#so my father was never allowed to cook with it and I had a trained on fear of it

[museenkuss]

Hi ladies have you heard of putting garlic in dishes? Game changer.

[finelinefae]

the aviator [pilot!harry x teacher!yn]

synopsis: It’s the 1950s. Harry is the best pilot on the Air Force base and y/n is a teacher at a nursery.

word count: 8.5k

contains: fluff, flirting, opposites attract, bad boy/good girl dynamic, Harry has a southern accent, alcohol, smoking, allusions to childhood trauma

This is part 1 of a new series that will probably have 3-ish parts !!

. . .

Offutt Air Force Base, situated in Omaha, Nebraska, housed thousands of civilians working in or connected to the military.  People living in the nearby town would often hear the loud plane engines as they take off and land on the runway. They’d look out the windows of their home and see spitfires piloted by men undergoing training, executing missions, or just having a good time, even when they technically weren’t given permission. 

“Wah Hooo!” The spitfire trembled as it finally landed on solid ground. Harry braced himself for the landing, pushing himself back against his seat to stop himself from jolting around. He did his best to hide his smile and remain nonchalant as he heard the familiar voices yelp in excitement as he landed the aircraft. 

He removed his helmet and pushed the canopy of the cockpit open, leaping down and getting familiar with feeling the solid ground beneath his feet after being in the air. Two figures ran up to him, flailing their arms and screeching in excitement, “Tha’s what I’m talking about!” Harry opened his arms, unable to stop himself from laughing the two men almost knocked him over as they joined in a group hug. 

“You flew her like a champ, H. Never seen anything like that in my life.” Harry looked into two sets of eyes an identical colour to his own. 

Standing in front of him were his two brothers, Sonny and George. All three of them were pilots in the military and had been since they left school to sign up after the War. There wasn’t too much age difference between them which was probably one of the reasons the brothers were so close.  Harry was the oldest, just over a year senior to George, who happened to be taller despite being the middle child, and Sonny was the youngest.

“Yeah well, she still needs some work. One of her engine cylinders is faulty.” The three of them walked side by side towards the maintenance shed. Despite their differences in height, anyone would assume the three brothers were triplets from how similar they looked. Most people on base knew them for their signature sea-glass green eyes and their brown hair. 

“Oh I’ll go and tell Ruddy, he might still be here.” Sonny ran ahead 

“Oh and Sonny,” Harry called for his younger brother, “Good job.” Harry winked at his younger brother, referring to his work on the plane he had just flown. In response, Sonny straightened his shoulders and smiled feeling proud after receiving a compliment from his older brother. 

Harry and George both lit a cigarette each, pausing outside the door to the warehouse to smoke together. “I opened up a letter this morning from Ma.” George exhaled, smoke escaping past his lips. 

Harry tried not to show his annoyance, “Wha’d she say?” He grumbled.

“She misses us… All of us and she wants us to stop by, come visit for dinner one day maybe.” George explained.

“Is she still with that old bastard?” Harry looked up at his younger brother.

George nodded, “Last time I heard.”

“Then we’re not going, none of us are.” Harry thought back to the last time he had allowed himself and his siblings to visit his mother. It was going well in the beginning, she’d cooked them up a roast pork and engaged in conversation, until their Father came home. It wasn’t long into their visit before they left the house and Sonny had gone home with a black eye whilst Harry had to get his hand stitched up at a hospital on the journey back.

Harry had grown up in Dallas, Texas, in a tacky old house that barely stood upright just on the outside of town. Whilst his Father was out working on a ranch somewhere and getting pissed up every night, Harry would spend most of his days keeping the house together whilst tending to his younger siblings. His mother was often somewhere in the house - nobody knew exactly what she was doing, since she wasn’t exactly all there half the time - but she was there.

Every visit they made back home was a reminder as to why they had entered the military in the first place. Whenever their mother would send them a letter, it was either because she wanted something or wanted them to come home so she could ask for that same something in person. The last time Harry had bought his siblings home was the first time in years. He thought his mother would be different yet he had no idea why - she was still letting that old man walk around as if he was the one who kept the house from falling. 

“Sonny and I agreed you’re picking up Elise from nursery by the way,” George smirked, chucking his cigarette on the ground and putting it out with his foot. 

“You and Sonny agreed that?” Harry frowned, receiving a nod from his brother, “I’ve been flying all day and y’ still want me to go pick up the baby?”

George clapped his older brother on the shoulder, “We’ve both got to help out in the warehouse this evening and besides, you’re Offutt's best pilot, I think you can handle picking up a two-year-old on the way home.” 

Harry didn’t have time to argue with his brother as he stepped into the warehouse. He let out a deep sigh and took one puff of his cigarette before throwing it to the ground. He put his flight cap on his head to cover his messy hair and straightened his aviator jacket, walking towards the nursery. 

. . .

“How have you found your first day Y/N?” Midge, one of the other nursery workers asked as they stood at the sink together to wash up some of the paint pots a few of the kids had been playing with in the afternoon. 

“It’s been wonderful, Midge.” Y/N grinned. Although she was tired, she also felt ecstatic to finally be working again after months of searching for a new job.  She had always been good with children thanks to her older sister having a kid of her own for her to babysit now and then. So when the opportunity arose to work a well-paying job at a nursery on the military base, she couldn’t pass it up. They’d even offer her free accommodation and discounted food for groceries which was perfect considering she didn’t have much of any of those things when she was living alone.

“I expect most of the kids will be getting picked up soon,” Midge glanced at the clock, “Everyone will be returning from work.”

Y/N hadn’t expected pick up time at the nursery to be so busy but fathers and mothers bustled in to pick up their children to take them home all at once. Once the majority of the kids had been picked up, Y/N glanced around to see the mess that had been left from the day that she’d have to clean up by herself. Her shoulders dropped as she landed on a small figure, realising she wasn’t completely alone yet. 

“Elise, what are you doing?” Y/N smiled at the tiny girl playing in the corner, she was picking up picture books and flicking through them as if she were actually reading them. Y/N crouched down in front of the small toddler, “Are you enjoying those?” 

Elise just grinned, picking something up with her small fingers and trying to put it in her mouth. Her brown, curly ringlets were no longer in uneven bunches like they had been this morning and her overalls were covered in food and paint stains. Y/N picked up the two-year-old to place in her lap, “Shall we read something before your dad comes to get you?” Elise babbled a reply. 

Halfway through their fifth book, Elise was near enough asleep on Y/N’s lap. It had already been an hour since all of the other children went home and it wouldn’t be long before the sun would set. Y/N carefully picked Elise up so her head was on her shoulder and it was comfy enough to sleep as she stepped towards the telephone to see if Elise’s father was coming to pick her up. 

As her hand went to pick up the telephone, a voice stopped her, “Hello?” It was deep and southern and husky like he had just smoked a cigarette or two, “I’m here to pick up Elise.” 

Y/N turned around, and her breath caught in her throat as she spotted a tall figure leaning casually against the door frame. He wore a brown leather aviator jacket and grey trousers, with his flight cap tucked under his arm. His piercing green eyes, similar to Elise's, met hers, framed by brown curly hair. An unlit cigarette dangled from his lips. 

Y/N had never seen anyone like him in her entire life. 

“Y-yes,” She cleared her throat and forced her eyes to look away from his intense gaze. She stood and walked over to where he stood by the door with Elise in his arms, “You must be Elise’s father.” 

“M her brother,” He corrected. 

“Excuse me?” Y/N wasn’t sure if she heard him correctly, too busy gawking at him to actually pay attention. 

“M Elise’s brother, one out of three of her brothers to be exact.” He repeated, his eyes glancing at the sleeping girl Y/N was holding. 

“O-oh,” She blushed, “My bad, you look so similar I thought you were her father.”

“Easy mistake,” Harry smirked, “Would you like me to take her from you?” 

“Yes, of course,” Y/N gently removed Elise from her and passed her to Harry.

“There we go,” He cooed as Elise whimpered at the sudden movement, “There’s m’ little Elise.” 

Y/N thought her ovaries might explode as she watched the pilot interact with the small girl in his arms, making sure she was comfortable enough so she could remain asleep. “Are you new here ma’am?” Harry spoke his focus now back on Y/N.

“Yes actually, today’s my first day here,” She explained. 

“No wonder, I ain’t ever seen y’ around the place. How’re you liking it so far?” 

“I’ve only been here a couple of days but it’s been nice. Working here at the nursery has been lovely too,” 

“Yeah?” Harry’s lips curled, “I hope this one hasn’t been giving y’ much trouble. She can be a little devil with my younger brothers.” 

Y/N immediately shook her head, “No, she’s been lovely honestly. Think I spent most of the day with Elise out of all the other children.” 

Y/N noticed how Harry focused on her face as she spoke to him, every now and then his eyes would dart to her lips and then back up to meet her eyes, “Y got any friends here?” 

She paused, “Any friends?” 

“Yeah, you know,” He half smiled, it felt almost flirty but maybe Y/N was just imagining it, “People y’ like to hang out with.”

“Uh yeah, I share a house with a few of the girls who work in various places around the base. I get along with most of them and the ladies who work here at the nursery too.” Y/N explained, cringing at how awkward she was and how she’d probably be replaying this conversation back later only to die of embarrassment of all the things she said. 

“Y’ know there’s a dance down at the community centre this Friday, y’ should come, oh and invite some of those friends of yours too.” 

“Oh I don’t know, I think I’m working this Friday and-” 

“A lot of my buddies who I fly with go there sometimes - a good time they said. It might be a good chance to meet some of the people here,” He shrugged, “Could offer y’ a dance or two if you’d like.” 

Y/N wondered if all this was really happening right now or if she was just so tired that she was hallucinating, “O-okay,”

Harry grinned, a dimple carving into his cheek, “Well alright then,”

“Alright then,” Y/N tried to keep her smile at bay as she took it as his queue to leave. She kept the door open so he could easily step out as he walked backwards with Elise in his arms and his eyes still on Y/N even as he said nothing. 

“So I’ll see y’ at the dance?” 

“Maybe,” Y/N shrugged, even though she had already decided she was most definitely going to the dance. 

“Alright, maybe I’ll see y’ at the dance then,” Harry responded with a light, amused chuckle. 

Y/N watched as he turned his back and began to walk down the dirt road until he stopped briefly and spun around, “I didn’t catch y’name by the way,” He called out to her.

Y/N cupped her mouth, “It’s Y/N,”

“Y/N,” He said the name like he was testing how it sounded, “M Harry. Hey, I better see y’ at that dance Y/N, I don’t handle rejection all that well.” Y/N couldn’t help but giggle.

“I can believe that,” She yelled back.

“I’d say goodbye but I wanna see y’ at that dance so I’ll say goodnight instead.” Harry said with a casual salute before turning and continuing down the road.

Y/N shut the door and leaned against it, clutching her hands over her chest in complete disbelief. Her sister had warned her the pilots on the base would be young men near enough her own age and that she ought to be careful hanging around them. However, her sister hadn’t warned her that a man like Harry would stumble over to her workplace to pick up his sister and invite her to a dance on Friday night.

Y/N quickly cleaned up the nursery, shoving things into boxes and wiping down the tables, before grabbing her coat and running down the road to her house.

On every street on the housing estate, there was a row of houses that all looked the same but were owned by different types of people. Some had big families all living under one roof, others were men who lived alone. Y/N’s house was the first house on the street. It was a traditionally designed home with a pitched roof, a small front porch and symmetrical windows. She shared it with three other girls who all worked different jobs across the Air Force base. 

The sun had already set by the time she entered the house. All the lights were turned on and the gentle music of Buddy Holly sounded from the living room. Y/N kicked off her heels and hung up her coat, walking to the living room where Patsy and Molly were lounging on the couch. Molly had Patsy’s foot in her lap as she painted her toenails a wine red. 

Y/N collapsed on the couch next to Molly, “What’s wrong? Work not go so well?” Molly inquired.

“No,” Y/N huffed, resting her head on Molly’s shoulder, “It was wonderful.”

“Well, what’s got you so blue Peggy Sue,” Patsy questioned, her tone playful. She was reading a magazine and smoking a cigarette. 

“A man came into work after everybody left to pick up one of the girls, Elise.” Y/N clarified. 

“You mean Elise Styles?” Molly asked. 

Y/N sat up, “Yes, you know her?” 

“Just about every woman on this base knows her. She’s the Styles’ little sister.” Molly explained, “We’ve all had to babysit her at least once for those brothers.” 

“Yeah and neither of us will be doing it again,” Patsy piped up, as if reminding Molly. 

“Oh, you must know Harry then,” Molly paused, shoving Patsy’s foot off of her lap and turning to face Y/N.

“Is he the man you’re sighing over?” Patsy’s magazine fell to the floor as she too stopped to listen. 

Y/N furrowed her brows, confused by their reaction, “Y-yes, what about him?”

“What about him?” Molly stood, grabbing a cigarette from the packet on the coffee table and lighting it up, “Y/N you oughta be careful around all three of those brothers but especially Harry.”

“What do you mean?” Y/N glanced at Patsy who nodded in agreement with Molly. 

“That boy is not good news. He’s Offutt’s best pilot and he thinks that gives him the right to go around sniffing out every woman that steps foot onto this base.” Y/N frowns, watching as Molly begins to pace back and forth, “He didn’t ask you to go out with him did he?”

“Well he asked me to the dance on Friday. The one at the community centre.” 

“Oh, I bet he did!’ Molly exclaimed, “Listen Y/N, I’m telling you this because I don’t want any trouble for you. That boy is no good, he’s slept with half the ladies residing here and even the wives too I bet! He asked Patsy to go out to dinner with him one night and stood her up to go see another woman.”

Y/N glanced at Patsy, “He was flirting with two different women inbetween the moment he asked and our date a week later.” She added. 

“That’s right. Y/N darlin’, we shoulda warned y’ before y’ stepped foot out of this house this morning. Those Styles brothers will mess you around and leave y’ lonely for sport. You’re too nice to deserve all of that.” 

Y/N's shoulders slumped, “But he seemed so… nice.” Y/N pictured Harry with Elise and how gentle he was with her. 

“He’s not a bad person Y/N but when it comes to women, there’s no guessing what that man turns into.”

“Everyone’s heard plenty of things about why they came here too. If you ask me, his home wasn’t exactly a perfect example to him.” Patsy said.

“Well, whatever reason, best stay away from him.” Molly finished. 

Y/N heaved a sigh, “So I shouldn’t go to the dance on Friday?”

“Oh no, we’ll go to the dance. Harry’s not the only fine, young pilot on base I’ll tell you that.” Molly smirked and Patsy cheered with excitement at the thought of going out Friday night. 

Y/N attempted to smile, but she couldn't shake off the sadness upon realising that the man she had met earlier in the evening wasn't as kind as she had initially believed. Molly fell back onto the couch next to her and put an arm around her shoulders, “Cheer up sweet cheeks. I’m sure plenty of men will want to take you out after this dance.” 

Y/N managed a weak smile, grateful for Molly's comforting presence. "Thanks, Molly," she murmured, leaning into her friend's embrace.

"Yeah, plenty of fish in the sea, darlin'. You'll find one that's worth your time." Patsy chimed in.

Feeling a bit more reassured by her friends' words, Y/N nodded. "You're right. I can’t let one bad apple ruin my night."

Molly squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "That's the spirit! Now let's focus on having a great time at the dance. We can tell you about some of the other fellas who live here too."

With her friends' support, Y/N felt an inkling of hope return. She might have been disappointed by one man, but she wasn't about to let it dampen her spirits for the rest of the evening. She was glad she told her friends about her interaction with Harry and now she was left with one rule stitched into the back of her mind.

Keep away from Harry Styles. 

. . .

The night sky was clear enough to see the stars glittering against the pitch-black backdrop. A soft, gentle breeze flowed through the air as Harry lay back on the swinging chair on the front porch of the house he shared with his three brothers. 

This was his favourite time of day when it was completely silent and the air was cool and crisp. He didn’t like the nights so much when he was living with his parents. After midnight, or sometimes just before, his father would come in through the backdoor stinking the place up with alcohol and waking everyone up with his nightly rampages. 

Nowadays, the nighttime was the most relaxing part of the day and Harry savoured every second of it. He often finds himself sat out on the porch after putting Elise to bed. He’d smoke a cigarette or two, and maybe play his guitar a little bit. 

Tonight felt a little different though. Whilst his brothers were upstairs trying to put a fussy Elise to bed after she’d napped when he brought her home from nursery, he came outside and could think of nothing but the woman he found holding his little sister in her arms. 

Harry knew everyone on base the same way they knew him. He recognised faces easily and had at least one brief encounter with everyone he met in passing. However, the face he had met for the first time this evening was unfamiliar and new. 

Her features were delicate and angelic, with large doe eyes that held a hint of shyness to them. A soft, rosy blush adorned her cheeks and her lips were full and plush that he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of them. Her movements were gentle and her voice was airy and sweet, Harry thought of her stuttering and the way she’d blush whenever she spoke. He hadn’t seen anything like her in his life - he wasn’t a religious or spiritual person but, at that moment, he was pretty sure an angel had landed right in front of his very eyes. 

Even her name sounded as though it came from some kind of mythical text - one full of beauty and purity, love and light. 

Harry wasn’t the purist of men, far from it. He had slept in the beds of women he couldn’t remember the name of and indulged in his fair share of reckless behaviour. But in the presence of Y/N, he felt an unfamiliar stirring within him, a sense of longing tugging at his heartstrings. He didn’t know what it was and he wasn’t so sure he was ready to find out yet. 

He lit a cigarette with a matchstick and exhaled into the air, tendrils of smoke dancing above him. The sound of footsteps thudding inside of the house as someone walked downstairs, broke the silence he had been basking in. 

The door swung open and George stepped out, “Finally managed to get Elise to settle down though it took a whole round of nursery rhymes. Sonny’s still up there now, he’s afraid she’ll wake up again if he stops singing.” George took a cigarette from the pack Harry had in his pocket, “I thought you told those ladies at the nursery not to let her nap before she comes home.” 

“I did,” Harry spoke, his voice husky. 

“What? They didn’t listen to y’?” George chuckled. 

“There’s a new worker. I’ll let her know next time I see her.” Harry hadn’t wanted to tell Y/N that Elise wasn’t allowed to sleep so late in the afternoon because it was harder to get her to go to bed at night. He didn’t seem to have the heart to as he watched her hold the small girl in her arms. 

George scoffed, “A new worker? Is she a knockout at least?” 

Harry didn’t reply, instead asking,  “What do y’ think about the three of us going to the dance at the Community Centre on Friday?” 

George laughed until he realised his brother wasn’t laughing with him, “You’re serious?” 

The door swung open again and out stepped Sonny, “I swear if that baby wakes up, you two can sit in there and dance circles around her singing Miss Muffet for all I care. I ain’t doing that again.” He wiped his brow with the back of his hand, “Can y’ pass me a cigarette, George?” 

George handed the cigarette to Sonny, “Hey Sonny, Harry wants to know if we’ll go to the dance at the Community Centre this Friday.”

Sonny chuckled but that quickly went away, “Oh shit really?”

“Yeah tha’s what I thought,” George said.

“You got your eye on someone Harry?” Sonny spoke, “Is it that girl from the med centre? She sure is something.”

Harry sat up and turned to face his two brothers, “No, it’s not that,” He lied, “Jus’ thought we could go do something other than sit around and drink at the bar.” 

“But the dance?” Sonny quirked a brow, “You hate dances.”

“I never said that,” Harry said, even though he always made it known how much he hated the dances they held every Friday night. 

“No, I definitely think I remember y’ saying dances were for people who wanted to get laid but couldn’t,” George spoke, backing up his younger brother who nodded in agreement. 

“Alright,” Harry held his hands up, “Alright maybe I did say that. C’mon, what are you, Gunther and Francis? Sit down the pair of you.” They followed their older brother's orders, sitting on the seats opposite him. “Maybe there is a girl.” He sighed.

“Oh yeah?” Sonny smirked.

“Yeah, little shit,” Harry chuckled, “So if you could both do me a favour and get yourselves cleaned up Friday night because we’re going to a shitty dance and I won’t be having either of y’ covered in grease and soot.”

“Okay, alright, H.” George took a puff of his cigarette, “But you’re paying for drinks after.”  Harry shook his head, unable to suppress a chuckle.

. . .

Y/N stood in front of her bedroom mirror when Friday night rolled around. She had left the nursery in a hurry, needing as much time as possible to get ready for the dance at the Community Centre. She had been wracked with nerves all week, knowing there was a high chance she would see Harry there and she’d have to do her best to ignore him like Molly had told her to. 

She had picked out her outfit the night before. It was one of her best dresses- a lovely duck egg blue, satin fabric with a fitted bodice and a sweetheart neckline that showed off her decolletage. From the waist, the skirt flowed down in a full, flared A-line silhouette, gently swaying with every step. She wore white low heels on her feet and decided to carry a small purse with her too. 

Most of her time in the evening was spent on her hair and makeup. Y/N had almost used an entire can of hairspray to ensure her hair would stay intact the whole night. Molly had even given her a French manicure the night before and she spent the whole day at the nursery trying her best not to ruin her perfectly shaped nails. 

It had been a long time since she had put this much effort into going somewhere and it was all for a measly dance. There would be many other pretty girls who had spent more or less time on dressing up who probably had a better chance of catching the eye of a man than Y/N did. Yet she wasn’t hoping for the attention of just any man. 

Even though Molly and Patsy had warned her of Harry’s nature, she couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. The way his eyes sparkled when he smiled and the sound of his voice as he spoke in that deep, southern drawl. Every time she thought of going to the dance, he would appear in her mind. Maybe she didn’t necessarily want anything from him but she wanted to at least catch his eye enough to make a lasting impression on him. 

Y/N applied a little more powder to her nose and did one final check in the mirror. She straightened her shoulders, “This will have to do,” She muttered, grabbing her purse. 

Patsy and Molly were already downstairs drinking margaritas and listening to Frank Sinatra on the record player. “Oh and another one comes to join us,” Molly grinned, wearing a navy, spotty dress with a red belt wrapped around her small waist. 

“What took you so long?” Patsy grinned, pouring a drink in a martini glass and handing it to Y/N.

“O-oh no thank you, I don’t drink.” Y/N shook her head and forced a smile out of politeness.

“What? You don’t?” Patsy replied like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. 

“Oh c’mon! Just one little sip - liquid courage and all that.” Molly took the glass from Patsy to give to Y/N who forced herself to take it from her. She held the glass to her lips, taking one small sip and feeling a tiny burn from the alcohol. 

“Good right?” Molly smirked, lighting a cigarette and holding the packet open to Y/N. 

“No thank you, I don’t smoke either.” Y/N laughs nervously. 

“Fair enough,” Molly shrugs, passing the pack over to Patsy who happily takes one for herself. 

Y/N places her drink on the table, knowing she won’t be touching it again. “We’ll be heading out in a moment, we’re just waiting on one more.” As if she could hear them talking about her, footsteps thumped down the stairs and into the living room.

Y/N’s eyes widened when her eyes landed on the tall, blonde standing in the doorway. She was wearing a black dress with a neckline that showed off her bust and a tight waistline that accentuated her curves. The strands of her golden, blonde hair were tied back into a high ponytail with her fringe perfectly curled. She wore red lipstick on her plump lips which made the blue in her eyes even brighter than they already were. 

“You’ve been in your room for hours, Nancy,” Patsy whined. 

“Yes well, I don’t just plan on getting wasted tonight Patsy.” Nancy retorted. 

Nancy was Y/N's other housemate, but Y/N didn't know her as well as she knew Patsy and Molly. Even though they lived together, Nancy seemed a bit distant compared to the latter two, who were friendly and nice. Nancy would smile politely, but she didn't say much else. Oftentimes, Y/N would get a strange feeling about Nancy like how she would make little comments that seemed to be jabs masked by forced politeness or how sometimes it felt like Nancy enjoyed pointing out Y/N's mistakes, like how she did her laundry or what groceries she bought. She wasn’t sure what she had done to upset Nancy but Y/N hoped it was just her over-thinking that made her believe she was this way and that tonight would allow them to get to know each other a little better. 

Nancy’s eyes fell on Y/N and looked her up and down, “Nice dress,” She said, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness.

“Thank you,” Y/N offered her a smile but received nothing in return. 

“Alright ladies,” Molly stubbed her cigarette in the ashtray, “Let’s go catch us a few good men.”

“A few?” Patsy giggled.

“You’re right, I think a few is a little too much for this place.” Molly huffed and led the way out of the house and towards the community centre. 

Y/N could hear the live music coming from the centre as they walked down the street. Patsy and Molly were stumbling ahead, arms linked together as they laughed side by side. Y/N tried not to laugh at her friends as she walked alongside Nancy. 

“You planning on hooking up with anybody tonight?” Nancy’s voice broke the silence between them. 

“No I don’t think so,” Y/N replies. 

Nancy scoffs, “These dances are mostly for that you know, better prepare yourself when a fella tries to talk to you.”

“You think they’ll want to?” Y/N asked, hopeful.

Nancy glanced at her, “I’m sure they’ll snatch you right up those pilot boys.”

Y/N blushes, “Is there anyone you’ve got your eyes on tonight Nancy?” She liked this, conversing with Nancy. She hoped this would be the start of breaking the ice between them and maybe they could become friends eventually, or at least build acquaintances. 

Nancy smirks, “Only one.” She said nothing after that. 

The girls walked into the community centre which was already full of people from all over the airbase. A live band was playing Elvis Presley songs, the music blaring into Y/N’s ears once they stepped inside. “Any of you girls want a drink-”

“Molly is that Everett?” Patsy pointed to a man in the corner, talking to a woman. 

Molly’s face scrunched up, “I guess he’s back from Italy.”

Nancy interrupted the conversation, her eyes darting across the room like she was searching for somebody, “You girls grab something to drink, I’m just going to use the bathroom.”

“Who’s Everett?” Y/N asked Patsy as they walked towards the drinks table. 

“A guy Molly had a thing with last year,” Patsy explained.

“Yeah until he told me he was going to Italy for a year and wanted to break things off so he could get laid by an Italian woman.” Molly ranted, leading the girls to the drinks table. 

A bowl of punch resided in the centre of the table, Molly grabbed the ladle and poured them all a drink. Y/N took a sip and allowed her eyes to scan the room. Couples were dancing in the centre whilst others spoke in groups off to the side.  

Eventually, her eyes caught sight of a group of men walking through the door. Each one of them was dressed in a similar uniform, a navy blue tailored jacket and matching, fitted trousers. She watched as an entire group of them continued to flood in through the doors until the last man stepped through. 

He was wearing the same uniform as the others and his hair was gelled back with one curl falling in front of his forehead, unlike the messy curls she had seen when they first met. Y/N couldn’t help but stare as he weaved through the crowd and interacted with people as he walked past them. Everyone seemed to know him from the looks of it. He exuded confidence and bravado, people’s faces lighting up whenever he stopped to talk to them.

“Patsy?” One of the boys spoke. 

“Here we go,” Molly muttered, forcing a smile. 

A man with features that looked similar to the man Y/N had been eyeing, walked up to them with a taller man following him. “Hi Sonny,” Patsy greeted. 

“Y’ sure know how to make yourself look good when you want to,” He winked, eyeing her up and down.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Patsy put both her hands on her waist. 

“You know what I mean,” Sonny argued, realising he might have said something to offend her even though he had no idea what that might be. 

“Hi,” The taller man behind him spoke. Y/N looked up and was met with familiar green eyes except they were a little bit lighter than the ones she had seen. 

“Hi,” Y/N blushed.

“I’m George. Are you new here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around.” He wondered, pointing his thumb over his shoulder to the crowd as he spoke. 

“Y-Yes, I arrived recently actually. I just started working at the nursery.” She clarified. 

“Oh, the nursery! You must know my little sister Elise.”  Y/N’s lips turned upwards thinking of the little girl she had been spending so much time with over the last few days. Since her first day, Elise had constantly been wanting her attention whether it was to nap or play with things or read books. “You must have met my older brother then.”

“Older brother?” Y/N didn’t have enough time to register as George glanced around the room and called out his brother’s name. 

“Harry, c’mere!” He called. 

Harry’s head turned towards them in the middle of his conversation. His eyes landed on his brother until they found hers. He offered a small smile and began to walk towards them with a drink already in his hand, “This is one of the new workers at Elise’s nursery.” George introduced even though he didn’t really need to. 

“Yes, we’ve already met,” Harry said and Y/N thought she might melt into a puddle on the floor at the sound of his voice. “Hi there,”

“Hello,” Y/N smiled, shyly.

“So you came?” He teased. 

“I did.” She laughed, lightly. 

“And these are y’ friends?” He looked to Patsy and Molly who were bickering with Sonny who seemed to have said something else to offend them, George now joining in on the argument as he let Harry and Y/N talk. 

“Yeah, they’re my friends,” Y/N said, feeling nervous under his gaze. But despite her nerves, she couldn't deny the thrill of being the focus of his attention.

“Good to know,” He murmured, “Y come here with anyone else?” 

"Um, no, just the girls from my house," Y/N stuttered, feeling a rush of nerves as Harry's gaze lingered on her. "I don't know that many people. Other than the girls I live with and the ones from the nursery, who are all lovely, by the way," she added, her words tumbling out in a nervous ramble.

Harry grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement at her flustered state. "You know me too," he stated, his tone playful as he leaned in closer. 

Y/N gulped the air she breathed just as the lights in the centre dimmed. The fast-paced music began to slow down and couples gathered to the dance floor to slow dance together. “Y wanna dance with me Y/N?” Harry asked. 

“I-I’m not very good at it,” Y/N smiled sheepishly, her cheeks tinged with a delicate blush. It was impossible to resist the charm that radiated from him.

He held out the palm of his hand and Y/N’s lips parted as she glanced down at it, “S just swaying tha’s all. Think y’ can do that?” 

Y/N hesitantly nodded, her pulse quickening as Harry's long fingers gently wrapped around her wrist. A tingling sensation danced across her skin, sending shivers down her spine and causing goosebumps to rise in response to his touch. He led her to the centre of the dancefloor and turned around so they were face to face. Harry took both of Y/N's hands in his own, his touch sending electric currents coursing through her veins. With a tender yet confident touch, he trailed his fingers down her arms, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. As his hands settled at her waist, Y/N's breath turned shallow, her heart racing as the music floated through the air. 

She was stiff at first, unable to relax until he leant forward and whispered, “Relax birdy,” She felt his breath against her neck as he spoke. He squeezed her waist a little and she dropped her shoulders, trying her best to loosen up under the circumstances. 

“Birdy?” Y/N spoke, questioning the new nickname.

“I spotted y’ as soon as I stepped through the door. Your dress is blue ‘n it reminded me of the bluebirds I used to see back home whenever I’d go up in the mountains with my grandpa.” He explained. 

“I didn’t know you’d seen me.”

“I searched for y’ as soon as I walked in. I only came because of you, if I couldn’t find y’ I’d probably just turn back and go to a bar or something.” He chuckled and Y/N laughed with him.

“No Elise?” She questioned, unable to stop herself from asking about the little girl she had become fond of. 

“Elise is staying with the family next door. Little rascal tried to get ketchup on my uniform,” He rolled his eyes, “I got a free house if that’s what you’re implying though.”

Y/N’s face turned beat red, “N-No that’s not what I’m implying at all.”

“M just messin’” Harry grinned, cheekily.

Y/N relaxed, composing herself and trying to pull herself together, “I’ve heard things about you, you know.”

“Oh yeah?” Harry smirked, “What things?”

“Just things.” Y/N felt his fingertips press her skin for a moment.

“And do you believe these things?” Harry murmured, leaning in a little closer.

Y/N looked him in the eye, trying to see if she could read him without having to ask him a thousand questions, “I don’t know yet.” 

Harry opened his mouth to reply but was stopped by the sudden change in music and the lights turning on above them. People cheered as they gathered back into big groups and began dancing again. Harry bit back a grin, shaking his head, “Y wanna come outside with me?” He asked, shouting over the loud music. Y/N bit her lip and nodded, taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to pull her through the crowd of people. 

The air was cold once they stepped outside. Harry led her over to a small bench nearby where fewer people were gathered. He pulled out a cigarette and offered her the pack, “Oh no thank you, I don’t smoke.” She declined, politely. 

Harry smiled around his cigarette, his gaze lingering on Y/N for a beat or two as he casually slipped the pack into the pocket of his trousers. The air between them was filled with a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft sound of music drifting from inside the centre. Sensing Y/N's slight shiver, Harry swiftly removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders without saying a word.

"But you'll get cold," Y/N protested, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Don't y’ worry about me. I don't get cold," Harry quipped, a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he shrugged off her concern. His white t-shirt revealed toned arms adorned with a few tattoos littering his tanned skin. 

As Harry tilted his head back to blow smoke into the night air, Y/N couldn't help but admire the way he carried himself with effortless confidence. Gathering her courage, she decided to strike up a conversation.

"Were those your brothers back there?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"Yeah, Sonny and George," Harry confirmed with a hint of pride in his voice.

"They look so much like you," Y/N remarked, her curiosity piqued.

"Strong genes, I suppose," Harry shrugged, his tone becoming more serious as he opened up about his family background. 

"What about you? Do you have any siblings?" He inquired.

"Just an older sister and my little niece, Rosie Jean," Y/N replied, a fond smile tugging at her lips as she thought of her family.

"And your parents?" Harry pressed, his gaze intense as he studied her reaction.

"My parents are doctors, they work at a surgery in town," Y/N explained, feeling a pang of homesickness as she reminisced about her upbringing.

"And yours?" She prompted, turning the conversation back to Harry.

"M parents are nobodies," Harry's voice took on a sombre tone, clearly his family life was a sensitive topic. Sensing his discomfort, Y/N chose her next words carefully.

"What about Elise?" she asked, hoping to lighten the mood with talk of his sister.

"Elise is better off being raised by us three than being left alone in a house with batshit crazy," Harry scoffed, his protective instincts kicking in.

Feeling the weight of their conversation, Y/N searched for a way to lift Harry's spirits. "What made you want to be a pilot?" she asked, genuinely interested.

“Sonny came home wanting to sign up for cadet training after they visited his school. He came home running through the doors with a flyer in his hand and told everybody he was going into the army. I told him ‘No brother of mine is going anywhere that requires trench foot and guns.’ He didn’t talk to me for a week after that. It wasn’t until I found an advertisement where y’ could train to fly planes when I decided I was gonna make a better life for myself and my siblings. It just so happened Sonny and George wouldn’t let me go at it alone.” He inhaled his cigarette before tossing it to the ground. 

As Harry shared the story of how he and his brothers found their way to Offutt, Y/N couldn't help but admire his determination. She found herself drawn to him even more, captivated by his strength and the way he always included his brother’s in everything he spoke about. 

A comfortable silence settled between them. Y/N's heart skipped a beat as Harry smoothly slid his hand next to hers, their fingers intertwining effortlessly. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through her. 

"Have I told y’ how beautiful y’look tonight?" Harry's voice was soft, his gaze locking with hers in a way that made her heart race.

Y/N blushed at his compliment, unable to tear her eyes away from his. "You're lying," she protested, feeling a surge of warmth spread through her cheeks.

"I swear it," Harry insisted, his hand reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Swear on m’ life, birdy."

Y/N's heart fluttered at the nickname, a secret thrill running through her as she turned to face him. His eyes held a tenderness that melted her defences, and she found herself smiling back at him.

"Hi, birdy," Harry murmured, a dimple appearing on his cheek as he leaned in closer.

"Hi, Harry," Y/N whispered, her voice barely above a breath as she savoured the moment.

Harry's shoulders dropped and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, though he seemed to be fighting to contain it. “I can’t lie to y’ birdy, I can’t stop thinking about kissing you,” Y/N's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing at his words. “I was gonna lie and tell y’ I’d been thinking about it since I saw you tonight but… quite honestly, I think I've been dreaming of y’ since I met y’ the other day.” 

Y/N didn’t know what to say, she felt as though someone had put a zipper straight across her mouth and she couldn’t get it to open. All she could feel was every muscle in her body beating against her skin as though they were trying to force her to surge forward and kiss him herself. “Y-You can if you want,” She stuttered, cheeks pink.

Harry laughed, “What about if you want? Can’t go kissin’ y’ if y’ don’t want it birdy.” 

“I do want it,” Y/N nodded. 

“Yeah?” He spoke but it came out more like a whisper. 

“Yeah.” Y/N gulped, feeling nervous. 

Harry didn’t hesitate once the word had left her mouth. He leaned forward, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss, soft and exploratory. Y/N's heart fluttered as she melted into the warmth of Harry's embrace, her senses flooded with the taste of his lips and the scent of his cedarwood cologne.

Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the sweetness of the moment, their kisses deepening with each passing second. Harry's arms wrapped around Y/N, pulling her as close to him as possible. 

In that instant, everything else faded away—the noise of the party, the chill of the night air—leaving only the two of them, lost in the heat of their first kiss. 

They were both breathless as they pulled apart. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open to find Harry already looking at her, his eyes filled with emotion and intense desire. She noticed his tongue poke out to lick his bottom lip and she couldn’t help but giggle when she noticed the red lipstick stain she had left on his mouth from her kiss. 

“Where abouts do you live?” Harry murmured.

“Clemon Street,” Y/N spoke, her voice coming out a whisper. 

“Yeah? That’s on my way home,” He grinned. 

“Oh really?” Y/N bit back a laugh, “I thought y’ lived on Newark Street - it said so in Elise’s file.” 

Harry shrugged, “I like to go the long way round.” Y/N didn’t bother pulling him up on the fact that the two streets were on opposite ends of the housing estate. 

“Can I walk y’ home?” He asked, his fingers fiddling with the fabric of her dress. 

Y/N nodded, biting her bottom lip, “Yeah I’d like that.” 

Harry grinned, “Well alright then.”

They stood up, Y/N keeping his jacket around her shoulders since it was still cold out, “I’ve just got to go to the bathroom,” She motioned towards the community centre. 

“I’ll wait for y’ at the door,” He said, following her as they walked to the community centre side by side. Y/N walked up to the steps and opened the door, she looked over her shoulder to make sure Harry was still there- that he was real and not just someone she dreamt up.

Harry caught her eye, “M not going anywhere birdy,” he winked, “hurry up so I can walk y’ home and kiss y’ again.” 

Y/N laughed and hurried straight to the bathroom. Once inside, she closed the cubicle door behind her and sank down onto the lid of the toilet seat, a wide grin spreading across her face. Unable to contain her excitement, she let out a delighted squeal, her mind buzzing with thoughts of the moment she had just shared. 

She pulled out the pocket mirror from her bag and quickly reapplied the lipstick that had been smeared off. She fluffed up her hair with her hands and rubbed her aching cheeks from where had been smiling so much. She stood up and held Harry’s coat in her arms.  As Y/N stepped outside the community centre, she scanned the area in search of Harry, hoping to catch a glimpse of him waiting for her. Her anticipation turned to disappointment when she couldn't spot him anywhere, and her shoulders slumped slightly in resignation. Just as she was about to turn away, a figure caught her eye—a silhouette that had a striking resemblance to Harry—standing in a shadowy corner illuminated by the lights from the community centre.

Heart fluttering with excitement, Y/N smiled and took a step forward, eager to walk home with him. However, her joy quickly turned to dismay when she realised he wasn't alone.

A sudden giggle pierced the air, causing Y/N's heart to sink. Molly's warning appeared typed out in big letters at the forefront of her mind, filling her with regret and dread as she hesitated, frozen in place. With each step she took closer, the scene before her unfolded—it was Nancy, her housemate, clinging to the man she had just kissed.

I imagine George to be Callum Turner and Sonny to be Timothee Chalamet specifically from ms stevens but you can imagine whoever you’d like ! <;33

[readychilledwine]

Trials and Tribulations

Rhysand Week Day 1 - Adolescence

Summary - Rhysand was always a cocky teen, until it came to you at least

Warnings - Childhood crushes, first dates, flirting, Cassian and Azriel being wingmen (no pun intended), mixed ending (some will like it, some won't), reader likes traditional female roles (it makes sense in the end)

A/n- Happy @officialrhysandweek! This is just a short cute fic with Rhys and a childhood crush. I like to imagine Rhys was always really smooth with everyone, but someone he felt genuine emotion for. I feel like that's a skill we are still watching him learn to cope with and tackle with Feyre.

✨️Rhysand Week Masterlist✨️Rhys Masterlist✨️Master Masterlist✨️

Arrogant is a strong word, but it fits how you felt about the male in front of you perfectly. Yes, he was beautiful. His hair dark as night, sharp jawline, eyes so deep and blue they almost appeared purple.

But that smirk. That smirk as he touched you, flirting with you so openly as other Illyrian males and females watched in stunned silence. It was enough to make you feel as though all attraction to him was melting away.

“Remove your hand from my hip or I will have my father remove it for you,” that smirk dropped at your words, his eyes growing wide with shock. Rhysand's hand slowly moved off of you, the strategy Cassian had told him to use not working in the slightest on you.

He glanced back to where his brothers were sitting and watching. Nonverbally begging for help. It wasn't that you didn't want him touching you. He knew that just based on your thoughts, but you were almost upset he had.

6 months. 6 months of you two admiring each other from afar, of shared sneaking glances, of occasional words and smiles shared, but you were rejecting him. Rejecting his advances.

“I- I apologize,” he took in a quick breath before trying Azriel's tactic, one that worked for the mysterious and handsome male without fail. “Do you want to go back to my place and talk?” He watched as your face fell, a glare appearing in those normally bright eyes. “I fucked this up, didn't I?” You only nodded and walked away from him, going back to your older brother and his friends.

Rhys returned to his brothers then, grabbing his drink before walking out of the community dininghall.

Cassian chased after him, Azriel not far behind as Cass yelled, “What the hell happened?!”

“Your ideas didn't work.” Rhys had never sounded so small, so insecure. Being a half illyrian came with challenges, but Rhysand had always been strong through them. He faced adversity with the confidence of a male who knew his worth, even if others felt that worth was lower than he did.

“So we make a new plan,” Azriel was stoic in his response. “I know she likes you. I overheard her telling her friends during chores.” The three of them began replotting the next day. For a week, they formed a new plan for Rhysand to charm you into a date, into a walk, anything.

You shook him to his core. Your smile, your playful eyes, your voice. You knocked him off his pedestal and he had no plans in allowing you to walk away without so much as a single date.

The following Saturday was warm, a full moon in the sky, bonfires all around. You were with your friends, all giggling and laughing while your brother stood guard. The two of them were holding eye contact, your brother almost silently begging Rhysand to try again. The two of them liked each other. Trained together frequently. Discussed you even more frequently.

Your family was more forward-thinking. They believed your worth was equal to your brother's, but oddly, you loved chores. You made the choice not to train. You loved keeping a clean home, baking, cooking. You loved your vegetable garden. Perhaps it was that choice that both drew Rhysand to you and made him struggle in dealing with his feelings for you. So many other Illyrian females were happy to crawl into his bed. To rebel for a few hours or all night. Yet you? You had a healthy home. A happy life. There was no need for you to rebel against a heavy-handed father or a cruel mother.

He had been attracted to you since his mother brought him here. A childhood crush he longed to turn to more. It wasn't until Azriel and Cassian came into the picture that he felt it was possible, though. The three of them were always pushing each other. They motivated each other to be there best, to be strong, to be good males. Rhys knew he could be that for you. He could be strong. He could be confident. He could be all you needed him to be if only he gave himself a chance.

He took his beer like a shot before walking over to you, praying to The Mother the second time would be the charm. “Can we talk,” he offered his hand, waiting for you to place your smaller one in it and smiled when you did.

“How was training this week?” You were hoping to help him relax. He loved when you asked about him, loved when you cared about his week.

“Good. Got to fight Cassian hand to hand.”

“Ah, so you lose again?”

He glared at you playfully, “Barely.”

“How quickly did he take you down?”

“I’ll have you know-”

“So quickly then,” you interrupted with a smirk.

“Smartass.”

“Sore loser,” You shrieked as he spun on you, throwing you over his shoulder. “Rhysand!” He could hear you say his name forever. Listen to your laugh on repeat. He tried to keep his confidence with him as Azriel and Cassian gave him thumbs up from the treeline.

They had figured out that it was Rhysand you liked. Rhysand. Not his looks. Not his money. Not his massive wings. Not even the fact that he was heir to the Night Court. It was him. You liked him. You liked how easy your conversations flowed, how kind he was, how easy it was to push his buttons. You liked the friendship you two shared, the moments of vulnerability and innocence.

Shamelessly, he carried you to a blanket and picnic basket he and his brothers had set up, setting you down with little grace. “I brought snacks."

You blinked at his simple statement, “You brought snacks?”

“For our date, yes,” he sat down without further words, opening the basket. “Are you going to sit or just stand there?” He would never admit how insecure he was feeling right now. That anxious bubbly feeling in his stomach threatening to ruin his plan of wooing and courting you.

It wasn't visible to anyone else, but you saw the change in his eyes as you studied him, the way his glance kept flickering to the trees. “You're kidding me,” your gaze followed his. “You brought Azriel and Cassian?”

His face fell and a blush began to spread, “No! I- no!” He stood again, blocking you from looking over into the trees by flaring out his wings. “Just us. You and me. Me and you.”

“And your friend Az?” Rhysand wanted to melt on the spot as you continued trying to look around with him with a bright smile. “You're normally so confident, Rhysand,” you suddenly stopped and just stared at him.

“You bring out my nerves,” he said calmly. “You're beautiful. You're smart. You're lovely. We're friends. You-”

A voice broke from the tree line, “Stop ranting!”

The two of you began to laugh as he sat back down and you followed him. You had never seen him like this before. A ball of nervous energy just looking for an outlet.

“Relax,” you whispered and leaned your head on his shoulder. “Tell me about what Azriel and Cassian are like.”

Rhysand seemed to find his confidence in that touch, that soft reassurance. The coil in his stomach released, his shoulders falling, “I'm the most handsome out of the three of us,” he said loudly, smiling as you nodded. “And the most delightful. Possibly the most cunning.”

“Definately the most humble,” you mumbled, earning a playful glare. As the date went on, he eased more. His rants about Cassian and Azriel caused loud yells to come from suddenly noisy trees at random times.

It became the first date of many in his late teens. A reference point he now used as he stared in the mirror getting ready to take Feyre out.

You had been his gold standard. A childhood crush turned teenage sweetheart, turned first heartbreak, turned sister. You, in all your tenderness, had helped shape him similar to how Cassian had, to how Azriel had. You were his only true romance before Feyre and one of his hardest lessons in his younger years.

He threw a pillow at you as he entered the living room, “Thanks for baby sitting Nyx tonight.”

You put a finger on your nose, a game all too familiar to you and him, and pointed to Azriel, “All him. But you are welcome.” You adjusted his tie for him. “Relax,” that word rang so many memories in his head. “She loves you."

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

[bluelocksource]

Alexis Ness’ trivia (src: EGOIST BIBLE 2)

☆ Character's color: Magical Purple.

☆ Weapon : Illusion Cross.

☆ Birthday: 16th March.

☆ Current age: 18 (at the start of NEL).

☆ Zodiac: Pisces.

☆ Nickname: "The Magician"

☆ Birthplace: Hamburg, Germany.

☆ Family: Father. Mother. Older brother. Older Sister. Himself.

☆ Current height: 181 cm.

☆ Foot size: 28 cm.

☆ Dominant foot: Right.

☆ Blood type: AB.

☆ Visual acuity: 1.0

☆ Grip strength: 53 kg.

☆ Motto: "Magic resides in those who believe."

☆ Team: Bastard München.

☆ Starts playing football: At age 8. "First time I saw it in a stadium. I will never forget that football magic."

☆ Hobby: Discovering magic. "The world is filled with all kinds of magic!"

☆ Favorite food: Sachertorte. "The combo with whipped cream and coffee is the best!"

☆ Dislike/hated food: Herring pie. "My mom isn’t a great cook, and this one is especially terrible."

☆ What goes best with rice:  "Cheese curry, maybe. "

☆ Favorite animal: Flying squirrel. "It's cute and can fly—how fantastical!"

☆ Favorite season: Winter. "A clear winter sky makes feel like I could fly."

☆ Favorite movie: The Notebook.

☆ Favorite music: "The Rose" by Bette Midler.

☆ Favorite football player: Michael Kaiser.

☆ Favorite subject: Ethics & P.E.

☆ Weak subject: Maths & Physics.

☆ Mushroom shoots vs Bamboo shoots: "Probably mushroom. They have cute shape!"

☆ Ideal type: "A strong person who can control their solitude."

☆ Fixation: Lonely expressions. "It makes me feel like I can understand their solitude."

☆ What would make him happy: "When others share in my excitement."

☆ What would make him upset: "The denial of magic I believed in." 

☆ What he thinks his strength is: Valuing the invisible (feelings, wishes, thoughts).

☆ What he thinks his weakness is: Stubbornness. "Not bending on what I believe in (though I don’t really think of it as a weakness)."

☆ What made him cry recently: “I can’t remember. I cry often. My tear ducts are very sensitive... Hehe ♪”

☆ Usual sleeping hour: 6.5 hours.

☆ Number of chocolates received from previous Valentine: 10. "It seems they were delivered to my team! Thank you!"

☆ Place he washes first when taking a bath: His arms.

☆ What will he do if received 100 million yen: "I’d probably consult with Kaiser. I might say something like “I don’t need this crap,” though!"

☆ At what age he stops receiving presents from Santa: "I didn’t have that kind of thing at home. So I prepared my own stockings. Not that he ever came."

☆ What was his last wish from Santa: "Anything was fine. Anything at all."

☆ How he spent his holiday:  "Training with Kaiser. Eating with Kaiser. Shopping with Kaiser. With Kaiser... etc."

☆ What will he do during his last day on Earth: "I hope for a miracle so that day won’t actually be the last."

☆ Favorite historical figure: Joan of Arc.

☆ If he hadn't encountered soccer, what will he be doing: "I wonder if I would still believe in magic."

☆ If he could only take one thing to a deserted island, what would it be: "Kaiser. Wait, is a human not allowed? Then I don’t need anything."

☆ If he had a time machine, would he go to the past or the future: The past. "I would hug my younger self, who believed in magic and cried alone, and tell them, “It’s okay to be just as you are.”"

note: i want to apologize in advance for any mistake made in the translation!

[warping-realities]

Commitment - Part III

Pete woke up around noon, when the clarity filtering through the curtains he had left poorly closed in the bedroom finally forced him to get up from his super king size bed. He stretched and looked to the side as if he expected someone to be there.

Stretching again, he got up, grabbed the latest generation iPhone from the bedside table and walked irritably to the large windows of the room, finally closing the curtains properly. In the darkness he considered the possibility of sleeping for a few more hours, but ended up deciding to take a selfie and forward it to several of his contacts. Taking care to send a private message to Julia.

"Thanks for the night babe. I was hoping you woke me up with a BJ before you left but you'll have the opportunity to redeem yourself tonight."

Without waiting for the dozens of responses he knew he was going to receive, he headed to the bathroom. After a quick shower he stopped to admire himself in front of the gigantic mirror that adorned a good part of one of the walls of his bedroom.

With little interest he finnaly checked his unviewed messages, while putting on gym shorts and a tank top and went down the long stairs of the mansion and headed to the kitchen where the breakfast table was still set out waiting for him. He poured himself black coffee while he waited for the cook to bring a generous helping of scrambled eggs.

After eating, he went to the house's entertainment room, where there was a projector with state-of-the-art sound and his Playstation with countless hours of saved games. After playing for a few hours, he took a pre-workout, got into his Porsche Cayenne and headed to Dan's gym.

His friend's gym covered two spacious floors full of the most modern equipment, with rooms dedicated to different types of exercises and training, from dance classes to martial arts, as well as a space dedicated solely to lifting free weights. When Pete entered the reception he was greeted enthusiastically by the two beautiful receptionists who had curiously received his selfie that morning and were devouring him with their eyes. He naturally flirted back, although they didn't know that would be the most they would get from him. Flirting was one thing, cheating was quite another. After a few minutes of conversation Pete found the person he was looking for. Facing him with a smile was Dan, ready to supervise his workout, one of the few that the busy owner of one of the city's most famous gyms still personally conducted.

"Pete, my man! Ready to pay for last night?"

"Give me your worst." He replied smiling.

The training was intense but smooth. Pete and Dan had known each other and trained together for years, so much so that Pete himself spotted Dan at his exercises. The conversation between the two flowed naturally, ranging from the football season, to cars, to their games, and of course what was most abundant around them, the absurd amount of hot women around them.

"Emily and Rachel are dying for a piece of you, bro."

"You know I'm with Julia, bro. We might not be serious enough to live together, but she's still my girlfriend and I need to respect her."

"Do you respect her sending selfies to half the women at the gym?"

"As far as I know, this doesn't constitute cheating, besides, a little advertising doesn't hurt if things with Julia have any problems."

" And do you have any problem?"

"Ah bro, she pressures me to live together, to leave my parents' house. But why would I do that? With them in Washington I have a beautiful mansion with servants at my disposal. The only thing I'm not allowed to do is bringing a woman to officially live with me until I married. My father and his rules, you know the man. But between having to live in a suffocating little apartment or having all the space and comfort that I'm used to... It's not a difficult choice, besides, I don't I'm ready for that kind of commitment."

"I would never put you and commitment in the same sentence, bro."

"Asshole, don't forget where the money came from to finance all this here."

"I'll never forget brother, but I already paid everything for your father and in reality he's thinking about expanding the academy, turning it into a network, if you join as my partner."

"I don't know man, that's not really my thing."

"Dude, you practically live here."

"Yeah, but this management thing, I don't know."

"I can take care of that part brother. Think about it. A chance for your father to get off your back."

"I'll think about it, I promise. But how about now you focus on helping me with these squats and clearing my view of that hot blonde on the treadmill?" Pete replied, smiling mischievously.

That's my brother! So why don't you take off that shirt and show off the gains on your assets?

"What?"

"Just a little advertising!" Dan quipped, ripping his friend's shirt and exposing his sculpted core muscles to the entire gym.

"Bro, what the fuck?”

"No false modesty, bro! Flex for me!"

With an expression somewhere between exasperated and conceited, Pete did what his friend asked him to do, attracting many glances, including that of the girl on the treadmill.

"Hell yeah, ma man! Now enough of this and let's finish your workout before you get attacked by a horde of women."

"So far you're the only one who's attacked me." Pete replied, still somewhat indignant.

"But it was for a just cause, I bet the blondie must already be finding a way to get to you."

"Too bad she'll only be able to watch..."

"That's for you to decide!"

"Dan, I already told you, I have a commitment with Julia and..."

"OK, OK, I won't say anything else about it, let's finish your workout once and for all!"

After finishing the training, one of the most exhausting of Peter's life, just as Dan had promised, the two stopped to have a protein shake in the gym's cafeteria, where once again Pete was the target of the attendant's gaze.

"And you still want to tell me that you never cheated, bro!”

"Looking doesn't hurt, even less being looked at.”

"You're not fooling me, Pete. But tell me, what are you going to do now? Any projects on the horizon?"

"You know I'm between jobs."

"To be between jobs you first have to have had a job at some point, Pete."

"Asshole, you know I've been helping with my dad's campaigns since I was a kid."

"Ah, I'm sorry. I meant some real job. It must be really hard to smile and show off."

"Hey, it's a lot more tiring than it looks and if there's someone who should know that, it's you, since you need it for your own work."

"Touché! But again, you don't fool me. I know very well how much you like to showing off to others, especially to female voters.

"I said it was tiring, brother, not that I didn't like it." Pete concluded, smiling and being returned with a laugh from his friend.

"Fair enough. But then what are you going to do with the rest of your day?"

"I’ll play a few games with Trev as soon as he gets off work, which should be in about an hour and then I thought I'd take advantage of the afternoon sun to improve my tan in the pool at home and in the evening Julia should come over so we can do something . And by something I mean fuck until dawn."

"It's no wonder your father came after me with this society project, brother, you live like a teenager."

"It's different, I just take advantage of what life offers me, anyone in my place would do the same. In fact, why don't you let the hired instructors take over here and enjoy a pool with me later?"

"I'll think about it, but I don't like leaving the business in other people's hands."

"Look at you all responsible, you don't even look like the guy who did the craziest things in his college days."

"No really, because that guy was you!"

Dan replied, making Pete smile!

"That's you saying, not me. I'll see you later brother!"

To be continued…

[rosewaterandivy]

summary: as far as dinners go, it could’ve been worse.

pairing: e.m. x eldest harrington!reader

w.c.: 990

warnings: accidental pregnancy, attempted bribery, reader a sophomore at Yale, eddie is 20

“So, Munson,” Mr. Harrington says, voice straining at politeness, “Ever heard of condoms?”

Steve chokes on his water as his eyes cut to you. Rolling your lips between your teeth, you hold your tongue despite wanting to do the exact opposite. Eddie cautions you with a quick glance, oddly reassuring.

“I hardly think that appropriate—“

“If you’re old enough to use them, then you're old enough to discuss the consequences, isn’t that right, dear?”

And for all your mother’s effort, she merely shrugs as if to say what can you do? She takes another sip of her wine.

“Dad, you said you’d be polite.” You remind him, spearing a brussel sprout with a particular fury.

“I’m being perfectly nice,” He says icily, “I haven’t even threatened him yet.”

“C’mon,” Steve says, trying for levity. “We can be civil.”

“Of course,” Your father scoffs. “Civil. It’s civil of me to invite you into my home, to dine with the trailer trash that dared laid hands on my—“

“She’s not yours,” Eddie cuts in, a mirthless laugh propelling the words from his mouth. He’s getting impatient, the pull of his upper lip just enough to give him a slight snarl. “She’s not some pawn for you to maneuver across the board anymore, Harrington.” Eddie’s eyes dart to you, calm and collected. “Hasn’t been for some time now.”

“That is enough!” He seethes, playing right into Eddie’s hands. Smoothing down his tie which had become rumpled in his outburst, Mr. Harrington trains his eyes on Eddie with a steely resolve. “I am only going to say this once.”

Eddie sits up a bit straighter in his chair. He can see you’ve abandoned the pretense of eating, fork laid delicately across the bone china plate. Your knuckles turning white as your clutch the arms of the chair. Steve catches your attention and deploys some sibling shorthand Eddie could never quite decipher, before abandoning his seat to stand at your side.

You bite your cheek, hoping the slight pain would mitigate the tears gathering in your eyes, as your brother lays a comforting hand on your shoulder, and wait for the fallout from this dinner party disaster.

Mr. Harrington points a menacing finger at Eddie, all boardroom bravado, and carefully enunciates his words. “Look at me when I’m talking to you, boy.”

Harrington’s barely started his tirade and Eddie’s blood is already boiling. He tongues his canines and forces himself to stare the man down.

“From one… father to another,” He spits the word. “I will not have my grandchild to be raised by the likes of you. As a Harrington, that baby will know exactly who they are, and who they are not.”

He hears your sharp intake of breath, knows he can’t let himself to get distracted right now. Eddie takes a slow breath as your father continues.

“I will not allow you to ruin everything this family has built. You can rest assured that the child will want for nothing. And if you walk away now,” He pulls a paper from his jacket pocket and slides it deftly across the polished table. “I can make it well worth your while.”

“William, you wouldn’t—“ Your mother gasps, wine glass clinking onto the table.

But oh, he would.

In fact, there was not much Mr. Harrington wouldn’t do to preserve the pristine veneer of his family name. And really, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d paid a Munson off.

It would, however, be the first time he’d attempted to bribe the wrong one.

Apparently, the apple fell farther from the tree than he’d bargained for.

“You done now, Will?” Eddie snarls, voice taunting as he rises to his full height and looms across the table. “Must think you’re real hot shit in that three piece suit to what? Try and intimidate me?” He scoffs, eye flitting to the document laid before him. “Have to say, that’s a pretty nifty sum you’ve had your boys cook up there. Too bad you bet on the wrong horse, huh?”

At this, your father’s once confident smirk slides off his face.

“See, you can raise all the hell you want. Drag me through the mud for all I care. You think I give a fuck about that?” He snorts, flicking the paper back down the table. “I know what people like you think of me, and that’s fine. I know who I am.” He pauses, watching the muscle of your dad’s jaw tighten in fury. “I may just be Al Munson’s screw up son to you, can bribe him just like we did the old man. But I think we both know who raised me.”

Eddie watches as the realization dawns on the man, how fantastically he’d miscalculated. Didn’t even have to mention his name, and already had old Harrington sweating bullets.

“I don’t know about you, but I wager there’ll be hell to pay once he finds out you’ve not only slandered his grandchild but also upset his favorite person in the world.”

His mouth, which had fallen open to launch a rebuttal, falls shut. Mr. Harrington eyes him quizzically.

“Oh, me? Nah man,” Eddie shakes his head and nods toward you, standing at the opposite end of the table. “Her.”

He sets his napkin on the table and pushes in his chair, his mama taught him manners after all. “Well Mrs. H., thanks for the swell dinner.”

Eddie’s body is already buzzing as you stride toward him and slot your fingers through his. Pulling him down the entryway, your heels click against the polished marble floor.

He pauses at the door, your mother and father still seated in the dining room as Steve grabs his keys.

“Y’know, I may not have much,” Eddie says, voice raised for them to hear. “But I’ll do right by them, William. No one can stop me.” An elegant bejeweled hand reaches for the door knob, “Though you’re welcome to keep trying.”

[gojos-fr-bae]

Liar pt.3

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Pairing: Gojo x fem!eader

Warnings: Pregnancy, sososos saaaaaad, ands, fluff, drinnking, I LOVE Kouki

Word Count: 1k (not them getting shorter)

A/N: BOO! Didin't see this coming huh? Me neither tbh but i didn't go to school yesterday and boredom was kiiling me sooo.....

Month 5

Satrou (I swear we'll see y/n and Kouki this time, allow me this once)

As Satoru slowly awoke from his restless sleep, unbearable nausea overcame him as he threw his bearley living body to his toilet, regurgitating meals he has no memory of even eating. His mouth burned as he vomited bile, burning his tongue.

He had lost his will to live but life refused to let him go. He forced himself to get up, get ready, and prepare himself for the copious amounts of bullshit he would have to deal with throughout whatever amount of time he is able to remain conscious. 

As he sat under a tree, ungodly amounts of booze already flowing through his system, he watched his students train on the plain before him.

He felt the grass beside him shuffle, the scent of surgical spirit and smoke flooding his senses.

“Hey idiot,” Shoko said, her raspy voice barely reaching his ears.

She turned to face her former classmate as he sat there, silent with a stoic face.

“Are you seriously planning on staying boring forever?”

No Answer

Shoko Sighed as she looked at her friend. Ever since you left he had never been the same. It pained her to see the bubbliest, happiest person she has ever known in such a state. It was worlds worse than when they lost Suguru and she couldn’t help but feel for the guy. She placed her hand on his shoulder and rubbed it slowly, facing him as he stared at nothing.

“Please take care of yourself, and slow down with the drinking, you’re cooking yourself.” she said with a softness that was rare to hear from her.

The doctor rose from her seat and looked down at Satoru, he’ll be okay. Sha’s praying for him to be okay.

Year 1 

Y/N

You woke up and immediately ran to your son’s room, excitement having seeped into every bone in your body .When you walked in and saw you ray of sunshine kneeling against the edge of his crib, bright gummy smile with four front teeth showing and you felt like you were about to EXPLODE.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVEEEEYYYYYY!!!!!!!!” You screamed, picking him up and squeezing him to your chest.

His giggles filled the room and you peppered kisses all over his face. You took him to the living room as he clutched the shirt you were wearing. You walked him to the small living room of your quaint apartment, showing him the cake you stayed up all night baking. You laughed as he put his hand on the cake, smearing it all over his face in an attempt to eat it.

You looked at your son and you felt the love spillover as you couldn't help but tear up at the thought that your precious little angel was growing up. You were so, so proud. But the happiness was slightly soured by the fact that you would have to raise him without his father. You thought about Satoru and where he was right now. From what Megumi had told you, he had taken your disappearance har but he couldn’t really tell you more as Satoru and Megumi barely even saw each other seeing as Satoru buries himself in his work now.

You never hated him and never wished anything bad upon him, but you couldn’t help but miss what you shared, yet when you looked down at your cooing baby, you thought about his future and knew you had done what was best for him. You hope so.

Satoru

Gojo sat in the unoccupied nursery with a blue frosted cupcake in his hands and a number 1 lit candle. He had made sure that he was sober throughout the entire day and night prior just for this occasion. He looked down at the empty crib and pictured you and your child celebrating his first birthday, perfectly happy. 

Without him. 

For all he knew you had moved on to someone else and his child had a loving father taking care of him. Hisalready shattered heart only broke more and yet he was so happy and excited and proud that his son was already a year old.Although he wasn't there to witness it, it still filled him with such innocent joy.

“Happy birthday my love,” He whispered, a lone tear cascading down his cheek.”I love you.”

Year 2

Y/N

You were seated at your desk at 11pm, looking down at all the bills that needed payment by the end of the month. Rent, water, electricity, you need to buy food, clothes, new shoes for Kouki, and on top of all of this, he was meant to start school in September which was only a month away and you aren't sure how you were going to make all these payments on time seeing as your job didn’t pay you enough to handle it.

“Mommy?” you heard a soft voice call at the entrance of the office. At your door stood your precious kikufuku dressed in his kitty onesie and blue and white monkey plushie being dragged on the ground behind him as he held it loosely.

“Baby, what are you doing awake?” you cooed as he waddled towards you and raised his arms as a sign for you to carry him. 

You and your son were extremely attached to each other not only because you were his only parent (technically) but because you worked as customer care you were able to work from home, meaning you two were together 24/7 and it showed.

You placed him on your lap and he immediately snuggled as close to you as possible.

“Sweepy,” he murmured, already falling asleep in your arms.

You looked down at him, kissing his forehead as you realized that you might not be able to give him a life that he deserves. 

But you would, If you went back to teaching.

You didn’t want to get yourself involved with what happened right after his birth again but you needed him to have the best life possible. And if that meant you needed to go back, you had no choice. You had to do it for him.

But at what cost?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Hope this is good😭🏃🏿‍♀️

Also, Thank you to EVERYONE forthe support, almost at 100 followersssss!!!!! Much love❤️❤️

@porridgesblog , @giannitaa , @c0pkiller , @havens-not-here

© gojos-fr-bae

[esggs]

Obeisance to the Arrow - Noritoshi Kamo

#2 - The Ring Ceremony

[noritoshi kamo, 12 is engaged to his bride, 7. gojo satoru says hi.]

tw: forced marriage, child marriage (yes I'll age my characters up, let's have the angst for now), angst, Zenin clan being Zenin clan, noritoshi x reader, no use of 'y/n', fluff a bit, no smut.

#1 - Omiai #3 - Menarche

Growth happens sporadically. For example, you had not grown much in the first eight years of your life. Not much reason to, really. Your cursed technique became clear surprisingly early, at about 3 years of age, and since then you had lived the proper Zenin life. One of abundance, joy and familial love. If you said you wanted that cake, or that flower, or this or that, you had it in your hand immediately. Your father even talked about you being the clan head someday, impossible as it sounded to you. 

It wasn’t like you didn’t know anything about the flip side of it. Your dearest cousins Maki and Mai weren’t as special as you, you noticed. Nor was your mother as important as your father, in fact no aunty or grandma were as important as their husbands. But you were special. Surely you were.

There had been talks about your powers recently, before the Kamos visited you. Your family, the whole horde of them, would test you. It wasn’t very difficult. Curses would be brought out and you would have to use Distillation to choose the best cursed weapon to kill them. You would be shown a missing person report, you had to figure out where the person was. A funner game was the Maze Game, where Grandpa Naobito would leave you in a maze, or labyrinth, or anywhere you didn’t really know, and you would have to find your way out. Compared to school, this was actually more exciting to do. Especially the praise you would get afterwards from everyone. The prodigy of the family. The princess of the castle. 

You, idiot child you were, never really wondered how your family would react if you had happened to fail the tests. You never failed. You never disappointed. 

So it was quite sobering to be sitting in the Pit of Punishment after your attempt to run away. A failed attempt. You were disappointing both yourself and the Zenin clan. 

Naoya Zenin was lounging near the door, not actually letting the curses eat you – just enough to scare you. It was working. You were fucking terrified really, but somehow your cousin being there allowed you to not piss your pants. Naoya was a kind man. 

Mai. Mai come save me. Please. Nii-chan, please come, I can't move. Maki, mother, father, grandpa, please help me. someone, please, help me out.

“Really, little Zenin- oh, should I call you Kamo now?” He laughed. “Is this any way for a lady to behave?”

I’m 8, idiot. What lady are you talking about? 

Was it the ten minutes you spent in the pit, or the past two months of lady-training (as you called it), that made you grow up so fast? Somehow, after your marriage was fixed, handling tea-sets and cooking tamagoyaki became insanely important. But the worst was the lessons on womanly etiquette, on the ways of wifely manners, behaviours and duties. Unlike you, Maki and Mai were free to do as they liked, talk about being sorcerers and travelling to America. Not even they helped you, no one did. Hence came the plan Run-Away-From-Home. You got surprisingly far actually. Distillation was great for this: you could see every lapse in your home security, everything that you needed to carry, every route you should take. You had made it to the Kyoto train station before your family could get a hold of you. 

No longer were you a precious child, but you never really were, were you? You were nothing more than a lucky asset to have. The Zenin clan did not hesitate to earn the returns on you as soon as possible. Unfortunately soon. You are eight.

Naoya walks down the steps into the Pit where you lay curled in a foetal position and prods you with his finger. “Up, Kamo-chan” He grins, “Back to your chambers”. The curses melt away into the darkness. 

The days go by in a blur. Obedience, subservience, wifely duties, be agreeable, be quiet, be attentive, the domain of the kitchen and bedroom, marriage, husband, Noritoshi Kamo. You want to drive a machete through that man’s chest. He’s the cause of all this, yes, it’s all his fault. Now that your marriage has been fixed (and a bride price of 60 million yen wrestled from the Kamo clan) there isn’t actually any care or concern for your previously much praised cursed technique. When you think about it, it isn’t really great in any way, is it? Distillation allows the user to understand everything within the span of their eyesight. Every question answered, every mystery solved, the cloudy waters distilled – as long as you can see it. You suppose Sherlock Holmes would love this power, but you are fated to be a wife and mother, nothing more. Maybe it’ll help you find the broom closet faster. The days and months are all plagued by the same thing: Noritoshi Kamo.

—- 

Satoru Gojo walks about the lavishly decorated garden. Megumi would’ve liked the food, he muses, his stark white mop reflecting sunlight over the heads of the celebrating crowd. A Kamo-Zenin engagement, and all the festivities that came with it. Ah, the celebrations of higher-ups, nothing gets them happier than child marriage. Thank fuck I saved Megumi. He didn’t have much choice in attending this. As the Gojo clan head, there are some things you must do, regardless of personal feelings. To not rock the boat. To keep the status quo as it is. 

The ring ceremony is over, bride-to-be and groom-to-be having identical rings on their hands now, and they have retired back into the inner chambers of the Kamo estate. Blood Manipulation and Distillation? Satoru smiled, worth a visit. 

Satoru Gojo wasn’t expecting any resistance from anyone, because A. he’s Satoru Gojo and B. he wasn’t technically doing anything wrong per se, it’s just that people distrusted his movies meeting the young couple. For good measure, what if I teach the kids the concept of free will?

He found the two sitting by themselves on a veranda, apologising to each other about the marriage. Clearly, people were too busy merry-making to notice the runaway pair. Besides, where would they even run away to? There is nowhere to go. Satoru frowned. They’re too young to be behaving like this. 

“Ah, young love!” He happily startled the two with his sudden appearance, “Do you two turtle-doves have space for a dashing older brother like me?”

They did not return his wide grin and wider arms. Satoru watched as recognition clicked onto both their faces (your father had shown you two a picture of Satoru Gojo and told you to avoid him). The Kamo boy, a lean young man of 12, got up slowly and bowed to him, welcoming him with such formal words. The Zenin bride, a literal child of maybe 8, nodded her head, trying to quickly hide her tears. She said nothing, seemingly hiding behind her brand-new fiancé. 

Satoru laughed at the sight. One day I’ll grind down these motherfucking old ass clans who do this shit to kids, I swear to myself. “Scared of me, little brat?” The poor child, look at her. “Aren’t you the sorcerer with the immense Distillation technique?” 

You glance up at him, eyes still watery. Gojo Satoru is startling to look at. Shocking white hair, a full head taller than most people, blindfolded in broad daylight, the palest skin on his handsome features. And his abounding cursed energy, it stuns (and maybe scares) you. The blindfold doesn’t stop much, his gaze can be felt searing into your skin. There is nothing you can do. Helpless, pitiful, sold like sheep by your own family. And yet– 

“Immense?” 

“Aren’t you the one with all the answers? A prophet of sorts, no?”

What? In all your life, you had never thought of things like that– Could you? Were you?

“Her technique is brilliant, Gojo-sama.” Noritoshi lends a hand. “The way I understand it, a bit like your Six Eyes, yes?”

And before you could remember your wifely training, you found yourself contesting him. “Not really, the Six Eyes help him see, in the physical sense. I understand things that aren’t there really. For example, Gojo-sama can see me through my wataboshi, I am certain, but I can see Gojo-sama’s thoughts on this wedding.” Despite everything, you can't not be you.

Satoru claps his hands together, “Perfect explanation, even though that was a bit creepy” He laughs. “Can you really hear my thoughts?” 

“I’m not sure”

“Try–”

Cursed Technique: Distillation

The crowds outside suddenly falls quiet, so do the other two in your room. There is no movement, no sound, no thought except for yours. Satoru Gojo’s formal shirt is from Junya Watanabe’s recent Summer Collection. His molars hurt because he ate too much daifuku at the dessert station. He disapproves of your marriage, but this is a hill that he cannot die on. He’s had some meaty ginger chicken packed from lunch for his adopted son, Megumi Fushiguro. He thinks Noritoshi is too tall and too mature for his age. He truly is impressed to see your technique. He thinks this is all nonsense, and that you are a child, and that you should enjoy your youth to the fullest as a young girl, not as a wife. He promises that no matter what, he will arrange for you to attend Jujutsu Tech School. 

—--

Satoru Gojo left soon after. After a long time, you saw hope in your future.

#3 - Menarche

pics:

sftish_

2. anime screencap

[A/N: honestly i recently binged the whole manga, i cant cross chapter 210 ish, a beloved character of mine seems to face imminent death, im just not ready for it. plus im procrastinating on an assignment, a viva voce test, 300+ pages of reading and a research project due this month, so have at my random burst of energy

do lemme know if u like it, or if i can make any changes? like chapter's too long, or my writing is a bit unclear, id love to hear feedback :)) ]

[cenittxnadir]

Morning talk with SingleDad! Miguel O´Hara

This is the next part of the series of SingleDad Miguel, hope you like it. I appreciate every comments

It is well known that Miguel has terrible sleep hygiene. He lasts whole days without sleeping and when he has the opportunity to do so, he does so in an uncomfortable chair in his laboratory. He doesn't always manage to get home to have a well-deserved rest, many times he is caught up in things at work or finds himself in some dimension dealing with some anomaly and not to mention possible time changes between dimensions.

They are the worst.

But for Miguel the most difficult thing is to see how little by little he is losing his daughter, he is not always in the best conditions to take care of Gabriela and that is something that little by little kills him inside. Despite the fact that Gaby has made it clear in multiple times that she doesn't mind that her dad can't always be there for her as long as you're present.

For Miguel and Gabriela your arrival was more than a blessing, many would think that they are exaggerating but it is the truth, Miguel felt that he was failing as a father and he felt that he should do more for his daughter, he knew that he had to ask for help but O'Hara was a proud man.

"Of course I can take care of my daughter, have a stable job, protect my city and why not, also safeguard the multiverse and go to my daughter's training sessions on weekends."

Everyone could see how the world was coming down on Miguel, except him.

After you met him at that party, you began to hang out and when you realized the big problem he had, you offered to help him a little, you didn't have superpowers and you weren't a genius, but for Miguel you always had the power to make him feel better about himself and you always managed to keep Gaby happy, and, if Gabriela was happy he was too.

So when Gabriela found out that you would live with them, she was so happy that she kept telling you what their weekends would be like and how they would spend time together non-stop.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Today was one of those rare days when Miguel could spend the weekend at home with his little family. The night before, he had promised Gaby that he would take her to school next day. Today is the other day and Miguel had fallen asleep making Gaby late for school.

Those mornings were chaotic but without a doubt you would never change them.

After Miguel memorized all the commands and instructions that you left in the refrigerator, he took Gaby and put her in the car, starting the car in record time.

During the journey to school they were silent, probably both were still half asleep, neither of them managed to comb their hair. Miguel was the first to break the silence.

"So... how do you feel with her at home? you are happy?" Miguel asked as he leaned his head towards his daughter waiting for an answer without stopping to see the road.

"I really like having her around, also, her food is very tasty. More than yours." Gabriela said between laughs. She liked to tease his dad from time to time. He took food very seriously, it was his way of showing his affection when words did not allow it.

"More than mine..." Miguel repeats in a low voice "Okay, it doesn't bother me. I didn't want to cook anymore anyway." And the drama begins. "It's not like cooking is our favorite thing to do together. No, not at all."

"Just kidding, I like your food, but you have to admit that mom's food is good. You always fall asleep on the couch after eating what she makes" Gaby had the biggest smile he had ever seen.

"Mom? Since when did you call her mom? What am I missing?" Miguel stopped the car at the red light, turning to see his daughter.

Gaby's cheeks were a little red. "Well... I started calling her that after it slipped out by mistake at one of my soccer practices. She said it was fine as long as you and I felt comfortable."

"Mom huh? And what do you think about that? Would you like her to be your mom?" Miguel's tone was definitely serious.

"Yes" Gaby didn't hesitate for a second to answer, it's as if she had already had this conversation in her head over and over again and in none of them would she have said no. Every time she thought about it, you always showed up, at her training sessions, at her school events, God, even she had already thought about how her first mothers day would be with you there at her festival.

"I think she's good for you Pa and if she's good for you and makes you happy, so am I." At that moment Gaby was speaking from the bottom of her heart. "Besides, you're getting old, you're lucky she noticed you" And there it was, the usual Gaby was back, bothering her father in the most affectionate way possible, in the only way a daughter like her and a father like him could show their affection.

"First of all, how dare you. Second I'M NOT OLD, it's the stress. What makes you think I'm old." Miguel kept driving as soon as the light turned green. On the other hand, Gabriela was laughing. "Well, the other day I heard you tell mom that your back and knees were starting to hurt. That's for old people"

"For the sake of my health, I'm going to ignore the fact that my precious daughter called me old. What I mean is that if I ask her to marry me, would you be okay with that?"

"Definitely, if life had given me to choose who my mother would be from the beginning, I would choose her, in this and in all universes. If one day you two separate -I hope not- I would choose to go with her. I think that that makes it clear what I think."

Miguel remained silent for a while, getting closer and closer to the school entrance. "Well, I think the decision has been made" Miguel said as he accelerated.

"You just passed the school entrance" Gaby was confused "Where are we going?"

"To the mall" Miguel just shrugged his shoulders as if it were something obvious

"For what?" Gaby only saw how her school was moving away from her sight

"To buy an engagement ring"

"That's good because I was going to tell you that I forgot my backpack at home"

"AY GABRIELA!"

[twstgarden]

❀ ❝ general 𝗱𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀 ❞

━ lilia vanrouge x fem! fae! reader ━ what would it be like to be married to lilia vanrouge?

do not steal or translate without my permission.

being married to a powerful fae like lilia has its ups and downs. he was a remarkable husband and a father of two lovely children. he showers you with so much love and takes care of the kids very well. on the other hand, lilia is a retired general of the royal army and he's in charge of raising the young prince, so it was pretty common that there are others who are foolish enough to try and harm him.

and if they can't get to him, well... you'll be their target.

but alas, those enemies of his are foolish to think they can harm another fae like you.

"my love, stay away from them."

that's what he would always say whenever he sees you approaching a person or a group of people that he deems unworthy of your kindness and attention. you would always excuse his behaviour as being protective and never questioned him.

there are times when he'd try to cook for you and the kids as a way to show his appreciation, but it always ends with you whisking him away from the kitchen and cooking the meal instead, saying that he deserves some rest after a long day of caring for the young prince.

"allow me to make dinner for us both and our lovely children."

a smile was seen on his lips as he said those words, but the idea of him making dinner surprised you as you tried to talk him out of it, allowing you to be the one in charge of the kitchen.

"oh...! um... it's alright, my love. i'll handle it, you need your rest."

when he's not busy, he's spending time with you and the kids. he would be carrying them and playing around with them as you stand by him and smile at the adorable sight. he would often embrace you and your twin children to show how happy he is to have a family with you.

he never misses the opportunity to tell you how much he loves you, whether through gifts or little actions. "you mean the world to me, beastie~" cooed lilia as he pulled you close. giggles escaped your lips as you cast your magic on household items to let them do the chores on their own. you turned to face your husband and wrapped your arms around him, resting your forehead on his shoulder.

"i'd give up all my riches just to be with you," you replied back as you stole a kiss on his cheek. he had a goofy grin on his face before chuckling and planting a soft kiss on your lips, "you have my heart for eternity."

when he isn't declaring his love for you, you both would be spending time with the children. lilia loves to teach them how to fight, while you show them how to use their magic.

"mama! mama! look! i can make it rain now!" exclaimed your child. a proud smile found its way onto your lips as you spoke, "great job, darling! you'll get a cookie as a reward."

"what about me, mama? look! papa taught me how to slice this wooden dummy! hyaa!" spoke your other child, a son with silver hair, as he swung his sword and sliced a dummy in half. the same proud smile was still present on your face as you clapped your hands, "marvellous, both of you. you both will get cookies as a reward~"

"yay~!" cheered the children. "what about me, love?" asked lilia. you turned to look at him with bored eyes, though you had a smug grin on your face. "you are not getting any cookies," you spoke. lilia pouted before the mischievous glint in his eyes showed up as he replied, "will a kiss change your mind?"

"wha━ not in front of the children, vanrouge!"

overall, life with lilia is a wonderful experience. you wished this would last forever, though it seemed too good to be true. however, the future is nothing to worry about for now. it's best to enjoy your time while they are still with you. lilia and your children are the best gifts bestowed on you.

© twstgarden 2023 || please do not steal, translate without my permission, or use this to train a.i.

[sisterofsomeone]

Till Death Do Us Part

Chapter 1/10

Chapter 2

Summary: On a wedding day in Baldur’s Gate, a marriage is sealed with a sanctified bond. A powerful magic that allows your minds to meld and cannot ever be undone. It is also required to share your darkest secret for the bond to be bestowed. There is a common myth passed around that once, a very long time ago, a woman was tricked into marriage by a demon of sorts and only found out when they wed. Every wedding at that moment the room falls silent, waiting for another scream, another myth making secret to be revealed. You just never thought you would be witness to it.

Series Warnings: Wonwoo x fem!reader, slight Seokmin x fem!reader (because I can't help myself), established relationship/situationship, angst, fluff, swearing, drinking, smoking, there are references to end game BG3 and spoilers for the whole game so please proceed with caution! smut MDNI 18+, unprotected sex, pet names (baby girl, pretty girl, princess), oral sex (male and female receiving), breeding kink, slight daddy kink, size kink, reader has a vagina that gets described as a pussy/cunt, slight dub-con for a second then clear consent, (more will be added as the series goes on!)

Word count: 3.5K

Author's note: Hello again! I was originally going to write this as a oneshot, but I just kept writing and writing and felt that I really wanted to try and flesh this world out. So, it's becoming a series! I cannot promise regular updates as I am in my final year of university, and start back up at my graduate job in september, but I am really enjoying writing this so I'm aiming for at least once a month, but maybe more. I do also have another series in the works which I want to post soon as well, so keep on the lookout for that one! I’ve never written anything like this before so bear with me if it’s not very good! Please enjoy, I really do hope this is entertaining for you, and have a wonderful day/afternoon/evening! Lots of love, Caitlin <3

This is a work of fiction and in no way is meant to represent the actions, ideals, or attitude of the idol Jeon Wonwoo.

Baldur’s Gate. The jewel of the Sword Coast. Granted, you never knew there was supposedly a dragon sleeping under the city before the invasion, but still. A wonderful place to live. Life here was easier for someone like you, the eldest daughter of the Apothecary Merchant. Father had spent most of the money he made to dress you in the finest of clothes, hire chefs to teach you to make the finest of meals, and ensure you were surrounded by the best trained ladies in waiting possible. Status meant everything to him, and you knew you had to marry up to please him. Being the eldest of three girls, you were schooled in house making, cooking, mathematics, business, politics- anything and everything that would endear you to one of the knowledgeable and wealthy bachelors your father was hoping to wed you to. Your younger sisters however were afforded the luxury to follow their throws of passion and learn dance, music, or geography to teach and travel. You didn’t much care for home making, your fascination with the foul words in other languages usually left your tutor giggling after you begged her to teach you them. You were smart, quick with numbers and well versed in politics and business. It was something your father loved about you. The daughter that would lift them even higher in status. You were his political pawn.

You were with your mathematics tutor when she burst through the door. Your mother, her face flushed, chest rising and falling rapidly with her heavy breaths.

“The- The King wants you to attend the ball.” She spoke. “The ball for the princes to choose their brides. He has called for you specifically.”

“Oh?” You didn’t so much as look away from your work, still toying away with the problems in front of you.

“Yes! Oh Gods girl, what are we to do with you?” Your tutor excused himself as your mother swanned towards the large windows. She was as dramatic a woman as you had ever met, and you loved her for it. Turning to face you, her dress billowed, and it struck you yet again how beautiful she was. You knew she used to be the catch; the young daughter of a cattle farmer swept into the Sword Coast by her wild fancies and taking Baldur’s Gate by storm. She married your father in a rather quickly arranged match, both being only 21 and your bump already starting to show through her clothes. She had always held a special place in your life, and the closeness in age only solidified your bond.

“You’re to help me avoid it. You know I want nothing to do with the royal family.” You raised an eyebrow, smirk playing on your lips as you turned another page in your book.

“It’s such a shame. You should go, if not for yourself but for me. It says and family and you know how much your sisters and I would love it!” Her fingers danced across the edge of the paper, twirling the red silk ribbon that used to hold the envelope closed as she read and reread the words.

“You know, there must be a specific reason they invited you. I heard only four girls and their families were invited specifically by name.” He voiced wavered, tone light, eyes meeting yours with that twinkle you knew meant trouble. Sometimes it felt like you were the parent in this.

“Will I need a new dress?” With that she squealed and swept you into her arms.

“Oh darling! You are going to love this!” Untangling her arms from around you she ran from the room and to the staircase.

“Girls! Darling! Come downstairs, your sister has an announcement!”

It was dark outside when you were finally allowed to rest. Your mother had dragged you and your sisters around every tailor in the city, eventually settling on a beautiful, glittered gown from the Facemaker’s that made it look like you were dripping in starlight. Your sisters marvelled at you, them seemingly more excited for your prospects than you were. As you stood before the full-length mirror, watching the way light danced across the dress you caught your own breath. You stood tall, the shimmering fabric laying against your body as if made solely for you. Your face now seemingly had the allure you always attributed to your mother, the colour of your eyes mirroring her own beautiful hue. It was the first time you felt a fraction as beautiful as her. That’s why you let your mother buy the dress, but you’d never tell her that.

The evening was warm as you took a book from the library and made your way to the balcony. Lighting the lamp on the table you slipped yourself onto the velvet covered seat and pulled the small blanket around your legs, hiking them up to your chest. It was here you sat, absorbed in the words of scholars until a small cough caught your attention. This was routine at this point, so you put your book down and pulled yourself from the seat, dangling a hand over the railing in front of you before leaning your head over. The man clasped your hand and smiled up at you.

It had all been an accident, you meeting Seokmin and Wonwoo. You weren’t supposed to be walking unescorted to Sorcerers’ Sundries, well technically you weren’t supposed to be walking there at all, but what Father didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. You had stopped but for a moment to watch the magic show at the front entrance when you felt a hand dip into your pockets. You grasped their wrist and turned, only to be met with a small child.

“I’m-I’m so sorry miss, please let me go.” The tiny tiefling looked terrified, eyes wide and lower lip trembling. Immediately you dropped your guard, gaze softening and grip on their arm loosening.

“Child, no need to be scared I won’t call the Fists. But let’s not go picking anymore pockets hm?” They nodded, thanking you as they scurried away. Thats when you heard the laughter. Two tall men, eyes dark and trained directly on you and the scurrying child.

“What are you two laughing at huh?” The slightly broader one cocked an eyebrow at you, and the other pointed behind you. There you saw the scared tiefling, not so scared anymore as them and their friend – who you hadn’t noticed until now – were poking their tongues out at you as they waved a purse above their heads.

“That’s mine!” You shouted as they hurried off, tails wagging and giggles filling the dark streets.

“You fell for that hook line and sinker.” One of the hooded men let a plume of smoke escape his lips and curled them into a smile. “Are you new here or something?”

“No, no. Look at her, she’s a sheltered little princess I bet.” The other said, closing the distance between you and him. You finally got a good look at him. Dark eyes, golden tanned skin, a smile spread across his face that lit a fire in your stomach. He leaned down, face now only inches from yours. “Such a sheltered little princess, aren’t you?” There was an earthiness to him, a woody smell that danced under a zesty citrus. This was no commoner’s perfume.

“Who are you?”

Wonwoo’s eyes shone from below you on the balcony, that same smile lighting that spark deep in your soul. He was intelligent, worldly, but most of all, he was kind. He climbed up the balcony as usual, pulling you into his embrace and kissing you. It was hot, fiery and passionate. It always felt like he was swallowing you whole, devouring every part of you. He pushed you backwards, lowering you into the plush of the loveseat as his body covered your own. His mouth never left yours, tongue playing against your bottom lip as you gave him entrance. He moaned, fingers running through your hair and pulling, revealing the length of your neck to him. He kissed down it, careful not to leave any marks as he did so.

“My beautiful girl, my pretty girl.” His lips left a searing trail down to your chest, his hands trailing down your sides, bunching up your dress to reach your core.

“Wonwoo, baby, we can’t. Not tonight.” It was almost useless, his lips never stopped working against your neck, teeth nipping at your pulse point. “Wonwoo, baby.” A whine left him that had a throb course through your body and set that flame burning.

“Don’t tell me to stop baby please.” He kissed you again, hands never stopping their assault on you. “Please don’t tell me I can’t play with my pretty girl’s pretty pussy.” His eyes darkened, teeth bit down harder, and you could almost feel the punctures from his canines.

“This pretty pussy has been invited to the King’s ball. This pretty pussy might have just been sold off by her ever-scheming father.” He stalled at this, hands stopping their assault and mouth leaving your skin.

“What?” His eyes were trained on yours as you swallowed thickly.

“We got the invitation today. Gods know how he did it. But he did.” Wonwoo moved off you, settling into the space beside you.

“Are you happy? With the idea I mean?” You let out a short laugh, cold and harsh.

“Happy? Why would I be happy? No one has ever seen them, been allowed near them, and what? I’m supposed to marry one of them. Be used as breeding stock. Finally put all this stupid training to use.” He laughed softly from beside you.

“You think this is funny? My life being sold off to the highest bidder and you laugh?”

“No! No, it’s not like that I promise.” His arms were around you again, pulling you into his chest. “I think there’s more to this than you know. Go to the party. You might be pleasantly surprised that’s all.” His lips were on yours again. “And no matter what happens, I’ll never let anyone else touch you the way I do.”

The morning broke through your curtains and the man beside you stirred. His chest was warm beneath your cheek as you kissed the arm draped around you.

“Darling, you must go before we get caught. Again.” He groaned, rolling the pair of you over, trapping you beneath him. That smile was back, softly lit by the warm glow of the sun pouring in through the windows. “Wonwoo, baby please.” His lips were soft against yours, pouring love into you like there was no tomorrow. His fingertips danced across your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake. He rolled his hips into you, want evident at the broken gasp that left his lips. “Wonwoo baby.” You moaned out, fingers moving to his shoulder blades. He rolled his hips again, the slickness of your cunt allowing for him to rock smoothly and bump his cockhead into your clit. “Wonwoo, we can’t.” But your body gives you away, the roll of your hips as you shake beneath him has him lining up instantly.

“Princess, say no right now and I won’t do it. But say yes and I’ll give you a baby. I’ll fuck you so full it has no option but to stick. You’ll be mine.” Your lips chased his as you nodded frantically against him.

“Yes Wonwoo, yes yes yes.” He pushed in, cock stretching you as you raked your nails down his back. His thrusts were deep, angling his hips to hit that spot inside of you.

“My princess wants a baby yeah? Wants me to fuck her full?” He growled into your ear, hips smashing into yours.

“Please, wanna make you a daddy.” You purred back. His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers rubbing circle after circle into your swollen clit as you arched up into him. He never stopped kissing you, never stopped whispering praise into your mouth as you came around him.

“Please Wonwoo, want you to fill me up. Please.” You dug your nails into his skin, drawing a hiss from him. He’s panting, sweat lining his forehead as he thrust into you again and again, bringing you to orgasm over and over until you couldn't take it anymore. He pushes you over the edge again and again, having you crying his name into his mouth over and over as you beg for him to finish in you, mark you as his.

But he doesn’t. He pulls out as he always does and finishes onto your thigh. It’s over then, the light shifting to a cold blue as the sun shifts behind a cloud. He moves away from you, gathering his clothes and dressing.

“When will I see you again?” He pauses, eyes meeting your own.

“You won’t see me like this for a while. At least, not this version of me.” You don’t know what that means, but he doesn’t give you any time to ask as he kisses you again so softly. His hand caresses your face, thumb rubbing your cheek as a tear falls from his face and onto yours. “But you will see me again, I promise.” As he pulls away, he places a final kiss on your forehead before stepping back towards your balcony. You let him go like you always do, but not without that horrible hole ripping through your chest.

The night of the ball drew closer, and there was no sign of Wonwoo or his brother. You were alone. The lessons ramped up, your father wanting there to be no chance of failure. You were his pawn, and he was so ready to make that final check. Your mother tried to get through the walls you put up, your sisters gushed every day about how lucky you were, how you were going to have the life of your dreams. But you weren’t. You wouldn’t be with Wonwoo. Wouldn’t be able to kiss him again, wouldn’t be able to hold him. You’d never be able to make him a dad.

“Your invitation madam?” Your mother was positively glowing with excitement, your sisters each hanging off one of your arms, you suspect to stop you from running. Your mother presents the invitation, and the guard cocks an eyebrow. “Please, this way for special guests.” You were escorted towards a separate entrance, a large pair of white wooden doors beset by giant boars on each side. The doors were parted for you, and the entrance was the most beautiful you’d ever seen. You were ushered inside, your sisters gasping and pointing at the artwork lining the walls. But your eyes were drawn to the three other girls.

“They’re your competition child.” Your father pulled you aside from your sisters and scanned you from head to toe. “But you’ve got a brain to best all of them. Be smart, be strong. Be the girl I raised you to be.” You glanced back over to them. Each one you knew to be a member of one of the aristocracies, as you were. You vaguely remember having a run in with the half-elf, but if she remembered you, she gave nothing away in the cold gaze she returned.

“If everyone is now here?” A voice sounded from the stairs above you. Your eyes followed where it was coming from, and the woman you saw standing there was the most beautiful you had ever seen. Dark eyes, with even darker hair cascading down her back that held soft curls that bounced as she began to walk towards you all. You had never seen this woman before, but something pulled at you from your stomach as if you recognised her.

“You are all chosen specifically by the princes themselves. My sister's sons wouldn’t allow for our intervention, so feel very lucky. Some of you would never have made it this far.” Her eyes fell on you at this, and your father bristled beside you. “Now, if you’ll follow me.” She sauntered towards the large doors across the marbled floors. You moved to follow the queen's sister, silently cursing yourself for not recognising her as your legs pulled you along before your brain could think of a reason to turn and run. She demanded that the girls line up, manhandling you all into a line with you left on the end. Your families were to follow along behind, and not say a word.

There was a commotion behind the doors, music filled whatever room you were about to be ushered into and laughter and conversations could barely be heard through these giant doors. You tried to smooth out the non-existent wrinkles of your dress, hands moving on their own as you chewed on your bottom lip.

There was a moment of silence before the doors swung open, and an even longer moment of silence when all the eyes in the ballroom fell upon you. Your gaze flitted from person to person, not a single face you couldn’t put a name to. Families with daughters much better suited for this match burned holes into your skull from jealousy. You were standing there, with the whole world at your fingertips and their daughter wasn’t.

You were ushered down the steps before you, the sea of people parting as the four of you made your ways forward. Your eyes were on the floor as you had been instructed to do so, never for a second daring to look upon the men sitting at the other end of the ballroom.

“This is the half-elf Carmae of the Boat Merchant.” You were right about recognising her then.

“This is the high elf Dauphine of the Gold Merchant.” You heard her light steps, the small “Hello sirs.” that sounded so beautiful falling from her lips as she greeted the men.

“This is the wood elf Avalynne of the Cloth Merchant.” You were next.

“This is the human Y/n of the Apothecary Merchant.” You stepped forward, curtseying as you were taught, eyes moving up to acknowledge the men before you.

“Hello sirs-“ Those eyes. That smile. Wonwoo sat before you, hand rested on his chin as he surveyed you. You felt a churning in your stomach as you let your eyes fall upon Seokmin beside him. His soft curls sat upon his head as he smiled ever so softly at you.

“We can now begin.” The music started up again as the crowd of people swallowed you up. Your sisters beamed at you as people swarmed you. They wanted to know where you got your dress “The Facemaker.” You politely replied. Who did your hair? “My mother wanted to.” You smiled at them. You were pulled from conversation to conversation. Every family wanted a piece of you. But your mind was back on Wonwoo. Your heart calling out to him across the floor.

His eyes followed you, dark and cold like you’d never seen them before.

“Wonwoo, calm down. She’s yours I’m not going to take her.” Seokmin leant over to his older brother, giggling slightly at the older man’s demeanour.

“I know you’re not. But they might.” He followed his brother’s gaze to the men being introduced to you by their fathers. “It seems like being the prince’s chosen gives a girl a certain…” His eyes scanned the crowd of men now surrounding you. Your father ever so keen to get you introduced to as many of them as possible. You were trying to be amicable, that soft smile on your face hiding the discomfort you felt. The burn of jealousy coursed through his veins as he watched you laugh and smile at these fools. If only they knew what he’d done to you, the noises he could pull from you with just his tongue or fingers. The way you beg him to cum in you, the tears in your eyes as he fucks you through another orgasm. You’d be too much for those idiots, they couldn’t make you feel how he did. Couldn’t make your body react the way he did.

“The princes will now have their first dance with each of the chosen.” Wonwoo and Seokmin stood, and the floor was cleared again. You finally found yourself walking back towards the man who held your heart in his hands and smiled. Wonwoo noticed that it finally reached your eyes.

“It is lovely to meet you Y/n.” He placed a soft kiss against the back of your hand.

“It is my honour sir.” You smiled even wider this time as he drew you closer as the music began.

“I hope you’re a good dancer.” He flashed you that dazzling smile once more as the music began up again.

“I hope you are too sir.” You felt the flush creep up your cheeks as the two of you started to dance. Your eyes glued to his as he led you across the floor, his never once leaving yours. You finally got what he meant that morning. While this was a surprise, you’d help him play the part for as long as it took to get your Wonwoo back.

[gatheringbones]

[“Terry’s hair was long & thick, bleached blond, perhaps because she wanted to be a princess in a fairy tale instead of real. We wrote letters to one another, passionately declaring our eternal love, which the technicians stole. One night when she was sitting on my bed in the dorm after lights out, as I brushed her hair, they threw on the lights in a frenzy of disgust & separated us for being lesbians. We were too drugged and too frightened to do more than hold hands. The head nurse was a lesbian, who called Terry’s mother, who came the next day to take her home to her psychiatrist father, to whom she had not spoken in over four years. I was sent to the old women’s ward for punishment, where my job was to feed the bed-bound ladies, some of them in restraints all the time. The stench of urine & untreated cancer was overwhelming. I wrote long, intense letters to Terry, which I could not send, hiding them under my green plastic mattress. Terry’s stars are deep burgundy, & I bleed into the other colors when I mourn that we never made love.

Then Maggie was dragged onto our ward, in hot pink tights & purple smock, her teeth glittering with mischief Far from being depressed by the surroundings, she sang bawdy songs to the old ladies she fed, opening our misery with laughter. She was from a wealthy Marin family who sent her there to straighten her up & scare her into agreeing to marry the man they wanted to sell her off to, although they wouldn’t say it like that (she did). Somehow her wedding veil was among her belongings. She liked to wear it to the vast dining barrack because it annoyed the nurses so much. It was very beautiful, expensive lace which she trailed behind her like indifference. One day Maggie & I decided to get married. The guy who thought he was jesus was happy to perform our ceremony, held in the courtyard of our adjoining wards, surrounded by hundreds of old glass windows barred with iron grates. I wore Maggie’s veil & my Napa State Hospital white cardigan tied to make a train. We both carried huge bouquets of lilacs, which were blooming wildly in that hot, dry country. All our patient guests cheered & clapped so loudly that we couldn’t hear what jesus was saying. We only got to stroll down the sidewalk, showered with rice that Edith had filched from the kitchen where she was one of the cooks, before our union was rudely interrupted by burly male guards straining with anger in their white uniforms.

Everyone was locked down, some of us in solitary, & the bells went off for riot alert. Maggie’s poor veil was ripped apart by their feet & rage & arms. The head nurse (another lesbian) called Maggie’s mother that night, & before I had a chance to kiss her hello & goodbye, Maggie was driven away the next morning in her father’s limp-dick limo (her words again), as we ate our powdered eggs, silently depressed.

However, Maggie was a very sneaky & smart girl. She calmly arrived the following day in her VW bug (custom-painted purple, as are her stars) & said she had come back to collect her belongings, which no one had thought to pack up. Her mother, a master materialist (probably hoping for the veil), was very understanding. The hospital wanted to be accommodating in hope of future funds. So Maggie surprised me by returning to busily pack up not very much. We weren’t allowed to talk, & the nurses were watching us sharply until Ursula, understanding our need, threw her tennis shoe at the TV, screaming. Maggie palmed me a note to meet her by the lilac hedge behind the building, where she had conveniently parked. I left as though going to my new job at the dairy (cow shit apparently being a step up from human shit). The other women realized Ursula’s intentions & took off their keds, too. My last sight of that day room (where I had been declared incurably schizophrenic) was of flying sneakers, screaming technicians, breaking glass, & laughing patients—a really lovely melee. Because, of course, Maggie had returned to rescue me. We pulled out the backseat of her bug & I lay down across the battery. She laid a Mexican blanket over me, while I tried to project looking like a backseat. She piled her boxes, mostly empty, on top of me. The guards at the main gate were distracted by another call from the ward where the women who weren’t strapped down could not be contained. Maggie smiled, they gave her back her driver’s license, & off we went. On the other side of town, Maggie freed me from my seat charade & I tasted the wind in my hair for the first time in more than a year. She drove me to Big Sur, where I’d never been & they wouldn’t look for me (I had seven previous escapes, which is why I was on the violent ward so often, a curious juxtaposition—is freedom indeed violence, for lesbians?). In her trunk she had a sleeping bag, some food, money, & clothes that didn’t say Napa State on them for me. She dropped me near an overpass under which fellow fugitives of all kinds were camped, driving back to Marin, where perhaps she did escape marrying him. My belongings & three cartons of writing may still be in a dusty storage room at Napa. I guess I’m AWOL. Freedom’s worth the loss. If not for Maggie, I’d still be in the loony bin, incurable & terrified, not allowed to be a lesbian except with technicians. But I ripped that nurse out of the quilt.

Big Sur was rich with empty summer houses we raided for canned goods as a gang of teenage runaways, Vietnam War deserters, Rez escapees & drug dealers. We caught and roasted a wild pig. We hid out from the park rangers. We flirted with soldiers from the base for bags of potato chips, Hostess lemon pies, & chocolate bars. It was my theory we wouldn’t get scurvy if we ate the pies. We dropped acid & had orgies & stole into the mud baths at night. I was in a fog & detoxing from the nuthouse drugs, until one dusk when my eyes became diamond sharp at the sight of a thin young guy getting out of a hitchhiking ride at the convenience store near the campgrounds. He had black wavy hair cut in a DA falling forward over his face, wearing a leather motorcycle jacket that oozed sex. Our eyes caught across the parking lot & I fell in love like slamming into earth. I walked over, offering my open bag of BBQ pork rinds. Her reaching hand made me laugh & I blurted out, “I thought you were a guy.” She looked me up & down intensely, startled me by stroking my crotch with a quick secret movement, & growled, “Good.”]

chrystos, from cherry picker, from a woman like that: lesbian and bisexual writers tell their coming out stories, 2000

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Whiskey Kisses

Part of my 900 Followers Celebration!

Request: HI CONGRATS ON 900 FOLLOWERS!!!!! could I please request “admit it. you used to have feelings for me,” with Roy Kent? 💙💙

Roy Kent x Reader

1.4k words

Warnings: Language, drinking

“You’ll never guess who’s joining us for dinner!” your mum squealed as she scurried around the kitchen, her question greeting you as you walked through the door after work.

“Nan?” came your flat answer as you grabbed a slice of tomato from her cutting board.

Her sneaky giggle told you that no, it was not your grandmother.

A half hour later, you were still blinking in shock. Roy fucking Kent was sitting next to you in the dining room, sipping a beer and eating your mother’s cooking while chatting nonchalantly with your dad.

You hadn’t seen Roy in… five, six years? Your parents were close mates, and the two of you had always been friendly. There was always an offer for you to join your parents at Richmond matches when he sent over tickets, but something always came up, stopping you from going. Apparently he came over for dinner about every six months or so, something your mother had conveniently forgotten to mention when she insisted on you coming tonight.

Dinner was as normal as dinner could be, with Roy politely asking you questions about work and what you’d been up to since the last time you saw one another. He seemed particularly interested when you mentioned breaking up with your long-term boyfriend, the dull one who was obsessed with the fact that you vaguely knew a professional footballer.

“Never did get him that autograph he wanted,” you teased, knocking your shoulder into Roy’s, suddenly overcome with that old familiarity of two people who’d grown up around each other.

Roy snorted, shooting you a grin, the one you remembered fondly. “He wasn’t getting one from me.”

“No?” You raised your eyebrows.

“Fuck no. I hated that prick.” He wrinkled his nose as you allowed the subject to drop.

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to Roy Kent. Or at least, you had been. There was a time when you were about sixteen when you stupidly thought you had a shot with him and kissed him at a party, in your bedroom where the two of you were sharing the bottle of whiskey he’d nicked when your parents weren’t looking. He’d kissed you back, being a horny sixteen-year-old boy, but never spoke of the incident again. The next thing you knew, he was making his debut and dating models and actresses. And he became nothing more than a charming anecdote you could share at the pub after a few drinks, someone you politely said hello to at your parents’ garden parties when he could find the time to make an appearance.

After dinner and dessert, you announced that you should start walking home. Roy was immediately on his feet.

“Let me drive you.”

So, you wound up in that giant black car, the one your father felt the need to tell you about after Roy had bought it, alone with Roy Kent for the first time since that night in your childhood bedroom. And, much to your displeasure, you felt just as nervous as you’d felt then.

When his car pulled up to your house, you turned and did the polite thing, knowing the answer would be no: “Come in for a nightcap?”

You fully expected him to decline, to say something about being in training in the morning, to explain that he had a party to get to, or to mumble something about a date he was late for. Instead, he turned off his car with a “Sure, why not?”

For the second time that night, you found yourself surprised to be sitting next to Roy Kent, this time on your couch, once again sharing a bottle of whiskey.

At first, the conversation stumbled, with you asking questions you already knew the answer to about his football season and his sister, who you really should call sometime, and him repeating questions from dinner about your work and asking if you were really done with your ex or if it was just a break, because if so, he was sorry for calling him a prick. But, as you poured a second and third round, he relaxed into your couch, an arm draped behind you and you leaning into it, wondering if he remembered that night as vividly as you did.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen your house,” he murmured, glancing around the living room. “It’s nice.”

“Thanks,” you managed, trying not to focus on the warmth of his arm. “I like it.”

He glanced down at you, smirk playing on his lips. “Fucking throws you back, doesn’t it? Alone, sharing a bottle. Might not be your bedroom, but I guess this is technically yours.”

He remembered. “Yeah,” you chuckled, tucking some hair behind your ear so you could focus on something besides Roy Kent sitting on your couch with his arm around you. “We were just silly little kids then.”

“It sure didn’t feel silly then.” He turned to face you properly, drink completely forgotten in his hand now. “Admit it. You used to have feelings for me.” There was definitely an edge of teasing in his voice, something you hadn’t heard in ages and didn’t even know you missed until this moment. But there was something else, something more serious, something almost hopeful.

You rolled your eyes, hoping to diffuse the quickly growing tension. “I was sixteen and had been drinking. I’d have kissed any fella was in that room with me.”

His grin didn’t fade. “Sure, sure,” he murmured, his hand coming up from the back of the couch to brush some hair out of your face. “Guess I was just lucky to be that fella,” he hummed.

The whiskey lowering your defenses, you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, must’ve felt really lucky, the way you never spoke about it again.”

“I mean…” Roy bit his lip and let out a breathy chuckle. You weren’t sure you’d ever seen him look… nervous? “Come on. The girl I fancied fucking kissed me and then I had to head back to Sunderland in the morning. Didn’t think I had the right to- to ask you to, I don’t fucking know, wait for me or some shit.”

Oh.

“You fancied me?” You didn’t bother hiding your own smile.

Bashful looked good on Roy Kent. “Fuck off, you know I did.” His thumb stroked your cheek. “Always thought you were gorgeous. Smart. Funny. Only girl I ever met who knew how long a keeper can hold the ball.”

“Six seconds,” you answered automatically, a hint of bragging in your voice.

“You were my fucking dream girl,” Roy teased, his hand still on your face.

You squirmed, trying not to lose the warmth of his touch. “That’s a lot of past tense there, Kent. Guess I blew my shot?”

His mouth opened, but no sound came out at first. He closed it and opened it again, finally finding his ability to speak. “You’d never blow your shot,” he said, his voice low. “Not with me.”

Praying you weren’t making a total fool of yourself, you leaned forward to close the space between you, space you knew had been there for a long time. Suddenly, you were sixteen again, Roy Kent’s mouth on yours, tasting like whiskey and delight. Sure, there was a beard scratching your face that hadn’t been there last time, and the sounds of your parents and their friends shrieking with laughter wasn’t coming in through the windows, but the exhilaration and joy were still there. And the feeling of his tongue skimming against yours still sent electricity through your whole body; you couldn’t help but think that he was much more skilled with it now than he was as a teenager.

When you parted, there was that same breathlessness, those same expressions of bashfulness and embarrassment, the same questions being exchanged between your gazes. Except this time, Roy did something he didn’t before.

“Think we could have dinner sometime?” You’d never heard this kind of nervous hesitation in his voice before. You liked knowing you were the cause of it. “Without your parents.”

“That would be nice.” You set down your glass and scooted closer to him. “You’re a much better kisser than you were at sixteen,” you teased, taking his glass and setting it down next to yours.

He grinned. “You sure? Think I might still need some more practice. Care to help me with that?”

He didn’t need to ask twice.

[sneaky-eel]

Sense Ubisoft decided to give us jack shit on Desmond's mother I wanted to do my own little head-canon of her.

Desmond's mother is a cold, no-nonsense woman. A prodigy in her own right who was probably one of the options for the next mentor, but preferred field work. Her acts of love are through services and what is a better service to those she loves then ridding the world of templars. The longest she probably went without being out in the field was when Desmond was born and it isn't till he is 5 or 6 that she goes back out. Now she is working twice as hard. Not just for her fellow assassins, but now she has a son. A son who will be forced to do this same exact thing if she doesn't do something.

So she is around less and less. One day here, two days there. And maybe she thinks she is doing her family a favor. She deludes herself into thinking this will push Bill and Desmond closer together. Desmond will love Bill more because he is there and she is not. But it has the opposite effect. As he gets older Desmond starts to resent Bill. He can never be good enough. Never strong enough or fast enough. He is subjected to a constant stream of belittlement from his father. Bill works all the time and Desmond hates that he is forced to have dinners at an empty table all alone while Bill is in his office. So close but still too far.

But his mother? Oh his mother is his hero because all this time he has been building in his head the idea of what his mother is. An ideal mother. "Yeah she isn't here cause she is keeping us safe. Everyone says how great she is. The best of the best." He tells himself. Then as he gets older he starts to compare Bill to this idea of his mother. "If mom was here she'd be able to explain this better to me. She is really smart.", "When mom gets back I'm sure she can help me with this move. She's the best.", "Once mom gets here we can have dinner like a family, maybe we can cook together." on and on.

Finally, at 16, his mother is home for the first time for a longer than a day. Two whole weeks in fact. And he is so excited only for that reunion to be awkward and kind of cold. He doesn't get those meals together like he hoped. Training with her is worse than his father. With Bill he had learned when the man is actually paying attention and where, which allowed Desmond to slack in other areas, but with his mother she is always watching. She nitpicks every movement and doesn't seem to understand why he can't get something on the first try. She pushes Desmond well past exhaustion and makes him train even past that. Desmond's carefully crafted view of his mother is destroyed in just a few days leaving him empty and convinced that neither of his parents actually love him.

From Desmond's mother's point of view the reunion is "cold" because she doesn't know what to say to her son. She has been gone for so much of his life and the only things she really knows about him are through Bill. She knows he has potential, but he is "disinterested" and "never takes anything seriously" so in training she pushes him. She has been a field agent this whole time. She knows that a single misstep can mean death and Desmond is already 16. In a few more years they will send him on his first mission and she will be damned if she lets him die. Those missed meals together? She is with Bill in his office helping with his work and on occasion they will sit there with a bottle of scotch between them, talking about life before. Before he had to be mentor, when they had at least a little time to themselves. A little time for each other. She doesn't see what she is doing to Desmond.

When it's time for her to leave again she doesn't question Desmond's lack of smile or how he says he is going to go "train", she only thinks 'Good. He is going to start taking things more seriously.' She doesn't think anything is wrong when she gets off the plane and she drives to the safe-house. She doesn't know that Desmond has snuck out. Ran away from the home he believes never even cared about him. Nothing is wrong until Bill calls her and says the three words the shatters her world.

"Desmond is gone."

[blacklegsanjiii]

Hii i wanted to share my thoughts on the soulmate for Oisín Sanji if thats alright

I voted for Zoro myself (even thought honestly they would all be sweet/funny) but i think the situation with Zoro is the funniest like-

imagine all your life till this point youve been training the be the greatest swordsman of them all and you has your eyes set on this one guy all this time and also in the back of your head youre aware he has a kid thats around your age (based on the wanted posters when they stopped updating) and you see it as someone to help you get closer to your end goal

Que you becoming a pirate and later meeting this pretty asshole of a cook who you quickly become head over heels for when he shows his spark when fighting, he's your equal and you havent had that since your best friend died

And then you find out he is the kid of your rival but somehow instead of it being heartbreaking it only makes it better because even in the time you didnt know, he takes care of your swords with so much love and care, he helps you get a proper swordsman diet like he has done it a thousand times already and- he has a swordsmans soulmate mark!!!

Idk i just think zosan for this would be very funny but at the same time very sweet (love sick Zorooo 💥💥 he loves his spicy boy friend)

But i also think it would give mihawk a giant headache so thats also funny

No, no I get it. Trust me. It is the funniest option but also gives Mihawk the largest headache-especially if Zoro never connects the dots fully until they meet up on Karai Bari. BUT BEFORE THAT???

Zoro who hasn't had a decent match since Kuina died. He's had his eyes set on Hawkeye since he was a kid and joined the dojo and wanted to be the best since. Not because Hawkeye was the best then-he wasn't but everyone knew he would be and he had a kid around his age and the kid has a twirly brow with a dumb name. Then the posters stop updating and Hawkeye becomes a warlord then Kuina dies. He takes Wado and leaves to fulfill his and Kuina's dreams. He becomes a bounty hunter because he needs the money and the roads and islands keep moving on him. He keeps his eyes out for the guy around his age who could be Mihawk's kid. Then he gets tied up in a marine base and is freed by a guy who wants him to become a pirate. He agrees. They get a crew, a navigator and then a liar/sharpshooter and when they get to this fish restuarant? Sure he loses to Mihawk and gets bisected and the prettiest guy he ever saw is yelling at him to give up his dream but he doesn't die. It's fine, it's fine~. He's alive and the blond guy is hot and he can kick ass and he doesn't use swords.

Also the blond guy's name is Sanji and Zoro doesn't use his name at all. He is whatever nickname Zoro calls him in that moment. He's an equal and Zoro tells him all about his plans to find Hawkeye's kid when it's time for a rematch and draw him out to a duel, twirly always laughs at him for it, keeps saying it's a one way ticket to dying. He says it with a dopey smile though. He cares for Zoro's swords when he's on bedrest and isn't allowed to move, doing so anyway despite Chopper's protests. Also they know they're so soulmates, Zoro's whole back covered in blue and fish. Sanji's shoulder braided like the hilt of Wado Ichimonji and just as beautiful. Zoro wishes he knew what Oisín's soulmark looks like because it would be so much easier to find him.

After Sabaody when he's on Kuriagana and wishing he could have been there for his captain but he's training against his dream, with the man who holds his dream and it's good. Even if ghost girl is there and he's away from his soulmate. When he asks Mihawk where his kid is and Perona is curious because he never came to warlord meetings with the kid. Mihawk is like 'yes, that was part of the deal I made becoming a warlord, they would stop updating his bounties. As for his current location, no idea.' because he has his own dream and he's not taking his father's mantle, doesn't want it. Zoro yells that he's no help and Mihawk asks if he wants to follow suit of the people who tried to take his son before him, just because he's stronger doesn't mean he's strong enough yet. Zoro takes massive offense to this.

When they get back together and are leaving Sabaody Zoro is absolutely complaining about this to Sanji despite saying he's stronger and Sanji is laughing his ass off again. Sanji points out that Zoro seems to be overlooking the fact the kid was raised by Mihawk and Zoro grumbles and just buries into his side. Of course after WCI and Wano Sanji is prickly, even to his soulmate, even after the death pact. Zoro is absolutely never letting Sanji out of his sight again so when they go meet Mihawk and the rest of the Guild on Karai Bari the crew is nervous. Except for the monster trio and Robin.

At some point either Mihawk or Sanji slip up, it's just habit as they cook together on the Sunny since Mihawk is the only one to get along with the Straw Hat pirates. They're chatting idly and the crew is there just to make sure and Sanji points at something and is like 'hand the salt over, dad' and Mihawk just hands it over 'Oisín, you're an adult, really?' before they both pause and sigh. The crew is absolutely losing it in different ways. Nami is pissed that Mihawk wasn't there for WCI, Zoro is pissed that Sanji hid being Oisín, Luffy is laughing really fucking hard and asking Zoro how he didn't know, Chopper and Usopp are despairing. Robin hums and asks Mihawk if he knew Zoro was Sanji's soulmate and Mihawk sighs long and loud and Sanji asks if Zoro was telling him the same shit he was telling him for their whole relationship, Mihawk says yes and that Zoro is a fucking moron.

Do I also have something utterly heart breaking and wrenching for acesan in Oisín!sanji? Yes. Was this fun to write? Yes.

[starcrossedxwriter]

Built for Love Part 8 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

A/N: Ummm this chapter has a little bit of everything... Family, fluff, a bit of smut, slight angst. It also has a time jump because we gotta keep shit movingggg. And I could write 100 chapters of fluff with these two butttt we're here for the drama! lol Also another gif that has nothing to do with anything LOL But I imagine this is what our girl wakes up to every day and I love that for her

Warnings: brief mentions of DV

“So Charlie, are you excited to be back on the stage?” Michael’s mom asked as they settled around Michael’s dining room table for dinner.

Though it was a small affair, the table was weighed down by Donna’s decadent and delicious cooking, his mom cooking both he and Charlotte’s favorites for their goodbye dinner. Once his father had said grace, initial conversations had given way to the sounds of forks and spoons clinking against china as everyone passed dishes and savored Donna’s cooking. Though Michael’s family was used to it, Charlotte’s were too busy stuffing their faces to be much conversationalists.  

Her face had been drawn up in a bright smile since her brother, Lauren, and Jazz arrived. The tone around the table was a bittersweet one, joy for Charlotte and this opportunity everyone knew she deserved and needed, but melancholy at having two staples of their respective communities gone, even if it was only a temporary absence. 

Between the press tour and preparing to leave, the time had flown by and the move that once seemed so far away was hurtling toward them like a high speed train. Charlotte still found herself shocked that Michael was willing to move with her. As the date inched closer and closer, she half expected him to find an excuse not to accompany her. But that never materialized. Instead, he took it upon himself to do all of the planning. Time to find an apartment? Already done and vetted by Michael. Furnish the place? Interior decorator was already on it with images of both of their homes to capture their respective styles. All day, every day, he sent her restaurants and places he wanted to try, some Charlotte had been to and some she hadn’t, or asked her about her favorite spots to add to the list. His excitement was contagious, which counteracted the stress, dread, and anxiety Charlotte felt. For him, this was just the first of many adventures with the woman he loved. For her, it was returning home after running away. And that was never easy.   

“Yea I really am. It’ll be an adjustment for sure. Next two months’ll be crazy. But I… really missed it. I’m coming in a few weeks behind in rehearsals but it’ll be good to be back.” 

Michael’s hand, which had rested on her thigh since they sat down, squeezed gently to reassure her, soothing her anxiety. 

“Only on the choreo. This girl could perform the show and songs forward and backwards right now if she wanted.” 

Charlotte smiled. “He might be right about that. But the choreo is the harder part for me anyway.” 

“Yea the girl was born with every talent but rhythm,” Jackson called down the table causing everyone to laugh, Charlotte leaning behind Michael’s chair to flip him off without everyone seeing. 

“He never gives her credit. Charlie is a great dancer,” Lauren chimed in, not allowing her husband to joke at her best friend’s expense. “Remember the spring production of Oklahoma our freshman year??” 

Charlotte groaned. “Ugh don’t remind me! Some of the worst weeks of my life.”

“What happened?” Michael asked. 

“There was a nasty norovirus going around campus and Charlie, one of the only freshmen in Juilliard history to play the coveted lead of a spring production, caught it the second day of rehearsals. Was out for two weeks. The director planned on bumping up her understudy.” 

“A senior who despised me and was probably hoping the virus would kill me,” she laughed. “Director said there was noooooo way I could learn the staging and choreo in the two remaining weeks before opening night,” Charlotte interjected, rolling her eyes. “He was just worried he took a chance on a freshman only for her to crash and burn.” 

“Since I was dancing in the production, I could record rehearsals. Charlotte watched every rehearsal, learning every move, lyric, and note while she was sick. Sis showed up once she was cleared by the doctor and you wouldn’t have even known she missed two weeks of rehearsals. She looked and sounded better than some folks who’d been to every rehearsal.”

“Messed up one or two steps,” she admitted. “But nothing that couldn’t be fixed in the time we had left.”

“How’d you manage that?” 

She shrugged. “I just rehearsed and slept in between trips to the bathroom,” she laughed. “My doctor thought I was completely insane but as they say, ‘the show must go on.’” 

“Will you have enough tickets for us all to come to opening night or do we need to come at a different time?” Jackson asked.

“I definitely can get everyone tickets for previews, those start mid February. Not sure how many I can snag for opening night though.” 

“What are previews?” Michael’s dad asked. 

“Oh, sort of a test run? Just an opportunity to perform the show to audiences before the official opening night. Gives you a chance to work out issues and fix things before critics review it. The show ran off-Broadway first so our previews are only a couple weeks. So we have a month and a half of true rehearsals and then previews and then the show premieres March 1.” 

“And how long are you all gonna be there again?” 

“In total? 8 months I guess with rehearsals? I only signed on to be on the cast for six months though… March to September.” 

“Knowing you, you’ll extend it,” Jackson offered with a knowing smile.

Charlotte shook her head. “I dunno. Chris would love that. But doing 8 shows a week for six months is a lot. And gets old after a while,” she admitted. “Maybe I’d do a different show, but I'll probably come back here. I promised Chris six months so that’s all I’m committing to.” 

Everyone nodded in understanding, the conversation drifting away from Charlie and to separate topics. Charlie glanced around the table, a soft content smile on her face as she watched the two groups interact. It was not just each family chatting off to themselves. Lauren and Michael’s mom and sister were deep in a conversation about the struggles of parenting young children; Michael’s brother and Jackson were arguing about the Lakers vs the Clippers; and Jazz and Michael were deeply enthralled in a story told by Michael Sr. And everyone seemed genuinely happy to be there and interact. This was their first time truly combining the groups but she thought it boded well for when they all met the rest of her immediate family on the East Coast. If Jazz, Lauren, and Jackson liked them and fit in, the rest of her family would too. 

As dinner winded down, Charlotte stood up from the table to bring out dessert. Michael offered a soft peck to the inside of her wrist, which she returned with one to the top of his head, before she grabbed his plate to take into the kitchen. She hummed to herself as she loaded the dishwasher and pulled out the cake his mom prepared earlier that day. It was Michael’s favorite, her rum cake. Charlie could not deny it was one of the best cakes she had ever tasted, hers included. 

As she moved the cake to the island, she lost her balance on her heels, almost falling. She was able to sit the cake down quickly, it wobbled slightly in its glass case but remained unharmed despite her clumsiness. 

“There you go, tripping over air,” she cursed herself, annoyed and thankful she had not destroyed his mother’s cake. As she moved the holder on the island, a wave of deja vu hit her, a vision of a cake and cake holder smashing to the ground filling her brain. She paused, studying the glass cake stand, her stiletto-shaped nails gliding over it gently. Just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, the memory too foggy and distant to make sense of. During most of her deja-vu moments or flashbacks, the memories hit her like she was being forced in front of a movie screen. But as much as she racked her brain, she couldn't think of anything related to this moment.

“You ok, dear?” Donna’s soft voice interrupted Charlotte as she zoomed through the Rolodex of memories in her mind.

“Hm? Oh yea, I’m ok,” Charlotte answered, glancing up. she noticed the plates in the woman’s hands before abandoning her thoughts and grabbing them from her. “Let me get those.” 

“Thank you, dear. Your family is lovely. They fit right in,” Donna offered as she moved to grab a knife and small plates for dessert. 

Charlotte smiled, “Thanks. I’m excited for all of you to meet the rest of them. Everyone else is fairly tame in comparison,” she joked. 

As she loaded their dishwasher, she glanced at his mom. 

“This was all delicious, thank you. Thank God he picked up your cooking skills or else we’d starve in New York.”

The older woman laughed. “Well anytime you want to learn, you let me know. Though I think you’d give me a run for my money with those desserts of yours.” 

Charlotte could not help but beam a bit at her compliment. 

Charlotte dried her hands on a dish towel, anxiously twisting the soft fabric in her hands and chewing on her lip as she watched his mom. 

“I hope you don’t mind…” she started, pausing as the older woman looked at her with confusion. “M-Me stealing him away for a while. I’m honestly still a bit surprised he wanted to do this at all. But I know it’s probably hard when he’s gone for a long time. I feel kinda bad?” She admitted quietly. “I know he’s gonna miss you guys so much.” She stared at the wall that blocked Michael and everyone at the table from their vision, her face falling a bit as she felt the guilt of pulling him away from his family and community in LA. Even though he offered, she could not help but question whether she should have accepted it, accepted taking him away from his family like this.

“If I may?” Donna’s hands wrapped around Charlotte’s, halting her anxious movements and towel twisting. “I know it hasn’t been that long but I’ve never seen my son as happy as he is with you. One thing you should never doubt is how much that man in there adores you. I dare say he would try to move a mountain if he thought it’d bring you joy. You should never feel bad for accepting the manifestations of his love and commitment. Because I dare say, this is just the beginning.”  

Charlotte felt a tear start to fall, not from sadness but from the love, grace, and compassion his mother always showed her. From the moment they first met to today, she never acted like those dreaded mother-in-laws her married friends moaned about. Charlotte’s mother would not be considered a constant presence in her life, a rarity at best. And through everything she had been through, the one thing she had always hoped for but never had was a mom. Michael’s mom did not know about her mom’s absence but she seemed to recognize it was something Charlie still needed, a mother’s love, support, grace, and word of wisdom. And she offered it in droves. 

“T-thank you,” she whispered, whisking the tears away just as Michael rounded the corner to check on them. 

“Hey, you two alright?” 

“Yes of course, baby.” Her face immediately brightened as he entered the room, not even just to hide her and his mom’s emotional moment but just from his presence. “Just hounding your mom for this amazing rum cake recipe so I can make it for you in New York…” 

“But… I told her she’s gotta be officially in the family first for me to share it. So get to it,” she whispered to Bakari with a sly smile and a peck on the cheek as she returned to the dining room with the rest of the family. 

“Damn, she’s not subtle at all, is she?” he asked as he grabbed the cake while Charlotte grabbed the plates his mom pulled out. 

Charlotte laughed, patting him on the chest as she passed him to return to the dining room. “No, definitely not.”

***

Their moans created an orchestra filling his bedroom as Michael kept Charlotte’s eyes trained on his as he fucked her slow and deep. 

They rarely had sex in missionary these days, both of them finding other positions far more interesting and fun. However, when they were both in the mood for something slower and more sensual, missionary hit the spot for both of them. It offered them something deeper than pure pleasure. It was an intimacy and comfort they both needed for their last night in Michael’s bed for a while. 

Looking into each other’s eyes was a meeting of the minds, beyond merely connecting with their bodies, they connected with their souls. They saw all of each other, all of the excitement, anxiety, joy, and fear of what tomorrow would hold for them. And every moment, every movement and touch between them was an effort to honor those feelings. Every touch and whispered adoration told the other that they were here and they were ready for everything the universe had in store for them. 

There would be time for fast and wild later. Tonight, they were just cherishing the moment and each other before their first real adventure as a couple began. 

“J-Just li-like that. F-Fuck, I-I love you,” she moaned, having already lost count of her orgasms as Michael pushed her to the edge of another one. 

She could tell he was close as he picked up the pace a bit. Her hips rocked slightly to meet his, her core pulsing and tightening around him causing a primitive moan to escape him. 

It only took a moment for him to fill her before he rolled off of her. 

“You good?” He asked, a question he usually asked when they finished up, whether the session was slow and sensual or had her doing acrobatics. And the answer was always in the same vein: she was more than good.

“Excellent. I could fall asleep j-just like this,” she yawned, knowing that her sleep after sex was always elite, Michael tiring her out to the point where she could not do much else. However, before she did, she got up to go to the bathroom, Michael talking to her as she groped her way through the darkness of his room. 

“You ready for tomorrow?” He asked as he found his briefs to slide on and climb back into bed. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” she called back. “You sure you still wanna come? Not too late to back out. Well, we signed a lease, on a way too expensive apartment, I might add… so it’s a bit late. But you could still do it.” 

Though her tone had the intent of a joke, Michael could still hear it, her hesitation and fear that let him know she was still concerned he would abandon her. He knew she would not truly believe him until they were moved in and settled but he was genuinely excited to go with her. Not just to support her and provide her with some sense of safety while she was there, but to witness this next stage in her career. This was her dream and he saw no better use of his time than watching her fulfill it. He knew why she was hesitant, they had only been dating for mere months. However, when he looked at Charlotte, he saw a perfect glittering gold path to a future he had never given much thought to because he had always been too focused on the hustle, a marriage and a family like the one his parents had built. To him, this was one step down that path and he would never regret taking it. Part of him was annoyed he would have to return to LA in June for another project before her time in New York ended but he decided he would savor the initial six months of uninterrupted time together. 

“You ain’t gettin’ rid of me that easy, honey bee. And after living with me in New York, maybe that’ll convince you to move in with me when we get back?” He asked as she washed her hands. 

She poked her head out into the room to look at him, finding that his face matched the seriousness of his tone and words.

“What? Y-You want me to move in? Here?” 

He continued to surprise her with his level of commitment and dedication overall. However, just as she was about to doubt he truly meant it, his mother’s words floated back to her mind. 

"Well, it wouldn't be here forever. Just till we found a new spot… something that's ours," he emphasized. “We’re gonna live together for at least 6 months in New York… if it works out and you don’t absolutely hate me by the end,” he joked, “Why not? What? You don’t think we should?"

She shrugged as she climbed back into his bed. “No, no, I’m not saying that at all. I mean I basically live here as it is,” she admitted. “I g-guess I just didn’t think about what living together in New York would mean for when we got back? Of course, you thought of it though. You think ahead and have a plan for everything.” 

Michael was glad she could not see his face as she settled against his chest. She truly had no idea how far ahead his planning went when it came to her. 

“Well, I just know what I want and I don’t believe in wasting time. But I’m not sayin’ you gotta decide now or anything. Let’s see how New York goes. I just wanted to see if you’d be interested in it.” 

“Yea, I’m interested.”

He nodded. “Now are you gonna tell me what you and my momma were talking about earlier? You looked upset?” 

Charlotte chuckled, she turned over so her chest was against his, her ear pressed against his chest. The light thumps of his heart filled her ear like a soothing drumbeat. “I should’ve known you weren’t gonna let that go… I wasn’t upset. She j-just said something I needed to hear.” 

She felt his lips press against the top of her head, her eyes falling closed for a moment. She appreciated that he did not press any further for information. 

“Yea, I don't know how she does that. It's kinda creepy, honestly… that mother's intuition."

“Yea, its like she sees into your soul or something." Her last words turned into a mumble as she yawned and her eyes fell closed.

All Michael could do was chuckle before kissing her forehead and falling asleep himself, her gentle snores filling his ears.

***

Charlotte glanced out of the floor-to-ceiling window of their new apartment on the edge of the Upper West Side. It was as beautiful and pristine as the pictures Michael had shown her. They were high enough to have a great view of the city from their balcony. It was in the perfect location too for work and there was so much around for her and Michael to do. The furnishings were perfect, the exact mix of her and Michael’s individual interior style. She knew he hired a designer but it was clear the person knew their shit. The house already felt warm, cozy, and safe, all the things Charlotte needed, and they had only been in it for an hour.

“What are you thinking?” He asked from the couch as he scrolled through his phone, both of them avoiding the dreaded unpacking they had to do. 

“I’m thinking about my crappy little studio apartment when I first graduated… and my two bedroom with one of my college friends for those few months…” she paused, that apartment was a graveyard of bad memories. “Before I moved. I’ve j-just come up in the world, I guess.” 

Bakari beckoned her to him, the young woman leaving her perch against the window to join him. The moment she was in arm’s length, he gently pulled her down onto his lap, Charlotte nestling into him with ease. 

“This place is insane, Bakari. I mean I love it but I still think it’s too much,” she remarked, she raised her hands as if to surrender, knowing she was bringing up a touchy subject for them both. 

“Aht aht. We came to an agreement on that,” he lightly kissed her bare shoulder. 

She nodded, neither of them wanting to fall back into their first true argument of their relationship a few months earlier. 

“So what do you think?” 

Charlotte laughed. “I think I could fit 5 or 6 of my first apartment in that place,” she gestured toward his laptop as he flipped through photos of a high-rise three-bedroom apartment. “I mean it’s gorgeous but I don’t think I can afford it.” 

“Yea but I can. It’s perfect. Really solid security, there’s only one apartment on each floor so it’s pretty private. And it's only 15 minutes from the theaters so when you finish up evening shows, it’s not a long drive. It’s perfect for us. Don’t think about the cost. Do you like it?” 

“Yes, I love it but,” she chuckled. “Creed was my first real check in two years, babe. And I still gotta pay for my apartment here. I don’t really have the luxury of not thinking about the cost of things.” 

“Ok but I’m sayin’ you don’t have to think about it cause I got it.” 

“Well how much do you want me to contribute a month? If we go 50/50, it would be tight but I could swing it then, I guess.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “ I wasn’t expecting you to contribute anything. We ain’t roommates, Els.”  

She shook her head, pushing off of the couch to pace in his living room, her annoyance officially rising. Finances continued to be a touchy subject for the pair. However, usually, Charlotte only put up so much of a fight before she gave in. But she could not give in on this, not today. 

“It’s one thing for you to always pay for dinners and shit like that but you can’t pay all of our rent while we’re there. That’s ridiculous.” 

“Why can’t I?” He asked, his tone signaling that he did not understand the seriousness of the conversation for Charlotte in the slightest. He still did not quite understand her hang up with finances. He knew it was part of the cycle of abuse but he had no problem spending money on her if need be. She had only just stopped fighting him on paying for dates. Though he was not the type of celebrity who blew all of his money on frivolous things, Michael also did not pretend money was a significant consideration in his decisions because it just wasn’t. And he would never apologize for wanting to spend his money on her, for wanting to support her. 

“B-Because I…” Charlotte stopped herself from finishing the sentence, Don’t want you to be able to control me that way. But she knew that was not his way.“T-then it’s y-your house a-and not mine. I-I would just feel more comfortable i-if you let me contribute something. L-Let me pay for half? Besides, you’re gonna be in LA sometimes, full time in the summer. You shouldn’t pay the full amount every month like you’re gonna be there the whole time.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal, Charlotte. I don’t need your money and I don’t want it.” His tone signaled that he hoped to get the final word in and end the discussion.

She could not help but feel frustrated like he was not hearing her. But she understood why he did not see this situation through her eyes. “I-It’s not about you n-needing it!” She cried out, Michael suddenly realizing her unexpected outburst meant more simmered beneath the surface than her just wanting to contribute. She took a deep breath, not wanting to start an argument with him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. It’s just…” 

He rubbed her shoulders and nodded, “Ok just breath for a second, babe. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it would bother you this much. I just.. I wanted you to have a serene, safe place to live and work while you’re there a-and I wasn’t gonna ask you to pay because money wasn’t a factor when I chose it. I just want you to be comfortable while we’re there.”

She sighed and rubbed her forehead. She knew she shouldn’t push him on the finances piece so much. But she refused to ever let a man hold her livelihood over her head again. Where she laid her head was important and even though she stayed at Michael’s most of the time, she could at least retreat to her home if she ever needed it. She did not want the only place she had to lay her head to be not in her control at all. 

“Look, I-I appreciate it. That place is beautiful a-and perfect. I love it, truly. But… t-this is the first time I’m living with a guy since Shaun a-and the a-amount of times he held t-the fact that it w-was his h-house instead of mine o-over me…” she exhaled deeply as if she could release the memories into the air with her breath. “I-If I d-don’t contribute something then it’ll be your house and not ours. I k-know you don’t need it o-or want it. But I need it. I need it to feel like I have an equal claim to it. Please.”

At that, Michael decided not to push any further. He understood her triggers were real and legitimate and if it gave her a sense of autonomy and control to pay him, he would not let his ego get in the way of that. 

“Understood. I’m sorry,” he kissed her cheek. “I didn’t think about that. This’ll be our home and I want you to feel like it. How about you deal with all the utilities and I get the rent?”

She could not help but laugh a bit at his “compromise.” “Those things aren’t comparable at all, babe,” she muttered. 

“Monetarily? Nah. But what’s the point of an apartment without lights, wifi, gas, water?” he listed. “All of those are necessities too and without them, this would be a pretty terrible apartment.” 

They squared off for a moment before she nodded, realizing he budged about as far as he was willing to on the subject. 

“Deal.” 

“Deal.” 

“We came to an agreement, yes. But don’t think for a second I like it. Anytime you wanna accept that 50/50 split, let me know.” 

Michael gave her a peck on the nose. 

“Not gonna happen. Let me treat you to this one thing, baby. But what could happen is us christening some of this furniture?” His eyebrow raised suggestively, his intentions clear in his words. 

Charlotte smiled slyly. “I like the sound of that… if we start with the counter.” 

***

“Charlotte. Baby. Stop eating your breakfast like it’s a drive by. Sit, relax, and eat. You got plenty of time. Don’t have to be there for another hour.” 

Charlotte nearly catapulted out of bed that morning, a wrecking ball of nervous energy flitting around their apartment. Michael did not know how she was moving so quickly and chaotically, since all she did was toss and turn the night before. And as soon as the Sun was up, she was out of bed and out on a run through the neighborhood. And when she returned, their bed quickly turned into a wreckage of clothes, the young woman changing her outfit no less than 10 times. 

“Did you get any sleep last night?” Michael asked as Charlotte forced herself to sit at the island and eat Michael’s apple cinnamon pancakes, her favorite, and a couple pieces of bacon. Though this was her favorite breakfast meal, she found it difficult to eat, believing her time would be better served practicing or running her lines again rather than just sitting there. 

She scratched her head as she stuffed her face quickly, her eyes zooming across her sheet music. “Couple hours. Lots of tossing and turning before I just gave up and reviewed the music again.” 

Michael laughed, “You know every song by heart, even the ones that aren’t yours. You’re gonna be great today.”

She shrugged. “I don’t feel like it.” She glanced at her watch and bit her lip before abandoning her half eaten breakfast. “Thanks for this, Bakari, but I think I should go practice the songs one more time. The run in the Act I closer is fuckin’ killing me. I can’t get it just right a-and if Chris has us practice that part today, I don’t want to look stupid.” She paused her ranting to practice the chorus and run right there as she paced by the counter. She sounded flawless in Michael’s opinion but he could tell she hated it the way her whole face scrunched up in frustration. “See? Can’t get it. But you know… maybe I should practice my ballad first though… it would make sense he’d want to start there since it’s earlier in the show. Do I have time to do both…” She was no longer talking to Michael, only rambling and muttering to herself as her questions about which song to use her precious last few minutes to practice started to become inter spliced with actual lyrics from the songs as she studied the music while she walked through their home. “Babe! Have you seen my script?? Maybe I should  run through all my lines for Act 1?” She checked her watch. “I s-should’ve used the time last night to do that. UGH.”  

Her incoherent stream of consciousness and half singing were interrupted by Michael who put himself in the path of Hurricane Charlotte and their bedroom. Her favorite room to practice in was the bathroom because the acoustics were the best in the house. Imagine his confusion and slight amusement when, the first thing she did when they arrived after throwing her bags down, she started singing her ballad in every single room to test the sound quality before deciding the bathroom was the best option. 

It had not been 24 hours yet and he already learned one critical thing about her: she was a perfectionist chaotic nutcase. He had never seen this “behind the scenes” look into her process and work ethic. When they worked on Creed, she showed up to set every day the picture of an actor, in the zone, focused, and ready to work. He had never seen what it took to get to that picture and it was a perfect frenzy that he could not hope to understand or follow if he tried. 

And still, he found that her perfectionist nature that drove all the practice and ramblings only made him fall deeper in love with her. He imagined this is what he looked like to his friends and family when he was prepping for a role, so much energy and time spent to become someone else and embody their souls and personas. So much attention to detail and time rehearsing to give each moment in front of the camera your all. This was so much like that, and yet so much harder because Charlotte could not just yell cut to redo something. Every night she got on that stage, she had one opportunity to show her talent at its fullest. He could completely understand why she pushed herself as hard as she did. 

“Honeybee… you gotta calm down. No more practicing,” he grabbed the sheet music out of her hand, Charlotte offering mild protests as he walked to her bag and slid them inside, secretly adding a little card of his own. “You still have weeks of rehearsals. Keep doing this and you’ll lose your voice,” he warned, his lips twitching from the laugh he forced himself to stifle at the look of objective horror on her face, as if she had never even considered that was a possibility. But he imagined for her, losing her voice was the worst type of illness she could have. “Exactly. Rest the vocals for a bit. Sit, finish your breakfast and we’ll drive to the theater together.” 

With his hands on her hips, he steered her back to the island for the third time that morning and watched her sit down to resume eating, this time far slower and more measured. 

“You don’t gotta take me like a child headed to kindergarten for the first day, dad,” she bemused with a soft smile. “I’ll be good.” 

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to.” 

She nodded, talk of Michael’s plans for the day filled the rest of breakfast before she grabbed her bag, filled with her script, sheet music, and mid-day snack. Michael had to stop her from triple checking her bag before he slid a perfectly made chai in her hands and ushered her out the door. 

He kept his hand on hers as their driver took them the short ride to Abernathy Theater. She had not told Michael but she had performed in this very theater in her very first Broadway production out of college. It felt like a full circle moment to be back there. 

“Ok, this is it, babe. You got this,” he kissed her on the lips. “Can’t wait to hear all about it tonight.” 

“Thanks, love. See you tonight.” She took a deep breath before gathering her things and exiting the car. 

Charlotte glanced back at the black car before she opened the theater door, the window rolled down, to find Michael giving her a thumbs up as if he knew she would need an extra push to walk through the door. She knew her nerves were somewhat foolish. She had spent the better part of her life in theaters and on the stage. And yet, she still felt like a fish outta water. So much time had passed, so much life had happened. Chris thought she still had what it took but would everyone else? She had given up this dream. And though she had never admitted this out loud, she felt so much shame for how easily she had casted it aside and resigned to leaving it to die behind her. As she walked through the theater, her first time in one in over two years, she questioned whether she even deserved this second chance at it after she had squandered the first one, regardless of her reasoning for doing so. 

But now as she walked through the theater, taking in the opulence of the insanely tall ceilings and their perfectly preserved murals, the dazzling gold arches and trims, and the sea of ruby-colored seats, she knew one fact to be true. No one and nothing would tear her away from this dream this time. She had breathed new life into it and she would not lose it again.

“Charlotte!” 

Her visual survey was interrupted by Chris who waved at her from the stage. She smiled and made quick work of making her way to the stage where he waited.

“It’s so good to see you,” he mused, pulling her into a tight hug. “The rest of the cast is trickling in. But I wanted to show you around personally and introduce you to everyone. I’ll take you backstage.”  

He looped his arm around hers and led her backstage, the two laughing and chatting like old friends as he took her around and introduced her to everyone. He was showing her her dressing room when a familiar man’s voice filled her ears. 

“The prodigal daughter of Broadway returns… You know I took bets on when you’d be back.” 

Charlotte whipped around to find Malcolm Roberts, one of her costars, leaning against the doorway, his usual sly smirk etched on his face. 

She sauntered up to him, a similar smirk falling on her face. “And? Is the Tony award winning Malcolm Roberts poorer or richer these days?” 

“Richer…” At her surprised expression, he shrugged. “I learned a long time ago to always bet on you.” 

She laughed and immediately pulled him into a tight hug, the man lifting her feet slightly off the ground. 

“It’s so good to see you. I owe you dinner so you can catch me up on everything,” he said as they hugged. “You look amazing, still as gorgeous as ever.”  

Malcolm had been in her last production before she moved. She followed his career after leaving theater and his star had only risen higher and higher, as he deserved. And now, he would be playing directly alongside her and she couldn’t have been more pleased. If there was one person she trusted undoubtedly to act alongside, besides Michael, it would be Malcolm. 

“Thank you! Should’ve known Chris would call in the heavyweight champ,” she laughed. 

He merely shrugged. “A friend calls and I answer. That's how he got you outta hibernation too?” He asked as they walked to the practice room for rehearsal, their banter drowned out by the hustle and bustle of the team as they worked to build the set and gathered props around them. 

 “Naturally. One day you’ll have to tell us how you convince everyone to do whatever you want?” Charlotte told Chris who merely smiled slyly. 

“Win me another Tony and I’ll tell all my secrets.” 

The two actors glanced at each other and rolled their eyes. “As if you need anymore!” 

“Does your house even have room for another one and that big head of yours?” Malcolm teased as Charlotte snorted. 

“Well, my partner says I can’t convert the kids’ room to a trophy room. So I guess when you two are done sweeping, I’ll have to buy a new house.” He winked at the both of them before grabbing his assistant director to chat, leaving Malcolm and Charlotte alone. 

“How was the move?” He asked as he interlaced his arm with Charlotte’s as they walked. 

“Oh totally fine. Michael took care of everything, of course. All I did was say yes or no.” 

“Ah yes, the new boyfriend, aka my wife and sister’s celebrity crush. Remind me never to invite the two of you over for dinner?” Charlotte let out a deep belly laugh. “But I’m glad to hear it. Looks like you found yourself a good one?” 

“Yea… I think I did.” 

She raised her eyebrow as he stopped walking to study her for a moment, his face drawn up in a look of pride and something else she could not place. Understanding? Knowing? She could not read it. However, before she could ask him, he merely patted her hand, which rested on his arm and said, “Well no one deserves that more than you.” 

Before she could inquire more, they arrived at their rehearsal space, each of them settling into their spots. Chris did quick work of introducing Charlotte to everyone else who she hadn’t met and embarrassing her with his praise. She was thankful when it was all over and everyone started to pull out their scripts and sheet music to run through Act I. 

As she pulled out her materials, a small card fell out of the stack and onto the table. She picked it up and examined the card, Honey Bee written out on the front in Michael’s handwriting. She half listened to Chris share notes and information from the last rehearsal as she slid the stationary out of its envelope. 

I would say good luck but I know you don’t need it. You’re gonna kill it, as you always do, and remind everyone there today and in this world, who you are. Take a deep breath and remember you, not only deserve this moment but, you were made for it.

Love, 

Your biggest fan  

If she had not been in a room filled with people, she would have bursted into tears. She slid the note back in her bag after reading it once more and taking the deep breath he instructed her to. She grabbed her phone as the cast started the table read and sent a quick but simple text. 

Thank you ♥️♥️

She knew she did not need to elaborate and that he would recognize the meaning. Not a whole minute passed before her phone buzzed with a similar simplistic response. 

Anytime. 

***

A month later

“Oof, that’s it. That’s the right spot,” Charlotte moaned as Michael massaged her aching limbs. “You got the magic touch, baby.” Her eyes lulled closed as he did the Lord’s work, kneading and massaging the tense spots on her legs and back after another long day of rehearsals. "First show is in two days and I can barely feel my legs.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” He placed a soft kiss to the top of her spine before continuing his work. 

Though Charlotte did not mind the quiet, the silence that settled over them both as he worked, she found it odd. Most evenings, she and Michael never stopped talking, the pair catching the other up on any and everything from the moment she walked into the door until the moment they fell asleep. However, today, Michael’s head seemed to be elsewhere. 

“You ok?” She inquired. 

“Y-Yea, yea. I’m good.” 

She laughed. “I know you well enough to know when you’re good, Bakari. What’s wrong?” She gestured for him to move so she could sit up. She slid her robe over her nude body and slid into his lap.

“I just had an interesting call with Ryan today.” 

“Oh? Got another project for you?” 

“Actually, yea.” 

She motioned for more details, unsure why he was being so coy and secretive. “Ok… you gotta give me more than that, babe. What’s the role? And why are you acting like he threatened to kill you?” 

“It’s a Marvel project.” 

Her eyes immediately grew wide. She gracefully tumbled out of his lap and onto her knees, excitement filling her previously lethargic body. While she had only just started to get into anime thanks to Michael, both of them bonded over their love for comics. Growing up with her brother, she and Jackson spent far too much time in the comic book store and she made a point to see every Marvel movie that came out. 

“It’s Black Panther, isn’t it??” She squealed, her excitement radiating off of her. 

“How’d you guess that so fast??” 

She scoffed and smiled. “Marvel’s been talking to Black directors for months for that project. A-and Civil War is coming out soon with Chadwick. Ohh,” she shook his shoulders. “You HAVE to do it, baby.” 

He laughed, getting up to go into their in-suite bathroom. “You don’t even know what the role is, love.” 

She shrugged, following behind him with an extra pep in her step. She did not understand how he wasn’t more excited about this. 

“I mean I could sit here and go through all the Black Panther comic lore if you’d like and guess. But that’ll just make you horny,” she teased, knowing Michael got a little too excited when she put on her nerdy hat and talked comics. “And my legs hurt too much for acrobatics with you today. Why aren’t you excited? You said yes, right?? He wouldn’t’ve called unless the role was yours.” 

He pushed himself up to sit on the bathroom counter. “I want to say yes, the role is fantastic a-and his vision is spectacular. I s-spent the whole day reading up on the character and everything. It would be a game changer for sure.” 

“Of course it would. But I sense a but coming?” Her hands inched up his warm bare chest and wrapped around his neck as she stood between his legs. 

“I’d have to go back to LA for a couple days to screen test with Chad and a couple of the other confirmed actors, meet with the execs… and between Kevin Feige’s schedule, Ryan’s and Chadwick’s… only one week before like June works for everyone.” 

At the annoyed and guilty look on his face, Charlotte immediately understood. “Opening weekend of the show?” She prayed she was wrong but at the small nod, she let out a disgruntled sigh. 

“Yea. A-and I don’t want to miss that, Els. It’s such a big deal and I moved here to be all in on us and support you. I asked Ryan if we could find a different date or if we could do something out here instead but I dunno yet. I didn’t want to mention it because I didn’t want to disappoint you if it’s not a sure thing.” 

“Babe. I so appreciate you and that you even thought to consider me and the show before saying yes. But you can’t put your career on hold for me. This is the MCU, babe, I would miss opening night of my own show for Kevin Feige. You have to go.”

Michael’s jaw almost unhinged at her statement. That was not what he was expecting at all. And when he searched her face for a hint of disappointment or sadness, he failed to find any. Her joy for him was natural and authentic, not the forced type people give when they are trying to hide their own emotions. 

“What??” 

“I’m joking,” she amended but she quickly shook her head. “Actually I’m not. I would totally ditch schmoozing investors and the nausea of waiting for reviews for Marvel,” she laughed. “Seriously though, I’m gonna be doing 8 shows a week for months. You’ll see me on stage so many times, you’ll get sick of my voice and the show. You don’t have to be there opening night to support me. Honestly, I’d rather have you there the first night of previews in a couple days so you can see me on stage for the first time anyway. Opening night is only a big deal in that critics can finally review the show. And there’s a party for the cast and producers and investors and all that shit. You moved across the country to support me. That’s all I need.”

She walked back into their bedroom and grabbed his phone, her slippers shuffling lightly against the floor as she went.. She held it out to him. “Call Ryan.” 

“Babe… I just don’t feel right abandoning you on such a big night.” 

She tilted her head to study him. She found that she was not just saying those words because she knew she should not stop him from pursuing an opportunity. She actually meant it. Now that she was back in the swing of things, her anxiety had eased quite a bit. It had only been a few weeks but she had not seen or heard a peep out of Shaun, her promo for the show being reduced to one mention in a Broadway.com article, thankfully. And she knew she would have to handle a few days here and there without him before they got there. It was still early so she was still beyond thankful to have him there, but she could survive a couple days without him if he was needed elsewhere.   

“You aren’t abandoning me. You’re following your dreams, you’re moving your career forward. Ryan picked you, the role is yours. Meeting with the execs and a couple screen tests are the only hurdles you gotta clear. And you shouldn't put that off. Would I love to look out into that crowd and see you opening night, sure. But would I prefer to see you snag a killer role in what is already a highly anticipated project, 100%. I know you’ll be there in spirit.”

“You sure you aren’t gonna secretly hate me?” 

“I could never hate you. Besides, shit like this is gonna happen… we’re both two busy body ass actors. We aren’t always gonna be able to be there physically but I know you’ll be cheering me on as I will for you.” 

His phone still hovered in her hand between them, Charlotte giving him an cocky grin before unlocking it and finding Ryan’s number for him. 

“You sure?” 

“I’m giving you the push you gave me. Call him and tell him he’s got his Killmonger. Hopefully he doesn’t bust your fuckin’ ear drums like Chris did mine.” 

His eyes grew wide. “How’d you do that shit?? I never even said his name.” 

She chuckled as she turned to walk back into their room, her shoulders shrugged. “It was a lucky guess… that you just confirmed,” she smirked at him. “Now…” she sexily allowed her robe to open and slide off her shoulders, the silk fabric pooling to the floor around her feet. “Don’t stay on the phone with him too long.”

He raised an eyebrow suggestively, his thumb hovering over the call button. “I thought you were too tired?” 

She shrugged. “Consider it the last bit of encouragement you need to make that call.” She winked at him before sauntering off to their bed, delighting in the way his eyes followed her perfect ass as she climbed onto their bed. 

***

“Well, I think that part could use a bit more emotion from both of us?” Charlotte remarked as she and Malcolm reviewed their notes from earlier in the day. 

The stage was filled with chaos as many in the company practiced off to one side while the staging and lighting folks tried to get everything ready for their last rehearsal before previews started the next evening. Rebecca and Jonathan, the supporting actors in the play, were tucked in a corner just like Malcolm and Charlotte reviewing their lines. 

“For sure. We shouldn’t hold back. They haven’t seen or spoken to each other in years. All that pent up aggression and anger and hurt… it really should feel like something is simmering beneath the surface and then an explosion on stage before the number.” 

Before Charlotte could agree with him and practice a bit more, Chris’s voice grabbed their attention. 

“Heads up, everyone! So don’t hate me. But a lot of the investors can’t make previews tomorrow night but they want a peek before opening night so they asked if they could sit in on rehearsal after the producers’ meeting happening upstairs. Should be wrapping up in about 15 minutes. So we will have a small but mighty,” he emphasized, “Audience today. So everyone should give this their all and we’re gonna do it in our costumes. Go get changed. Sorry for the change of plans.”

Light mumbles and grumbles could be heard through the company as everyone filed back into their dressing rooms. Charlotte and Malcolm merely shared a smirk, the actor whispering to Charlotte, “The investors and producers say jump…” 

“And we say ‘how high?” she grimaced with an eye roll before shutting the door to her dressing room. This was the only part of her job she hated, schmoozing people whose only credentials for being there was the hefty check they wrote. Charlotte’s outfit was quick work, a simple dress, cardigan, and heels so it did not take long for her to change. 

She sang a few chords to herself, warming up her voice, while she waited for the backstage cue to return to the wings of the stage. When the lights flashed, she made her way to the wings, stopping by Malcolm who had his face drawn up in a grimace. She was thankful to find another actor who also hated the politics of it all. She followed his line of sight to the parted curtains, revealing center stage where Chris stood with a group of men in suits. They quickly reminded her of all of the men she met at Shaun's office parties and events, her distaste had not changed. Most of their backs were turned to them until Chris noticed the entire company was assembled and waiting and waved them over. 

“Let the jumping begin,” Malcolm moaned lightly as they all started walking toward the group of powerful and wealthy men. 

“And these are the stars of our show, Charlotte Bennett, Malcolm Roberts, Rebecca Sloan, and Jonathan Rivers,” Chris gestured toward all of them, the group turning around to greet them. 

However, the bright smile that Charlotte put on as she pulled on her dazzling actress persona immediately fell as her eyes locked with one of the men. Her movements halted, her entire body going cold and rigid as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on her. 

Everything around her went silent as if someone had pressed the mute button, she could not even hear her pounding heart in her ears. But she could feel it, beating against her rib cage as it threatened to burst out of her chest. She forgot where she was, who she was, as he offered her a menacing and knowing smirk. 

Instinctively, she took a step back, increasing the distance between them as the rest of the cast continued forward to introduce themselves. Only one person noticed her change in demeanor, her low, shallow breaths that were drowned out by pleasantries and greetings. 

Malcolm touched her shoulder, Charlotte almost jumping out of her skin with shock, finally taking her eyes off of a man she never expected to see here of all places, in her safe space. 

“You good? Look like you saw a ghost,” he chuckled nervously, though his eyes were filled with concern.

Her mouth felt bone dry, the words caught in her throat but she forced them out anyway. 

“No, no. Not a g-ghost. J-just…” she shook her head. “I… um, just need a minute? Tell C-Chris I’m r-running to the b-bathroom. N-not feeling great.” 

She turned and rushed out of the theater, her legs carrying her as fast as they could without breaking into an all out run until she found herself near a concession stand in the deserted lobby.  She needed as much distance as she could between herself and him. She stopped and leaned against the counter, her hand pressed into her chest as she tried to calm herself. She wondered if she would have rather seen an actual ghost. That would have been less terrifying than what awaited her back in that theater, a different monster haunting her from her past. 

Shaun Parker. 

Tag List: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @hi888888sworld @msniaimani @destinio1 @lynaye1993 @chaoticevilbakugo @blackerthings @pipsqueak-98 @miyuhpapayuh

***

A/N: So good news… we got some fluff!! Bad news… some niggas we don't like have found their way back. Thanks for reading! *drops this off and runs away*