that would make it clear that they're for them and no one else, vil would be crying so much, so so proud and glad to see his fathers together and happy at last. ANS THE DOGS RAAAHHHHHHHHDDHDHDHEHDDBEBSHSB

OLD MAN YAOI WILL RUIN MY LIFE ERIC X CREWEL IS REAL

#✎ ⇣‧₊˚ 【asks #ৎ୭ ⇣‧₊˚ 【stinks #♡ᭂ ⇣‧₊˚ 【 my silly #FAV FAV FAV

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missyflamingo · 1 year ago

Text

Pride to Paper: 30-Day June Writing Challenge

DAY TWO: BEARD COUPLE

We’re like two puzzle pieces with no straight lines. A math equation that was wrong on every step and got the right answer at the end. An expert ASL interpreter and an over-enthusiastic Italian-American. These are a few of the ways my partner, March would describe our relationship. We complete each other, we love each other, we carry the title “couple”, but we are as far from in love as you could possibly get.

Like all great couples, we met at a social gathering: my aunt and her fiancé’s engagement party. My mom was best friends with her mom, Amelia, so Amelia got an invitation. That meant dragging her 16-year-old daughter along to start the process of steeping her in the life of what any girl in her late teens should want: champagne, a strange obsession with off-white decor, and - most of all - a man. My aunt didn’t object to the invitation, frankly she was delighted to have as many eyes as possible on her and her dazzling left ring finger, which was actually sporting cubic zirconium but she told everybody it was diamond.

It was in the third hour of the function when I spotted March across the room. She sat alone on a loveseat couch with a paper plate of finger foods on the table in front of her. She had long dirty blonde hair under a fitted cap the same red as her hiking boots and a left hand covered in silver rings. Her eyes wandered around a room alien to her, not because she didn’t know anyone (though that was also true of the situation), but because she didn’t care for them. Seeing the bride-and-groom-to-be passionately embrace, she didn’t react in jealousy or longing like I saw the other girls her age do. She only seemed bored. Maybe it was living in a big family from Iowa that tuned my heat vision for fellow homosexuals so well, but I knew I had to talk to her.

“Bored?” I asked.

She stared at me for a second, reading me up and down; I imagine I wasn’t the first male stranger to approach her with an icebreaker. Then, a sigh. “Is it obvious?”

“Very much so. I am, too. I’m just here because the fiancée is my aunt. That, and the food.”

“My mom invited me and she’s my ride. That, and the food.” She smiled and ate a piece of melon off the plate in front of her.

“I don’t even know why engagement parties are a thing. Isn’t the wedding enough?”

“That’s what I was thinking! Like, we’re already gonna know you’re together, you don’t need to pre-game.”

I paused, then decided to cast a line to see if she’d catch it. “Yeah, it’s like they’re shoving it down our throats. I mean, hey, I’m not against that kind of stuff, I’m not a monster, you know? I just think you should do it in the privacy of your bedroom, you know?”

A hook right in the cheek, she almost choked on the melon she was still chewing. I chuckled along with her, quietly at first, before she swallowed and replied, “I’m just worried about the children.” I couldn’t hold it in after that, but tried my best to subdue my reaction as to keep the punchline a secret from the rest of the crowd - habit, I guess.

She held out her hand, which I saw had a stick and poke tattoo of a single Venus symbol on the side of the wrist. “I’m March.”

I took it in mine. “Wallace.”

We talked for the rest of the event, about anything we could - games, TV shows, animals, a brief stint on American politics, and especially our identities. We kept the last two out of earshot the best we could, and it seemed to have worked given how the night ended. My aunt thanked the guests, everyone began filing out, and I gave a last goodbye to March with a side hug - it seemed intimate for a first meeting, but you’d be surprised what kind of bond can form between a gay man and a lesbian.

I had to stay behind to help my mom clean up, who stayed behind to help my aunt clean up. She had a cheeky swagger to her when she collected the plates and cups around the living room.

“So, Wallace,” my mom called to me as I was drying dishes, “you seemed to get along pretty well with Amelia’s girl.”

“March? Yeah, she’s cool.”

My aunt chimed in from behind me. “That’s how they all start, don’t they, Debora?”

My mom hummed in agreement. “Come on Wallace, she was touching your leg when she talked. ‘Cool’ girls don’t do that.”

I remembered that moment, she was telling me how much she loved albatross-related folklore and got really into it. Possibly the farthest from flirting a subject could be.

“We just met.”

“Okay, Wally,” my aunt responded, closing a pair of cupboard doors. “But whenever you two get involved with each other, don’t be mad when we’re not surprised.”

We did get involved with each other after that, as best friends. Soon, it was all kinds of social functions that we were spotted at sitting hip to hip: New Year’s, Easter, Fourth of July barbecues, even Labour Day Weekend where we sat on the same gingham blanket and watched the fireworks together. And at every spotting, there would be a remark or a question that revolved around our relationship status. I wondered how many people fully believed we were dating. Neither of us had the guts to say why we weren’t, so the most we could respond with was “we’re just friends”, which, for adults talking to teens, essentially translates to “we’ll be dating very shortly.” It seemed like everyone in our lives wanted us to be in a relationship more than we did, whether that was with each other or with anyone of the opposite sex.

This back-and-forth charade of awkward heterosexuality continued for well over a year before it really had to be put to the test. June of our final year of high school approached quickly, and with it the ever-pestering question of who we were taking to prom. It was a late night of drinking iced teas on my front porch when the topic came up between the two of us. March painted a dire picture of the amount of pressure she got from her mom to go with someone, and I joined her in solidarity with the pressure I was getting from my dad.

“Sometimes,” I took a sip, “I wish we could just be straight so we could actually date. Then people would stop asking who I’m going to prom with.”

The crickets played a steady, slow, monotone beat as we sat in quiet. I like to think they were simply expressing the speed that my brain was moving at, because I must’ve been a massive idiot to not think of what she said next at any point before then.

“We don’t we just go together?”

I tapped a nail on the side of my glass. “Like, as a date?”

“Why not? You don’t have to go with a straight girl, I don’t have to go with a straight guy, we’re already really close, and people will stop asking questions.”

“Wouldn’t that be lying?”

“Who cares if its lying? We’ve already been lying this whole time. Everyone except me thinks you still like girls.”

I rolled the idea around my head for a few moments to find the downside, but I couldn’t see any. “And if a slow dance song comes on?”

“We slow dance. Or are you forgetting the ABBA binge in my room last month?”

I pointed at her. “Hey, that’s not fair, Chiquitita is different.”

“Then just pretend whatever Ed Sheeran song they play is Chiquitita.”

I sighed and smiled to myself. Setting down my iced tea, I turned to her and cupped her hands in mine. I put on my best romance-movie-heartthrob face. “Marcella Caldwell, will you make me the happiest fruitcake in the world and go to prom with me?”

She laughed, quickly firing back, “Only if you let me be the happiest butch by saying yes.”

With a firm handshake and a clink of our glasses, we began a long con to live the best we could in a world that tried to fit us inside a box. I will admit, to a degree, we did. Prom became Thanksgiving, which became Christmas, which eventually escalated into moving in together - for ease of rooming situations and rent, of course. Not once did someone question it, and no one batted an eye when March’s new gal pal Kelly moved into our apartment two years into our “relationship”.

On occasion, I’ll have thoughts of taking it too far, if we were doing something wrong by lying to our family and friends like we were. But every time, March’s words on the porch resound in my ears: Who cares? We’ve been lying this whole time.

#pridetopaper #lgbtq fiction #lgbtq #wlw #MLM #wlw/mlm solidarity #beard couple #writers of tumblr #creative writing #writing challenge #queer #closeted #gay men #lesbian

0 notes

august-atwood · 2 years ago

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I posted 232 times in 2022

That's 232 more posts than 2021!

9 posts created (4%)

223 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@frankieking

@raj-veerapen

@amaya-veerapen

@penned-cbarbosa

@chris-grimaldi

I tagged 231 of my posts in 2022

#t: frankie - 118 posts

#t: raj - 35 posts

#p: frankie - 20 posts

#t: amaya - 18 posts

#o: amaya - 17 posts

#swwedding - 15 posts

#p: celeste - 7 posts

#p: chris - 6 posts

#p: zari - 6 posts

#p: xavier - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 97 characters

#((and they're going to be like uhhhh about it because auggie doesn't know if amaya knows or not))

My Top Posts in 2022:

@frankieking

Happy Birthday, babe!

I cannot wait to celebrate you & celebrate with you all weekend. I hope you like your presents and don’t think they’re too cheesy.

Love you! Your Auggie

Contents

Suitcase backpack (with 3 packing cubes) that fits under an airplane seat

Daisy passport & credit card holder

Not A Girl t-shirt

SDCC selfie printed on a canvas

2 notes - Posted September 1, 2022

First Not-Date | Frauggie

Featuring: August & Frankie @frankieking Location: The Black Keys Time: The night before the Thomeste wedding Mentions: Raj @raj-veerapen Notes: Raj was working at the same time as August, so I imagine he witnessed everything that happened before August took their break.

--FRANKIE-- What does one wear to meet someone they've already made a date with for the first time? It's the age of technology. Come on, Frankie, pull yourself together. In their 20-something some odd years, they haven't fully discovered the ability to do this. This being meeting someone they're kind of interested in but too chicken shit to really put themselves out there. They blame their grandmother. Obviously, raising Frankie wasn't and couldn't have been easy. Between their constant desire to learn and need for stimulation and the troubles they had caused in their younger years, grandma King had her hands full with young Frankie. But oh how they miss her now. After going through several outfits, they settled on a Blink 182 cropped top and black biker shorts with doc Martens on their feet. There was no time for updos or anything else. The curls would have to do and hopefully, the lighting at the bar would be kind to them. Once they had arrived, Frankie immediately approached the bartop and leaned in to kiss Raj on the cheek. "Hi. I'm here. Well, obviously I'm here. Why would I say that? Do I look okay? I brought a ring light with me. Don't ask. Do you even know what a ring light is? Oh!" Raj began backing away and Frankie noticed August standing behind him. "You heard all of that, didn't you?"

--AUGUST-- August was both excited and a bit nervous about going to the wedding with Frankie. It would kind of be their first date. They didn't know anyone who went to a wedding on a first date. Of course they told Raj all about their conversation with Frankie and how it ended up with them agreeing to go to the wedding together. August just left out all the bits about Mission Parent Trap. They didn't even notice when Frankie came into the bar because they were helping a customer, but when they heard Frankie talking, August knew who it was. They had seen Ship-Wrecked, and they had seen a few episodes of Frankie's entertainment show. Between serving people, they glanced over and heard what Frankie said about a ring light. August chuckled a little and gave Frankie a wave. "I heard the last half of it," they grinned. Frankie was even cuter in person, which August didn't think was possible. "Hi. In-person."

--FRANKIE-- Frankie watched Raj disappear into the wild from the corner of their eye. It was so dad-like it was actually comical. A chuckle escaped their lips and they shook their head as if telling him from a distance they'd get him somehow. And well, they were going to go through with that promise at the wedding. Setting their entire focus and gaze on August, they slipped onto a stool and grinned. There was something so refreshing about August. They were outgoing and bold which were two things Frankie struggled with. One would think that being on E! every evening would help with that but Frankie was one of those extroverted introverts. That's how most people described them. "Ah, so the ring light part? I got you one. To show off your face. People will love it..." Their words trailed off for a bit, finding themselves caught up in the said nice face. "Hello. Live and in color! How's your night going?"

--AUGUST-- "Oh! The ring light is for me. It's for the TikTok stuff, right?" August asked. They got so caught up in flirting with Frankie that they forgot they were going to help with the account stuff. As soon as Frankie sat down, August filled up a glass with ice water and handed it over. "It's better now," they said, giving a flirty smile. August knew Frankie was sober and would never suggest a cocktail, however August had a strong mocktail game. "Do you want something fancy to drink? No alcohol in it," they promised. "Just tell me what kinds of flavors you like, and I'll make something up."

--FRANKIE-- "Yeah! Get you those followers and that creator fund flowing." Frankie had become invested in wanting to help August get to their goals but it also helped how great they were. "Oh God, there they go again." Frankie chuckled, bringing the glass to their lips to hide the obvious grin on their face. It was nice of them to remember the sobriety. Frankie appreciated that so much that they found themselves staring again. "Um..." Tucking a curl behind their ear, Frankie cleared their throat, setting the glass down. "Thank you. I'd love something fancy. Pineapple and coconut? Or Mango? Something Tropical. I can pretend we're on the island after all."

--AUGUST-- August laughed a little bit, but they were glad for the help. Any help would be good and would get them one step closer toward their goal of being a full-time traveler and blogger. "You had to know that was coming," they grinned and watched the look on Frankie's face. The way they got bashful was even cuter than how August imagined it. "You're welcome. Tropical flavors are the best. I can absolutely whip something up for you. Something blended? It's warm out." August grabbed the blender along with some pineapple juice, coconut cream, and ice. They blended it all together for a virgin piña colada. And in the glass, August swirled a bit of strawberry puree before pouring the piña colada in. Then they garnished it with a slice of pineapple and a maraschino cherry. "Here we go. A virgin Lava Flow. If you hate it, I'll make you something else."

--FRANKIE-- "I did and yet there go my cheeks! Right on time." Frankie kept their glass of water near, choosing to sit on their knees to lean in slightly and get a good look at August at work. Something about the whole scenario was very attractive to them and it was probably obvious considering they're gaze never tore away from August. "Oo yes blended sounds amazing." When the drink had been prepared and brought to them, Frankie moved to sit back down on their bottom. "How can I hate the most beautiful thing I've ever seen?!" They chuckled and then gathered some of the cocktail on to the straw before bringing it to their lips for a taste. "Oh my gosh..." Frankie then took one nice, long sip. "So good!! Thank you!! I think I'll have to come in every time you're working."

--AUGUST-- They looked at Frankie's cheeks and grinned. August just wanted to reach out and feel how warm they were when they blushed. "You're so fucking cute," they grinned. It was hard to focus with Frankie watching them, but August was determined to show off a little bit and make sure there was a fancy and delicious drink to put in front of Frankie. While it wasn't a date, they could still flirt. "It's nothing. Just a drink I learned how to make in Hawaii. I'm really glad you like it, though." August grinned widely when Frankie said they might have to come in every time they worked. "I wouldn't be opposed to that. Though you're probably busy with your own work."

--FRANKIE-- Truly, Frankie can't remember the last time they felt so flustered or rather, anyone flustered them. It was like they had met their match in August which, in this case, wasn't a bad thing. Biting their bottom lip at the compliment, they found themselves completely smitten with the bartender. "It is waayyyy better hearing you say it." It was almost too easy, flirting with August and talking to them as if they had been doing this forever. "And this is so impressive! But yeah, you made me forget all about work." Frankie chuckled before taking another sip. "I'll come by when I wrap up." The determination in their voice was evident. Frankie just wanted to see them again. "You know, help you with your blog, bother Raj, state at your cute butt. The usual. And maybe you can take me out for a burger. As gratitude for the blog, of course. No other hidden reason."

--AUGUST-- It was August's turn to blush. They smiled at Frankie and tried to play it off cool, but they were really glad their flirting was successful. It would be impossible not to like Frankie. It wasn't just that they were beautiful, but they were cool, funny, and witty. "Did I? Well, go me," they chuckled. "You can come by anytime. I'll just make sure you know my schedule." August thought Frankie's determination was so cute. They were just as determined to see the other again. "You think my butt is cute, eh? But yeah, no other reason than helping me with my blog." August felt like their smile would never go away in Frankie's presence. "A burger with no ulterior motive. With burgers, we also have to get milkshakes, right?"

--FRANKIE-- Frankie continued enjoying their drink, sipping from the tiny cocktail straw, brown eyes on August as they spoke. "Oh, Raj is going to kill me for being here so often." They giggled softly before taking a break from the beverage. "What? Its a cute butt!! And yea super important. That blog of yours." Frankie smirked, enjoying August's company. Raj was so right. They'd be sure to sing his praises later. "A no ulterior motive burger. Yes with milkshakes and fries. Helps with the business chatter...”

--AUGUST-- “Will he?” August wondered, grinning a bit. “Maybe his plan is working too well,” they chuckled. “Thank you. Thank you very much,” August said and shook their hips a bit. “Mhm. Totally. The blog is super important. As is TikTok.” They were just happy for any excuse to see Frankie. Raj was totally right about them. Frankie was adorable and perfect for them. “That sounds like a great Business Meeting date.”

--FRANKIE-- "I mean, what if I distract you?" Frankie couldn't help but laugh at August moving their hips. "Oh my God. Has anyone ever told you that you're a ham?" Frankie then rested their cheeks on their hands, propping their self up by their elbows. It was like being back in high school again. August was too cute for words and quick with the comebacks. It was nice talking to someone who could easily keep up with them. "And you have to walk me home. Its part of the business transaction protocol..."

--AUGUST-- “I can still do my job and talk to customers, even though I just want to talk to you all night,” August smiled. “Every day of my life,” they laughed and watched Frankie lean their face on their hands. “Is it too much to tell you again how fucking cute you are?” They asked and shook their head. Frankie was someone new, but the way they got along felt like they knew each other forever. It was so refreshing. “I assume holding hands is standard business transaction protocol as well?”

--FRANKIE-- "Oh, gosh. You're killing me." Frankie's voice was just above a whisper, unable to contain themselves much longer. "Well, it's true. You should model with that ham-esque personality of yours." Frankie bowed their head slightly and giggled, their face completely on fire. "It is. It is too much but I'll take it because you're really charming and you remember things like not to give me alcohol..." Frankie's gaze then flickered up to meet August's "Oh absolutely. You have to make sure your business partner is safe. Maybe even do one of those moves where you snake your arm around my waist. To make sure I don't fall into a puddle or something."

--AUGUST-- August wasn’t trying to kill Frankie. Maybe just make them swoon a little bit. “Oh, I don’t think I could ever do that,” they chuckled. “I don’t think anyone has ever called me charming before, but I’ll take it! And of course I remembered. It’s kind of an important thing.” The last thing August wanted to do was ruin anyone’s sobriety. You don’t have to drink to have a good time. they thought. Ironic coming from someone who makes money on the drunkenness of strangers. “What kind of business partner would I be if I let you fall into a puddle? A shitty one, for sure.”

--FRANKIE-- Frankie couldn't help the wide grin pulling at the corner of their lips. "I feel like you'd be better than you think. Maybe you can model for me!" And once again the heat rose against their cheeks. "Oh God, the way that must have sounded..." Frankie chuckled, shaking their head some. "And you're definitely charming so I'll tell you a few times to remind you." Frankie was so smitten at this point, hearing August talk about the importance of sobriety. "You wouldn't believe how many people our age don't get it. They think it's okay to "cheat" a little or whatever. They don't understand." They nodded, smile growing even more. "I want to know more about you. Like, okay...if you could be anywhere right now, where would that be? And what are some of your pet peeves?" They took another sip. "And when you walk me home, you can hang out a bit longer? To discuss more business."

--AUGUST-- “I would, but I don’t think behind this bar is a great runway. I don’t think it sounded that weird,” August laughed. They loved Frankie’s smile so much. It was big and genuine, and they wanted to see it on them all the time. “Thank you,” they grinned some more. August shook their head at the idea of ‘cheating’ on sobriety. “It’s an all-in kind of thing. They don’t get that cheating a little doesn’t happen. I promise that every time you come here to see me, well and Raj, I will make you fancy mocktails.” August smiled at the rapid questions about themself. “More about me? Okay, if I could be anywhere right now, it would be New Zealand. I just really want to go there, but the flight is out of my budget right now. Um, pet peeves are talking with a mouthful of food and blowing noses at the table,” they scrunched their nose. “Yes, I think that would be nice to stay a bit longer. Discuss the private stuff,” August smiled. They loved that they were already planning a second date, even though they technically didn’t have a first one yet.

--FRANKIE-- "Okay, we'll save that for our business date, then." Frankie chuckled, glad that they were able to make August laugh. It was such a nice feeling knowing their company was enjoying having them there. The most interesting thing about all of this is how not once has Frankie overthought anything. There hasn't been an instance of doubt or cynicism. From the very first message, August had already shown just how genuine they were. Frankie couldn't help but beam at the thought of August taking the time to tend to them and make them a mocktail every time Frankie decided to drop in. "I love that. I'll cherish every single one!" Listening to August's answers, Frankie's smile never faltered. "Oh! New Zealand is top of my list because of Lord of the Rings! It looks gorgeous. I have a feeling you'll be able to cross that off your list in no time." The pet peeves made Frankie stick their tongue out and cringe. "Gross. No, thanks. Definitely not a favorite of mine either." Even the trivial questions weren't awkward. "Perfect. I think we'll be perfect business partners, then." Frankie had been leaning in the entire time, taking in their new friend and everything they had to say that they hadn't noticed someone trying to grab August's attention. "I think you have a customer. Go, go, I'm not going anywhere.”

--AUGUST-- "Sounds like the perfect time to show off," August chuckled. They didn't know if it was the fact that this wasn't technically a date or if it was just Frankie being Frankie that made this first meeting wonderful and not awkward. They were usually awful at first meetings, but Frankie seemed to be having a good time. "I'll have to come up with some creative ones so you don't get bored," they grinned. "Yes! That's exactly why I want to go to New Zealand. I mean, there are other reasons to go to the amazing country, but Lord of the Rings is among them. And I'll check out Australia, too when I'm in that part of the world," they said. August was happy they had similar pet peeves. It was always nice to have that stuff in common. "I think so, too." August opened their mouth to say something else when a customer grabbed their attention. "Okay, good." They turned to the next person and made their drinks. August actually ended up making several drinks for several people before being able to turn their focus back to Frankie. "Hello again," they grinned and topped off Frankie's water. "I get to take my break as soon as the next bartender comes in for the late shift. Do you want to come back to the break room with me then and show me the ring light and stuff?"

--FRANKIE-- Frankie's face was beginning to hurt from all the smiling and they were starting to realize that was probably going to be the norm when August was around or texting them. They didn't mind. This was actually such a nice feeling. "Perfect. And honestly, I don't think it's possible to grow bored around you so there's that" When August went off to work, Frankie decided to answer some work e-mails but not without stealing a glance or two. It was impossible not to and it made them slightly nervous thinking just how drawn they seemed to be to August. When they returned, Frankie lit up and locked their phone before setting it to the side. "Hi! Thanks! I like watching you. You're good at your job. I can see them fawning over you." They winked at August and then nodded at their little plan. "I love that idea. I already began setting up your Tik Tok so we just have to add some things and make the first post. " But really, Frankie just wanted to spend more time with them.

--AUGUST-- "Challenge accepted. One of these days, I'll purposely bore you," August teased. Between drinks, August would steal glances at Frankie. Their nose was buried in their phone, doing whatever they were doing. They just hoped they weren't sending out a SOS to someone to save them. August felt certain that their first meeting was going well, though. Finally, when they were able to return to Frankie, they grinned. "You think so? Thank you. There's much more fawning at my other job. But I also wear very tight clothes over there. And sometimes mesh shirts," they chuckled. "Oh really? Fantastic! I'm so grateful you're helping me out." August saw the next bartender come in, and they pointed it out to Raj and the manager on duty. "I'm taking my break!" August took off the half-apron around their waist and came out from behind the bar. "Shall we?" they asked, holding out their hand to help Frankie off the barstool.

--FRANKIE-- Frankie laughed and shouted out to August as they moved around. "You'll be wasting your time." It was funny watching them. All of this seemed so effortless. August was definitely a people person and the patrons loved every single moment. Perhaps Frankie was one of them now. The thought made them chuckle to themselves. "I need to visit you there too, then." Full of relief that the next bartender was ready to begin, Frankie grabbed their phone, tossed it into their bag and the boxed ring light. When August offered their hand, Frankie didn't think anything of it, taking it immediately so that they can step off the stool and the moment Frankie's hand was in August's, they felt a tiny twinge that they had never felt before. It was an unexplainable spike in energy and for a quick second, they wondered if it was the environment. Was it the ambiance? The music? The excitement? It was enough for Frankie to selfishly keep their hand there and they looked up at August with a grin. "Lead the way." They only hope August wouldn't let go until they got to the break room.

--AUGUST-- August smiled when Frankie said they would visit them at Lookout. "Definitely visit there! It's in the Castro. Big, fun gay bar," they grinned. The moment August's took Frankie's hand, they knew they were a goner. Just the simple touch felt like an electric shock to their heart in the best possible way. While they kept telling themself it wasn't a date, August was a bit bold and they laced their fingers with Frankie's as they walked to the break room. It was a short walk, but they wanted to maximize on the time. "Let's sit here," they said and picked one of the rectangular tables where they could sit next to each other.

--FRANKIE-- When their fingers laced together, it was obvious the wedding would be a date, date as Frankie told Celeste they'd try to figure out and while that would usually send them into some headspin, right now they were hyperfocused on how being so close to August made them feel. IT was confusing and invigorating all at once and yet, Frankie was convinced there was no better feeling. "Hm?" They let out a breath they didn't even realize they were holding. It was the best kind of adrenaline rush. how did they manage without this before? "Oh!" Frankie giggled and sat beside August. "Okay. So I---" Frankie pulled out their phone, still slightly out of breath, and passed it to August, opening up the screen to the Tik Tok. "I'll text you all the details but that's what it looks like and we'll post a simple video and introduce you. You're cute so you'll definitely get a following. Is it hot in here?" Frankie fanned themselves and bit their bottom lip, choosing to unbox the ring light, turning it on for August to see. except doing so really amplified how beautiful August was. "Oh...you're. Here let me fix this one curl..." Their words trailed off as they tucked August's hair behind their ear and smiled. "I think the camera really likes you..."

--AUGUST-- They grinned and sat next to Frankie, scooting closer to them. For... business reasons. August took the phone and looked between the screen and back to Frankie. They weren't paying as much attention as they should have been. Frankie was so gorgeous and wonderful. "Ha, I hope I get a following for more than my looks," they grinned. "Oh, it's a bit warm in here, yeah." They didn't know if it was just because they were nervous and excited about being near Frankie or if the A/C in the room was busted again. "Whoa, that's brighter than I thought it would be." The little ring light was probably going to make a big difference. August pressed their lips together for a moment as Frankie tucked their hair behind their ear. "The camera..." they muttered and leaned a little closer to Frankie. Before their brain could even comprehend what their heart wanted to do, August's name was called out by a co-worker who burst into the break room. 'August! What's in a Cuba Libre!?' "What?" they asked, pulling away from Frankie. "Dude. It's a fucking rum and coke with a lime wedge. Isn't Raj out there?" Now that the moment was completely ruined and Kevin disappeared again, August cleared their throat. "Um, sorry about that. So, um... ring light. And - and an introductory video."

--FRANKIE-- The math wasn't mathing. These things take time and precision and a lot of overthinking that would send Frankie into their usual overload. Thinking like that ended with Frankie needing a moment or ten to recover from the literal exhausting of trying to socialize more than the trivial stuff. But this? This was easy. they've been saying that for three and a half days now. Every little ding on their phone made them smile like an idiot and what happened back there? With the hand holding? That was new! But not once did they overthink. Not once did they feel as if this wasn't making sense. Frankie was convinced Raj knew witchcraft or something. And even though their lips were moving, Frankie's brain wasn't processing much. They had just activated their social battery. But everything else seemed to be focused on August and when August leaned in closer, Frankie followed suit. It definitely felt like second nature. Closing their eyes, Frankie's heart sped up only for it to drop into their stomach the moment they heard someone burst in. If this were a show, they'd surely laugh at the situations the main characters had been placed in. This moment, however, was killing them. When the bartender left, Frankie couldn't help but laugh softly. "I don't care about the ring light. I'm sorry." Frankie snorted, letting out another fit of laughter. Without further hesitation, Frankie leaned in and kissed August on the cheek before whispering, "You owe me."

--AUGUST-- Normally, August wouldn't try to kiss someone on the first date, or first not-date, but being next to Frankie and talking with them just felt right. The funny thing was... Frankie seemed to be going in for the kiss, too. Still, August knew they needed to calm their heart down before it leaped out of their chest. "I don't care about it either," August laughed a little and they reached out for Frankie's hand again. If they weren't going to kiss, they at least wanted to hold the other's hand. After Frankie kissed their cheek, they blushed bright red. August was sure it was immediately obvious, and all smoothness they may have had before went out the window. "I- yes. Yes, absolutely. Add it to my, uh... list for being a good business partner."

See the full post

3 notes - Posted July 22, 2022

Outfit for Celeste & Thomas’ Wedding

4 notes - Posted July 22, 2022

August was glad Raj was back from the island. They missed their work dad and watched the whole show, though not week-to-week. They had been traveling a bit while the show filmed and aired. That’s what stopped them from applying. But now that Raj was back, August felt like they were on the show. They heard about what really happened and knew who everyone was. One night they were working at the jazz bar, but Raj wasn’t there. The moment they saw one of the Ship-mates walk in, August smiled widely. “Hi! If you’re looking for Raj, he’s not in tonight. But I’m happy to grab you a drink.”

31 notes - Posted July 9, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

IG DM -> Frankie

August: Hi, I don't even know if you check your DMs because of creeps, but maybe my blue checkmark will get through?

August: I work with Raj. He told me to slide into your DMs.

August: He didn't say that exactly. I don't think he knows what that means. Anyway... hello, I'm August.

54 notes - Posted July 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

0 notes

laughing-with-god · 4 years ago

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The Unsaid Vow (Prologue)

Synopsis- You always knew when you weren't wanted. And the way things are going in your marriage with Jungkook, a divorce is looking more and more likely. While he's getting closer to a woman at work that you're certain he's having an affair with, you're planning your escape with your four-year-old son. However, five years of marriage did not expose you to a certain side of your husband. A side of Jungkook that only gets triggered when you try to leave and break apart your perfect 'family'.

Warnings- Yandere behavior, graphic language, violence/murder, women bashing on other women, heavily implied infidelity, bad parenting, absent father, broken family vibes, very slow buildup bc Jungkook doesn't really snap until you leave him so just give him a min lol, inexperienced author writing for a four-year-old (I never wrote for a kid before pls gimme a break), also I chose my future son's name for this fic but pls feel free to name him whatever you want :)

Slow burn Yandere Husband Jungkook

Word Count; 5.4k

Unlike the vast majority of married couples, neither you nor Jungkook donned wedding rings.

Never in your five years of marriage did you regret this decision, given it was brought upon by you and your husband’s lack of funds for fancy wedding bands at the time of your rushed marriage.

Well, you were never annoyed....until tonight, that is.

The scene before you was exceptionally intimate, so much so that you felt the instinctual need to look away in respect of the two before you.

The woman was gorgeous, effortlessly attracting all the attention the small conference room had to offer. In addition to this natural charisma spurred on by her borderline enchanting looks, her short and skin-tight red dress showed off her pleasantly curvy body. Her long, silky, and jet-black hair was pulled back into an elegant ponytail that provided a simple background for her darling features. Utterly doll-like was her face; petite, creamy in complexion with bright doe eyes and berry-pink lips.

Such a beautiful woman was currently in the arms of an equally, if not more so, attractive man.

He was tall and slender, yet not at all lanky given his sturdy build that was a testament to his strict workout regime. His olive skin was complimented with occasional tattoos, a mix of faded and fresh ink that you knew like the back of your hand despite only the tats on his hand currently showing in his crisp Valentino suit. His mid-length inky black hair was down to frame his sharp face, and indeed it was a very handsome one consisting of full eyebrows, bow-like lips, a fleshy yet impish nose, and two large, yet seemingly bottomless, raven orbs.

This man had his arms encircling the middle of the mysterious woman, her expression lifting into a light-hearted giggle as she leaned forward to whisper something in his ear.

Whatever she said must’ve been amusing to the man, given his usual stoic facade briefly melted away as he allowed a small smile at her words, his pearly round teeth peeking out for a split-second appearance.

If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that these two were lovers.

But there was only one problem with this scene.

That was your husband, Jungkook.

And that woman in his arms was not you.

As if sensing your distress and wanting to soothe your well-founded suspicion, Jungkook pulled away from the woman and ran his gaze across the room- only stopping when he spotted you. Your spouse then gestured at you, the girl following his line of sight and landing on you and your pitiful spot by the snack table. Her joyful expression briefly dropped for a blink-and-you'll-miss-it second, but she quickly plastered on another grin and nodded. The two then strode their way over to you, barely giving you enough time to steel your nerves and muster a polite purse of the lips.

Before you knew it, the woman was right in front of you with your partner at her side instead of yours. Much to your dismay, she was only more attractive up close, and you narrowly held back a grimace as she held out a hand in introduction. You took it and shook it lifelessly.

“Hello, you must be Mrs. Jeon. I’m Sana, Jungkook’s colleague.” Even her voice was pretty, musical and light to the ears.

“H-Hi, nice to meet you but please call me Y/n.” A brief and awkward pause as Sana briefly sized you up and down. “Um, Jungkook has never mentioned you….” you trailed off, side-eyeing your husband in hopes he would intervene and add context to this random goddess he’s thrust upon you.

Jungkook gracefully took his cue and explained, “Sana transferred from another branch out of the city and has only been with us for five months. I’m her case supervisor and have been taking care of her, showing her the ropes and whatnot.”

Sana didn’t even spare you a glance as she fondly looked up at your husband, coyly biting her lip and saying in a much softer tone that could've been just for his ears only, “And he’s been really good at taking care of me.”

You didn’t consider yourself a jealous stay-at-home wife who obsessed over the tiniest details between her husband and other women, but the double meaning behind her badly-whispered comment was enough to make you splutter in disbelief. However before you could even gather up the courage to ask just what the hell ‘taking care of me’ consisted of, two new faces waltzed up and joined the conversation.

“Are you all enjoying this fabulous Christmas party?” A tall, broad-shouldered but nice-looking man asked in a tone of familiar amicability.

You thankfully smiled up at him, having met him many times before.

His name was Jin, and he was the one who got Jungkook this job.

It occurred about five years ago when you first told Jungkook that you were pregnant. Being the romantic but overall good guy that Jungkook was, he insisted that you two get married so that your child could have parents who were at least husband and wife. In addition it would also lessen the judgment in your two families, which at the time was extremely appealing to you. You had agreed to marry on one condition: after running to the courthouse you two would need to move in together in a decent apartment with a room for the nursery. But getting an apartment would mean month-to-month rent, and Jungkook’s tattooing gigs weren’t stable enough to ensure that.

Jin was originally a friend of Jungkook’s older brother, but when he heard through the grapevine about the issue, he bought Jungkook a couple of suits and offered him a job at the corporation he worked at.

Now Jungkook made more than enough money to support your little family, and it was all because Jin took a chance on a college drop-out and his knocked-up girlfriend.

You opened your mouth to respond but were cut off by the unknown lady beside Jin.

“I’d say a little too much fun if anything. Sana and Jungkook, we get that you're the infamous office couple but maybe tone it down a bit, huh?” She joked while raising her brows at the close proximity between the two.

A long and tortuous silence swept the scene.

Jin glanced at you, pity swimming in his usually carefree eyes.

Not trusting your voice to say anything and desperately wanting to hide your face from the piercing eyes, you distracted yourself by taking calculated sips of watered-down eggnog.

“Daehyun...this is actually Y/n, Jungkook’s wife,” Jin told the lady in an uncomfortable voice.

You didn’t know what stung more, the fact that this stranger thought that there was more chemistry between Sana and your husband than with you, or that it was Jin who corrected this mistake and not Jungkook himself.

“O-Oh, well it’s nice to meet you.” Daehyun awkwardly said to you while avoiding direct eye contact.

You offered a tight smile, “Pleasure.”

Whatever gratitude you could’ve had for Daehyun’s clear embarrassment quickly vanished when the woman went on to continue, “I’m sorry. Jungkook never mentioned being married and he doesn’t wear a ring so I didn’t even know. I bet it must be interesting for his housewife to meet his office wife though, right?”

She laughed, not realizing that she only succeeded in putting a foot in her mouth right before stomping it all over your pesky little heart. The group didn’t seem to share your uneasiness, all three of them politely chuckling along to the lukewarm joke at your expense. Once again, you focused on your dwindling beverage to avoid the burden of speaking or even facing them directly, too scared that your miserable expression would be unanimously inspected.

“Well, we just came over to recruit you all for some karaoke!” Jin cheerfully announced, clearly trying to change the subject, “There’s a machine in the break-out room and it’s more fun to sing with a group.”

“More like you want an audience.” Jungkook wittingly teased, a handsome smirk on his face as Sana playfully scolded him with a push to the chest.

“I’ll take your jabs now Kookie because I know they stem from your insecurity that I can actually upstage you in the vocals department.” Jin rebutted in good nature, even letting your husband’s old nickname slip.

Daehyun and Sana both guffawed at this declaration, exaggerated disbelief present on their faces.

“Jungkook is the best singer in the office. He’ll upstage you without even trying.” Daehyun said in a tenor of utter confidence.

“Only one way to find out!” Jin brushed the comment off, pointing to the direction of the assumed breakout room, “Karaoke anyone?”

The so-called office wife nodded enthusiastically, taking your husband’s arm and looking up at him to plead, “Can we do a duet of that one song we like?”

Jungkook, for the first time in seemingly hours, shot you with a questioning gaze.

Be married to someone for a while and you’ll learn how to decipher what they’re trying to say with just mere looks. Your husband was wordlessly inquiring if you were going to join, if he should go along with the group or if you two should break away and do something else.

The ball was finally in your court.

Not wanting to be rude but needing to get away from these people before you lost your cool, you decided on a subtle excuse.

“I need a refill, but maybe we can meet you all later?” You said, shaking your empty paper cup as if to prove your case.

“Oh, well the drinks are right behind you.” Sana condescendingly pointed out, tightening her hold on your husband and began steering him towards the exit, “We’ll save a seat for you.”

Bewildered, you watched as Jungkook obediently followed her lead with the Daehyun girl trailing behind.

He didn’t even spare you a glance.

You wanted to be angry.

You wanted to storm up to your husband, yank him out of the clutches of his colleagues and practically drag him back home under the premise that he would never speak to Sana ever again.

But instead of a righteous rage fueled by the marital vows you two took, utter exhaustion bestowed upon you and prevented any instigation on your part.

Maybe earlier in your marriage you would’ve fought for his attention, but now you simply just wanted to go home and lick your wounds with the help of a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream while self-obsessing over Sana’s outrageous attractiveness. After all, who could blame any hot-blooded man for choosing that goddess over you? What could you possibly do but lean back and accept that she was the obvious choice?

Other than her being a knockout beauty while you were merely average on your best day, she had other qualities that made her a more appealing catch. She was most likely younger than you, obviously fit, more ambitious and professionally driven than you, and presumably has no kids.

Meanwhile, you were just an old stay-at-home mom who lived off of her husband’s paychecks while he fucked his coworkers behind her oblivious back.

Before you could draw more detailed comparisons between Sana and yourself, you felt a large hand place itself on the middle of your back, successfully guiding your attention to the only person who bothered staying by your side.

Jin smiled sadly at you, sympathy shadowing his expression as he gestured with his other hand to the empty cup still in your hold. “Let’s get you some more eggnog.”

You nodded wordlessly, still speechless from the interaction, and allowed the taller man to guide you towards the snack table. Jin then took your cup and refilled it himself, providing you the opportunity to pick at the catered food in some cheap attempt at stress eating. By the time Jin came back with a full cup, you were halfway done with a sugar cookie and eyeing the meatballs next.

“Here ya go,” Jin said as he handed over the drink to you. You took it and nodded in thanks but kept your eyes glued to the food, not wanting him to see just how defeated and tired your face probably was. But, Jin wasn’t going to let the whole thing go. “Y/n….I know what you saw and heard looks really bad but trust me….nothing is going on between Sana and Jungkook.”

You snorted. “It doesn’t just look bad, Jin. It was like they were practically rubbing it in my face. Him having an affair isn’t the problem, it’s the way they’re not even bothering to keep it down. The least they could do is be discreet.”

Jin’s jaw slightly dropped, “‘Him having an affair isn’t the problem’? Y/n, do you even hear yourself? Of course that would be a problem! Do you not care about your own marriage anymore?”

And there it was.

The big question.

Did you truly even care about this marriage?

Well, let’s look at the facts.

One: The disrespect of his alleged mistress was more offensive to you than the fact that she was a mistress.

Two: Jungkook dragging you along to this office Christmas party was the first time in over a year that he bothered to take you out.

Three: You two had humble beginnings and could barely afford food, much less wedding bands when you first got married, but now he was a very wealthy man and had no excuse for not buying you or himself a ring. Unless, of course, he enjoyed acting single around other women.

Four: And on top of all this, it had to be factored in how distant he has been with overwhelming work hours that prevented any alone time with your husband. Sex with Jungkook has been off the table for almost a year now.

But did any of this really bother you until tonight? The answer was a resounding no. You were willing to take all those burdens in stride but tonight it wasn’t just about the fact that you were the unwanted wife Jungkook got sacked with, it was the fact that you were humiliated and forced to face the type of girl Jungkook should’ve been married to all along. That was all you were truly upset about.

The conclusion that you indeed didn’t care about your marriage and haven’t in some time now hit you in a sudden wave, but in no way were you shocked.

Voice shaky and brittle, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with Jin and say the one thing you always secretly thought but never dared utter out loud. “I-I guess I always expected it to end like this. When we were younger, he was always the popular one and all the girls wanted him. We were only dating for three months when I got pregnant, and if it weren’t for our son he probably would’ve dumped me eventually and left for another girl. But, he stuck around for his kid because he’s a good father. And I’ve been nothing but a burden to him for a while now.”

Tears began to blur your vision, forcing you to quickly duck down and quietly sip at your drink so as to not embarrass yourself even more.

You heard a shuffle and suddenly Jin was holding you, using both of his lengthy arms to cage you in and rest you against his broad chest. It had been a long time since a man had held you like that, and you practically went boneless at the contact. You closed your eyes and tried to will away the incoming tears, even going so far as to solely focus on the scent of Jin’s cologne as he soothingly said, “Y/n, listen closely to what I’m about to say. You and Hugo were never a burden to Jungkook, and you two never will be. Your marriage was sudden, but it doesn’t make it less valid than any other marriage out there. Jungkook has been with you for so long, he just doesn’t realize when other women are interested in him because he’s been off the market forever. But I promise you, if I knew for even a second that he cheated, I would tell you right away.”

You didn’t say anything.

Although Jin’s words were comforting, they weren’t necessarily true. A marriage that started from a healthy courtship and true love instead of inconvenient circumstances was of course more valid than yours. And even though you were sure of Jin’s honesty and loyalty to you, Jungkook could’ve easily kept his affair secret from Jin as well.

However, you didn’t wish to concern Jin anymore. You already put him through too much awkwardness tonight and didn’t want to keep him by your side as some sort of emotional sponsor any longer than you already have. Jin always loved parties and was the life of any one he was invited to, even if it was just a lame annual office gathering. You then felt guilty for putting Jin in a situation where he would even have to console you when he should be out enjoying karaoke with the rest of his coworkers.

You promptly pulled away from Jin and wiped at your face. He released you and also took a step back, carefully studying you for any signs of further turmoil. Once sure that your face was acceptably dry, you gazed back up at him and offered a thankful smile. “Thanks Jin, I’m sorry I just dumped all of that on you. I really have to use the ladies' room though, can you point me to it?”

“It’s right by the conference room,” Jin informed, pointing out the general direction for you. You nodded and took a few steps toward it before he grasped your wrist to stop you and ask, “Do you want me to wait for you?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just find you and Jungkook when I’m out. Go and join the others for karaoke.”

Jin nodded but seemed unsure.

You didn’t look back to see if he actually went to follow the others, instead just advancing to the restrooms, secretly looking forward to some alone time even if it had to come from a public bathroom.

Once you entered the restroom you were relieved to find it completely empty, you weren’t sure if you could handle another run-in with Jungkook’s female colleagues. They all seemed to have a personal vendetta against you.

Instantly, you dashed to the mirror to inspect your makeup, assuming at least the mascara was ruined from your little cry. Thankfully, the damage was minimal and you were able to clean the smudges up with a damp napkin. You focused all your attention on the dreadfully small task, trying not to study your reflection too much given it would just conjure up more mental comparisons to all the other prettier women you encountered that night.

Yet the small task couldn’t last a lifetime, and you had to resort to looking at your phone in search of things to do. You weren’t emotionally ready to go out and search for your husband, so you wanted to prolong your time in the bathroom. Although it hasn’t been that long since you left the house, you decided to text the babysitter for any updates about your son.

To Emily: Hey, is everything okay with Hugo?

It only took about 40 seconds for the teenage neighbor girl to text back an answer, clearly on top of things and overly eager to provide any updates.

Emily: Yes! He ate his dinner, took his bath and we’re about to get ready for bed.

Your motherly instincts were satisfied with that response, but it didn’t do anything to subdue your desire to return back home. Your thumbs briefly hovered over the keypad, somewhat hesitant with the next text you were about to send.

To Emily: Great, thanks again for doing this. Listen, I think we might head back home sooner than we thought. Don’t worry tho, I’ll still give you the pay for the full four hours.

Before you could wait for a response from her, the sound of multiple incoming footsteps interrupted the steady silence in the restroom. Muffled female conversation could also be heard, the slight laughter and bickering amongst a group of women approaching the bathroom. Your fight or flight instinct was triggered, and to avoid any more awkward encounters you rushed to the nearest stall and shut the door- fully prepared to wait out the faceless group of female colleagues.

You heard the restroom door swish open before the women burst in, chatting and giggling with their heels clicking against the tile floor. One of the unknown females made way to the stall beside you, the others presumably hovering by the mirror if the sudden comments about their appearances were anything to go by. You quietly sighed and pulled out your phone again, ready to drown out their office politics talk.

Only for the conversation to somehow steer towards you.

“Did you see her?”

“Of course, I was very confused, to be honest.” One of them replied. “I mean….look at Jungkook and you just assume that whoever he’s with is drop-dead gorgeous, and she was just eh.”

“Yeah, she was pretty plain. What was her name again?”

“Y/n.” A third voice cut in, this one eerily familiar to you.

You glued a hand over your mouth to silence your gasp.

It was Sana.

“Did he ever mention her around you? You are the closest to him in the office Sana, and we didn’t even know he had a wife until tonight.”

“No, I didn’t know until tonight either.”

“What?! That’s insane. Literally all the time he spends with you: getting coffee, buying you lunch, driving you home after late nights, and he conveniently never mentions that he has a wife at home?”

“That’s suspicious. But I guess if I had a dog like that at home, I’d never mention her either.”

Cruel laughter from all of them.

The toilet from the stall next to you flushed, then opened as a new voice entered the discussion while she approached the sinks.

“It’s more than suspicious. He doesn’t even wear a wedding ring. And he’s so close to Sana but never mentioned that he’s married?” A pause as she washed her hands. “It’s obvious what he’s trying to do. Jungkook is trying to have an affair with Sana.”

Although this exchange was extremely hurtful to you, you felt somewhat relieved that you weren’t the only one to see what your husband was doing.

A pause hung in the air as none of the women spoke for a minute, they were willing to gossip but apparently outright declaring the obvious was a step too far for them.

Eventually, one of them chimed in with their own observation.

“Can you blame him? Sana you’re the most beautiful person in the office and you look so good next to him anyway. Much better than that cow Y/n.”

Another round of obnoxious laughter that broke your heart.

“C’mon guys. We gotta head back. Jungkook is gonna get anxious if Sana is away for too long.” Someone teased.

They all murmured in agreement, heading towards the exit as a group before one stopped them with a final question.

“Wait, Sana. If Jungkook does want to have an affair with you, what are you going to do?”

Although you couldn’t physically see Sana, you practically heard the smirk on her face as she said, “Who says we already aren’t having one?”

Needless to say, you ditched the Christmas party almost immediately after the bathroom incident.

You texted Jungkook a white lie about Emily struggling with Hugo, although a good father would’ve known something was up because your son had never given babysitters any trouble before. But luckily, your husband also wasn’t doing so hot in the dad department either.

You would’ve felt bad for not telling the truth if the truth wasn’t so fucking embarrassing.

“Hey, I’m gonna go home to cry like a little girl because I caught your coworkers talking shit about me. Oh, and also your little girlfriend accidentally let it slip that you’ve been fucking her this whole time. K talk to ya later!”

You grimaced at the thought of actually sending that text.

Sure it’s what that cheating bastard deserves, but you just weren’t emotionally ready for that fight yet. Especially after the night you endured, you needed some time to pick yourself up and figure out what to do next.

Divorce was the next logical step, but you were financially dependent on Jungkook. If you moved out and took Hugo with you, where would you two stay? How could you afford to be a single parent? And if Jungkook were to try to fight you for custody or the divorce in general, you would need a damn good lawyer. Unfortunately, lawyers weren’t cheap, especially one that stood a chance against Jungkook and all his wealth.

Your shoulders sagged with the imaginary weight of all these burdens.

When you entered the high-rise penthouse that you called home, you were surprised to see Emily anxiously pacing the foyer in waiting for your arrival.

“Hey, how was Hugo?” You greeted politely, already opening your clutch to pull out the agreed-upon salary.

“M-Mrs. Jeon, I swear I tried to have him in bed by eight like you said but he’s being stubborn and said he won’t go to sleep until you come back and read to him-” The teenager rushed out all at once, clearly nervous that you would scold her.

You held a hand out to stop her rambles, using your other hand to give her the money, and offered her what you hoped was a comforting smile, “It’s okay, Em. Thanks for doing this on such short notice. Why don’t you run home now and try to enjoy your Christmas Eve?”

Emily looked relieved that you weren’t mad, gratefully taking the cash before grabbing her jacket and shoes to make her exit. “Thanks so much for this Mrs. Jeon. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas.” You farewelled while walking the young girl out, locking the door behind her.

You turned around and proceeded down a long hallway that led to the bedrooms, stopping at the door beside the master room which belonged to your four-year-old son. You opened it to peer inside, the familiar deep blue walls with painted-on sea creatures greeting you back, swiftly reminding you once more of Hugo’s obsession with the ocean.

Your son was bundled up in a twin bed so big that it practically drowned him, his small frame barely being recognizable in the large fish-printed duvet wrapped around his tiny frame, only his small and adorable face peeking out to stare right back at you.

Hugo was essentially a carbon copy of Jungkook. At first you were somewhat resentful about this, how was it possible that you carried a baby for nine months and he came out with absolutely none of your features? But after a while of watching Hugo grow up and come into his own slowly but surely, you were pacified by the conclusion that while he may look exactly like his father, his personality and heart took after you.

“Dumpling, why did Emily say you were giving her a hard time and wouldn’t go to bed?” You asked gently, sitting by his side and petting his black hair.

‘Dumpling’ was a nickname you chose for Hugo since you first found out you were pregnant with him. It stemmed from your sudden pregnancy craving to eat dumplings and nothing else, you once even going two straight weeks surviving off the food. There were many times where Jungkook had to bribe you into eating other things, playing on your guilt for not providing your baby all the nutrition he needed. But even now ‘Dumpling’ still stuck, if Hugo’s chubby cheeks were anything to go by.

“Mommy, I-I’m sorry but-” His big doe eyes looked up at you in teary guilt, “I really needed you here. It was a nece-necess-”

“Necessity, bub.” You finished for him, grinning at his attempt at a big word.

Part of you wanted to scold the boy for being difficult, but you didn’t have the heart to. Lately, Hugo has been more clingy to you than ever before. Yet it was practically impossible to punish him because Hugo has always been a good kid and you knew deep down that he didn’t act out unless there was something else going on. You suspected that it had something to do with the lack of his father’s presence that forced him to hold onto you like his life depended on it.

“Well try not to do it again, okay? Emily is a nice girl and she’s just following my orders when she tells you to go to bed.” You said, ducking down to peck the crown of his head and continue running your fingers through his hair.

Hugo nodded in understanding but ultimately stayed silent, basking in your cuddles.

All was silent for a passing moment, and while Hugo enjoyed his mother’s touch, your mind gradually returned to the turmoil that was your marriage.

A sudden epiphany struck you and bit your lip as you debated an idea.

Should you expose your son to your future plan?

The victim of any divorce has always been the children who were left behind. And the last thing you wanted to do was blindside Hugo. Perhaps you should play the hypothetical game just to see where your son’s head was at? It went without saying that Hugo was closer to you than Jungkook and you were more of a parent than your husband. But still, every kid deserved to have a say in their parents’ divorce.

“Bub, how would you feel if….it was just me and you?” You hesitantly inquired.

“What do you mean mommy?” Hugo titled his head in bewilderment and craned his neck to look back up at you.

“What if me and you went away to live together?” You clarified.

“Like a va-vayca-”

“Vacation? And no. But forever. Just me, you and no one else.” You whispered, as if Jungkook himself would storm in and catch you planning your escape with the toddler.

“Oh.” A pause as you could practically hear the mechanisms in his four-year-old brain trying to work out the logistics of what you just proposed. “Okay.”

The nonchalance in his youthful voice had you taken aback.

“It’s a really big decision, Hugo. You wouldn’t mind...not living with daddy anymore, right? You would hardly ever see him, dumpling.”

The boy shifted to lean more of his body against you, essentially resting against you with his head on your chest as he said, “But it’s like that already, mommy.”

Your heart broke.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer to you, feeling a maternal instinct to comfort and protect.

“Okay Dumpling. I need you to promise me not to tell daddy what we talked about.”

“”Kay.” Hugo yawned and closed his eyes, inhaling deep breaths of your scent and beginning the process of falling asleep. “When do we leave?”

“It’ll take some time, bub. You start school in a few months, so mommy will try to find a job while you’re there.” You told him, not bothering to try to explain the concept of a lawyer or apartment deposits on top of that. “But we can do this. It has to be a secret but you're my partner in crime.”

“Like spies?”

You chuckled, “Yeah, like spies. Promise to work with mommy in utter secrecy?”

You held up a pinky, one that Hugo grasped with his own.

“Promise.”

Author’s Note: So....A while ago before I took my long ass hiatus, I did a poll for which yandere story I should write next. The Unsaid Vow won but that was around the same time that shit hit the fan in my life. Recently was scrolling through my notes on my phone and found some of the plot points for this story and I needed a lil break from QQ. Plus I know so many ppl were hyped for this concept so....Here ya go lol. This is kinda short but it’s just a set up, Chapter one’s plot line will start a few months after this when Hugo will start kindergarten and Y/n will actually start looking in to jobs, lawyers and apartments. Also I’m sorry but I’m really bad at writing for kids lol, and I absolutely refuse to write that gross ass baby talk so just pretend your son is a lil genius okay? Also srry Once but I needed really pretty girls to be villians in my story so yeah, Twice girls in here aren’t likable but aren’t reflective of how i actually feel about them lol.

Big thanks to @sushireads once again for creating the cover art for this fic. They literally are becoming my go-to for fic art.

And my beta readers @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop! They beta’d for QQ and I came to them really early about this fic. They were with me since the beginning and have given me advice with creative choices to just simple grammar. They easily could’ve leaked the first draft of this too but they didn’t and kept it secret for a while. I was really insecure about getting out of my comfort zone with this plot but they really guided me.

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years ago

Text

*CHICAGO*

i write for free - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here. (plus my bday is today!!!!!!! 🎂)

if you liked please reblog, recommended, like, and come talk to me about it!

——

The public didn’t know that some of the pictures that are posted of Harry that are tagged and credited to the on tour photographers were actually taken by his wife.

For example, after Chicago, the picture of Harry in the tub - completely bare and worn down from his show, you actually think the photographer took that?

No, that was snapped with YN’s iPhone, like some of the other pictures he’s posted.

Just like the one where he’s asleep on the hotel bed in a robe in Paris with all of his stuff splayed around him - allegedly taken by helene. ***

But no, it had been his wife, they had just taken a shower together and she had stayed in for a bit longer to shave her legs - when she had come out and seen him passed out.

She had to tug a bit at the robe so he wasn’t exposed and make it x-rated, then she pulled out her phone and snapped the picture - sending it to Jeff with a teasing caption.

yn: It’s exhausting being a popstar

And just like that, it appears on his Instagram for fans to go crazy over.

Or what about the snapshot of his tank that had his famous slogan embroidered into the side of the white fabric. ***

His wedding band reflecting in the flash of the light, a subtle glance at his rippled muscle below the attire as they work on his hair.

“Mm, I’m gonna save this for a lonely night,” YN jokes as she tucks her phone away.

Harry’s hand comes to cup her jaw, looking down at her where she’s sat on the floor, “Y’so fuckin’ pretty, y’know that?”

YN’s eyelids flutter a bit as she glances away from his intense gazes - he still gives her butterflies.

“Don’t get shy on me, baby. Can I not tell m’wife how gorgeous she is?” He asks, bring her hand up to kiss the back of it, “Look s’good with tha’ ring on.”

And the one that made fans go crazy.

On a warm evening, in a hotel room between venues in Italy, where they had been lounging around all day.

YN in just a thin gauzy dress that accentuated the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra and Harry just in the trousers he’d worn to get them coffee earlier that morning.

“You just took a picture of me! It’s my turn,” YN giggles, getting on her knees on the old squeaky couch and snatching the camera off of him.

“I took a picture because y’tits look nice in tha’ dress. I can see y’nipples and it’s turnin’ me on,” Harry defends, holding up his book as she snaps it.

“H, c’mon,” She pouts but squeaks when Harry tugs her into him, dropping the book and the camera as he adjusts her on his lap.

“Gonna let me take a picture of y’all nice and fucked out, darling?” He rasps, ignoring her pout and hiking her dress up her hips.

And it’s happened throughout the years, so many pictures that were littered over the internet where just uncredited snapshots from YN.

Just like the one from 2013, they were on tour, and Harry was supposed to be recording for the next album after soundcheck and before the concert. ***

Instead, after soundcheck, Harry and YN had snuck off to a little meadow and lake to have a swim. He had shimmied down to his briefs and waded in.

YN stood back, snapping a picture of him and his friend as the complained about how freezing cold it was.

“Baby, c’mon. Come get in!” Harry had shouted back to his girlfriend on the dry land, “I need some warmth, s’freezing!”

YN grimaces, just in Harry’s shirt and a pair of yoga shorts, dipping her toe in and shaking her head - “I’ll enjoy from here!”

“Please, bug,” He pouts, motioning for her to come in.

She does after a moment, squealing at the temperature before quickly finding her way into Harry’s arms.

“Only have fun on tour when y’with me,” He had murmured into her ear before he dunked her underwater and they play fought until their stomachs hurt from laughing.

And then came the notorious picture that had gotten a million likes in thirteen minutes, oh, the chicago ice bath.

Harry had been achey since tour had begun, constantly complaining about his back and ankles from the shows.

“Baby, just rub m’back a lil’ longer please?” He had whimpered the night before, the tour bus bed did not help him much at all.

When his trainer had recommended an ice bath immediately after the show - YN had made sure to arrange it despite his protests.

After exiting the stage in his black and lilac outfit, he’d been lured into the bathroom with a promise of sex but instead was a steel tub filled with ice water.

Jeff, Lambert, Tommy - everyone was watching on in amusement as he adamantly tried to deny that it would help and the peer pressure wasn’t make him anymore convinced.

“Alright, everyone out,” YN had finally tittered, shooing out the circus before closing the door for privacy.

She helps strip her husband out of his close as he looks at her reproachfully, “You promised me sex.”

“After,” YN assures him, kissing his puffy lips and asking softly, “Just try it, if it doesn’t work - you don’t have to do it again.”

He grumbles a bit, muttering, “Don’t look at m’bits, they’re gonna shrivel up.”

YN giggles, “As if I haven’t seen your bits in every shape and form.”

As he slips in, YN has to snap a picture of his eyes wide and lips pursed at the shock of the freezing water cooling down his hot, sticky skin.

“Holy fucking shit,” Harry hisses, lowering self until he’s sat - his nipples instantly hardening and he’s breathing roughly out of his nose.

“Five minutes, I’ll set the timer,” YN says, setting it on her phone before sitting down next to the tub as he tries to relax.

“Baby, fuck. Reminds me of that really cold lake in Boston, ‘member?” He squeezes his eyes shut and reaches until YN intertwines their hands.

“Yeah, that wasn’t as cold as that one time you convince me to skinny dip with you on the coast of france.”

“Oh yeah, that one was really fucking cold too,” Harry murmurs, keeping his eyes closed and steadying his breathing.

(During WWA tour - ***)

“Harry, are you insane? Anyone could see us? Paul could walk out or the boys. I’m not-“

She’s cut off when Harry shucks off his swimsuit bottoms, his skin’s glowing in the moonlight and the light waves lapping at the shore are soothing.

YN swallows harshly, tries not to stare at how handsome and overwhelming beautiful he is as he turns to step towards the water.

She looks over her shoulder nervously before stepping out of her one-piece, he waits for her at the shoreline.

“Y’so so stunnin’,” Harry tells her, thumbing at the soft curve of her breast and leaning in for a soft kiss when he feed her shake.

“You could have anyone,” YN whispers against his lips, “Every girl on this earth wants you like this. I’m just some girl from before all this,” she motions to the extravagant bungalow they’re staying at.

“I don’t know why y’think tha’s bad. I want t’experience all this with you, m’first love and m’only love. I’m going to marry y’soon, you know tha’?” He replies, lips tracing the curve of her neck.

“You better,” She giggles, hands going to his shoulder as he sucks a mark into the thin skin.

He pulls back with a frown, “M’not jokin’, I don’t care that we’re young - M’gonna do it.”

“I can’t wait,” YN kisses his jutted out lip, squealing when he tugs her into the water and the chilled waves crash against her hips, “H, it’s so cold.”

“M’gonna keep y’warm, hush up,” He titters, pulling her into his chest until her breasts are smushed against his strong pecs and his arms are around her shoulder, “Love experiencing this w’you, everythin’ w’you.”

YN is brought back from her daydream by her husband wiping his finger under her eyelid, “Darling, wha’ is it?”

She hadn’t realized she had teared up thinking of the fond memory, “I want to go back to that bungalow. We had such a good time. I…I just love you.”

His wife chuckles like she’s pathetic for crying about it but he leans out of the tub, cupping her jaw and pulling her in for a hard kiss.

“Don’t be embarrassed, flower,” There was no teasing in his voice, it was sincere, “If anyone should be embarrassed - I’m the one who travels around the world t’sing love songs ‘bout you.”

Their lips join again, his tongue finding its way into her mouth when Jeff, Lambert, and Tommy barge through the door.

“Jesus Christ, only you could be trying to get some while sat in an ice bath,” Jeff scoffs with a smile but instantly knows they’ve fucked up.

“Get out, the fuck?” Harry sits up, “Don’t interrupt me and m’wife. Get out!”

They stumble out and just then the alarm goes off.

YN helps him out, tucking him into a towel and helping him dry off - his head tucked into her neck and hand on her belly - massaging.

“Do you feel any better?” She hums while getting some stray droplets on the nape of his neck as he nuzzles into her warm skin.

“Mm,” He agrees drowsily, hand slipping under her shirt for more heat and she jumps at his icey touch, “Want t’sleep.”

And when they get to the hotel, YN logs onto his Instagram and uploads the ice bath pictures with nobody knowing the story behind it.

Hope you enjoyed!

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collecting-stories · 3 years ago

Text

Married - Jay Halstead

Request: I just have to say… Im obsessed with everything you write!! could you do a jay halstead imagine where they are secretly dating and no one knows and the reader just shows up with a whole ass engagement ring and wedding band (she secretly got married with jay) and the unit is confused as they always thought the reader was single. Uo to you if they decides to tell them then and there or wait a few more weeks. Maybe they decide to do a bigger wedding for friends and family. Also maybe do a scene about the secret wedding (much like matt and gabby tried to do minus all of 51 showing up). Maybe just like sylvie and will as a witness since they’re the readers and jay’s best friend/brother?

A/N: I’m rewatching all of Fire/PD/Med with my fam right now and my sister (who told me she didn’t wanna watch them and wouldn’t like them) is obsessed!

One Chicago Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

When Jay had first suggested (proposed was probably the better term) marriage to you it had felt like someone knocked all the air out of you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to get married (or that you didn’t have a whole pinterest board specifically dedicated to the wedding you pictured for the two of you) just that you’d only been dating for a year and a half, hadn’t even finished moving in together, and had only suffered through one uncomfortable dinner with your dad and stepmom.

You knew people who married quick (as you thought of it). Bible kids who wanted to get laid but couldn’t until they were married. You’d known plenty in highschool, had watched half your graduating class get hitched before they turned 21, and you’d thought it was insane. You had a million protests to why this all seemed like a terrible, rushed, idea. You were half tempted to ask if he’d suffered some head trauma you didn’t know about. But instead you said yes because that was your first gut reaction to Jay asking you anything at all. Yes, of course, whatever you want to do. Marriage, kids, hell you would’ve moved to Antartica if Jay suggested it.

There was only one hitch in the plan...you and Jay had never exactly gotten around to telling anyone in the unit that you were together. You’d been at 21 working beat when Jay’s (very well known) relationship with Erin imploded. You’d heard all the gossip and gotten the actual story from him months later after you were transferred upstairs. If you were wary of interoffice romances before, hearing about theirs had turned you off the idea altogether. Almost altogether, but then it was impossible to deny that you had feelings for Jay.

“Whoa...what is that?” Adam asked, grabbing your hand in the middle of you typing a report, lifting your arm up over your head so he could examine the modest engagement ring and wedding band on your ring finger.

“What’s what?” You asked, looking away from him as you closed your eyes. You had been in a rush to leave the apartment that morning and you’d left your rings on. Adam noticing it was the first time you noticed. When you cast a glance across the room to Jay he only smirked, eyebrow raising as if he was laughing at you.

“Uh, that,” he held your hand in front of your face, “you been holding out on us, I thought you were single this whole time.”

“I never said I was.” You replied, pulling your hand away and placing it in your lap.

Adam looked suspicious before turning his attention to Jay, “you seen this? Did you know she was seeing someone?”

“News to me,” Jay replied, smiling at you.

“Man, you didn’t even tell your partner you were seeing someone?” He asked, “so...who is it? Somebody in 21? Or like a firefighter or somebody?”

You pushed your chair away from the desk and stood up, slipping both rings off your finger to put in the top drawer. It didn’t really matter if you took them off now, Adam would no doubt tell everyone in the building that you were married. “I’m gonna grab a coffee,” you announced, grabbing your jacket off the back of your chair and heading for the stairs.

Adam watched you walk down the stairs, still a little dumbfounded by the sight of a ring on your finger, before turning to Jay, “did you know she was married?”

“mmhmm?” Jay hummed, looking up as if he didn’t know what just happened.

“I mean, you’re her partner...I’m sure she tells you that kinda stuff right?” Adam asked, “kinda always thought you had a thing for her though.”

“Thought you and Atwater were meeting a CI this morning?” He replied, trying to deflect.

“Yeah, yeah...”

By the time you reached corner of the block you heard the quick thud of footsteps behind you and felt someone grab your arm, turning you around once you reached the pavement. Jay stood there in front of you, smug expression still on his face as his eyes met yours. The minute Ruzek had headed for the back stairwell Jay had gone after you.

“Why didn’t you tell me I still had my ring on?” You whispered, leading him further away from the precinct.

“I didn’t notice.” Jay insisted, though the smile he was sporting told you otherwise.

It had been something of a debate between the two of you over when exactly you were going to tell everyone. You already suspected that Voight knew you were more than just partners but he hadn’t outright addressed the relationship to either of you, as far as you knew. And while you were both in agreement that you wanted to come clean, especially now that you were married, there was the matter of timing.

“When I said I wanted to tell everyone I wasn’t envisioning a Monday morning recap of the weekend with Ruz.” You replied, “more like a nice party at our place.”

“I don’t think the venue is gonna change anything.”

You knew he was right. You’d wanted to keep the relationship a secret from the beginning, at first worried that it wouldn’t actually last and then, as time went on, not sure how to explain that you’d been together for so many months without telling anyone. When you finally got married, Jay had suggested that you could at least let Voight know but you felt guilty. All the times Kim had commiserated with you about single life when you weren’t single at all. The only person who actually knew you were dating, besides Will, was Slyvie and she’d been sworn to secrecy.

“At least we don’t have kids right?” Jay joked, smiling when you smacked his arm, “I’m just saying, imagine trying to explain a couple kids too.”

“You’re a pain in the ass Jay,” you huffed, “I’m not gonna have to tell anyone we’re married cause I’m gonna get a divorce.”

“Come on,” Jay said, ignoring your comment, “come back inside before you freeze to death.”

“Is Adam still upstairs?” You asked. You reached for your ring to fiddle with it only to remember you’d left it in your desk.

“He left to meet up with Kev.”

You groaned in annoyance, “he’s gonna tell Kev and then everyone is gonna know.” You replied, “I’ll have CIs calling to congratulate me.”

Jay looked like he wanted to argue your point but instead he just nodded, “you’re probably right.” Glancing back behind him to make sure that you were far enough from the precinct, he put his hands on your upper arms, squeezing gently and leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead. “I’m sure Voight’s in by now...lets head in, we can at least tell him before Kev does.”

“He’s gonna be the most pissed,” you mentioned, heading back toward the precinct with Jay.

“I doubt that.”

“Oh god please, he totally sees you as like, a surrogate son. Especially now. There’s no way he’s not gonna be a little miffed that we didn’t tell him we were seeing each other.” You replied, “And Trudy...she probably already knows actually.”

“How would she know? You didn’t put in for a name change-”

“And I’m not going to,” you reminded him. “It doesn’t matter though, she knows everything about everyone. All the time.”

Jay rolled his eyes, pushing open the door to 21 and heading inside. Your thoughts were practically confirmed for you when you walked in and realized Trudy was leaning against the desk watching the two of you, that all knowing look in her eyes. You pushed down the nerves in your stomach that felt like flares going off as you passed through the gate, listening to it clang shut behind you.

When you’d only been dating, that feeling had been as intense as it was now. You’d walked up the stairs to intelligence every day thinking that it was going to be the day they all found out you and Jay were together. You’d worried so much about it in the beginning that you almost thought about transferring. But you loved 21 and intelligence and Jay had been convincing in his arguments that you should stay. That the two of you worked well together and he didn’t want another new partner.

“Hey,” Jay grabbed your arms as you turned around at the top of the stairs, “where do you think you’re going?”

“I can’t do this,” you whispered.

“You bust through doors for a living and you’re afraid to tell Voight we’re married?”

“You’re married?” Kim’s voice echoed the end of Jay’s sentence and you turned your head to look at her, standing there at the top of the stairs, holding a file folder in her hands, eyes wide. “To each other?”

Between the time that Jay had left to find you and both of you had walked back to the precinct, everyone but Atwater and Ruzek had gotten back. Kim, Antonio, Rojas, and Voight were all there in the bullpen, running down the information that they had so far on the case they were working. Though now, all eyes were on the two of you. How had you not noticed them?

Jay spoke up first, “we didn’t want anyone to know we were seeing each other, then it just kinda snowballed into this.”

“When did you get married?” Voight asked, unreadable expression on his face.

“A couple weeks ago,” you admitted, “it was just at city hall. We wanted to have a small get together, like a reception, maybe at Molly’s with everyone?”

Jay tapped on the bathroom door for the third time, biting at the inside of his cheek as he checked the time on his watch. Thirty minutes to get to city hall, to the fourth floor. Will had already texted to say that he was on his way there. Sylvie had off so Jay imagined that she was already there too, probably camped outside in her excitement over the nuptials.

Of course, it was hard to get married when the couple was still in their apartment. Jay was tempted to knock a fourth time but he resisted the urge, calling your name instead.

“I’ll be right out!” You promised, frowning at your reflection as you turned to the side. While an actual wedding dress was out of the question, you still felt the nagging voice of your mom in the back of your head, urging you to wear something white. So you’d found a short dress, with a sweetheart neckline and a sheer, long sleeve overlay, that looked really pretty on you. At least according to Sylvie, who had gushed about it for three days after you bought it. But you’d bought it while it was still fairly warm outside. “We’re taking your truck, right?”

“Yeah, assuming you make it out the front door before we’re late!”

You rolled your eyes at Jay’s dramatics, unlocking the door and cracking it open enough that you could see him standing there. “Look a little more excited Jay, this is our wedding day,” you said, catching the look of concern as he checked his watch one more time.

“Which is exactly why I wanna be on time.” He replied, looking up at you. A silver of white and your head through the crack in the door but nothing else, “Are you coming out or...”

Stepping back so you could pull the door open the rest of the way, you stood in the entryway of the bathroom in your dress, hair and makeup fixed to (somewhat) withstand late fall in Chicago, and barefoot. Your shoes were by the front door though you were tempted to put on a pair of uggs and call it a day because walking outside in white heels in this weather was asking for frostbite.

Jay’s reaction was absolute speechlessness. He usually had a quip for everything and he’d spent the entire morning reminding you of the time so you were mildly surprised that he couldn’t find a single thing to say when you walked out of the bathroom. Instead he just openly stared at you, that soft look he always got that made your heart feel like it was going to beat right out of your chest the only manageable expression on his face, like he was so loved up he didn’t have the words for it.

“You know we’re gonna be even more late if you’re just gonna stand there and stare at me,” you pointed out, starting to walk passed him toward the bedroom door. Before you could, Jay grabbed your arm. “Don’t say anything to me that will make me emotional Jay, then we’ll never make it!”

“I was just gonna tell you that I love you,” Jay replied, leaning forward and kissing your forehead, mainly to avoid getting yelled at for kissing you when you had lipstick on already.

“I love you too, but we’re gonna be late.”

“Now you care about the time,” he laughed, letting go of your arm so you could grab your shoes. Jay followed you out to the front door, pocketing your phone and your wallet for you, checking the text from Sylvie first, asking where the two of you were. “Sylvie and Will are there.”

“Told you!” You sing-songed, reaching a hand out for him to steady you as you slipped your heels on.

“You’re gonna freeze your ass off in this weather, you realize that right?” Jay asked, helping you slip your longer coat on. A puffy monstrosity (as Adam had once referred to it) that went all the way down to your calves. It offered a little extra warmth to your legs as you opened the front door and a gush of cold Chicago air blew into the house.

“Yeah but I look good, would you rather marry me in jeans?”

“I don’t really care, I’d marry you in sweatpants,” Jay replied, “you look beautiful-”

“Nice save.” You laughed, heading out first for the truck while Jay locked the door behind the two of you. “Come on Halstead,” you called as you opened the truck door, “lets go get married.”

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herweirdass · 3 years ago

Text

secret girl 2 | jb

previous part! also requested…

y/n and joe were happy with their engagement. they immediately began planning their destination wedding. looking at venues, at dresses, & suits. the one thing they didn’t discuss was their seating charts. which would mean having to tell their families & eventually the public.

y/n only wore her ring around the house in fear someone from work or anyone else would ask. it would just upset her even more. even though joe was just trying to protect them and their relationship, she felt more like a secret than a fiancé. she hadn’t expressed her feelings to joe, not wanting to start an argument. she hated confrontation. especially with joe.

one day she was lying in joe’s bed scrolling on tik tok. she came across a sound that she liked so she took the phone to the bathroom and propped it up doing the little dance. she mindlessly posted it without taking notice of her ring or where she was. she returned to his bed and turned on the tv. she began to doze off from whatever show was on. ‘i’ll be home later, love u.’ read a text from joe. she responded and soon fell asleep waiting for him to arrive.

y/n had awoken to the sound of the front door slamming and joe coming into the room angrily. “what the hell y/n! did you do this?”

“what?” she was genuinely confused on what she had done to make him so angry.

“check your phone.” there were numerous texts & calls from everyone she knew, her socials were blowing up, and before she had time to process what was going on a call from her mom came through.

“hi ma,” she answered. she was immediately pestered with questions on how the whole world knew that she was engaged before she did. “mom it was an accident, i was gonna tell you i swear… yeah i love you too, bye.”

y/n threw her phone to the side and sighed realizing what posting that video had done. “baby i swear i didn’t mean to.”

“you still went behind my back y/n! why did you even post the video?!”

“so what you just planned to keep our relationship a secret for forever?“ y/n asked as she began to become angry. she just couldn’t understand why he was so upset. it wasn’t even like she posted the video deliberately. it was a genuine accident.

“y/n, you know that isn’t true.”

“is it really? because we’ve been dating for almost three years joe. three! how do you keep someone from your family for three years? we haven’t even talked about whether they’re going to be at the wedding or not!”

“wow. it sounds like you’ve been feeling this way for a while now. if you had this many doubts about our relationship, why didn’t you say anything?”

“joe i didn’t mean it that way. i just meant that-,”

“no it’s okay y/n, i know what you meant.” joe grabbed his keys and left their bedroom leaving y/n alone with her thoughts.

her feelings were hurt. she wanted nothing more than to just scream and cry but instead, she opted to doing something more productive. she cut some music on & began to clean. she cleaned their bedroom, then the bathroom, did laundry, & dishes, straightened the guest room, and finally their closets.

she stopped for just a moment to check her phone when she saw that joe had uploaded a video to his instagram story.

“hi everyone, umm… i just wanted to come on here and say that yes, y/n is my fiancé. we’ve been together for about three, almost four years now. she’s an amazing person. she deserves the world and it was wrong for me to keep her a secret for all this time and i apologize to her, our families, and our friends for that. i just didn’t want something so genuine and pure to be ruined by such a judgmental thing. but yeah, that’s it i guess.”

y/n closed the app in tears. she knew it was hard for him to address that and how much he didn’t want the media involved. that made her love him even more. she sent a simple text to her boyfriend & resumed cleaning their closet, awaiting his arrival.

‘i love you joe’

‘i love you more y/n, forever.’

#joe burrow #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader

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duskthevampqueen · 3 years ago

Text

Blooming Weddings

So I was given this idea from the fanserver a couple days ago, and just had to go with it. I have overall headcanons for the side characters along with the details like Best Man/Maid of Honor, and then I have each of the boys. I will let you know that Nightowl has two headcanons, because I couldn't pick which one I liked better.

Please enjoy!

Gender Neutral Reader

Overall

One thing I just have to include is that I believe Salo and his wife Mara would act as parental stand-ins for Toast, Quest and Nightowl. Possibly yourself, too, if you do not have a close relationship with your family. They don't do it as much with Xyx since he has his supportive parents, but they do keep a close eye on him through Salo's account on the server to see if they need to speak to his parents about something.

They would go to the ends of the earth for the newlyweds, and act as a source of reassurance for you. They’ve been through enough actual parental roles with their own kids’ weddings that they basically get the drill by the time they’re asked by your LI or yourself to fill that position.

I imagine Mara to have this very gentle, very kind but stern presence about her, and acts as the “look you need to make the decision” person whenever the two of you have difficulties with wedding planning, while Salo is happy and reassuring saying “don’t worry everything will go well”. They’re the ones to first step in if they notice even a hint of nervousness on anyone’s part. They cry like actual parents would on their kids’ wedding days.

The entire server gets invited to every wedding. I imagine June being the flower girl, and Two2 being the ring bearer, both to any of the weddings depending on what you and your LI decide. Onion would attempt to help with any planning possible, especially the financial side, while BigLady would offer to be the Maid of Honor to anyone who would like it or need one. The other three LIs are the LI of choice’s groomsmen, with Xyx and Toast being each other’s Best Man, and Quest and Nightowl being each other’s.

Toast

He would wish for a smaller, family and friends wedding. He doesn’t bother to invite his actual parents, as he knows they won’t come anyways. He gets extremely anxious when you brought up asking Salo and Mara, but after some reassurance from you, he does so and is visibly relieved when they accept immediately.

They have some inputs on important things like the ceremony and what should be done during the reception. But they leave things like color scheme, decorations and that sort up to you. While they wanted it to be their happiest day, they knew it would be as long as you were marrying them, they would be extremely happy.

You two had decided to walk down the aisle together, not really the ones for traditionality. But when it came to you two actually meeting outside the main hall before the ceremony, you hadn’t expected him to be completely frozen. And then start crying. Which caused you to start crying, which is probably not a good look for both the soon-to-be-newlyweds to be crying outside the main hall.

“I’m sorry, honey, you just look… You look perfect, God…” They mumbled, moving close to you so then the words could only be heard between the two of you. “I can’t believe it's actually all coming true. You’ll be my spouse after this.”

You mumbled reassurances and mutual feelings back to him til it was time to walk down the aisle. He offered his hand, sniffling a bit as he smiled big and whispered, “Ready to spend the rest of your life with me?”

Xyx

The opposite of Toast, he wanted everyone to know you two were getting married. He would want to invite anyone you two were even acquaintances with. He didn’t care about the cost, he knew he could handle any cost if it meant that as many people as possible could see you two securing your love for life. He would also make it as lavish as possible while still respecting your wishes about it.

He had big opinions about some things, like the ceremony. His legal side showed especially when it came to the vows, making sure the two of you had it all down in writing and you both agreed on the vows. While he understood it was meant to be sentimental, he wanted that to be saved for the speeches of the reception. He knew he would make everyone either laugh, or cry with his speech to his adoring spouse.

The two of you had decided to do a first look where it was just the two of you. Some of the others were pushing for the photographer to be there, but he wanted to keep that special moment between you. He didn’t want to hide his true feelings from you on the wedding day, especially when it took him so long to get used to showing them around you. And it went exactly as he thought it would.

The instant he had turned around to see you in your wonderful wedding outfit, dressed to the nines and looking as if the gods had blessed you with everything they could possibly imagine, he couldn’t help the way it made his heart soft. He could only smile as he slowly moved closer to wrap his arms tight around you, gazing at your face like you were his world. And in that moment, you were.

“Doll… You make me feel like I’m the most lovesick and most lucky man in the world…” He mumbled, his eyes flickering over your face as they shone with love. “How do you do that, hm?”

Quest

He also wished for a small wedding. A small wedding at a chapel or at a small venue, where it could be very personal. Everyone from the server gets invited, of course, but depending on if you have your friends or family involved, they would all sit on Quest’s side, since it would otherwise be empty. He doesn’t mind it one bit, however, because they’ve been his closest friends all these years.

He would like to keep everything quite simple but elegant. Lots of the decorations would either be handmade, second hand, or bought by Xyx or Toast in contribution. It was mainly handmade, having made the decorations in your guys’ spare time of the past few months, sitting together and talking while making them at the dining room table. It was something that reassured him that he was doing the right thing, and something he looked forward to on his days off or when he could get off work at a reasonable time. It was your guys’ version of the perfect wedding.

You decided together that you wanted to do the traditional walk down the aisle, with you either going down it with Salo, Nightowl, or your own family member of your choice, if you decided not to walk alone. You teased him about how you knew he was going to get choked up without doing a first look, but he reassured you he wouldn’t mind it one bit. You were right, of course, as the moment that the doors opened to the main hall and he saw you, he was smiling and crying to keep his tears from spilling over.

When you reached him, he took both your hands gently in both of his, sniffling a bit in happiness. You had gotten to the point of tears at that point, too, having to laugh or giggle through it to make sure both of you didn't start crying at the altar while the officiant chuckled and let the two of you take your time. You could feel the eyes of your friends and family, although they were simply appreciating the love displayed in front of them.

When Quest got a handle of himself, he murmured to you. “You look stunning, angel… Let's finally make what we’ve worked towards after all this time come true.”

Nightowl

When you first started planning the wedding, he was the most conflicted on how big or small he wanted it. Mainly because he knew there was almost minimal chance that he could get out of inviting his parents to the wedding. He was stuck on that for ages as he knew he wanted a special wedding, but he knew that if he told his parents that he was getting married, they would take it over and make it how they wanted it to be. He was stressing over it more and more every day.

It wasn’t until Xyx made a joke did he realize one last option: Eloping. Why hadn’t you two thought of that sooner? After you both doing some research into it, and making sure it was absolutely something the two of you wanted, you started planning. You would go to the townhall and get officiated, before going on your guys’ honeymoon. With this plan, you were able to put much more time and thought into your honeymoon, doubling the time you two spent on it.

He had practically been jumping with excitement when waiting to be able to sign the official papers. He had rented a simple suit specifically for this, and you had gone and either done the same, or gone short dress shopping or borrowed from a family member. He couldn’t help how much he was smiling as he gazed at you while attempting to pay attention to the officiator.

When you two had finally been able to sign the papers, making the two of you legally married. He was so over the moon that he immediately leaned over and gave you a big kiss, not able to hold back anymore at that point. When he leaned back, he took your hand and guided you out of the town hall with a giant smile.

“C’mon, cutie! While we do have the rest of our lives together, I can’t wait any longer to have you all to myself.”

Nightowl 2

He has the same struggle with his parents in this one. But in this one, Toast makes a suggestion: trick his parents. While he knew there was a risk that they could get mad at him for not telling them it was his wedding instead of some sort of family gathering, he admitted it was ten times better than trying to fight his mother off from her trying to take over the planning. So he got the big celebration he wanted without having to sacrifice his plans. And if anything went sour on the wedding day, he had Quest, Salo and Xyx there to keep them back.

He was at your side at every step of the planning process. While at some points he had no or very little input, he wanted to help you as much as possible, and made sure that you were going through the planning how you would spend the rest of your lives: together. His big thing is that he wanted to make sure that the cake was big and the dance floor would be amazing.

You had also planned to do a first look, but your future husband had other plans. You were still getting ready in your dressing room when you got a knock at the balcony window, startling you. When you looked over, there you saw Owl, sheepishly grinning, in his wedding attire but very clearly wanting to be let in. Luckily for you, the others that had been previously been helping you get ready had gone to make sure everything else was ready, so when you opened the balcony door, it was just the two of you.

You immediately questioned him on how the hell he got up on the balcony, in which he was barely able to speak fully as he admitted that his dressing room was just a few balconies over and he was able to hop over a few to get there. And then he spoke fully, his excitement and happiness very clear, amazed as he stared at you.

“I just couldn’t wait to see you, cutie. I… can’t believe you’re in front of me, looking perfect. I just know I’m going to be the happiest man alive married to you. I love you so, so much.”

#bloomic #blooming panic #blooming panic quest #blooming panic xyx #bp quest #bp xyx #quest #blooming panic nightowl #bp nightowl #nightowl #blooming panic nakedtoaster #bp nakedtoaster #nakedtoaster #xyx blooming panic #wedding #headcanons #fanfic #head full #bloomnini

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metalomagnetic · 2 years ago

Note

What would happen if all of Voldemort’s love interests from your fics met up? I’d think Tom would try and kill them all but lmao 🤣 other than that?

Just because I love you, and for the Big Day tomorrow, I wrote this to amuse you!

Canon Voldemort

Voldemort frantically turns the pages of the eight book he read that night. His fingers had gone numb from all the notes he took, there’s ink all over them. But he can’t stop. He needs to find a way to send all these lunatics back to their dimensions.

Bella isn’t so bad, but she’s walking around claiming they have a daughter together, keeps trying to talk to him about the girl. Delphini. As if Voldemort would ever allow any progeny of his, however unlikely, to be called Delphini.

Then there’s Bella’s crazy cousin, with a dark mark on his arm that Voldemort did not put there. He looks hostile and destructive, and Voldemort is pretty sure he’s drunk. “Do you remember that time when you called me a big boy? What did you mean by that?” he slurs at Voldemort, speaking from behind a wall of smoke coming from his cigarette.

Abraxas Malfoy, pouting in a corner, with well manicured nails.

Grindelwald, who, for some reason, looks like a young man, calls Voldemort ‘liebling’, talks about returning to their cabin and eating strawberries.

Then there’s Potter. He mostly hides behind Dumbledore, but at some point he started drinking with his godfather, and when he was sufficiently inebriated, he showed Voldemort a wedding ring. “We’re married,” he hiccuped. “We’re raising our daughter together.”

And if *that* didn’t freak Voldemort out, well- Albus fucking Dumbledore, with a mane of red hair, gives him lust filled looks.

But nothing, nothing is as panic inducing as the young man that refuses to leave Voldemort’s side. Himself. His younger self. He calls Voldemort ‘Marvolo’ and he has a terrifying possessive look in his eyes.

Voldemort really needs to find a way to get rid of all these people, send them back from whatever hell spawned them. And he also needs to find the versions of himself, from all of these dimensions, that apparently get entangled with the worst partners ever.

Bella

Her poor lord looks stressed. He’s hiding behind his books, stacking heavy tomes atop the other, hunching behind them. Bella would like to go and talk to him, comfort him, but the boy- Tom- threatened to cut her open and eat her if she gets closer. She’d have laughed at anyone that dared say that to her, but this Tom seems to be her lord’s younger self, so she’s hesitant.

She’s certain she can charm him, too, if she has to. After all, if she charmed her lord, how hard could it be to get to this adolescent?

Her lord would pick her over all these other contenders, she’s certain. She’s his most loyal, and she gave him a daughter. She’s the only woman there, definitely the most attractive out of the bunch. Well, there’s Malfoy that looks almost as lovely as her, and then there’s Sirius- but Sirius seems confused as to why he’s there. He’s too drunk to make sense, anyway.

Bella will surely win her lord’s attention.

Abraxas

Tom looks more menacing than ever, standing at the side of the man that must be his future self. Abraxas tried to draw him away and ask him what in Merlin’s name was happening, but Tom told him to get lost. He called him ‘Abraxas’ instead of ‘Malfoy’, as if they’re friends, as if Abraxas hadn’t sucked his prick just the day before.

All these strange people are crammed together in a room, and Abraxas is getting uncomfortable. A blond man that looks suspiciously like a picture of Grindelwald he once saw in an old paper keeps giving him dirty looks.

Abraxas wants his father to come and get him out of there.

Gellert

His liebling is close to hysteria. The boy at his side looks more like the man Gellert is spending eternity with, but Gellert knows his true liebling is the older man taking notes, muttering curses and threatening to kill everyone. That’s the murderous, psychotic man he knows and loves, even if he’s lacking a nose. But his eyes are precious, red and sweet, like the strawberries they have back home.

Gellert will let him struggle with his books for a little while longer, and then he’ll go and show him the solution.

No one else can help him with this conundrum; he’ll value me above all others.

Well, there’s Albus there, looking quite handsome if Gellert is honest with himself. He could potentially have a solution for the predicament they find themselves in. But he looks so confused, talking with that Potter lad, so Gellert knows he has no competition.

Sirius

Sirius is never drinking again. Merlin, I promise, I swear I won’t ever drink or take muggle drugs ever again. This is the weirdest hallucination he’s ever had. Apparently, everyone there is Voldemort’s lover. Ridiculous. I don’t even like men! Well, not that much. He doesn’t think so, at least.

Voldemort somehow lost his nose, even if he was just fine the last time Sirius saw him.

There’s a boy that claims he’s James’ son; he does look like Prongs, and he has Lily’s eyes. Sirius thinks this new Potter has a crush on him, which just freaks him out.

Bella’s older, but just as hot as always. Sirius decides to go sit at her side, these other people are freaking him out, but his eyes keep getting distracted by Tom. Sirius once saw Tom in a picture, but Morgana’s tits, the picture didn’t do him justice.

He’s- well, he’s interesting, isn’t he? And he’s so furious, too, guarding noseless Voldemort from anyone that attempts to approach him.

Albus

Albus can’t believe he fell for a dark lord. Again. When the poor boy named Harry fills him in on everything, he feels incredibly betrayed.

Voldemort. What a stupid, ridiculous name. And the lies someone told this Harry- as if Albus would ever treat a child as badly as Voldemort claims he’d been treated. Outrageous!

And when Harry gets drunk, he accuses Albus of sending him to his death, just to get rid of Voldemort. The boy must be under a powerful confundus spell.

“Oh, no, he’s correct,” Gellert says, hearing Albus speaking to himself. “You turned out to be a terrible, patronising, manipulating arsehole.”

Albus tries to ignore him. He’s studied the room, and the runes inscribed in the corner seem to say that they can only get out of it when Voldemort chooses one of them as a partner.

And Albus really has to get out of there. He needs to make sure he learns all he can about this dark Lord Voldemort that pretended to be Tom Gaunt, and find a way to defeat him and stop him from terrorising the world.

Only there’s another Tom Gaunt at his side. A boy- no older than seventeen, maybe eighteen. There’s a hungry look in his eyes. He looks fierce, but he looks vulnerable, too.

Albus thinks there’s still hope for him. Albus plans to get out of that room with Tom and Harry, and try to look after them, protect them from Voldemort. Maybe the boys will be a good influence on each other.

Harry

Harry wants his Voldemort. He forgot how awful the original was. How insane. He hisses to himself, scribbling like crazy, promising death and torture to no one in particular.

He’s even ignoring Bellatrix, which his Voldemort would have never done.

Yet Harry’s having somewhat of a good time. In the back of his head he’s certain his Voldemort, urged by Delphini, will find a way to get him out of that room and deal with Original Voldemort. In the meantime, Harry finally gets to have some drinks with Sirius.

God, but he’s so hot.

And he feels a bit less guilty, seeing that even Sirius, in another dimension, had fallen pray to Voldemort’s manipulations.

“I am not fucking him, I swear!” Sirius protests. “Merlin’s balls, I don’t even like men! I just had a blowjob or two from some muggle men, but only because I was drunk!”

And there’s Dumbledore. Even Dumbledore fell in love with a version of Voldemort.

Really, I had no chance. Harry feels so much better now, conscience clean for once.

If Sirius is hot- well, then Tom Riddle is also hot. Though he insists his name is Tom Gaunt. Not that he talked to Harry- oh no, Sirius and Dumbledore had to stop this Tom Gaunt from killing Harry, as soon as they met and the confusion was over.

And Voldemort himself had to stop Tom from killing Bellatrix. He almost didn’t make it in time, Tom’s fingers around her throat, before Voldemort finally pulled him off her.

After another drink with Sirius, Harry decides to go over to Bellatrix and talk about Delphini.

Tom

“Can you stop touching me?” Marvolo asks, voice high and a little desperate. “I’m trying to focus!”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re alright,” Tom tells him, softly.

Marvolo hadn’t rested in a long time. Tom just wants to convince him to take a break and sleep.

“Sleep? Are you irrational? Sleep? With Dumbledore and Potter here? With Grindelwald?”

“I’d protect you,” Tom assures him. “No one would get past me.”

Marvolo looks at him. “We both know you’re the biggest threat out of all of them.”

Tom smiles. His Marvolo was always paranoid Tom will turn on him. But Tom would never.

Abraxas keeps trying to talk to him. Apparently they were lovers in his dimension. Tom shudders, internally. Though, really, Abraxas wouldn’t have been that bad. Not compared to Dumbledore. Or Grindelwald.

How is Tom supposed to kill these two?

He is sure he will make short work of Potter and Bellatrix. Abraxas, too. But Dumbledore and Grindelwald....

I’ll find a way. No one will take Marvolo away from me.

Sirius Black looks like his mother, only somehow better. He keeps eyeing Tom, now and again.

Maybe Tom could spare this one, keep him as a pet. Maybe he could fuck him, and pretend he’s Marvolo.

Tom smiles. Yes, he could do that. Just as soon as he gets some food into Marvolo, who looks like if he’d have hair, he would be ripping it off.

#Voldemort has to deal with his fanfic lovers #poor thing is scared #Harry and Sirius get drunk together

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matildashoney · 3 years ago

Text

every day of always.

a little harry and amélie piece for you lot. harry and amélie love you. i love you. here's a little angst to get you through your day. send your feedback and thoughts! it means everything to me.

Harry is in a mood all night and everyone, especially his daughter, can tell. He’s not his usual self, the happy and charming version of her father that uses silly voices to read her books or play with the dolls in the dollhouse. He isn’t making funny faces when he feeds her little sister at the dinner table or making sound effects when the two girls are in the bath together. He’s quite quiet, thinking carefully about something that is much too perplexing for her six-year-old mind. Certainly, though, they all miss Amélie.

Amélie’s only been gone a few hours, maybe four at most. Hensley watched on their unmade bed as she got ready for the evening, Harry taking to taking care of Stevie Jayne and taking a business call in the other room while she does her makeup and hair. Hensley watches carefully, saying to her mother, “Je veux être belle comme toi quand je serai grande, Mama,” in a hushed whisper, as though it would be shameful for anyone to hear.

“Hensley Grace, you are already so beautiful,” Amélie says, setting the curling iron down and walking into the bedroom, lifting her daughter’s chin to meet her eyes. “My most beautiful girl. Hensley, you look just like Papa when you give me those eyes, you know that?”

Hensley giggles and shrugs, puckering her lips for a kiss and kissing her mother sweetly before allowing her to return to her hair in the bathroom. Quietly, she pays close attention to the details that her mother puts into her look, the way her hair is tightly curled, and her makeup is barely noticeable beyond her signature pink lip. Amélie looks beautiful, and anyone in a mile’s distance would stop and stare. Hensley admires the way her mother looks, for she hasn’t seen her dressed like this in a while, since her baby sister was born, most likely.

“Cherry, are you almost ready? There’s a car outside waiting for you.”

“I am, I am!” Amélie shouts from the bathroom, smacking her lips together once more and giving herself a quick spritz of her favorite perfume. Harry is staring at her with Stevie on his waist from the doorway of the bedroom, and he feels a twinge of jealousy rush through his body. He selfishly wishes he was getting to take her out looking like this, seeing her fashionably done and well-manicured for the evening. He shakes it off quickly and smiles at her reassuringly, saying, “Can’t believe I married you.”

“Not too much, is it? His assistant made reservations for a fancy restaurant, so I don’t want to show up underdressed.”

“You look stunning, my love. It’s all just enough,” Harry says, forcing a smile and adjusting their daughter onto his other hip. “Kiss before you go.”

Amélie blushes beneath the layer of makeup coating her skin and slides her engagement and wedding ring on her finger before walking over to their daughter on the bed, saying, “Be good for Papa, Hensley Grace,” before walking towards him and grabbing his cheeks with a smile, pecking his lips lightly before kissing their infant’s forehead and turning to walk out the room.

Harry wants to say, “That’s it? That’s all I get? A little peck?” and convince her to come back and give him a real kiss, one that turns into three, that turns into her not leaving the house, but instead he says, “Have a good time. I’ll wait up for you.”

Amélie shouts a quick, “Love you!”, before hurrying out the door and into the waiting car at their driveway.

And then there were three.

Harry handles dinner and bath time and stories quite well, he believes. Usually, he and Amélie do everything together when they’re home, but having to do it alone makes him realize how hard Amélie has it when she’s alone. Certainly, it wasn’t that he didn’t realize it before, but having to do it yourself changes everything. He realizes that all the moments he’s left for a film or a studio session in the middle of the day, leaving her to tend to their children by herself without any helping hands is much, much harder to do with a walking infant and a rambunctious six-year-old.

Harry’s quiet the whole night. Hensley notices fairly quickly, and when she asks what’s wrong, he merely shakes his head and says ‘nothing, butterfly’ with a fake smile that only he could muster. Hensley knows though, she’s smart, and she decides to say something that only her father would understand when he’s tucking her in later that night, when the lights are about to turn off and he’s about to leave her room for the last time until the morning.

“Papa, is Mama going to give me a kiss goodnight, like she always does, when she gets home from her dinner?”

“Of course, she is, baby,” Harry sighs, the weight of her words weighing on his chest and his mind. “I’ll make sure Mama comes in here first thing, okay?” He turns towards the door once more to leave; whimpering being heard through the monitor in his hand, which means that their youngest is starting to stir. He sighs in frustration – she just fell asleep.

“I don’t like that Mama has to leave for work, too. Makes me have the icky feelings in my belly, Papa. I wish you and Mama could be home with me and Stevie all the time.”

Harry’s shoulders sink and his chest caves in slightly with the defeated breath that parts through his lips. “I know, baby. I’m sorry. Mama and Papa have jobs that makes us leave sometimes, but we’ll always come back to you. I promise you that.”

“And to each other?”

Harry doesn’t know how to answer that to a six-year-old. He’s upset, right now. Unbelievably upset. He feels neglected and lost and like their marriage is a secondary or tertiary priority amongst their lives. Children come first, obviously, they knew that would be the case as soon as Hensley was born, but he doesn’t think that either of them should be so far down on the list. Considering all that they’ve been through, it feels like they’ve lost each other in the mix of everything, in the midst of it all. He suddenly can’t remember the last time they were intimate with each other. Months ago, maybe one month if he was lucky – no pun intended. His eyes well up and he sucks in a breath and is ready to leave without answering the question when Hensley says his name.

“Papa?”

“I’ll always go back to Mama, baby. Mama is,” Harry finds himself choking up at his words, at the sentiment, he hasn’t said something so meaningful about his wife in so long, that maybe even she forgot what she meant to him. “Mama is my whole life, just like you and your baby sister are.”

Hensley seems satisfied with that answer and takes a deep breath, cuddling her blanket closer to her chest and rolling on her side. Harry believes that she’s going to sleep, so he turns the sound machine on and walks towards the door once more.

“Papa?”

Harry puffs out a breath between his lips and looks over his shoulder at his baby, the little girl tucked away in the bed much too big for her, and sighs, “Yeah, baby?”

“I love you.”

“I love you to Jupiter and Pluto, my little butterfly.”

Hensley smiles to herself and closes her eyes, listening to the sound of the noise machine that Harry turns on and gently drifting away as sleep takes over her. Harry walks quietly into the nursery, furrowing his brows at the door already slightly ajar. He cautiously walks in, nearly jumping back at the sight of his wife nursing their youngest in the rocking chair with barely a light on. “Jesus Christ, Ames. You scared me.”

“Sorry,” she says halfheartedly, gently drawing along their daughter’s head as she nurses. Harry can finally see how beautiful she looks, makeup and hair perfectly done, her outfit certainly professional but stunning. He realizes then, in that moment, that it’s been nearly a year since he’s brought her out on a date. “How was your night?”

“Good,” Harry says, sadness and maybe even despair filling his veins and his tone. He can’t seem to shake the jealousy that’s wafting over him, although he knows he has no right to be, and it’s eating away at him. He wants to say something. He wants to address the elephant in the room, the one sitting on his chest. “How was dinner with your director?”

“Went really well,” Amélie smiles brightly, and Harry feels his chest cave in at the thought. Is Amélie asking for more responsibility? Is Amélie asking to be away more than she is? “Everything I was asking for worked out.” Harry nods halfheartedly and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’ll talk to you more about it tomorrow, I’m kind of tired.”

“Haven’t seen you all night and you don’t want to talk to me?” Harry wonders, knowing that he’s picking an argument and starting a fight for no valid reason. He doesn’t really care, in that moment though. “That’s wonderful.”

Amelie furrows her brows in confusion and gently walks their daughter to her crib, laying her down softly and kissing her forehead before adjusting her shirt and walking towards the doorway, where Harry is waiting rather impatiently to turn the light off and shut the door. “Where is this coming from? I thought you’d be tired, too.”

“I am, I just,” Harry sighs, rubbing his hands against his cheeks as he walks into their bedroom and shakes his head, waiting to say anything until the bedroom door is shut and Amélie is taking off her shoes and setting them in the closet. “I missed you, I want to spend time with you.”

“I missed you, too, baby,” Amélie smiles, walking over and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, leaning on her toes slightly and capturing his lips in a kiss.

Harry kisses Amélie sweetly, softly, as though one wrong move will make her pull away and leave him. He isn’t sure why he feels this way, why everything feels so fragile, but it does, and it’s breaking him. “Think we should watch our wedding video, tonight? It’s been a while.”

“It’s been more than a while,” she says with a laugh, kissing his cheek and trying to read his expression – something is off, that much she knows. “Why do you want to watch that?”

“’Cause,” he says, shrugging his shoulders and rubbing her hands along her back soothingly. “I wanted to hear your vows, again. Makes me feel good.”

Amélie knows something is certainly wrong when Harry says that. “Mind if I shower, first? I’ll take all my makeup off, and we can watch our wedding, if you really want to.”

Harry nods and walks towards his nightstand, peeling off his jewelry one ring at a time, the only ring left being his wedding band that has been plastered on his left hand for nearly seven years. He stares at it solemnly, listening to the sputtering of the shower and the hum of his wife as she steps inside the warm water. He contemplates getting in with her, just to be close to her.

And so, Harry does.

He walks into the bathroom quietly, taking a moment to admire Amélie through the foggy glass and appreciate her body from afar. He steps in and lays a hand on her lower back, nearly startling her in the process. He kisses her neck sweetly, pressing little kisses all over her shoulder and spine and along her arms, stopping just at her left hand and kissing over her third finger, the finger adorning the jewelry that says she’s in love and happily married.

“Harry, I vow to be your best friend, your lover, your midnight driver, your inspiration, your partner, your Cherry, your angel, every day of always.”

Harry quirks his eyebrows and smiles at Amélie. He knows exactly what she’s doing in that very moment. “Keep going, Cherry.”

“I’ll do everything with you, forever. I love you. I adore you. Always and forever.”

“Meant that?” he whispers against her forehead, closing his eyes and soaking in the way the water falls over their bodies, breathing in the scent of the oils filling the air. “Mean it now, too?”

“Of course, I meant it,” she says, grabbing his cheeks and tilting his head slightly, encouraging him to open his eyes and meet her stare. “Harry, what’s wrong?”

“Miss you, that’s all.” Amélie stays silent after that, simply washing her hair and her body and maneuvering around Harry’s body every so often to rinse off. Her arms circle around his abdomen, her fingers drawing along his collarbone and her mouth pressing tiny kisses to his shoulders. Harry grabs her hands and kisses her fingers softly. “I love you, Amélie Fay.”

“And I love you.” Amélie turns the shower off and Harry turns around and kisses her forehead. “Harry, you know that, right?”

Harry nods quietly and steps out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist, holding his hand out for his wife and carefully helping her out. Amélie looks at him inquisitively, concerned and confused by his reaction to all that she’s saying. “I know, baby.”

“Go on and tell me what’s bothering you, then. C’mon, Harry, I’ve known you for over a decade, I know when something is bothering you and you won’t tell me,” she says softly, taking her favorite silk robe and wrapping it around her body, watching as he presses his lips together in thought and contemplates sharing how he’s feeling. “I’m all yours, baby. I just want to know what’s wrong.”

Harry slides a clean pair of boxers up his thighs and sighs audibly, nodding towards their bedroom and shutting the bathroom light behind them. Amélie watches Harry carefully, taking a seat on their bed and pulling their duvet down for him to get in next to her. He does so without saying a word, only a couple audible breaths and a few stolen glances – all met by her eyes. Amélie reaches into her bedside table and grabs her favorite nightshirt, and old tattered shirt that Harry used to wear during their dating days. It's one of the few things that she’s kept it all this time, years later, for memories sake. She slips it over her head easily and lays her robe at the end of the bed, waiting for Harry to finish setting up the computer and their television for them to watch.

He presses play, walking back to the bed and climbing under the covers, opening his arms, and waiting for his wife to assume her usual position in his arms. Amélie does so without waiting, wrapping her arms around his midsection, and slipping her legs between his, a quiet hiss leaving his lips as her cold feet meet his calves. He doesn’t say a word, simply kissing her forehead and leaning back against his pillows, watching the video quietly.

“You looked so handsome on our wedding day,” Amélie smiles, looking up at him and admiring the tiniest of details on his face. He’s in his thirties, now. He’s caring for two young children and a wife. Certainly, that shows, but Amélie still finds him to be the most beautiful creature to ever walk the planet. “Not that you don’t look handsome every day, but I did appreciate you a lot that day.”

“Nice save, Cherry.” Harry runs his fingers through her hair softly, kissing her forehead and breathing in her scent as they watch their vows get spoken on the screen, specifically Amélie’s.

Harry, you are my best friend, my love, my whole heart. Absolutely, positively, you are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, that has graced my life and made me change for the better. All because of you, I am a better person. I am more forgiving; I am more compassionate. I am kinder; I am wiser. I am the very best version of Amélie Fay because of you, Harry, because of the way you love, and you care for me. Never did I ever think I would find someone that would understand my mental health, that would care for me in the way you do. None of this is easy for you, and yet, every single day, you take my hand and face the day with me, never against me. There are some things that are by chance, but meeting you was not chance. Meeting you was a working of the Universe, of Pluto and Jupiter and the Moon, because they all knew that I needed you.

“We look so in love,” she says sadly, and the realization hits her. Harry and Amélie have been dancing around each other for weeks, months even. It’s been ages since they’ve been intimate – longer than Amélie can remember – and it’s like they’ve been walking on eggshells with each other, unsure of what to say and how to go about anything.

Much like when they were filming Don’t Worry Darling, work has gotten to the heads once again, and they’re back in the rut they promised themselves they wouldn’t be in again. It must’ve hurt seeing her leave all gussied up for something other than an evening with him, especially when it’s been so long, and she didn’t think twice. That’s when it all hits her. Everything that Harry hasn’t been saying. Amélie knows exactly how he’s feeling – because even if she hadn’t admitted it to herself, she’s been feeling it, too.

“I think I love you more, now. If that’s even possible. Even though I haven’t been showing you that nearly enough,” Harry says, looking down at her and wiping a tear from her cheek. Amélie hadn’t even realized it slipped out or that she started crying. “I’m going to be better, Ames.”

“I know.” Amélie sucks in a deep breath and nods, wiping her eyes quickly. Tears are coming faster than she can properly wipe them away. All of the words she’s saying are spilling out, now, before she can even think properly about what she’s saying. “I miss you, Harry. I miss us. I miss everything we had, so badly. I feel lost. I feel like I don’t have you anymore. Ever since Stevie was born and I started this movie, everything has been so chaotic and it’s like we’re not even married. All we’re doing is existing.” Her voice cracks. “Look at us in that video. We’re just two kids in love. We didn’t think this far ahead.”

“Hey, hey. Amélie Fay, look at me, baby.” Amélie tilts her head slightly and allows Harry to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “I didn’t need to think. I just wanted you by my side, forever. I still do.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Amélie whispers, swallowing back another round of tears. “Are you?”

“Never in a million years.”

Amélie immediately maneuvers her body around and straddles Harry’s waist, wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders and squeezing him to her chest, his face tucking into her neck and his arms holding her midsection tightly. “I’m taking a break after this movie is over.”

“What?”

“That’s what I told my director, tonight, at dinner. I said that I appreciated the offer to work on the next movie, but I need more time with my family. I need to be with you, Harry, and our girls. I could care less about the other stuff. That’s just work. This, you, are what matters to me.” Harry releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He pulls his head back from her neck, meeting her long stare and kisses her deeply, feeling electrified the way their bodies light with this ignition that could only be described as true love. He didn’t want to pull away, for it to end. Instead, Harry leans his forehead against hers and sucks in a breath between his teeth, his eyes fluttering shut when her hands slowly dance down his abdomen. “Let’s go to France for a little while. Get away from all this once our contracts are over. Have some time as a family. No obligations. Just us.”

“Let’s move there.”

“Where?”

“France. Neuilly. You. Me. Our kids. Make a life for ourselves there.”

Amélie immediately stops what she’s doing, “You’re only saying that because I’m about to put my hands in your pants for the first time in over a month.”

“Actually, I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Just haven’t said anything. Wasn’t sure of the right time to bring it up. Figured now’s a good a time as any.”

“Baby, don’t tease me like this.”

“It’s not teasing if I’m being serious,” Harry says seriously, his hands rubbing her thighs softly as she lays her hands flat on his stomach. “You’ve always wanted to move there. Henry left us the house. Tell me, Ames, what’s stopping us from packing up and going, tomorrow?”

“Your family is here. I couldn’t ask you to leave them.”

“Your family is in Malibu, and you left them to move here with me.” Harry looks at Amélie with the utmost seriousness. “Let me do this for our family. For you.”

And that is the sentence that makes Amélie know she’s married the person that is her other half, that would do anything to make her happy. “Harry Styles, I am so in love with you.”

Harry doesn’t say anything, simply leans forward and presses his mouth to hers, kissing her and breathing for what felt like the first time in weeks. Amélie smiles against his mouth, moving her hands down his chest and soaking in the way his hands feel against her skin. Harry and Amélie missed this, this intimacy, and the feeling of being close. They needed this. Badly.

“I love you. I’ll never stop.”

Amélie doesn’t say a word because she knows. She knows this. She feels the same.

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d-andilion · 3 years ago

Text

picture perfect

@witcher-bows-and-arrows day 9: wedding

(geraskier, feat. lambert and yennefer, established relationship, wedding planning, geralt has anxiety, hurt/comfort, fluff & angst, 2.2k)

read on ao3

The first thing Geralt hears from his snide little brother when he sits down at the table is, “So how did the big conversation go with Jaskier?”

Geralt doesn’t even get a chance to deflect the question. “Oh, he hasn’t told him,” Yen says with a smirk from her seat beside him.

He glares over at her and she just keeps grinning smugly back. Why did he agree to go out to lunch with Lambert and Yennefer? All they ever do is gang up on him and he’s really not in the fucking mood.

Lambert, unaware (or uncaring) of the crisis occurring across from him, sighs mightily. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“‘Fraid not,” Yennefer replies. “He FaceTimed me an hour ago to get my opinion on flower arrangements. They’re extravagant, by the way. Very attention-grabbing.”

Geralt groans and drops his head defeatedly onto the table in front of him. Of course, they’re extravagant. Probably neon green with fucking sparklers attached, knowing Jaskier.

“This is getting ridiculous, Geralt,” says Lambert.

Geralt doesn’t pick his head up from the table. “It’s complicated.”

It is complicated.

When Jaskier asked Geralt to marry him, he couldn’t believe it. In fact, he stood there gaping like a fish at the ring box for so long, Jaskier had to ask him if he was alright. Stupid question, really. He definitely was not alright.

But he did, eventually, pull himself together long enough to say yes. Then Jaskier cried like a baby and they knocked over the wine from his carefully assembled sitting room picnic when they tried to kiss, completely ruining the blanket they were sitting on.

It wasn’t a very picture-perfect proposal. Jaskier actually forbade any pictures of the evening, citing his post-cry face. But after the mess was cleared up and the ring was actually on Geralt’s finger, they both laughed until they cried. Geralt wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Their newly-affianced bliss lasted about a week. Eight days, to be exact. That’s when Jaskier pulled a colossal, overstuffed binder from the depths of their closet and slapped it down on the kitchen table in front of them. It was filled to the brim with magazine clippings and printouts of everything wedding-related—food, flowers, place settings, stationery, venues, and a dozen other things Geralt couldn’t keep track of. Years of planning the perfect day, condensed and collaged.

Geralt hasn’t known a moment’s peace from his anxiety since.

In hindsight, he probably should have seen this coming. Jaskier is perhaps the most dramatic, theatrical person on the face of the Earth, and he was raised among the wealthy to boot. Of course, he would want a grand wedding. He’s probably never been to one that wasn’t completely over the top.

Geralt can appreciate some of it. It’s not as if he wants to get married in jeans and t-shirts. He wants it to be nice, and he’s watched enough of those wedding reality shows with Jaskier before to know that it could definitely be worse. But it’s all so… much.

There’s the guest list to start with. Jaskier is determined to invite everyone they’ve ever met and give them a plus one. Then there’s the color scheme which seems to change every three days, and the invitations which have to be on just the right weight of paper, and the menu which has to have just the right amount of variation without overwhelming their hundred guests.

Geralt had been worried about how they were going to pay for it all, but Jaskier’s parents were so glad to hear their son was finally getting married to someone, anyone, that they offered to foot most of the bill. Jaskier isn’t wasting a dime of their generosity.

Over the past few months, Geralt has been dragged to four tux shops, three florists, two wedding planners, seven restaurants, five venues, and an honest-to-fucking-gods calligrapher. They hadn’t even made any decisions yet, this was just the ‘sampling phase’. There were phases.

Everywhere they went, Jaskier asked for Geralt’s opinion and he didn’t know what to say. Sure, fish sounded good and roses looked nice, but he didn’t know anything about this stuff. Jaskier had a thousand-and-one opinions about what would be ‘just perfect’ for their big day. What if Geralt makes the wrong decision? What if the thing he picks isn’t part of Jaskier’s perfect plan?

It’s so clear that Jaskier has been thinking about this forever. He even admitted to putting the first few pages of the binder together when he was sixteen. Jaskier has been dreaming up the perfect wedding day for most of his life and Geralt is terrified of fucking it up.

Lambert clears his throat at a comically loud volume. “‘Jaskier, I, a notorious shut-in, would prefer not to have an outrageous pageant for our wedding’,” he says in his irritating impression of Geralt. “Doesn’t sound very complicated to me.”

Geralt lifts his head from the table. “He’s been planning the perfect wedding since he was a teenager. There’s a binder. I can’t just tell him to toss out everything he’s been dreaming of all his life.”

“So you’d rather be miserable on your wedding day than ask him to tone down his?” Yennefer asks.

“I won’t be miserable,” Geralt counters weakly. She doesn’t look convinced.

“No? Then walking down the aisle in front of a hundred people is all well and good with you?”

Geralt glowers, but he can’t say that it is. That’s his worst nightmare, actually. Even imagining it makes him feel a bit sick.

“Look,” Lambert begins seriously, “I get where you’re coming from, but you having a panic attack in the middle of the vows isn’t going to give him the perfect wedding either. He’d cancel the whole event in a heartbeat if he knew how much all this was getting to you. Just talk to him.”

He’s right of course, the bastard. Obviously, Jaskier isn’t going to leave Geralt over wedding plans, he knows what they have is deeper than that. He just doesn’t want to disappoint him. Geralt’s phone saves him from having to reply, buzzing on the table in front of him. It’s a text from Jaskier. On your way? Geralt’s gut drops like a stone. He completely forgot.

“Fuck, I have to go,” he says, pushing back his chair and tapping out a reply to Jaskier.

“Running from your problems won’t make them disappear,” says Yen.

“I’m not running. We’re tasting cakes.”

Lambert perks up at that. “Can I come?”

“No.”

“Dickhead.”

Geralt doesn’t reply. He turns to leave only for Yennefer to shout “Talk to him!” at his back. Geralt gives them both the finger on his way out.

Geralt is almost excited by the time he gets to the bakery. This has got to be the best part of wedding planning, right? They’re just sitting down and eating free cake for an afternoon. It might even be fun. To Geralt’s dismay, he is disabused of that foolish notion the second he walks through the door.

He’s a few minutes late and Jaskier is already there, sitting at a table while the baker finishes laying out the samples. Geralt was imagining a few options. Chocolate, vanilla, maybe red velvet. He was mistaken. There have to be at least a dozen little squares of cake on the table, and the baker still has a few more on her serving cart.

She notices him lingering by the door and gives him a winning customer service smile. “You must be our other groom,” she says sweetly, waving him in. “Please, make yourself comfortable, we’re just about ready to start.”

Jaskier spins around in his chair and makes excited grabby hands him Geralt’s direction. Geralt grins despite himself at his ridiculous fiance, taking the offered hands and dropping a kiss onto Jaskier’s cheek.

“Sorry I’m late,” he mutters.

Jaskier waves him off nonchalantly. “You’re here now. Let’s eat some cake!”

They do, in fairness, eat cake. A lot of very delicious cake. Which would be wonderful, except for the fact that there’s so much fucking cake. Geralt’s never even heard of some of these flavors. What the fuck is turmeric spice cake? Then there’s the frosting of which there are about a thousand options, and any frosting can be tried with any of the cakes, and of course, they have to pair well with the food which hasn’t been chosen yet because Geralt can’t make a decision on that either.

After every slice, Jaskier asks him what he thinks, if he likes this one better than the last one and if he thinks their guests will like it, and Geralt can tell that Jaskier is getting frustrated with his noncommittal hums but he doesn’t know what else to say. He likes all the cakes, but he doesn’t know which one is the right one. He doesn’t know which one will make everything just perfect.

They get through a little over half the samples before Jaskier drops his fork a touch too heavily onto his plate and smiles tightly at the baker. “Annie, would you mind giving us a moment to deliberate? So many wonderful options!”

Annie’s eyes flick curiously between the two of them, but she keeps smiling and excuses herself to prepare the next round (the next fucking round) of samples. Geralt feels his stomach curl unpleasantly around the mound of cake he’s just eaten. He knows Jaskier is upset. This is exactly what he was trying to avoid and he couldn’t even do that without fucking it up.

Jaskier takes a calming breath. “Geralt, what’s the matter?”

Geralt is almost surprised. Jaskier doesn’t sound angry, or even all that upset. Just concerned. Geralt keeps his eyes firmly on the vanilla-bean-tort-wafer-whatever-the-fuck cake on his plate, even as Jaskier turns to face him.

His reply is barely audible. “I don’t know which cake to pick.”

“What?” Jaskier asks patiently, and something in Geralt snaps.

“I don’t know which cake to pick!” Geralt shouts, startling Jaskier and probably Annie in the back too. “I don’t know if it should be a sponge or have lemons, or what a fucking ganache is! I don’t know what the place settings should look like, I don’t know if we should serve chicken or pork, I don’t know which tie to wear, or what flowers are the least tacky, or how many we should seat at a table.

“I don’t— It’s too much. I don’t need to stand up in front of a hundred people in a suit that’s double our rent and eat a cake as tall as I am. I love you. I want to be with you forever. Is that… is that not enough?”

A few moments pass in audible silence before Geralt chances a look at Jaskier. His eyes are wide with shock and his mouth is agape. Geralt expects him to shout back, or maybe just leave, but he doesn’t do either of those. Instead, he collects Geralt’s hands from where they’re clenched in his lap and holds them tightly.

“Oh, darling, of course, that’s enough,” he says earnestly. “That’s more than enough. This is why you’ve been so down lately, isn’t it? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Geralt just blinks for a moment. He thought he’d been hiding his unease relatively well, but looking back now, he feels like an idiot for believing Jaskier didn’t notice. Jaskier’s known him longer than anyone besides his brothers. They’re getting married for fuck’s sake, of course, he noticed.

“I didn’t want to ruin your perfect wedding,” Geralt admits miserably.

Jaskier tugs their joined hands into his own lap. “My perfect wedding is you, Geralt. So long as I get to call you my husband at the end of it, nothing else matters.”

Geralt is, for a few seconds, completely overcome with the love he has for the man beside him. How did he get so lucky? What did he do to deserve someone so perfect for him? Here, in the middle of a cake shop with way too many samples in front of him, Geralt’s breath is snatched away.

“Look,” Jaskier begins when Geralt doesn’t reply, “I won’t pretend like I wasn’t looking forward to all that ridiculous pageantry and showing off in front of everyone we know. I was. But I could never be happy with any of it if you were miserable, no matter how perfect the centerpieces are. This is your day, too.”

“So, the food and the flowers?” Geralt asks tentatively. Jaskier smiles.

“Don’t think about them for another second. We haven’t put deposits down on anything yet, we can do something small instead. Just family. Our family.”

Geralt can feel his anxiety dissipating already. Getting married in front of a hundred acquaintances has been turning his stomach for weeks. Swearing to love Jaskier for the rest of his life in the company of their patched-up little family, however, warmed him to his core.

“And the cake?” Geralt adds with a grin.

“Well, that’s the easiest bit of all,” Jaskier assures him, bringing their hands up to his face to press a kiss to Geralt’s knuckles. “Whichever one you like best.”

Geralt finds he already knows which one he’s going to choose, but he pretends to ponder for a moment anyway. “I want the vanilla one with chocolate icing.”

“That sounds perfect,” says Jaskier, and Geralt can tell he means every word.

bows and arrows masterlist

#geraskier #geraskier fic #geraskier fanfic #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #witcher bows and arrows #witcher valentines #my fic #mine

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