#the answer was either one or you have to start taking the wine into account as well

[justanotherescapism]

Shitty Landlords

Billy Butcher x Fem!Reader

Tags: drinking, flirting, implied smut

A/N: This is unedited, might come back later and edit it but idk :/

Word Count: 638

Summary: You and Billy bond over your shitty landlord as the power goes out for the 4th time that week.

Billy knocked on Apartment 5, hoping she was in, but also not. The power had gone off for the 4th time this week. After the second time, he had gone out and bought a torch so at least he wouldn't have to traverse in the dark or burn hundreds of candles.

He heard some rustling around in the apartment, before she opened the door, and her face looked both relieved and annoyed to see it was Billy.

"I was hoping you were the landlord." She said.

"That shithead ain't coming anywhere near this building."

"True, but a girl's gotta hope." Billy chuckled at that. She moved out of the way, allowing him in. Her apartment was filled with candles - it was kind of romantic he thought, if it wasn't because the landlord had failed to fix the power...again.

He sat down on her couch for the fourth time that week. As neighbours, they had been cordial if not a little flirty...but never a conversation longer than five minutes. The first time the power went out, he went to make sure she was okay. After all, they were the only people living on this floor. He was pretty sure one of the other apartments was been used to grow...illegal substances and the other had been condemned on account of toxic mould.

She brought through two glasses and a bottle of wine. Billy gave her a quizzical look.

"What? You got any other ideas?"

"Fair enough, love." The nickname gave her butterflies in her stomach. She knew that it was just his British tendencies but the way he said, more...intensely. She took a sip of her wine, hoping to calm the heat inside, but it only made it worse.

Billy downed his drink, hoping it would help him not act brashly...he knew it wouldn't work but regardless he downed the whole glass. She laughed at him.

"Bad day, huh?"

"Bad week."

"Yup," She turned towards him, he feet facing him, her skirt riding up, Billy noticed it immediately. "So, what do we do now?"

"Wait until the power comes back on? Cunt's got to do it eventually."

"It took hours last time. This will be the fourth take out I've had this week." They both chuckled, looking back down at their laps. It was rare to see Billy so shy, but she was, in his opinion, way out of his league. Not just looks, but also she was funny and nice, he had a sense of humour but also killed for a living.

"Y'know love, there is something we could do to pass the time." Billy looked at her both seriously and teasingly. She knew what he meant, they had flirted with the line many times. But never had either of them been so bold. Her heart was racing, she had hoped this would happen for a while but thought he would never catch on.

"And what's that?"

"I don't have to answer that now do I, love."

Before, she could say anything, Billy closed the distance between them. He put his hands on either side of her body, before leaning in. She placed a hand on his lips, before he could.

"Does this mean anything, Billy?"

"Maybe, maybe not, love. But I've been thinking about doing this since you moved in." He leaned in, and their lips met. It started slow, both of them unsure. Billy pulled away.

But she grabbed his face and pulled him back in, roughly kissing. His tongue found hers, pushing her back into the couch. His hands began to roam her body, down her sides, her chest, her legs. She moaned into his mouth.

"Should we move this to the bedroom, love?"

"No light in there." She said breathless, as he began kissing her neck.

"Here will do then."

[deathdefyinglifeleaps]

thanksgiving texts with my friend who was raised fundamentalist:

im tired of christian beliefs being treated as not insane

[callahanisms]

lesbian housewife jackie

because she deserves to be taken care of (lesbian! jackie x sapphic/lesbian reader)

borders by @cafekitsune

♡ it just happened. you guys got your degrees. you both decided to work for a little bit, find a place to live, build your space together. you left the decorating up to jackie. she had developed a good taste with color schemes and liked to display your trinkets on the shelves that contrasted your walls.

♡ you worked for a few years, went back to school to get a graduate degree. and jackie needed a break from work. it was exhausting and she had just been let go.

♡ you promised to take care of her while she took her break. and with all this time on her hands, jackie started to pick up new hobbies. do things that made her happy.

♡ jackie quickly learned that she liked staying home. she liked crocheting a blanket for your kitten and taking the dog out on walks and making a really good meal while treating herself to a glass of wine. life was bliss.

♡ and you would come home, tired. but to your smiling wife. all baggage from the work day faded away as she wraps her arms around your shoulders and kisses you sweetly. she tastes like strawberries and smells like sugar.

♡ "how was work?" she'd ask in her sweet voice. and you'd answer with whatever happened. maybe you'd complain about your incompetent coworker. maybe you'd tell her about that thing that went so well. she'd listen to all of it, interjecting and giving you advice. good advice.

♡ then you'd eat. on tuesdays, it's always jackie's cooking. fridays is always your date night and you treat your gorgeous wife to the hottest restaurant she wants to go to. "doesn't this look interesting (y/n)?" she'd ask. and while she's in the bathroom you make a reservation so you can surprise her that friday.

♡ the other days are fair game. sometimes leftovers. sometimes you bring takeout from her favorite chinese restaurant. and sometimes you'll wake up before she does to make a crock pot recipe so she doesn't have to cook. she can sit back and do her hobbies.

♡ life is good. life is very good. you guys have enough of a routine to feel stable and enough spontaneity that it doesn't get boring. you loved surprising her with a trip to france because she mentioned how she wanted to do a wine tour.

♡ jackie's got her life outside of the home. she likes to go on runs with your neighbors, walk the dog with them, bake, host book club. they just finished reading she came to stay. you trust her with your card. plus she also has plenty of money saved up in her own account from when she worked herself to the bone.

♡ maybe you guys have kids. she gets involved with the pta. and everyone loves her baked goods when she's at the bake sale. her meticulously designed cookies are the star. and her fingers hurt from squeezing the piping bag.

♡ you rub oil into her fingers, massaging her hands, worn down. and when you're done with her hands, you have jackie lay down to massage her back. it's never good to be hunching over the kitchen island icing cookies. "your hands are magical." she moans out.

♡ the worst part is when you're gone. a business trip. a conference. either way, you had to leave. yes, you guys are intimate. of course you are. how can you not be when you both have the hots for each other and are heads over heels in love with one another?

♡ and poor jackie is left feeling needy. she misses your massages. she misses the way your hand would cup her thigh, your lips on her neck and suckling at her sweet spots. how your fingers would work her towards a blissful climax. silicone toys are fine and all. but nothing compares to having you.

♡ you know this. jackie can be a little needy, a little clingy. it's cute when she whines while in bed, trying to pull you back as you tell her you need to leave for your flight or get to work.

♡ so you come back early. you know her schedule. you come home when she's gone, set up flowers and candles and cook her a nice steak dinner with a nice glass of wine. and she comes home to you.

♡ and after your plates are cleaned and the dishes are organized in the dishwasher and the pets and kid(s) taken care of, you spread her out on the silks of your shared bed and she grips onto you as if you will disappear.

[wh0r3-for-klaus]

hi can you make headcanons about dating klaus mikaelson

sorry it took me so long to get this written, I've been dealing with a lot this year and I haven't had time to write much unfortunately. I hope you enjoy. This is just my personal thoughts about what it'd be like to date our friendly neighborhood hybrid.

Klaus is a very complex and closed off man, it’s a mix of the centuries he’s spent running from Mikeal and his deep rooted fear that those he does trust will betray him. However, once he trusts you enough to start letting you in and allows himself to let his guard down around you, that’s when you’ll be able to truly see just how many layers to this man there is.

When Klaus first arrives in Mystic Falls, he’s in Alaric’s body and focused on trying to break his curse but that doesn’t stop him from taking notice of you. He can’t help but admire how attractive you are and he likes to watch you interact with your friends and family because it helps him learn about your personality and such. 

If you’re in a relationship, he won’t be able to ignore the jealousy he feels whenever your significant others name is mentioned or he sees you with them, its not even because he wants to be in their place at first, its just because he wants to just have you. 

He wont be shy in making his affections known, even in Alarics body. He’ll always be leaving you gifts in your locker, on your porch, in your car, wherever he can get to there will be a present left for you to find.

 The gifts will always be signed with a simple “K.M” until hes in his own body, then he’ll sign it as “Klaus”. He wants you to know that it’s from him. 

He wants to see your reaction to every gift he leaves you if possible, and if he can’t see your reaction to a certain gift then he’ll either eventually ask you directly what you thought of it or he’ll use compulsion to find out if you mentioned it to your friends. If he can’t use compulsion then he’ll listen to your conversations with your friends. 

Klaus as a boyfriend:

Klaus would paint you, a lot. He may show you a few of them but some he’ll keep hidden, potentially because he’s worried about how you’ll react to them but mostly because he just wants them to remain a secret. 

He would buy you whatever you wanted, even if you protested, he wants to spoil you and he has enough money to anything you want without making a dent in his bank account. 

Klaus might even just end up giving you a credit card in his name so you can buy whatever you want whenever you want, if you refuse to accept it then he’ll slip it in your wallet when you’re not looking. 

He’s been alive for over a thousand years, man has a lot of money and doesn’t care how it’s spent as long as you’re taken care of and happy. 

Klaus will cook for you. He knows how to cook and he will spend all day preparing a nice meal for you. 

He’ll light candles and get out a special bottle of bourbon and a bottle of wine or champagne, he’ll even kick his siblings out for the night just so the night is perfect without interruptions. 

Man loves to have at least one hand on you at all times, whether it be holding your hand or resting his hand on your lower back. 

Klaus loves when you fall asleep on him, especially when you’re resting your head on his chest and he can have his arms around you. He likes knowing that you’re safe. 

Klaus enjoys laying his head on your lap or chest on occasion and letting you play with his hair, but it’s only when it’s just the two of you and he’s able to trust you enough to be vulnerable or softer with you. 

Baby boy has severe abandonment issues, he’ll randomly get mad at you for trying to leave him simply because you didn’t answer his calls and texts cause you busy. He hides his insecurity behind his anger because he doesn’t want to seem weak but inside he’s breaking down at the thought of losing you. 

Klaus will be in a crappy mood for whatever reason and will snap at you, not intentionally, he just can’t control his emotions and how he reacts to situations. 

He’ll apologize either immediately after snapping/yelling at you and seeing how it hurt/upset you or later once he’s calmed down and had time to reflect on his actions and how they affected you. 

He’ll get you a gift or numerous gifts to apologize before he’ll ever even attempt to apologize verbally, but he will if you continue to be upset with him, then he’ll beg for your forgiveness if he truly loves you. 

Speaking of love, he will tell you he loves you almost all the time after he says it for the first time. You won’t go a full day without hearing him say he loves you at least six times. 

“Darling, I love everything about you.” or “I love you, sweetheart.” or even ���You’re absolutely stunning darling, I love every little “flaw” of yours because they are a part of you and I love you.” 

He wont let you talk bad about yourself, he’ll make you stand in front of a mirror while he stands behind you and points out every little thing he loves about you as he makes you repeat what he says about each thing. 

NSFW below the cut

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Klaus has stamina, he’s a hybrid so he could go round after round without getting tired.

He definitely knows how to pleasure you, he’s had thousands of years to learn new tricks and ways to make you climax, he’ll also take the time to learn what you like and what makes you feel good and what doesn’t. 

BREEDING KINK.

Will choke you and spank you and even be rough with you but he’ll be holding back from being to rough so he doesn’t hurt you, at least while you’re human. 

He will want to have you on every surface in his house in every position, he’ll even fuck you outside under the stars just because it’s something he wants to do with you at least once. 

He’s into trying just about anything except for anything involving piss or feces, that’s a hard no for him. 

He’ll drink from you while he cums with you, bloodsharing is very intimate so he likes doing it with you as you both cum. 

He doesn’t care if you’re shaved or not, if you’re comfortable then he’s okay with it. 

He’ll shave if you prefer for him to but he’ll also just keep himself trimmed down there anyways cause he likes to be well groomed.

[lilacmingi]

HOUSEGUEST

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Vampire!Chan & Vampire!Hyunjin x fem reader

Word count: 4,522

Note: First imagine on this account aaaaa I’m so excited! This was one of the first imagines I started working on for this account all the way back in September 2021. It’s inspired by Red Lights (obviously) and my love for vampires. I hope you all enjoy <3

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The black vehicle you were in rolled to a stop in front of a lofty mansion surrounded by trees that had shed their leaves, their scraggly branches looking like bony, needlelike fingers reaching out in different directions. The whole place had such an eerie feel to it you wondered if the driver had taken you to the wrong place by accident. You were scheduled to have dinner at a mansion with some businessmen, but you weren't quite sure this was the right one.

"It looks abandoned." You analyzed aloud after stepping out of the vehicle. "I don't think anyone lives here."

You turned around only to find that the car had pulled away and was already at the end of the driveway. Your mouth dropped open in disbelief. Seeing as you had no way to get back, you decided to at least knock on the door and see if anyone happened to occupy the home.

The place looked uninhabited and dilapidated. The wooden siding appeared weathered and worn and vines had wound their way up the front of the home. The boards on the porch groaned under your feet as you advanced towards to the front door, giving it a few knocks.

You waited for an answer, but didn't get one, so you knocked once more. Still no answer.

Why would you be scheduled to have dinner at an abandoned house? Could there have been a mistake?

You were fully preparing to walk away when the door slowly creaked open, a middle-aged man sticking his head out.

"Oh. Hello, I'm-"

"Y/n L/n." The man cut you off. "They've been expecting you. Please, come in."

The man, who you assume was a butler, pulled open the door, allowing you to walk in. He then led you into a dining room.

Like the rest of the house, the dining area was dimly lit. The table was draped in a red cloth and decorated with black candles, pearls and vases. Something that caught your attention was that there were only three chairs at the table; one on either end and one sitting in the middle.

"Please, have a seat." The butler pulled out a chair for you.

You thanked him, taking your place at the table. Your eyes wandered around the room, taking in the gothic-style decor, noting how some items looked straight out of the 1800s. 

Two men emerged from the entryway and into the dining room. One was tall, slim, and had long, dark hair. The other had a strong build, a slim waist, and blonde hair.

Their appearances threw you off, as they both looked young. You wondered if these two were the people you were supposed to be meeting with. You watched as they each took a seat at either end of the table, the blonde on your left, the dark-haired one on your right.

"Hello. You must be Y/n." The taller one smiled softly.

"Yes." You nodded. "I am."

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Hyunjin."

"We've been looking forward to this meeting." The blonde spoke up, his Australian accent prominent. "I'm Chan."

"It's a pleasure to meet you both."

"It certainly is." Hyunjin grinned.

"Let's get this dinner started, shall we? How about we bring in the appetizers?" Chan suggested.

"That sounds good."

He snapped his fingers and called for who you assume was the butler. Sure enough, the older man who answered the door minutes earlier came in with a rolling cart carrying three plates and two bottles of alcohol.

"Serve the lady first." Chan instructed.

The food and beverage cart came to a stop beside you and a plate was placed before you.

"Wine or champagne?" The butler questioned.

"Champagne please."

"Excellent choice, madam." He grabbed one of the bottles, popping the cork before pouring some into a glass.

He made his way around the table and served the two men of the house before exiting the room leaving the three of you alone.

The atmosphere was uncomfortably awkward. Just who were these guys? They were quite young and appeared to be in their twenties you assumed, maybe they're the business owner's sons. They had to be. That would be the only reasonable explanation.

Picking up your fork, you took a bite of the food that was served, letting out a quiet hum of satisfaction. 

"So, Y/n, your family has done a lot for the business." Chan spoke up, cutting through the deafening silence that was hanging in the air.

"Thank you."

"We're both wondering, what are your future plans?"

"Well, I'm not too sure at the moment. My father has been giving me small tasks for the business, but I'm not so sure I want to take over."

"That's understandable." Chan nodded. "It's nice to have options."

"What about marriage?" Hyunjin inquired.

You were caught off guard by his question.

"Marriage?" You choked out.

You missed the way Chan glared at Hyunjin from across the table.

"Of course. An heiress to a large family business should be looking for a husband, no?" He raised a brow, taking a sip of wine.

"Well, as I said, I'm not sure if I want to take over the business." You decided to gloss over the marriage part, hoping he would drop it.

"And marriage?" He inquired. "A young woman your age should be thinking about settling down."

"That's a bit old-fashioned, is it not?" You countered.

"It is." Chan cut in rather firmly. "It's very old-fashioned."

Hyunjin glared sharply at the blonde across the table, the eldest's eyes narrowing in warning.

"You have a beautiful home." You spoke up, hoping to steer the subject away from marriage as well as loosen some of the tension that seemed to be looming in the air. "It's really nice. Though, it seems like a lot of space for just two people."

"Yes, it often feels empty here." Chan commented somberly. "All this space and no one to share it with."

"Perhaps I could give you a tour." Hyunjin offered with a charming grin, but Chan knew he had an ulterior motive.

"Perhaps after dinner we can both give you a tour." He cut in.

Hyunjin gripped the base of his wine glass in agitation, his patience being tested and pushed to its limits by his older counterpart.

"I would love that." You smiled, completely oblivious to what was going on.

"I should have said this earlier, but you look ravishing." Chan complimented, trying to keep the atmosphere amicable. "That color suits you very well."

"Oh." You brushed your hair back. "Thank you."

Chan swallowed at the sight of your exposed neck, his fingers curling as he gripped his knee in an attempt to ground himself. Hyunjin seemed to be in the same boat, looking as if he could pounce at any moment. Of course, Chan wouldn't let that happen.

"I apologize for being so awkward." You spoke up, shifting in your seat. "I wasn't expecting to be having dinner with the sons of the company owners."

Chan let out a short chuckle of amusement.

"We are the owners, love." Hyunjin answered.

Your eyes winded as a wave of embarrassment hit you. "Oh. I'm so sorry. You're both so young, I just assumed-"

"It's a common misconception." Chan cut in calmly. "It's no problem at all."

Though slightly embarrassed, Chan made you feel better, his tone holding no malice whatsoever. Reaching for your flute of champagne, you took a sip, your mind running through topics to talk about in hopes to fill the eerie silence that seemed to keep settling over the vast dining room.

Hyunjin's dark eyes were trained on you as you took a sipped your champagne, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as he imagined what it would be like to sink his fangs into your flesh, his thirst starting to override his conscience. 

Chan leered across the table at his housemate with a stern expression on his face, silently telling the younger vampire to behave. They'd discussed this prior to the meeting, yet Hyunjin was going against everything they talked about. He could see the temptation on the younger man's face and the way he was slowly breaking down, succumbing to his thirst.

Hyunjin glanced over as Chan shook his head.

"Don't even think about it." He whispered under his breath just loud enough for his friend to hear.

Hyunjin merely rolled his eyes. He was always bad at following rules and even worse at controlling his thirst.

Chan observed his younger comrade, watching the way his jaw clenched, his nails digging into the wood of the dining table, Chan could hear the timber cracking under the inhuman grip of Hyunjin.

The eldest cleared his throat, grabbing the attention of the dark-haired man and momentarily snapping him out of whatever daze he was falling into.

As dinner progressed, there was little talk of the business and what the future held for it.

Once dessert was served, Hyunjin's self-control was hanging by a thread and Chan was very much aware of that, you on the other hand were oblivious to quite literally everything. That's why when Hyunjin's brown irises started swirling with that all too familiar red hue that Chan decided to do something.

"Excuse me for a moment." Chan slowly pushed himself up from the table, giving a tight smile. "Hyunjin, may I speak to you alone for a moment?"

"What ever for?"

Chan's hand came down hard on Hyunjin's shoulder, clutching the fabric of his jacket.

"I think you know."

The younger male pushed himself up from the table reluctantly following his housemate out of the dining room, leaving you alone to wonder what sort of disagreement the two might be having. The entire time you'd been there the atmosphere was less than amicable, a tenseness accompanying the false friendliness.

"I have to have her." Hyunjin all but growled under his breath once the two males were well out of earshot.

"You can't. We talked about this beforehand."

"I just want a taste." He took a step forward only to be stopped by Chan's body.

"I won't let you."

"You want her too." He pointed out. "I can see it on your face."

Chan's jaw clenched in response. "That may be true, but unlike you I know how to control myself."

"Come on, Chan. I know you can smell her from here."

Hyunjin was provoking him and Chan knew that, but it wouldn't work.

"I'm going back out there and you can't stop me. So don't get in my way."

At that, Chan grabbed Hyunjin's collar, roughly jerking him forward

"I'm much stronger than you. I could easily take you. Remember that." Chan reminded lowly in Hyunjin's ear, though it sounded more like a threat.

The youngest's tongue poked the inside of his cheek in agitation as his eyes glared sharply at Chan who was really testing his patience.

"I said don't get in my way." He hissed, baring his fangs.

"Very well, then. You know what has to happen." Chan told him, his voice eerily calm but almost patronizing at the same time.

"Don't you dare."

"It's for her safety."

Chan stood over Hyunjin, chains in his hands, watching as his friend struggled under the restraints that had been wrapped around him.

"I hate you." Hyunjin spat.

Chan wasn't phased in the slightest by the harsh words spilling from the younger's lips only tightening the chains in response.

Hyunjin writhed under the shackles, his fangs bared as he tried to free himself. 

"Better not let Y/n see you like this." Chan taunted with a smirk. "She'll think you're a monster."

"I'm gonna kill you."

"I'd like to see you try."

Hyunjin jerked on the chains once more, trying to sit up, only to be held back. He let out a low growl, annoyed at his confinement.

"This for your own good, Hyunjin. I can't have you hurting our guest."

"You just want her all to yourself."

"Maybe, but I also don't want her drained dry by you. She came here for a business dinner, not to be our dinner."

With Hyunjin confined to the bed and the threat now taken care of, Chan slipped out of the room and returned to the dining area where you sat.

"Sorry about that."

"Where's Hyunjin?"

Chan let out a regretful sigh. "There's something I need to tell you about him."

"What is it?" 

"He's very dangerous. You shouldn't be around him."

"He is?" You asked, softly.

"Yes. You'd better stay close to me."

"Where is he?"

"Don't worry about that. He's not nearby, which is all that matters." He told you. "Now, how about that tour? I would love to show you around."

You momentarily wondered what was so dangerous about Hyunjin and considered excusing yourself, but Chan had such a comforting and welcoming energy you couldn't possibly say no to him.

"Okay."

"Wonderful." He smiled, offering you his hand. "Shall we begin?"

You took his hand and allowed him to lead you out of the dining room and into the massive living room, the couch and chairs made of maroon velvet. Upon closer inspection you were able to see intricate swirls and curls that were carved into the dark cherry wood lining the top of the backrest. A dust-free coffee table sat in front of the couch, a modern abstract art sculpture placed in the middle.

"The furniture is beautiful." You complimented. "Thank you. It was passed down to Hyunjin and I."

"You're lucky to have such beautiful furniture. These pieces are like something straight out of a castle."

"Ah, well, we like the gothic, vintage aesthetic."

Chan continued on, leading you to a study, then an art studio which he said belonged to Hyunjin. Some of his works were hung on the walls, most of them depicting landscapes and other scenery painted with watercolor or oil paints while others were sketched with pencil. 

You walked in step with Chan as he strode down the massive corridor lined with vintage paintings and vases on pedestals. You came to a stop, taking a moment to admire the plants. 

"Beautiful flowers." You commented, gazing at the vase full of crimson blooms.

"Do you know what the meaning of red roses are, Y/n?" Chan inquired.

You shook your head. "I don't."

"They symbolize passion, romance... desire." His gaze trailed over, eyeing you up and making you shy away from him.

"I see." You murmured, feeling your cheeks burn. "I need to use the lady's room, if you don't mind. Where can I find it?"

"Ah, of course. It's just down the hall. Turn the corner and keep going until you reach the door with the purple flowers beside it."

You responded with a quiet thank you before scurrying off. You didn't actually have to use the restroom, you just needed to go somewhere private to collect yourself. Both Chan and Hyunjin have been extremely charming and flirtatious since you arrived at the manor, this attention being something you weren't used to and it left you feeling a bit overwhelmed.

The hallways in the mansion were like a maze. Each door looked the same, making it harder to keep track. Even with Chan's instructions you weren't sure where the restroom was. 

The door with the purple flowers. You repeated mentally, looking at each vase that lined the hall, stopping when you spotted the violet-hued blooms, the only problem was the flowers sat between two doors. 

Maybe it's this one.

You reached out and twisted the knob, pushing the door on the left open, but it wasn't the restroom you found.

To your surprise, Hyunjin was splayed out on the bed, his lithe body wrapped in chains. He jerked on the metal restraints, growling as he tried and failed to escape.

When you entered the room, his head lifted, his crimson irises boring into you. You stepped back, startled by the unnatural and unsettling sight.

"Hyunjin?"

His eyes gleamed at the sight of you.

"Y/n." He purred. "There you are."

"I was just looking for the restroom." You squeaked out. "I got lost."

"Seems you have."

The way he was looking at you made you feel as if you were a piece of meat, prey that was seconds from being devoured. Before you could even try leaving, Hyunjin spoke up.

"Come closer." He said, his voice silken and sultry. 

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Why?"

"Chan says I need to stay away from you."

"Well, Chan's a liar. He's even more dangerous than me."

"What do you mean?"

"Come closer and I'll tell you."

You looked at him warily.

"Come on, Y/n. I won't bite."

Your foot moved forward as you took a step towards the bed, your heart pounding in your chest, hammering against your rig cage. Hyunjin could hear it loud and clear, his mouth watering as he thought about the delicious blood your racing heart was pumping through your body.

Everything in you screamed at you to turn around and leave, but something about Hyunjin drew you to him and you couldn't seem to stop yourself. You came to a stop beside the bed, making sure to keep your distance as you took in his restrained form.

"Come a little closer." He breathed.

"Why are you chained up?" You asked, ignoring his request.

"Lean down and I'll whisper it to you."

Slowly you began to lean down closer to Hyunjin, his sanguine irises seeming to glow as the space between the both of you diminished, then just before you could get too close, a hand reached out to grab hold of your arm and jerk you back away from the dark-haired male. You bumped into a firm chest, causing a grunt to slip from you.

"What are you doing in here?" Chan asked.

It was then that you realized it was him who had grabbed you.

When did he get in here?

"I'm sorry. I went in the wrong room." You apologized.

"You need to get out." He told you sternly, leading you towards the bedroom's entrance.

"I knew I should have locked the door." He grumbled under his breath.

"Y/n, don't let him take you." Hyunjin called from the bed.

You turned to Chan. "What's he talking about?"

"Nothing. He's not in his right mind."

"He's a wolf in sheep's clothing." Hyunjin continued. 

He was lying through his teeth. Chan was responsible and fully capable of controlling his bloodthirsty tendencies, but Hyunjin wanted you so badly he was willing to say whatever to get you to trust him.

Chan was quick to push you behind him.

"Leave." He demanded.

You took a hesitant step back, watching the way his eyes never left Hyunjin's, the two glaring at each other with such anger, it permeated the air. In that moment, you could have sworn you saw Chan's eyes flash the same crimson hue as Hyunjin's.

You slowly started backing towards the door, the animosity so palpable it was nearly suffocating you. Your hand reached for the doorknob.

"Don't leave."

It was Hyunjin that spoke.

"Stay and watch the show."

You turned to see a dark and amused smirk on his face. Chan grabbed him by the collar, the chains jingling in response to his harsh actions.

"I can't believe you." He growled. "This was supposed to be a civil dinner and you can't go five minutes without thinking about feeding."

Feeding?

"You wouldn't have to worry about that if you just let me do what I wanted. You're always getting in the way!" Hyunjin hissed, two sharp fangs on display making you gasp, your back hitting the door as you stepped further away from the two.

"Well, when letting you do what you want could cause harm to our dinner guest, I have to step in and intervene."

"I wasn't going to kill her. I just wanted a taste."

"What's going on?" You finally asked, having had enough of this odd behavior.

There was something that you didn't know and you hated that they were arguing as if you weren't standing right there in the room. Not only that, but you were starting to get scared and wondered if you were in danger.

"I didn't want it to come to this." Chan sighed, turning towards you, his irises matching Hyunjin's. "Unfortunately, you've walked into a house of vampires."

Your body went cold, limbs going numb as you felt the blood drain from your face.

Vampires.

As outlandish and impossible as it sounded, it made sense. The eerie vibe that seemed to loom over the mansion, the antique decor inside, Hyunjin's glowing red eyes, and both boys' odd behavior. It all added up. You knew the truth, but you couldn't seem to process it.

"Look, you've scared her." Hyunjin remarked from his restrained position.

"You're the one who scared her." Chan snapped, agitated at his younger housemate for ruining the evening.

Out of all the questions and phrases swarming around your jumbled and confused mind, the words that came out were, "I need to leave."

Before you could even reach for the doorknob, Chan was standing before you, stopping you from doing anything.

"Not so fast."

You stiffened, fearing the thought of what he might do to you and what he was capable of.

"You can't leave without letting me explain."

"Then explain."

Chan gave a glance to Hyunjin before pulling you out of the room, ignoring the younger vampire's protests as he did so.

"I'm sorry you had to see that." He apologized once you were standing out in the hallway.

You didn't respond, instead taking a step away from Chan in hopes to put a little distance between the both of you.

"Despite what you saw, Hyunjin knows how to control himself. However, some days are a struggle—especially today. I had to chain him up in order to keep him from doing something stupid. Our plan was to have a nice meal with you and discuss business."

"You didn't exactly do that."

"No, and I blame Hyunjin for that. He was getting way off topic earlier."

Though Chan seemed to be the most level-headed between the two, you didn't want to let your guard down completely. After all, these are vampires you're dealing with. If there was some truth in those not-so-fictitious stories, then Chan and Hyunjin's kind were very persuasive.

"You're not going to hurt me, are you?"

It was a stupid question to ask. He could very easily lie and say he would never lay a finger on you.

Chan seemed taken aback at your inquiry, his expression showing the slight offense he had taken due to the query. "No. Of course not."

You studied his features, gazing warily into his crimson irises. He could sense your unease and was quick to return to his normal appearance, not wanting to make you any more uncomfortable than you already were.

"I promise. You have my word, Y/n."

A beat passed before you nodded. "Alright."

You hoped you wouldn't regret that.

He took a single step forward and it took everything in you not to back away.

"I didn't even ask if you were okay." He tilted his head to the side, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek as he scanned your face, concern etched onto his alluringly handsome features.

You had to admit, despite knowing Chan and Hyunjin were both vampires, you couldn't deny the fact that they were both incredibly good-looking and charming. 

They could drain you dry in less than a minute. A voice in your head reminded you.

But the way Chan's thumb dragged along your bottom lip so delicately was making you think differently.

Hyunjin, who was just on the other side of the door, could hear how fast your heart was beating. He jerked on the chains in another failed attempt to break or loosen them, growling in agitation when they didn't budge, only rattling due to his abrupt movements.

"I know what you're doing!" He yelled from inside. "You want her all to yourself!"

"I would suggest continuing the tour of the mansion, but I think it's best we send you home." Chan mentioned, dropping his hand from your face, choosing to ignore his younger counterpart's comments from inside the room.

Home. You liked the sound of that.

This day had been far too strange for your liking.

"What about him?" You asked.

"I'll deal with him later. A blood bag is all he needs to calm him down."

The mention of the bodily fluid made the corner of your mouth twitch downward in distaste. He spoke about it so casually as if it was a normal thing—well, for them it was.

"Follow me." Chan extended his hand, but you didn't take it.

He slowly retracted his outstretched palm, resting his hands behind his back and striding down the hallway.

Back in the living room, Chan offered you a seat on the sofa. You obliged, keeping your hands folded in your lap and your eyes fixed on the floor. The feeling of the couch cushion sinking next to you grabbed your attention. Sitting right beside you on the sofa was Chan, his deep brown eyes gazing at you, scanning over your features.

He brought his hand up to your face, his thumb caressing your cheek, a gentle smile on his full lips, which you noticed were incredibly pretty.

"I'm glad you're okay, my sweet."

The term of endearment made your heart flip despite being on edge around him.

Your gaze stayed locked on Chan as he leaned in and pressed a delicate kiss just underneath your ear, hesitant in his actions as if to test the waters. Your mind screamed danger but you couldn't seem to move away. You wondered if he was capable of compelling people like the movies depict or if he was just that charming.

His kisses moved further down your neck, nearing your carotid artery. Your breath hitched in response, worried of what his true intentions were.

"I won't hurt you." He assured gently, pressing another kiss to your skin.

The sound of a car horn outside made Chan pull away. He got to his feet and moved over to see who it was.

"Oh." Chan peered out the window. "Looks like your ride is here."

Though he proved to not be a threat, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief.

"I should go, then." You responded, keeping your voice even so as not to give away how eager you were to leave the mansion.

Despite your efforts to appear calm, Chan could hear how rapidly your heart was racing and he knew it wasn't from the kiss.

He led you over to the front entrance and allowed you to step outside where you muttered a goodbye over your shoulder and got inside the car, not closing the door just yet.

"Come back soon, yeah?" Chan grinned, waving at you from the doorway.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

[violetsaffron5]

Infinity

| Ao3 | Discord 18+ | Series Masterlist | Taglist | Chapter 10 |

9 | Say Yes to the Dress

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x f!Reader

Day out on the town shopping with Shoko, Utahime and Gojo tags along, because he's a menace.

words: 3474

cw: jealousy

Life has gone on like normal over the past few weeks - Satoru did end up calling you back that night, several hours after you had gotten home and had some time to cool off. Rather than answering, you opted to ignore it, telling him you had fallen asleep by that time.

He didn’t question it, not that you really thought he would, but he did take a second to look you over like he didn’t quite believe you. You’d never be able to tell if he didn’t, he’s essentially unreadable to you - yet he’s able to read you like an open book. It’s truly unfair.

You’ve considered telling him you think the both of you should take a step back in your extra-curricular activities, that you think it’s best if you start trying to make your way out into the real world with your abilities once again, test out what you’ve learned and hopefully not leave a trail of death in your wake.

To be honest, it’s a bit of an overindulgence anyway. You’ll give him credit where it’s due and acknowledge he’s put in effort to help train you while fucking your brains out. It’s not the most creative, but it works, having you force yourself to stop siphoning his energy mid drain.

Will it work out in the real world, with someone who isn’t guaranteed to survive? You’re not sure, not too confident either, but the only way to find out is to try. Yet you don’t want to, not if you were really honest with yourself, which you don’t want to be right now.

There has been a small step back in your… relationship with him. He’s been busier recently, with missions, with the higher ups he says. 

Whatever. It just makes everything easier not seeing him on a daily basis. You’ve been training more with Nanami anyway, going out on missions with him, have another one planned for next week.

He’s not as careless as Satoru is when you go out to exercise curses, though he does like to talk while fighting on occasion, which you have a hard time concentrating on. Nanami rarely gives a compliment, rarely tells you if you’re doing well or not, so it’s harder to gauge your growth with him - though you suspect if he was truly impressed with something you did, he would tell you in his own way.

After coming back from one of the missions with Nanami, a grade three you were asked to exorcise with no outside help, another field test of sorts, away from controlled environments like what Satoru had been having you do, you found an envelope laying on your desk.

The small package contained a note with a drawing of a cloud on it, and left you breathless, because inside sat a cool 1.65 billion yen. To say you wanted to vomit from the sight of so much money is an understatement, and it felt wrong depositing it into your account. Sure, you were told the mission to get Playful Cloud was a secret, but why wasn’t this deposited into your account like your other pay, and why was it so much?

You’ve been paid for each of the previous curses exercised; six hundred thousand yen for the Vengeful Spirit, and between two to three hundred thousand for every curse after between the two men training you, which has left you wide eyed each time the money is seamlessly deposited into your bank account. But this seemed to be overkill.

You let it go, trying not to dwell on it too much - a pay day is a pay day after all, and if everyone wants to be weird about the mission, who are you to say otherwise?

So, you decided to take the money and go out on the town looking for an outfit to wear to your upcoming ceremony.

Satoru is the one who told you about it the other night, came over unannounced, bottle of wine in hand, said there would be a party at the school for getting your grade assigned and you should wear something nice since people from the clans and both schools would be there. They only do this sort of thing for high enough rankings, so you should be proud of your accomplishments.

He watched the smile spread across your face, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear letting his hand ghost down your neck until you cleared your throat and filled your glass up, moving away from his touch.

“Hello?” Your name is being called, snapping you out of your thoughts. Shoko stands at the full length mirror in the dressing room you’re in holding up a gorgeous low cut blue dress.

“I like that one,” you tell her, urging her to go try it on so she can see if she actually likes the way it fits or not. Utahime walks over in a little black dress that’s cute, but doesn’t really seem to be her style.

She stands on a little stool in front of a row of mirrors, looking at herself in it. This is the most impressive dressing room you’ve ever been in, in your life. The kind that has rows of mirrors so you can see yourself in every angle, an attendant there to help zip up dresses, take clothes back or bring you little glasses of champagne to drink while lounging around the room.

The room itself is decorated in soft pinks, golds and whites, adding to the elegance.

“You should try this wine red one,” you stand, grabbing it from the rack to hand it to her, “red really suits you.”

“Are you going to try anything on?” Shoko asks, looking at you through the mirror as she slips the dress on, “or are you going to just keep sitting there watching us try clothes on for your party?”

“Well, I thought Satoru was going to bring some dresses in for me, but he’s taking forever.” You shrug, not thinking too much of it.

Suguru is out on some missions that he apparently didn’t need Satoru’s help with. When Satoru texted you earlier in the day asking your plans, he inserted himself, despite telling him this was supposed to be a girls day out on the town.

He’s been a good sport about it so far, going from store to store with the three of you without too many complaints. He’s teased Shoko several times about how this is reminiscent of their high school days, going out shopping with her and being forced to carry all the bags and boxes, to which she quips “and somehow you’ve managed to get more annoying over the years. It’s impressive really,” resulting in him pouting.

Before either Shoko or Utahime can make some snide comment about how long Satoru is taking, there’s a knock on the door and a head of white fluffy hair poking its way inside seeing everyone dressed before fully coming in. Honestly, you’re surprised he had the decency to do that, but then again, if Shoko or Utahime were getting dressed they likely would have ripped his head off.

The two of them decide to go back into the store to grab a few more dresses to try on as Satoru walks in, carrying entirely way too many outfits, and hangs them on the rack next to the mirrors.

All of the dresses he brought in are interesting to say the least. You can see him in the mirror as you take off your clothes, sitting in the large wingback chair with his legs crossed. He has a small smirk on his face, but you don’t say anything as you slip on a very little black dress he brought in.

“Satoru, this dress is so tiny,” you complain, turning to look at your ass in the mirror. If you bend slightly in any direction, your ass is going to be hanging out.

“That’s the point.” He’s standing, walking over to you.

“I’m not going to dress as some Barbie doll.”

“But it-”

“Do not say it looks good. It doesn’t.”

“But you-”

“Do not say I look hot.”

He pouts slightly before chuckling, grabbing your chin, making you look at him, “you look beautiful.”

Before you have a chance to tell him to stop, he’s turned you around, lifting you by your thighs to wrap your legs around his waist as he pushes you against the wall.

There’s nowhere for the dress to go but up as you circle your hips. You can’t even help yourself, your body just wants to grind on him, especially when he kisses that spot below your ear that makes your breath hitch every time.

“You’re gonna leave a wet spot on my pants if you don’t stop,” he groans through searing kisses, his own hips moving in time with yours.

And then there’s a knock on the door and Shoko’s walking in giving you both a disgusted look before turning away, setting several dresses on a rack for them to try on. Utahime follows shortly after her, a few more dresses in hand as she scoffs and rolls her eyes while you adjust the incredibly tiny dress you have on.

Satoru, annoying as ever, flashes her his best smile and she looks like she’s ready to rip his throat out.

“What? I was just helping her with the dress.” He tries to say innocently, but everyone in the room knows better.

“You’re not wearing that.” Utahime states firmly as Satoru groans and rolls his eyes.

Rather than sending Satoru on his own this time, you go out with him, insisting on picking out your own dresses this time because even though he has impeccable taste with his own clothes, he clearly cannot be trusted to find something for you to wear.

You do, however, send him off to look for a pair of shoes, giving him incredibly specific details about the kind you like to wear, hoping you can at least trust him in that regard.

While he’s away, you grab several dresses and hold them up to you, debating on if they’re something you would like to take back and try on. While holding up a floor length black Versace dress with a low neckline a tall man walks over to you, dazzling teeth on full display as he looks you up and down.

“Bet that dress would look great on you,” he says, voice deep, smooth like honey.

You snort, letting out a little chuckle as you look over to meet his gaze. His eyes are a deep shade of brown, darker than any you’ve seen before, but so inviting, short curly black hair going down into a fade. His shoulders are broad, and it’s easy to see the muscles of his chest and arms outlined through his shirt.

“Let me guess, it would look better off me too?” You’re grinning back at him, rolling your eyes as he agrees with your statement.

“Names Saito Akira,” he says, leaning against the wall watching as you grab the fabric of the dress by your hips, pulling it back flush against you trying to imagine it on. “What’s a pretty girl like you shopping all alone?”

“What makes you think I’m alone?”

“Mm. Been watching you for a few minutes. You haven’t spoken to anyone, that I’ve seen at least.”

“So you were stalking me?” You raise an eyebrow, watching him from the corner of your eye.

“Only so I could find out if you were with anybody, and if not,” he reaches into the pocket of his back slacks pulling out his phone, “to ask for your number.”

You laugh to yourself, thinking it was silly to have been expecting the worst. You look at the phone in his hand, already opened to a new contact and chew on the side of your cheek before grabbing his phone and typing in your name.

Before you’re able to enter your number, a more familiar hand reaches over, snatching it from your grasp and gripping onto it tight enough to cause several cracks to split up the screen. You look at Satoru surprised and dumbfounded as he spins it around in his hand.

“Sorry, man. I don’t share.”

You look at Satoru feathering your jaw as he casually hands the man his broken phone back before turning to you with a pristine smile holding up a pair of black strappy heels he found.

“What the fuck man? Listen, I didn’t realize she was taken, alright?”

“I’m not.” You seethe through clenched teeth, your annoyance with the white haired menace evident in your tone. The man walks away as Satoru ignores both him and your frustrations, looking at the dress you have in your hand.

“You cannot keep doing that shit,” you're pissed and annoyed that once again, he has come over and ruined your chance at going out and having some semblance of a normal relationship.

Satoru raises an eyebrow, looking up at you, his expression hard to read.

“You were seriously interested in him?” Satoru scoffs, looking over his shoulder, pointing in the direction the man walked off in, “that guy? Really?”

“You don’t get to question that, Satoru. I just - I want to be able to go out on a date, have a normal relationship for the first time in my life and you keep ruining every opportunity that presents itself.”

He tilts his head down, letting his glasses fall down the bridge of his nose, crystalline eyes icy, flickering between yours, “so you want to go out, get a boyfriend. You think he’d be okay with you coming home and fucking me?”

“That’s not something you get to decide- ”

“Satoru?” A woman says his name, interrupting your conversation.

“Hey, uh - you,” he says awkwardly, trying and failing to remember her name, but you certainly remember her. The woman from the bar the last time you went out, the one with the lemon colored dress who is now in a lemon colored tank top. It must be her favorite color.

Your heart sinks as you listen to her ask why he never contacted her after the other night, and he so casually mentions he’s busy, meets with his bosses a lot, and just like Suguru’s words to you; it hurts more than it should, especially after trying to express yourself during that conversation.

Your chest tightens, and your blood boils at the scene playing out before you. Clenching and unclenching your jaw several times, you take a deep breath, swallowing the tears that so needlessly want to present themselves and decide to head back to the dressing room, so he can handle… whatever this is.

Despite what Suguru told you, you’ve clearly let the sweet nothings Satoru would whisper to you during sex, and even outside of it when you’re hanging out, get to you because you were sure he had more feelings than he was trying to let on.

And you weren’t entirely sure what Suguru told you was even true - sure, there was probably some truth to it, but after his display of lying to you so vehemently during that mission, you can’t find it in yourself to trust anything he’s said.

“I’m ready to date,” you say, entering the dressing room and sitting down on the wingback chair behind the mirrors with a dramatic huff, “but you know, going slow with the whole sexual aspect of things at first.”

You don’t miss the look Utahime and Shoko share in the mirror, noticing you only brought back one dress with you.

“Um, okay. I thought you and -”

“How are you going to survive?” Shoko asks, cutting Utahime off with a shake of her head.

You groan and shake your head, tapping your foot repeatedly on the ground in annoyance before sighing, “that’s the complicated part, and one of… a few reasons why I haven’t put in a lot of effort to do it yet. I would likely have to go behind their back, have a sexual relationship with someone else and that’s not really fair to them, is it? Not only that, how am I supposed to explain to someone what I am, when I don’t even know? I’d have to tell them about sorcerers and how I feed, and hope they don’t think I’m just trying to run around behind their back and-”

“Ok. Take a deep breath,” Utahime says once you begin to ramble, “let’s focus on one problem at a time. What happened?”

Taking her advice, you do take a deep breath and click your tongue before telling them the events that just took place. They both purse their lips and nod their heads, but they let you continue without interrupting.

All the while, you sit in the chair wondering if it’s fair to get mad at him for cockblocking you, when you’ve clearly gotten upset over that woman, not once, but twice now. You decide that yes, it is fair and that he’s an asshole because even though he obviously isn’t a fan of the idea of you going out and dating, he’s clearly still going out, doing whatever he wants.

“You know, Gojo isn’t really one to stick around -” Shoko begins.

“Yeah, I've heard,” you give a wry laugh, thinking about what Geto said to you during your mission with him. Shoko gives you a strange look, you’re not entirely sure what it means.

“But,” she continues, annoyance in her voice that you interrupted her, “I’d venture to guess he’s come to you more than once.”

“Obviously.” Utahime mutters under her breath.

You sigh and purse your lips, “yeah, but that’s all it is,” you answer quietly, more hurt than you mean to sound, “just sex.”

“Is that so bad for you?”

“Why does everyone think that’s the only thing I want? Why can’t I want something more too, like any other normal person has?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Shoko sighs, “look, you’ve only been managing your hunger and powers for a few months. Why are you in such a rush to have more? Live a little, enjoy what you have going on now.”

“Because I want to be able to have a relationship that means something. I want to be able to wake up next to the person I care about, not a cold body.”

“Why couldn’t you have that with Gojo?” Shoko asks curiously, Utahime on the other hand makes a disgruntled sound as she stands back up to try on another dress.

“I –” you begin before cutting yourself off, opening your mouth to answer several times before closing it again. It’s a good point. Well, maybe not good, but it is a point nonetheless.

Satoru has grown to be someone quite special in your life, and you thought maybe you were special to him too. Always coming around, wanting to hang out whether it was for sex or to spend time with one another - you never minded either way, not before Suguru began whispering in your ear.

And it’s not like you have experience with the whole friends with benefits aspect, considering it’s never been a possibility before him. So is it really all that surprising you’ve realized you’ve grown somewhat attached to him?

It probably shouldn’t be.

The corners of your lip quirk up momentarily, picking at your fingernails, “before these powers, I could go on a date, kiss someone without fear that they would die. I… can’t do that anymore. He’s clearly able to go out and do what he wants, and yet, I’m tethered to him whether I like it or not. It’s not fair. It’s-- frustrating.”

“Then don’t let yourself be tethered to the asshole.” Utahime says, looking at herself in the mirror. The dress she put on looks stunning, clinging to her in all the right places, a sultry slit up the side that ends in the middle of her thigh.

Satoru comes back to the changing room not long after, the room growing quiet as he strolls in and sits at the chair next to yours as the other two sort through the dresses they tried on to find the ones they want to buy. You decide to just get the black one you grabbed earlier, even though you hadn’t tried it on yet.

He doesn’t say anything, not pushing his luck for once, but it’s obvious the three of you were talking about him before he walked in the room. And he’d have to be blind in order to see you’re more upset with him than he thought you would be, with the way you won’t even look at him. Just giving him the silent treatment as you pack up the dress and the shoes he found before checking out and leaving the store.

taglist: @q-the-rockaholic @greenlovers @naorizenin @a1hina @plants-w0rld @patat-boi @rlvslouis @littledemoness15 @z33sblog @thisbicc @nothisispatrick300 @km7474 @missyasma @hecatesflames @arisucat @swoon-for-joon @creolequeen11210 @imperatorkhaleesi

[k3yreviewer25]

written for @b1rdza's mtiys prompt of 'first kiss'

i know I'm super late to the party with this, but writings been really hard recently for some reason and i got tired of looking at this, so 👍

"Okay, truth or dare?"

"Uhhhhh, truth."

"Are you sick of playing this game yet?"

"Yes."

"... Guess we should've brought a pack of cards or something, huh?"

Tubbo rolled his head over to look at Ranboo, curled up on his own cot on the other side of the room. With the mansion being basically completed, the two of them had decided to spend a night in it, get a feel for the space. What they hadn't accounted for was getting sleepover jitters. And with their new bedroom being so freaking huge, they'd both agreed that sleeping in the closet would feel more cozy.

Tubbo sat up. "Well, what do you want to do?"

"I mean, sleep, obviously, but-" Ranboo sat up as well. "-I think I might remember the way up to the roof? If you wanna stargaze."

That did sound pretty nice. Tubbo began gathering up his blanket. "Yeah, sure."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

He shouldn't have trusted Ranboo of all people when he said he remembered the way up there. After at least ten minutes of walking, Tubbo was pretty sure they'd gone down a floor. Eventually, they ended up in the kitchen, which had been partially furnished with cabinets and a fridge.

"So this is, um, this isn't it," Ranboo said. "Oops."

"Yeah, no kidding." Tubbo began rooting through random cabinets. "Maybe Foolish left snacks, or something though- Oh! Bingo!"

Straightening up, he held up an unopened wine bottle. Ranboo looked dubious. "Are you sure that's a good idea? I mean, with going on the roof and all?"

"One bottle between the two of us is hardly gonna do anything, believe me," Tubbo said. "But if you want, we could just go back to bed and hang out there."

Ranboo nodded. "Yeah, that sounds fine. And I, um, I don't think I remember how to get up to the roof anyway."

"Maybe we can get Foolish to draw us a map."

They managed to get back to their room all right, thankfully. Back in the closet, Tubbo dragged his cot over next to Ranboo's and pried the cork out of the bottle. The wine was pretty good, as far as wines went; tasted like sweet berries. He passed it to Ranboo and watched him take a swig.

"You know, only a few more days, and then we can start actually moving in here," Tubbo mused. "Crazy, right?"

"Yeah, seriously. Feels like not that long ago when you first started Snowchester."

Well, all things considered, it really hadn't been all that long ago, had it? A couple months. And with all that had happened in those couple months, time had just flown by. It was like a whole year's worth of life had gone by. Ranboo handed the bottle back. Tubbo took it, but didn't drink.

"Hey, Ran?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Wanna play truth or dare some more?"

"Really man?"

"But-" Tubbo held up a finger for emphasis. "-there's a pass option. You can either answer the question / do the dare, or you can take a drink. Whoever's drank less by the end wins."

After a moment of pondering, Ranboo nodded. "Sure, why not?"

"Great! So, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Do you actually like my cooking?"

"Um, I, uh- pass?"

Tubbo clicked his tongue as he handed the bottle back over. "For shame, man, for shame. After all the love I put into those meals."

"And all the salt."

"Food needs salt, dude!"

"Not that much-" He cut himself off, shaking his head. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

"I dare you to use less salt next time you cook."

"Pass!" The next sip went down even smoother than the first. The inclusion of alcohol was already making this more fun than before. "Truth or dare?"

"I'll also go dare."

"Dare you to let me message someone on your comm."

"...Deal."

He'd thought for sure that that would've been a pass. Now he just had to actually come up with something.

"I'm already regretting this," Ranboo said, watching Tubbo warily.

"Oh, come on, would I ever do anything to embarrass you?" He grinned as Ranboo gave him a flat stare. Drafting up a quick message, he sent it and handed the comm back. "And you have to wait for him to see it before you send another message."

Ranboo groaned when he looked at the screen. "Really? Techno?"

"Yup. So?"

"Truth or dare?"

As the game went on, the bottle got lighter and lighter, and Tubbo's head got more and more airy, until finally there was only a single sip left. Tubbo swished it around absentmindedly, the bottle's neck loose in his hand.

"Wait, is it my turn or yours?" Ranboo asked. One fun thing they were learning tonight was that apparently alcohol did not help his memory problems in the slightest.

"I think yours." Of course, the alcohol wasn't really helping Tubbo's memory either. "Truth or dare?"

"I'll go......... truth."

"Have you..." Prime, he was so tired. He needed to come up with some question to make Ranboo pass so that they could finish the bottle. "Have you ever kissed anyone?"

"Oh, um-" His cheeks were a beautiful shade of magenta. "Yeah."

The bottle almost slipped out of his hand. "Wait, really?"

"You don't have to sound that surprised," Ranboo huffed, crossing his arms. "I had a life before I came here. I wasn't just- just sitting in a room eating crackers for 16 years."

"I know, I know, I just didn't really- I dunno, I've never really thought about it."

"About what, me kissing people?"

"I guess so." Though, now that he had thought about it- "You any good at it?"

That was a weird question, wasn't it? Ranboo shrugged. "I dunno, I guess?"

"You guess."

"I mean, I didn't really, like, ask for feedback or anything. We just kinda- it happened and then we moved on." He shook his head. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Have you ever kissed anyone?"

"Pass!" Chugging the last sip, he set the bottle on the floor and flopped onto his back. "G'night!"

"Oh. Yeah, good- good night." Ranboo's cot creaked as he got himself settled onto it. "And, um, sorry if that was out of line. The question, I mean."

Tubbo snorted. "Nah, it's fine. Just wanted an excuse to drink. If you're actually curious, I haven't."

"Oh. Are you, like, not interested, or..."

"I mean, I wouldn't say I'm not interested, just been pretty busy for like- past couple years, ya know? Kinda hard to fit in smooching between the wars and shit. And it's not like anyone was lining up for it or anything."

"I can imagine. About the wars and stuff, not- Sorry, that didn't come out right."

"I get it, man, I get it," Tubbo said, waving a hand. "Not like I'm winning any beauty pageants any time soon."

"You know that's not what I meant." He sounded so offended that Tubbo rolled over to face him.

"I know, I know, I'm just teasing. I know you find me irresistibly attractive." Even in the dark, he could see the blush spreading over Ranboo's face. He was practically glowing. "You're pretty when you blush."

Prime, he really needed to not talk when he'd been drinking. But Ranboo did look pretty, the purplish hue really bringing out the vibrancy of his eyes. He was like a big glow stick. A really pretty, really tall glow stick.

"I think you're pretty too. Or, um, handsome, I guess is- would be a better word."

Tubbo's stomach twisted; ugh, he'd probably drank too much. He rolled onto his back. "You don't have to say that. I'm not gonna get offended or anything."

"But I do," Ranboo said, propping himself up on his elbow. "I really do think you're handsome."

He really did sound earnest about it too. But he had to be lying, if not maliciously, then out of nicety. "Right, five things, go."

"What?"

"Five things that you think make me handsome or whatever."

"Oh, easy." He leaned over Tubbo, an unfamiliar intensity in his eyes, and counted on his fingers. "One, you have really nice eyes-"

Only one eye, really.

"-Two, I like your nose-"

What was left of it.

"-Three, you have really cute ears-"

Well, okay, that was a given. Goat ears were adorable.

"-Four, I think your scars look really badass-"

"Wow, a rare swear from Mr. Ranboo Beloved."

"'Ass' isn't really a swear though? And five, you're confident and smart and I- I really admire that." There he was again, sounding so damn sincere. He must be at least a little bit sincere, because he'd rattled those off so quickly. And he was actually looking Tubbo in the face, which he never did. Tubbo's stomach swooped as Ranboo bent down towards him. "And- and if no one else is in line for it, I would really like to kiss you."

It didn't surprise Tubbo like he thought it would. Maybe because he's imagined Ranboo saying it before. But in all those imaginings, Tubbo always said something suave in return, made Ranboo blush, and then swept him off his feet. Now his mouth was dry as he croaked out, "Y-yup. Sounds good."

It was only when Ranboo's face was an inch away from his that he remembered to close his eyes, cause lord knows he didn't want to be the guy that kept his eyes open during a kiss, and then lips were pressed to his.

It wasn't- bad, he didn't think, though the taste of the wine on their breaths was a bit overwhelming. Shit, they really should've brushed their teeth first.

A tingle ran down his spine as Ranboo's hand slid around the back of his head, pulling him in closer, fingers tangling in his hair-

Wait, should he be doing something with his hands? They were just folded over his stomach, suddenly feeling all too heavy and tense. Raising a hand, he slowly moved it up to Ranboo's face, careful that he didn't end up poking him in the eye or something. His cheek was smooth, and fit so well into Tubbo's palm.

And then, all too soon, Ranboo's lips left his, though he kept his forehead pressed tight against Tubbo's. This was nice too; just feeling the breath on his face, and the fingers combing through his hair.

Yeah, he could totally get used to this.

[msmercury84]

"I Double Dare You," "Leigh Sings on a Record"

A couple of months after Pat and Johnny Martin visited the Guarneres, Leigh was working at the radio station in Philadelphia. She had just completed her morning show. The station manager went into the studio to speak with her.

He told Leigh that there was an important long distance call for her from Laverne Andrews. She went to the station manager's office to take the telephone call.

Andrews surprised Leigh, telling her that the sisters' record label, Decca, wanted to make a new record from the master tapes of the Paris concert that was featured on CBS radio nationwide. Laverne said the concert was very popular and well liked by those who heard the broadcast. People had been writing to Decca to inquire if an album of the show was going to become available in stores.

The new Mrs. Guarnere was almost shocked into silence by the news. Andrews then informed her,

"They've told us that this album will probably be a big seller. Hold on to your hat, Leigh, since you performed in that show, you're getting a small percentage of the royalties from the sales.

Our manager said that you unfortunately won't get the same percentage we get. We're in favor of you getting the same amount, but legally speaking, our manager's hands are tied." Leigh told her,

"Don't even worry about that. This is incredible news! I'm just happy to be on the recording. When will the album be available to buy? That's the first question Bill will ask." Laverne told her that the album would be released around Thanksgiving.

When Leigh was finished with work for the day, she stopped by a local market to get the ingredients for antipasto and a nice bottle of red wine. After returning home, she quickly made the batter for a few batches of pizzelles and set about making Bill's favorite cookies.

Leigh decided to make her husband's favorite meal of spaghetti with one meat ball. She used the gravy recipe from her former roommate and made the antipasto. The red wine was uncorked to allow it to breathe.

After the cooking was finished, except for the pasta, Leigh put on the red Wiggle Dress with the Sweetheart Neckline, the dress Guarnere liked the best on her.

When Bill got home, he noticed the dress,

"Baby, you look like a million bucks!" He then embraced and kissed her. Guarnere added, "Somethin' smells great. Is that ( he pronounced the word as " dat") your spaghetti gravy an' some pizzelles?" Leigh confirmed that she made the gravy and the cookies. She excitedly told him the good news about the album. Bill shouted,

"Holy God, Sweetheart! That's wonderful news!" He gave her an extra passionate kiss, saying,

"Think of it, you're gonna be on a record. Those things will sell like hotcakes. Gettin' even a small percentage of the money will be a super addition to our savins account. We can put it toward buyin' a house or startin' a family, whatever ya wanna do."

"I'm in favor of either idea, so whatever you decide is fine." They wound up deciding to put the money in savings for hospital expenses when they were ready to start a family.

"Honey, I gotta tell Ma an' Pop the good news. Is it OK if I call 'em before you call your folks?" Leigh said that was fine with her. Guarnere quickly dialed the telephone number for his parents' house. Augusta answered and Bill told her,

"Ma, I have some excitin' news."

"Are you and Leigh havin' a baby?"

"No, Ma, this is even bigger news than that." When he told Augusta about the record album, Leigh clearly heard her shouting,

"Oh my God, Billy! Leigh's gonna be on a record? Wait just a minute, I need to tell your pop." Mrs. Guarnere translated her son's message and Joseph replied.

"Your pop says to tell Leigh congratulations. He's very happy for her. Would ya please put her on the phone?" Bill handed the telephone to Leigh,

"Hello, Mama. I'm still shocked by the good news."

"Sweetie, you've earned it because of your talent. As soon as that record goes on sale, you bet your bottom dollar that we're buyin' it." Leigh thanked Mrs. Guarnere for her kind words. Before hanging up, Augusta told her,

"We're proud of you, Leigh, and we love you." Leigh told her mother-in-law that she loved her and her father-in-law, too. The Spencers were as happy as the Guarneres to hear about the record and Cal said that he would buy a copy as soon as the album went on sale.

After the call ended, Bill told Leigh,

"Baby, I've always been proud of ya, but this is the icin' on the cake. I'm gonna be the first one in line at the record store when it goes on sale, even if I have to wait there all night. While I'm waitin' in line, I'll tell people that the same Leigh Guarnere on the record is my wife."

"Actually, Honey, you won' t have to buy the record. Once it's made, we'll get a complimentary copy from Decca Records." Bill looked agitated for a moment and he frowned,

"Oh, hell, we ain't got a record player. I'm gonna buy a nice one an' I want ya to go wit' me to pick it out. You know what sounds good, since you're a professional singer an' a musician." Leigh agreed to go to the store with him, asking,

"Please, Bill, don't brag too much. Other people probably aren't as crazy about my singing as my sweet husband."

"I'll try to not go overboard wit' the braggin'. Sweetheart, those people in Paris gave ya a standin' ovation. That record company decided to make a record outta that broadcast. You sang in that show an' you're part o' why that show was a success." Leigh hugged him,

"I appreciate your support and your enthusiasm, Honey. It's wonderful that we'll have a recording of the night our engagement was announced.

"I wish somebody made a movie of that show. Someday our kids could see their beautiful ma on stage, an' they could see how much their ma an' pop love each other, 'course they'd already know that."

"I wish a movie of the show existed, too. That way our kids could see how handsome their pop looked in his uniform. They could see and hear what their mama did onstage, too."

"How about we return to reality and have some supper?" Bill insisted on helping her get everything served. Once they were seated he asked the blessing.

"Antipasto before the spaghetti, you're spoilin' me, Baby."

"I thought we should celebrate the good news." Guarnere got the spaghetti served and he brought the bowl of sauce to the table with some freshly grated parmesan. They enjoyed fresh garlic butter on some Italian bread Leigh made the day before.

"The first time you made this gravy for me was when we got to Aldebourne." Leigh laughed,

"That was the day I surprised you with what I didn't wear. Good thing I had the gravy simmering because we were also simmering and supper was delayed." Guarnere winked at her,

"Oh, I'll never forget how ya surprised me. You're doin' better, Baby. Bein' in an Italian family an' livin' in an Italian neighborhood is payin' off. You didn't call it sauce."

"I'm doing my best to be a good Italian wife and fit in where the neighborhood is concerned.

"Baby, you're the best wife in the neighborhood an' you're fittin' in just fine."

The next day, after Bill and Leigh were finished with work, they went downtown to shop for a record player. After listening to several models, they chose an RCA record player and radio combination with built in speakers. A salesman introduced himself and asked if he could assist them.

"I'm Bill Guarnere an' this is my wife, Leigh. We'd like to buy this record player an' radio. My wife sang as a guest in the concert wit' the Andrews Sisters that was on CBS Radio last October. Decca Records is usin' the tapes from that show to make a new record that's coming' out in November." The salesman replied,

"My wife and I really enjoyed that concert. Mrs. Guarnere, are you the same Leigh Guarnere who is on our local CBS Radio station?" She confirmed that she was the singer named Leigh who had shows on CBS Radio. Then the salesman added as he looked at Bill,

"If that's the case, you're the paratrooper who joined them onstage when the Andrews Sisters sang to you and your wife, of course she was your fiancee then. I'm definitely buying that record.

Mrs. Guarnere, if it wouldn't be too much trouble, would you please autograph my record album after I buy it?"

"I'd be happy to sign it." She gave him the telephone number of the receptionist at the radio station and asked him,

"Would you please call this number after you get the record? I'll get a message from the receptionist and I promise to come back here to sign your album."

The salesman thanked Leigh and he rang up the item on the cash register, thanking Bill for his purchase. Guarnere carried their new record player and radio in its sturdy cardboard box to their car.

"Baby, you got a fan wantin' your autograph an' the album ain't even for sale. Ya can't blame me for feelin' proud."

"It's nice that the salesman enjoyed the radio broadcast from Paris. I was surprised the he wants me to sign the album for him. I thought that he was going to ask me if I could get the Andrews Sisters to autograph the album for him."

After Bill loaded the box into the trunk of their car, he kissed Leigh before opening the car door for her,

"I'm still gonna be your biggest fan, no matter how many albums are sold." Leigh had a mischievous glint in her eyes,

"That's a good thing, Honey. I plan to reward my biggest fan in the bedroom." Guarnere chuckled,

"You're somethin' else, ya little fireball. Does this mean that I have to buy all the records or will ya reward me wit'out spendin' all o' our money on records?"

"No purchase is necessary, you handsome smart ass. I'm all yours." Before he started the car and drove home, he told her,

"I like the sound o' that, Baby."

A few days after the record player was purchased, Leigh once again received a call from one of the Andrews Sisters while she was at work. Maxene Andrews told her that a concert was being planned at Madison Square Garden a few weeks before the album went on sale. Andrews asked,

"Is it possible for you to do this show with us? We're doing many of the same songs that were in the Paris concert. Since you're going to be on the album, it stands to reason that you should be in the show, too." Leigh excitedly confirmed that she would love to be in the show.

Andrews asked if Leigh would once again wear the red velvet and lace dress again. Their costume designer thought that the red dress looked perfect for the upcoming show since the Paris concert was basically being re-created. The dress was currently in storage along with the sisters' trademark uniforms.

"I'd love to wear that beautiful dress again." She was happily surprised when Maxene told her,

"Leigh, we're going all out. If your husband would agree to join us again onstage, we would like to rent a top quality tuxedo and dress shoes for him." Leigh smiled, imagining Bill's reaction to the news.

"That sounds wonderful! I think we already know Bill's answer to your question." She gave Andrews the correct sizes for the trousers, shirt and the tuxedo coat, plus Bill's shoe size, adding, "My husband will be very eager to be onstage with his favorite group." Leigh laughed,

You might hear my mother-in-law's excited response when I tell her the good news. Mama tends to get loud when she's excited or happy about something."

"We would be glad to meet with your parents, in-laws and other family members after the show is over." Before the women ended their conversation, Leigh told her,

"I'm sure everyone will be excited to meet you and your sisters. My mother-in-law and the others are big fans of you and your sisters' singing." Predictably, Guarnere was excited about the show and he liked the idea of wearing the tuxedo onstage.

"They're payin' good money to make me look like a sharp dressin' man. Not only do we get to sorta relive the Paris show, I get to join my beautiful wife onstage an' be there wit' my favorite group." Leigh told him the rest of the good news about the show,

"Honey, they're reserving the best seats in the house for our families, plus they are paying to send us, our parents, Teresa, your other sisters and their husbands and their kids plus my grandparents, to a very nice hotel in New York City. They're providing limousine service for all of us, too." Bill grinned,

"We're all goin' in style.

Lacey Davis, who was living in New York City, was scanning the staple publication of the entertainment industry, "Variety." An ad mentioned that the famed trio's Paris concert featuring the star of the Philadelphia CBS affiliate would soon be sold in record stores. Davis then read a paragraph about the Andrews Sisters and Leigh appearing in a concert at Madison Square Garden to kick off the release of the record.

She angrily threw the magazine into a nearby trash can. Lacey still felt that Leigh had cheated her out of the recognition and fame that should have been hers. Davis was still working on regaining her figure after giving birth to a son. The baby was adopted by a childless couple in the borough of Queens.

The night of the show, family members and friends of Leigh thoroughly enjoyed the V.I.P. treatment of staying in a nice hotel and riding to Madison Square Garden in limousines. Gina Ricci traveled with the Spencers and had a room reserved at the hotel.

It was the first time some of the Guarnere family, Leigh, her parents and her maternal grandparents visited New York City. Leigh told her grandmother, Mary Elliott,

"I thought that Philadelphia was a large city. This is overwhelming." Mary agreed that the size of the city seemed daunting. She and her husband, John were enjoying spending time with their granddaughter and Bill. Both of the Elliotts adored Guarnere. They thought of him as their grandson by marriage.

The Elliotts met Bill when they traveled to Philadelphia for his wedding to Leigh. Mary was instantly taken with his polite behavior. John admired Bill's courage and compassion.

Guarnere's parents thanked John and Mary for the fresh beef that was delivered in a railroad car for frozen food. Mary and Augusta became friends very quickly. Despite the fact that Mrs. Guarnere was the same age as Louise Spencer, both women were alike in many ways. They loved their families and they also loved to prepare food for their families.

Since they experienced dire economic conditions when they were much younger, Augusta and Mary knew all too well about occasionally not having enough to eat. This made them determined to ensure that every visitor to their homes would never leave with an empty stomach.

The Guarneres, the Spencers, other family members and Gina Ricci took up a large section of the first row of seats closest to the stage. Everyone wore their best clothes and Bill was gently teased by his sisters for "lookin' like a high society fella" in his tuxedo.

Augusta knew in advance that Bill would go onstage with Leigh and the famous trio of sisters. She was proud and very eager to see her son in the spotlight. Prior to the show, Bill had a corsage of white Sweetheart Roses delivered to his wife. She pinned them on the red velvet dress covered in red lace. Leigh enjoyed the message Guarnere wrote on the card enclosed with the corsage,

"My beautiful bride will be a star tonight. Love, Bill."

The sisters and Leigh performed the same songs that would appear on the album of the Paris concert. Her grandparents were in

awe of her singing. They hadn't witnessed Leigh performing in front of a large audience and they were amazed at the way she seemed to own the stage. When Bill was asked to join the group onstage, Augusta was clearly heard as she loudly exclaimed,

"That's my son! 'atta boy, Billy!" A photographer from The New York Times took several pictures of Bill, Leigh and the Andrews Sisters. When the sisters announced,

"We're doing this next number for the newlyweds, who were married in June." Bill once again gently pulled Leigh onto his lap as the sisters sang, "In Apple Blossom Time." Augusta used her lace edged handkerchief as she wiped away tears of joy, telling her husband in his native language,

"It's so sweet and beautiful." Mr. Guarnere agreed. Bill gave his wife a tender kiss before he left the stage. He was grinning and wiping her red lipstick from his lips with his handkerchief as he walked back to his seat.

The next song was a new number called "Strip Polka," about a burlesque performer who "stops (stripping) and always just in time." Patty Andrews usually performed a comedic routine during an instrumental part of the song.

She asked Leigh if she would try the comedic routine since her family was in the audience. Leigh happily agreed to learn the routine. During the instrumental section, the music suggested the 'bump and grind' burlesque style. At first, Leigh stood at the microphone.

As the music played, she got into the spirit of the music and put both hands on top of her head, doing a comical, exaggerated swaying of her hips. Then, she realized that the sisters were looking at her with raised eyebrows and questioning expressions on their faces.

Leigh looked embarrassed at being caught up in the music and immediately stood up straight, looking very proper as the audience laughed and applauded. Bill was smiling and applauding, loudly saying,

"Ain't nothin' my baby can't do!" The photographer from The New York Times made sure that Leigh's performance was documented on film. Once again, the audience gave her a standing ovation at the end of the concert. This was also photographed for the city's leading newspaper.

As promised, after the concert was over, the sisters signed autographs and posed for pictures taken by Leigh's extended family and friends. Augusta and Joseph posed with the sisters for a picture that would be prominently displayed in their home.

The next day, Lacey Davis saw the pictures and the reviews about the concert. She looked wistfully at the pictures of Bill wearing a tuxedo, thinking,

"He looks so damn handsome, even if he only has one leg. I'd change my mind about not liking crippled men if I could have one night with him. What the hell does he see in Leigh?" She was almost nauseated at the way the reviewer of the concert seemed to gush over her former singing partner's performance.

Bill asked the reporter to send copies of the pictures and the story in the newspaper. The news writer obliged and sent enough pictures for most of the immediate family members plus Bill and Leigh. He also sent enough copies of the paper for everyone in the family, the friends of the family, and the newlyweds.

Four months later, after regaining her figure, Davis took a job as a receptionist in a music producer's office. She planned to save her money so she could eventually move to California, specifically Hollywood.

Lacey hoped to begin her career in show business as a dancer in movies. She thought that living far from newspaper coverage of Leigh's performances would be healthier for her than seething as she read a review or saw a picture of the woman she perceived as her rival.

A few days later, Grayson O'Brian heard the guard who occupied the office close to his prison cell talking excitedly with another prison guard about his favorite radio performer, Leigh Guarnere.

The guard told his friend that the CBS radio star's performance with the Andrews Sisters would be made into an upcoming record album. Gray fervently hoped that the guard wouldn't be allowed to play records in his office. O'Brian thought that he heard enough of Leigh's singing on the radio without having to hear her on a record.

As promised, Bill and Leigh were sent a complimentary copy of the upcoming album. Guarnere eagerly played the album on the new record player. He and Leigh cuddled together on the couch as they listened and reminisced about the night their engagement was announced during the broadcast. Leigh was taken aback at the way she sounded on the record. She asked Bill,

"Honey, did I really sound like that or did they somehow enhance my voice?"

"That's exactly how ya sounded, Baby. You done the best singin' I'd ever heard that night. Leigh, you owned that stage an' that audience." She kissed him, I

"Flattery will get you everywhere with me." When the audience began to applaud for Leigh and the standing ovation took place, Bill was happy to see that his wife had a beaming smile as she relived the event.

"That's when ya owned the stage, Baby. I'm still goddamned proud o' ya." When the records went on sale, the fans of Leigh's radio program bought several copies. Those who knew Leigh in the neighborhood asked for and received autographs on their albums.

The CBS radio station in Philadelphia sponsored a meet and greet session in a local hotel for fans of the various radio shows. Leigh signed several albums and met fans during the event that was advertised in the newspaper as "A Luncheon With Leigh."

Bill asked for and received a few hours off from work to attend the event with his parents. Cal and Louise Spencer took a train to Philadelphia and they were seated with Bill, Augusta and Joseph Guarnere in the audience. Teresa, Julia and Maria were unable to get time off from work and they were disappointed to miss the event.

Bill, the Guarneres and the Spencers were both happy and proud when Leigh asked them to stand up while the audience applauded for them.

She and Bill replaced Augusta's and Joseph's record player when it died of old age one month after the luncheon event sponsored by the CBS affiliate in Philadelphia. The elder Guarneres frequently played the album. Their son favored the album over other albums owned by himself and Leigh.

The release didn't make Leigh an overnight star as Bill had hoped, but the national sales provided enough money to cover hospital and living expenses for more than one baby. A small amount of the money was saved to purchase their home or possibly another house in the same neighborhood.

@belladonnange @bellewintersroe @lizziebitch33 @marycorleone @alluringmoonlightbabe @cagzzz107 @f1-and-shiz @havaneselover08 @stinkyrat09 @theretroloverofmusic @bookfansworld @breadsprinkles1q

[paperstorm]

Answer those character questions for Magnetic North tarlos!! (if you want ofc)

What is the character’s go-to drink order? TK is highly caffeinated at all times and likes the fancy coffee drinks. The kind that have like 8 words in their title. Carlos likes more simple things, like black coffee and diet coke. He likes red wine, but drinks it less since falling in love with TK.

What is their grooming routine? TK has a devoted skincare regimen. He is Owen's kid after all lol. Carlos is more of a typical man about it, but TK rubs off on him and he starts using moisturizer at least.

What was their most expensive purchase/where does their disposable income go? They have a lot of disposable income, top NHLers make a lot of money, but tbh I don't feel like either of them are too extravagant about anything. They both live in apartments that are a lot nicer than what most people could afford, but not nearly as nice as they could afford. Carlos is a financial planner, he has investments and an accountant and has hopes of taking kids to Disney World one day. TK has no idea how much money is in his bank account at any given time but he doesn't buy a lot of unnecessary stuff because it doesn't make him happy.

Do they have any scars or tattoos? They both definitely have scars, hockey players always do. Especially TK, with his fighting. He's got scars on every knuckle. I also gave him some of Ronen's tattoos in this fic, the flower and the bee and the butterflies. Carlos does not have any tattoos. Andrea would faint.

What was the last time they cried, and under what circumstances? God didn't they both cry in the last chapter LOL. Carlos is more of a crier than TK. He gets misty about romantic movies and cute animal videos and babies laughing and sentimental Christmas commercials. TK hates crying, but does it more than he'd like because he's had a lot of things to cry about.

Are they an oldest, middle, youngest or only child? Carlos is an only child (and has a ton of pressure on him because of it). Jonah exists in this universe, so TK was an only child for most of his life but now has a 2 year old brother.

Describe the shoes they’re wearing. Carlos is not super stylish. He's an athlete, 99% of the time he's in sneakers. TK has more of a sense of fashion, he likes Converse and boots and nice leather dress shoes.

Describe the place where they sleep. TK's apartment is very impersonal. He's moved around so much, he's never bothered to collect a lot of personal mementos because he would just have to cart them from city to city. He has a really good mattress and a warm quilt but few personal touches. Carlos doesn't like clutter, so his place looks a little bit impersonal at first glance, but there are pictures in frames and he could tell you exactly when and where he purchased each piece of furniture and who was with him when he did (usually his mom or Nancy.) He has the puck that he scored his first ever NHL goal with in a glass box on his bookshelf.

What is their favorite holiday? Definitely Christmas/Hannukah. Carlos loves his family so much. In recent years TK doesn't like Hannukah as much as he used to, because his mom is gone and it was their special time. But next year, Carlos is gonna make it special again.

What objects do they always carry around with them? TK always has lip balm, and usually has a lighter even though he doesn't smoke. He flicks the flame on sometimes, as a nervous tick. Carlos wears a cross necklace, even thought he's struggled with his faith over the years, because his mom gave it to him when he turned 10 and he can't get rid of it.

[hadescrow333]

As this is my first post, I find it appropriate to start off withe the beginning of creation (accourding to Greek mythology of course)

This portion of the myth will not be dedicated to the gods singular, those will be later posts where each god/titan/etc gets their own post

There are many different stories contradicting eachother, so I’ll try my best to either explain each one or just go withe the one that’s most popular

In the beginning of creation there was only khaos, whom was a great void of nothingness (so very chaotic right?). Then suddenly pop came Gaia, who’s basically Mother Nature earth peep, Tartarus, the deepest pits of the underworld (I love this word TaRtArUs), Eros (but honestly I think it means the personification of love instead of EROS EROS because most versions state Eros is Aphrodite’s child), then Erebus, Darkness (and an amazing name to name a cat), and Nyx, the night (another great cat name) (also the only peep Zeus fears, which I think is pretty cool)

So Gaia (without the help of male productivity) then gave birth to Uranus, who is the sky and I will call Ouranos because that is what I was taught when learning Greek mythology (books my peeps)

Though some accounts state that Gaia and Ouranos were both made from Chaos instead of Gaia birthing him.

Oh and cool little fact, the sky was thought to be a brass dome by the Greeks, and Ouranos was the personification to that brass dome. Brass you may ask? Why brass? Why so specific? That’s the same question I thought to myself, and therefore searched for the answer and actually there was a reason for this. The Greeks did not think of colour in colour, but in scales of brightness. And I guess the Greek thought the sky was shiny, like brass. (Think of that one piece of work where the ocean was deemed wine dark)

Oh I also should probably add that the family history includes Erebus overthrowing Chaos, and then Erebus being overthrown by his children, but that’s a long story I’ll dedicate to another post)

Gaia and Ouranos then became a thAng, and I could go all poetic about how oh the sky and the earth were bound for loneliness so against the odds given to them they became one together, but no I’m not going to because I’m such a good poet. I digress.

Oh and my dude Ouranos decided it would be cool to decree himself supreme deity, cool cool my(😬) dude.

Anyways, Gaia and Ouranos hit it off and had some premeditated children. (Yes. This wording is purposeful. No. I will not explain.)

Now to go into the kids of Ouranos, yay..

(There is no foreshadowing here folks!)

So Ouranos sired children withe Gaia, the first set being six sons. Three Cyclops (one eyed peeps), there names being Brontes, Arges, aand Steropes. And three (insert me staring at the google search of how to spell this) Hecatonchires, named Briares, Cottus, and Gyges. They were dubbed the One Hundred Handed Ones(I’m pretty sure if you’ve read Percy Jackson Briares is in a part of it(?))

Well, Ouranos was awfully concerned about how powerful these giants are, so he locked them away. There is some debate about where he locked them up, but it’s widely believed he locked them in the deepest pits of Tartarus.

Gaias, as most mothers would, did not quite agree withe this, and wasn’t all too happy withe him. This is fine, nothing is bound to happen right? (…)

Oh little fun fact about myself, while doing this I had my big ole mythology book that I love and have no recollection of getting (I just found out I stole it from my father, and he’s never getting it back), but do know it is a good flower press. And very informative (which is good because it’s huge and has a very decient portion that is deticated to Greek myths yay) My delicate dried flowers are falling (I mean, sorta, I would never actually let them fall but they are taking damage and potential destruction so it COUNTS) as I type this out, know I have sacrificed greatly to bid thee information I already know and honestly only need the book for spelling (yes I am proud of my useless knowledge of Greek myths) I DIGRESS.

So as this is happening (or maybe after, it doesn’t directly state, only specifically states that the giants were first created before the titans) Gaia also birthed the 12 Titans. Who are Oceanus, Tethys, Hyperion, Theia, Coeus, Phoebe, Kronos, Rhea, krios, Japetus, Themis, and Mnemosyne.

So Oceanus was the titan god of the great oceanic river that forever circles the world. (I. WILL. EXPLAIN. In another post this is getting long and I’m not even halfway done) His wife is his sister Tethys (if you don’t like it go away because you definitely won’t like Greek mythology, oh and they practically don’t have the same DNA or morals as us sooo)

Hyperion was the first sun god, and his sister Theia was his wife.

(You do not know how hard it is to not digress and spill facts and stories BECAUSE THERES SO MUCH THAT ISNT SAID ON HERE the only thing saving me is that I have other posts I can rant about them on)

Coeus, who isn’t very important other then his offsprings tales, wived his sister Phoebe.

Kronos, the youngest of the bunch, married to Rhea, who was the titan of motherhood, and other foreshadowing things.

Ok this is getting long the rest of them are Krios, Japetus, Themis (goddess of justice), and Mnemosyne (goddess of memory)

So let’s get back to Gaia, as I said before she was livid at Ouranos for ya know yeeting her giant children to the great pits of Tartarus, and then imprisoning her titan children in her womb, so she took her titan children and was all like “oh my dear lovelys please go kill your father for me?” And then committed one of the most famous divorces in all of mythology.

Gaia created flint to make a sickle, then once done making it she told one of her titan children to murder their father withe it. I like to guess all of them looked at her in bafflement, for none of them took the sickle from her offered hand, except for one. (Insert mic drop)

Kronos, youngest and seemingly weakest decided he was worthy and took the sickle.

Then they conspired a plan, the plan being several versions. The main version being; for Kronos to strike once Ouranos and Gaia are settled down to lay, and the some of the other titans holding him down (another post my friends another post). So this is what Kronos did.

Once Ouranos was laying down withe Gaia, Kronos went boo, and castrated Ouranos withe the sickle. He then threw the genitals into the ocean (where Aphrodite was created by the sea foam where the genitals fell, later on but that’s a story for another post) From his blood giants popped up, as well as the Erinyes, furies who tormented the criminal minds later on when humans were a thing, and ash tree nymphs.

It’s not stated clear what exactly happened to Ouranos, some versions state that he died, that he withdrew from the earth, or that he exiled himself to Italy. (Yes. Italy. Very specific right? And there. Is. No. Elaboration.) All that’s known is that as he deported he said the Kronos “you shall be punished” (very original)

Yup ok that’s all I’ll do the gods and that age later byeee

[almostdarkcloud]

I'm avoiding school work so I'll take this very seriously.

Okay I'm taking this as: the item I choose will cease to exist instead of just eliminating it from my personal diet cause that's more interesting ofc

so I'm choosing the one I would eliminate from earth. obviously taking into account that there's people that enjoy every single one of these.

now if it disappears forever I'll focus on the ones that have other varieties, so there's still some left.

That takes lettuce, spinach, broccoli, avocados, limes, peas and green beans off of the list. since it seems like it eliminates every single kind.

that leaves green apples, green grapes and green bell peppers to choose from.

Now I didn't mention cucumbers and pickles because they represent a very interesting problem.

The implication is a little confusing, since pickles are just cucumbers that have been pickled.

Now there's other things you could pickle, like onions, radishes, peppers, etc. so would it get rid of all of those as well? or just the cucumber variety?

If it is just the cucumber variety. If we choose cucumber to get rid of, that would also eliminate pickles as well

but if we choose pickles instead: would that mean that cucumbers could no longer be pickled? what about other things? could they be pickled? or is this some sort of situation where you have cucumbers but as soon as you try to pickle them they disappear or dissolve or something?

idk, so those two im just leaving alone since it is taking a risk to choose either.

going back to green grapes, apples, and bell peppers.

there's is a big difference between bell peppers and the other two:

when it comes to bell pepper colors, there are all the same fruit just at different ripeness.

so that again brings up interesting implications since the first color they go through is green (followed by yellow and red): would it get rid of all bell peppers? would it alter them in a way in which they skip the green stage and start from yellow?

again it's not clear and i don't want to take the risk that it would eliminate all of them.

remember the goal here for me is to choose the one I think would be less of an impact if it were to disappear.

so that leaves green apples and green grapes.

from these two I think it's just a matter of taste since if we get rid of either there is still so many varieties left for people to enjoy

so the question is which I personally think is more valuable.

This is an easy answer

on one hand, green apples are popular for being slightly healthier than yellow or red

on the other hand, green grapes make white wine and I am not depriving the entire world of white wine forever.

I choose green apples.

TLDR: green apples can disappear for all I care

[kiissme]

@seducteurs​​, — oliver

      in what oliver was considering to be his quarter life crisis, he felt as though all the years he’s spent on this earth thus far had amounted to nothing. he’d been working as a copywriter for years since graduating top of his class with a degree in liberal arts, but the longer he sat behind his computer screen and spewed work for a voice that was not his own, the less invested in his own future he became. he’d never imagined himself here, though. growing up with a scottish mother and a sicilian father, religion was always something that lingered in his household though the young creative never thought much about it. he’d just ooh and ahh at the trinkets his father would bring home from the motherland, bits and bobs and even at one point, a rosary said to have been touched to the last known piece of the cross jesus himself was crucified to. surely as a child this seemed massive to him, but the novelty of it all wore off when the soft spot on his head began to form up and he was able to see it all through a much larger lens than the one his parents curated for him. 

      why religion, then, if it was now seen to the writer as fallacies from generations past simply looking for something to believe in? that was exactly it. he could make nice and wear the cassok robes with his little clerical collar and bow his head during sermons and tell those who instill their faith and trust in him to reroute it to the big guy in the sky, but oliver’s real interest lied within watching people fall to their knees all because they believed in something so wholly. his mode of thinking was maybe if he’d spend a year or two doing this, either he’d learn to believe in himself and his talents or maybe it’d all make for a good tell-all. i spent two years in a scottish monastery and all i got was this stupid collar. 

      something he hadn’t accounted for was the actual attendees of the church wanting to welcome the new young, american priest into the communities and in this case - their homes. he didn’t know what to expect from the dinner but he could lead a prayer over a roast dinner and some red wine, spouting off the same three tales from the bible he’s sure anyone in the city of glasgow could recite at this point. nerves all but simmer when the room he was hoping was the bathroom was occupied by who only assumed could be shiela’s daughter that she’d mentioned was visiting. despite being surrounded by the accent all day, he found it interesting the way the rugged tone seemed to stop there, not at all matching the redhead who stood before him. a few beats pass as if to listen for any other movement in the house before he’s settling his frame further into the room, watching as a plume of smoke nearly dances from the window along with the chilly winter breeze. “i’d actually love a drag, if you could spare it.” he says finally, aware that it was a frowned upon habit that he missed sorely. “and it’s not exactly allowed. sort of a hush-hush thing if you choose to indulge.” he answers her question before finally closing the door behind him. “i take it you’re faye? your mother has told me a lot about you. she seems really excited that you’re here. i’m oliver.” a hand extends to meet hers in a shake. 

          American? That was...kind of funny in her mind. Wasn’t what she was expecting, far from it, Irish, perhaps, he had the dark hair coloring of an Irishman, but American? Jesus wept. Though she had made the offer, she didn’t quite expect him to take her up on it. Faye was looking more for a bit of shock, offense, something to tickle and amuse herself with. But he was rather calm about it, even meeting her tone. That was...different. This was...disappointing. If she couldn’t shock a priest, what was the damn point? She wouldn’t give up, though, stubborn to a fault. “I thought your lot gave up on indulgences, though,” she started, digging into her bag near her, the pack of cigarettes taken out. “Won’t that, uh, put you down a few points with...” Her words trailing off, pointing the cigarette she pulled out for him upwards, pretty sure she didn’t have to go out and say it completely. Clearly they both knew who they were talking about. Giving a shrug, she added, “That’s what the nuns in school told me, anyway. Or rather... Any indulgence that would give you absolute pleasure will surely send you down the path to eternal flames and damnation. Cheerful lot,” she ended with a raised brow, partaking in her cigarette once again, just past the halfway mark, blowing the smoke out the window once again.

          She didn’t hand it to him just yet, keeping the unlit one in her other hand, but she moved further along the wall, giving him room to sit and join in the sneaky smoke out the window action if he so desired. A chuckle rolling forth, giving a confirming nod, “Aye, yeah, that’s me. Well, I’m the only child, so, had to be.” A little bit of a sigh escaping her, “Though, if my ma was talkin’ to you ‘bout me... I’m guessin’ it’s more of the fact that I’m terminally single and probably lookin’ to get shacked up with a nice Catholic...” Her words paused just a bit, looking at him with a slight smirk on her face, “...Scottish man, well to do, will take care of me while I can still give ‘im lots and lots of Scottish babies and the whole lot...” Pointing toward him, “I’m guessin’ you or your church rather is havin’ some like, I dunno, mixer or somethin’ that you’ll talk my ear off and persuade me to attend. That’s my guess, but if I’ve got it wrong...” She shrugged, “I dunno, but that seems to be her focus ‘bout me these days. She mention I’m a journalist? I’m quite good.”

          Faye and Sheila Brookes always had quite the complicated relationship. Volatile at times, mainly just frustrating, though she knew her mother worked from a place of love, it was just always...misplaced. “Anyway, nice to meet you, Oliver. So... How long has the Scottish monastery like... Just accepted Americans within their flock?” A laugh escaping her, shaking her head, “Sorry, thought I could get past it, but, hearin’ you talk... It’s not bad, it’s just... How does that work, like... Were you already livin’ here when you decided to become a priest, heard your callin’, whatever it is or... I don’t understand. Like I said, I’m a journalist, I ask to know things, so...” Gesturing toward him, a laugh escaping her, “Like.... How?” Her mind went back to the cigarette in both her hands, one lit, halfway done and christened by her lips — and the other unlit, void of the taste of her mouth. She put forward the unlit one, then held it back. “You said you wanted a drag... Were you lookin’ to have one all your own or just...” Holding up her lit one, offering it as well, “Just one puff to ease the need to indulge? Your pick, doubt I can deny a holy man of anythin’, surely against the rules.”

[thewayshedreamed]

Nessian prompt:

We’re playing truth or dare and I just got dared to sit on your lap for the next two rounds but now I’m sitting on your hard-on and I’m kinda getting turned on cuz the ✨positioning✨. We’re both tryna fix the situation without drawing attention to us but the fidgeting definitely isn’t helping 👀

Thanks for the prompt, Bby! I know you sent it as part of my follower celebration, but it worked so well for @nessianweek Day 4: Rivalry that I couldn't pass it up.

Enjoy!

Warnings for strong language and mature themes. Slightly nsfw.

--

Nesta didn't know the last time she played Truth or Dare. She thought those days had left her at some point during undergrad, but apparently not. There she was, her last semester of graduate school, somewhat invested in a round of the game. The group had been playing for almost an hour, the drinks they poured becoming more and more stout as the night went on.

Gwyn and Emerie had convinced her to join them for a night out with the others, and to be fair, it had been quite some time since she'd allowed herself a carefree night out. Her sisters and Mor were there, as well as Rhys, Azriel, Cassian, and Lucien. Amren mentioned she would "see how things went", which meant she and Varian were staying in to fulfill their own agenda. There was no doubt that was for the best since their activities would likely scar them all.

It was Mor's turn, and her mischievous smile turned on her girlfriend. "Truth or Dare, Em?"

Emerie considered it for a moment, making a show of staring at the ceiling. One of the guys made a sound similar to a ticking clock, but she paid them no mind.

"Truth."

"Okay," Mor drawled, taking a long sip of wine. "Fuck, Marry, Kill; for Rhys, Azriel, Cassian."

Emerie's eyes grew wide, snapping to Feyre and back to Mor. Nesta dared to chuckle at her friend's tight position, earning a pointed glare reserved for the worst of traitors.

"Don't hesitate on my account," Feyre giggled, resting her head on Rhys' shoulder. "I'm curious."

"That's not a fair one!" Emerie argued, gesturing with her hands. "The answer is none of the above, on all counts. For more than one reason."

The three men had the audacity to look miffed at her rejection, even though none of them had any interest in Emerie. They'd all known each other too long for any blurred lines. Mor leaned heavily against her, a look of apology in her rounded, brown eyes.

"Fair enough," she conceded, pressing a kiss to Emerie's cheek.

"That's not how it works!" Cassian challenged. It was unclear whether his ego or strict principles motivated his outburst.

Nesta fought the urge to roll her eyes, to rise to the challenge in his voice like she usually did. But Emerie was her friend, and she wasn't going to take him pushing her lying down. The words left her with more snark than usual.

"Oh, would you come off it?"

His eyes snapped in her direction, locking in on her face like a predator circling prey. "Let me guess. You have an opinion."

Nesta's blood boiled, despite the fact that she told herself Cassian wouldn't get under her skin the next time they were around each other. She was 0 for... hundreds at that point.

"She answered it truthfully, so I don't see the problem."

"It's the way the question was framed, though. It's a game within the question. There were three options. 'None of the above' wasn't one of them."

Nesta loosened the reins on her eye rolling. Cassian was good for that. "No one made that rule."

"Sweetheart, the rules are pretty clear. But if you want to make sure they stay nice and loose so you can back out later, I get that."

Emerie cleared her throat, eager to redirect his challenge before the two of them escalated. "Show us how it's done, then. Truth or Dare, Cassian?"

His attention lingered on Nesta a moment longer, a familiar glint in his eyes. Her blood heated for an entirely different reason, and she was sure to berate it for doing so.

"Dare."

"I dare you to kiss Azriel," she said, grinning around the rim of her glass. "On the mouth."

Azriel pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, resigned to his fate. He knew Cassian better than anyone, and it was only a matter of time.

Without hesitation, Cassian said, "Oh, done. Tongue?"

A chorus of laughter drowned out Azriel incredulous curse in Cassian's direction. When she finally recovered, Emerie took mercy on Azriel and excused any tongue. Cassian didn't hesitate to lean toward Azriel, cupping him roughly by the back of the neck and planting a full kiss to his mouth. There were catcalls all around; not at all needed in the encouragement department.

Azriel turned his attention to Feyre, fully succumbing to his soft spot for her and letting her off on the easiest Truth ever. It was something to do with who she would most like to draw or paint of the lot of them, excluding Rhys. No surprises on her choice of Azriel himself, but to his credit, he didn’t preen at the compliment. He humbly nodded as if anyone alive wouldn’t want to catch those angles on canvas.

“Nesta,” Feyre called, interrupting another quip she had been prepared to launch Cassian’s way. She couldn’t remember why. “Truth or Dare?”

She took a long pull of her drink and licked her bottom lip. “Dare.”

“Hmm,” Feyre considered, and Nesta had to admit to being slightly terrified of how diabolical sibling could be in a game such as the one she played. It didn’t take long for her to realize she’d been right to feel that way. “I think you two need to learn to get along. I dare you to sit on Cass' lap. Minimum of two full turns.”

Nesta’s nostrils flared. Cassian’s red hot challenge bore a hole into the side of her head, and all she could hear was his taunt from before.

Sweetheart, the rules are pretty clear. But if you want to make sure they stay nice and loose so you can back out later, I get that.

She snapped her attention to his face, suppressing the urge to throttle him for the narrow-eyed smirk he offered. Angling his large body backward, he draped a muscled arm across the back of the couch and eased his thighs open. Cassian wouldn't be the one to back down, she realized.

"Fine." Nesta threw back the rest of her drink and set it roughly on the nearby table.

Cassian's eyes were sparkling, his smile feline. He tapped his thigh with his free hand to goad her, and she wondered if he— if they— would ever tire of the constant challenges. Nesta sauntered over and dropped heavily into the center of his lap, earning a loud oof.

"Fuck, Sweetheart," he fussed, gripped her waist in his large hands to rearrange their position.

The heat of his hands, the scrape of his calluses; they came together to monopolize her focus. She was almost sure that others were amused by their display, but her world was singularly focused.

Cassian cleared his throat while he eased her into a position that better balanced her weight. The tension eased from her thighs as she settled, only for him to shift her again. Nesta let out an exaggerated sigh at his constant fidgeting. The only silver lining to the near motion sickness she'd no doubt endure as a result was the steadiness of his grip against her.

The reason for all his maneuvering revealed itself seconds later. Nesta had been initially impressed with the muscle tone in his thighs, how firm the muscles felt beneath her. They were nothing in comparison to the very obvious hardness pressing against the swell of her ass.

Animated conversation continued around them, and Nesta took the opportunity to turn and offer an accusatory glare. He hissed against the pressure of her movement, sending her eyebrows into her hairline.

"Are you really h—"

"Shh!" Cassian ordered, clamping a hand over her mouth. "Can you not announce that shit to the entire room?"

Nesta blinked incredulously and dragged her tongue against his palm. He grimaced, rubbing his palm against his jeans as if she'd poured acid onto his skin.

"It's not my fault you can't... control that," she hissed.

"Well, shit, Nesta. When's the last time you had a beautiful woman on your lap and had to keep your boner in check?" His whisper was low, frantic. There were words that latched onto her nerves and left goosebumps in their wake, even when she barely heard them.

"It's only two turns," she managed, swallowing against the dryness in her throat. "Then, it'll be a non-issue."

Cassian's hands clung to her hips once more, the delicious grip of them even firmer than before. "You can't get up now; not in front of them." He gestured with a jerk of his chin to the rest of the room. "They're savages."

A laugh bubbled out of Nesta's chest, and surprisingly, it was more due to the unlikely alliance forged by biology than her pleasure in his panic. The irony wasn't lost on her, but she didn't get to dwell on it for long before Cassian started strategizing.

"We're supposed to get along, right?" He paused, waiting for the excessive noise level to settle around them. Someone must have performed a solid dare, and Nesta was mildly concerned that it hadn't managed to be a blip on their radar. "You're gonna have to keep fighting with me."

A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. "To be clear, you want me to argue with you so that we can hide this?" She rocked back into him for emphasis, and a pained sound left him. Nesta was grateful for the small silver lining that was her private arousal, otherwise she and Cassian would be in the same boat. The way his eyelids fluttered didn't help.

"I'm asking your for a small favor. When I get my shit together, you're free to go. I'm not exactly happy about it either."

Another smile teased her lips. "Small?"

"Mother's tits. Just turned around."

Nesta complied, if for no other reason than to hide the chuckle she'd been trying to choke down throughout the conversation. They engaged with the others as nonchalantly as possible, ignoring each other completely until opportunities arose to take opposing stances on anything at all. The rules of the game. Who brought the best drinks. If someone had successfully completed their dare or answered their question. Cassian had been correct in assuming the group would advocate for their continued canoodling since they weren't yet cooperating with one another.

"Nesta," he almost growled, sometime after a dozen turns of their faux discord. "This isn't helping."

She whipped around, noting the pained expression on his face. "Wait, is this working for you?"

Cassian squeezed his temples between his thumb and middle finger, looking as if he was in as much disbelief as her. The tragic part was that the arguing hadn't curbed her own body's reactions to him, either.

"That's what it looks like."

Nesta didn't cage it then, the full and melodic laughter that shook her shoulders and made her eyes water. He continued bracing his head in his hand while she delighted in his torture.

"That's awfully kinky of you."

"Alright, enough out of you," he grumbled, situating her for the hundredth time. "You have any better ideas?"

Tears pooled in her eyes, and she flicked them away. "I guess your only choice is to wait until the game ends, or someone causes enough commotion for you to adjust and take a break for a few minutes."

Cassian huffed, clearly unimpressed with her tactics.

"You'll just have to trust me, of all people, to keep your secret in the meantime," she stated, turning her attention back to the room.

His only response was a muttered curse before she felt his forehead drop between her shoulder blades.

[chainofclovers]

Ted Lasso 2x10 thoughts

GOOD GOD.

“No Weddings and a Funeral” is like being hungover but also coming out of a hangover. Having a terrible cold but also feeling better and appreciating every breath that comes through your nose. Embarking on an organizational project and accidentally falling into a photo album and crying about the pictures and organizing almost nothing tangible but making a few things more clear in your brain.

So much of this episode is about the AWFUL POINTLESSNESS OF DECORUM. How loud is too loud when you’re drinking stolen wine and shrieking about sex in a church right before your father’s funeral? How should you feel--thirty years later, as an accommodating, anger-averse person--about having been too angry to attend the funeral for your father who killed himself? What expression should you make when you show up really late to a different funeral? Why must you wear uncomfortable shoes just because someone died? What happens in your mind between standing up to give a eulogy for a man you’re still angry with and choosing to Rick Roll your mom and everyone else as an act of complicated love, humiliatingly incomplete until someone else starts to sing? Should you worry about your therapist seeing your normally tidy flat in a full-on state of depression mess? Is it okay to be offended that your boyfriend is so uncomfortable about death that he can’t stop making morbid jokes? Should you care about other people caring that you’re crunching an apple in church or squealing with joy to be reunited with a friend you’ve not seen in awhile? Are you obligated to explain your behavior if your kid doesn’t understand how you could stay with someone unfaithful? How far behind the counter should you sink when your [undefined relationship person]’s mother has just let you know she can see your dick through your underwear? Is a funeral reception an okay place to find a hookup? Is a funeral reception a decent spot for a break-up? Is a funeral reception a good time for a love confession when you know the person you’re confessing to is happy with someone else? And who do you make eye contact with when you can’t look directly at the person asking you if you’re okay when there’s so, so much about you she doesn’t know yet? Even if--for this tiny little moment within a vast swath of many okay and not-okay moments--you’re honest when you tell her that you are?

I fucking adored this episode because it answers all these questions very simply: Show up. Show up for yourself. Show up for your friends. Try not to harm yourself. Try not to harm your friends.

I love that this episode is about the messiness of adulthood and the things we bring with us from childhood and that it takes place partially in Rebecca’s childhood bedroom, and in Ted’s childhood memories. Dwelling in those places (whether physically or mentally) isn’t an automatic recipe for regression, but it does get everyone closer to the things that made them who they are, to the unresolved and half-buried parts of them that still make them tick today.

Forever obsessed with every single detail about Rebecca’s childhood bedroom.

Forever obsessed with Deborah’s decision to Rick Roll herself every single morning of her life.

Forever obsessed with Rebecca’s decision to Rick Roll her father’s funeral as a way to not have to make up a single word about her father and to do something very vulnerable and kind for herself and her mother and everyone.

Forever obsessed with Ted’s decision to Rick Roll Rebecca Rick Rolling her father’s funeral.

Forever obsessed with an entire found family backing it up.

I love that it is Isaac’s leadership that ensures every single member of the team attends the service for Paul.

I am very, very interested in Jamie’s love confession to Keeley because I do think it will spark some reflection in Keeley but I do not think it’ll go the cliched love triangle route.

Each scene with Rebecca and Sam struck (for me, a human being sharing a subjective perspective on the internet) the tender-awkward-beautiful-stressful chord I was hoping it would. I think it’s wonderful that Sam is honest with Rebecca about how difficult it is to keep their relationship a secret, and I love that Rebecca has a million mostly-unarticulated reasons for why she’d much prefer the secret to continue. I like that Sassy, Keeley, and Nora respond to the revelation as friends; they might be tempering their judgments in part because they’ve all gathered to bury Rebecca’s dad, but I don’t think their reactions would’ve been that different even on a happier occasion.

While there are a million and one different reasons why a continued relationship between Rebecca and Sam could cause serious ethical problems, I really love that when people share big news on this show, the people who care about them generally react by trying to see why the person is doing what they’re doing. Doesn’t mean they shouldn’t also hold each other accountable, but in my book it’s OK that Keeley’s first reaction was to feel happy that her friend is having some fun.

Also everyone has been making weird judgment calls this season, and this episode felt like a moment of real breakthroughs in terms of people telling the truth about things that happened to them and leaving themselves open to honest responses from others.

September 13, 1991. It’s so tenderly, beautifully, overwhelmingly meaningful that there’s still so much Ted and Rebecca don’t know about the things they have in common in these parallel lives they’re leading. The scene between Sarah Niles and Jason Sudeikis is so beautifully acted, and so is the scene between Hannah Waddingham and Harriet Walter. The way they intertwine to communicate that Ted and Rebecca basically lost the ability to trust their fathers simultaneously, from an ocean away? In the hands of lesser storytellers, it would feel too perfect a mirroring, but here it feels heartbreakingly imperfect. All the things they still don’t know. All the questions they try to ask each other. All the things they don’t dare ask yet. And then the storytellers are holding a candle up to all of it and letting the audience bask in the glow of this connection even if Ted and Rebecca can’t fully understand it yet.

I am so proud that Rebecca and Deborah were able to embark on the beginnings of a conversation about the ways Deborah and Paul’s relationship might have resembled or not resembled Rebecca and Rupert’s. It feels possible that they could get to a point where Rebecca truly internalizes her mother’s pride that she broke a cycle by leaving Rupert, and could maybe even understand why her mother made the choices she made. I love that in the final scene, they’re still relying on their old mother-daughter conversational patterns—the frustrations, the snippy shorthand, the passive-aggression. Mothers and daughters!

I am also proud that Ted—albeit via a joke about Sharon charging him for the house call—indicates that he understands the value of Sharon’s work. He’s changed a lot, all in realistic ways for someone who loves learning and really does want to meet people where they are and appreciate them. I’m very moved that instead of putting himself in a real harmful situation by showing up to the funeral on time at any cost, he did what he needed to do to take care of himself and accept care from someone else. And then Sharon’s suggestion that he think about things he loved about his father? And the way he’s able to share a positive memory of Rebecca’s own father at a time when she really needed it? Gosh.

Awkward, undecorous transition from 1991 to present-day incoming...but SASSY! She’s just, like, a whirling dervish of loyal friendship and not giving a fuck and penis size discussions and being casually, delightfully cruel to Rupert, who so deserves it. Rebecca was going on a real face journey when Sassy goes off with Ted at the end, and I’m sort of *eyes emoji* about all of that, but I continue to feel like Sassy is the most imperfectly wonderful friend-from-the-past kind of person and I love everything she and Nora get to do in this episode.

Keeley saying “That baby is whack” might be my favorite line in the episode? Maybe the whole show? Not really but really.

FUCK YOU, RUPERT. Bex and Diane, y’all are fine. And I truly feel for Nate...whatever scheme he’s getting suckered into. Whatever insecurity Rupert is preying on. I want Nate to go to therapy, too.

I feel like it was an unpopular opinion at the time, but I loved Rebecca’s 2x1 revelation about vulnerability and fear of getting hurt and needing to let someone love her. Sassy doesn’t always word things in the most nuanced way, but I think there’s a real possibility that she did ask Rebecca to really consider what it means to feel either safe or unsafe with a person but to know that in either circumstance, that person could end up causing her pain. Standing in that closet with Sam, managing to make it clear that she’s not asking for a break because she knows he will hurt her but because she has to figure out how to be with a wonderful person who could cause her pain...the growth, man. Makes me emotional.

I emerged from this episode feeling, of course, stunned by all the amazing parallels and revelations and beautiful acting and Rick Rolls and just, everything. I also emerged feeling sad/raw/tender because messiness and decorum and growth and coping mechanisms and death and dramatic irony and not knowing things about people and not knowing what you don’t know...it’s a sad, raw, tender place to be.

To quote a guy who got a whole sitcom (lol) named after him, life is real hard.

[alrightberries]

honey, honey (how you thrill me)

request: i loved strawberries and cigarettes but levi just can’t catch a break :(( can we have a super fluffy modern au with boyfriend levi instead? thanks!

request: hi i’m new here and had read your fics. i love your take on levi’s character! Also that your writing is very great to read!😘 (tho that angst really made me cry HARD) if i may request umm... i want a levi x reader fic about them being like an old married couple but they’re not in a relationship ‘yet’ so like everyone ships them. Its a fluffy crack fic/ Reader is like “well you’re clean and I kinda lilke you so...” then levi be like “you’re tolerable and knows how to properly clean.” and then they really ended up married. It’s like the easiest transition from friends to lovers that one day they just said lets get married we act like it anyway whats new 😂. I want fluffs and laughs! Aot is angsty enough we need fluffs with our favorite characters!!

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack.  ❈ word count: 4.6k

❈ summary: modern au. In which you and Levi are both professors at the same university, and are painfully unaware that all the students and other staff members have a bet that’s been going on for years now. What’s it about? When you’ll both finally confess to each other and just date already.

❈ trigger warnings: profanity. mentions of sex

a/n: made it gender neutral as per usual. this was really fun to write! makes me think about writing fluff more often (pffft sure)

Trost University was home to many brilliant minds. It was a prestigious school with an acceptance rate of 600 out of 4000 yearly applicants, and producing the finest students; those of which would almost always graduate with high honors before starting a successful career of their choosing.

Its professors, undoubtedly, were of the finest quality as well. They were professional, extremely skilled, and highly trained. It was a workforce full of almost over qualified educators excelling in their respective fields, with master and PhD certificates framed on cubicle walls being the norm in the faculty room.

Erwin himself was proud to be a professor here. He started working as a high school teacher when he was still studying for his master’s degree, shifting from high school teachings to college teachings as years passed by, before eventually getting recognized and offered a job seven years ago by the prestigious school.

His friends— a loving and longterm couple who, as far as he knew, were high school sweethearts and still going strong today— had joined him on this journey as well. He’d known them since they were in college, all studying different fields but aiming for the same career of teaching.

The three of them shared a strong bond; a bond built on study groups, mutual dislike for crappy teachers, and a certain love for education. They were there for him, and he was there for them. He especially disliked it, however, when their relationship went through rough patches. He didn’t like picking sides, and listening to the same story being told from two different perspectives almost always made him want to grab Y/N and Levi’s heads and bash them together for how dumb they were acting.

But despite the differences and occasional fights, he wouldn’t hesitate to say that he trusted them with his life.

So Erwin, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out why he was just now finding out that the power couple he knew and loved wasn’t even a couple at all.

“So, wait.” He speaks, trying to be heard over the crowded cafeteria chatter. “You’re telling me... they’re not a longterm couple?”

“They’re not.” Moblit confirms easily. “Apparently, they’re not even dating.”

“Or so they claim.” Hange interjects. “Y/N and Levi have actual matching rings. Literally— I asked Levi about it once and he said Y/N was his fiancé.”

“But not romantically.” Moblit quickly adds on. “I was there too, he said not romantically.”

“Why would Levi propose to someone he’s not romantically interested in, huh?!” She counters back, a little louder than the brown haired man’s volume.

“I don’t know! Citizenship? Money? Sex—“

“They’re in love! You know they’re in love, you’re just denying it because you want to get in Y/N’s pants.” She huffs. “And because you’re about to lose the bet.”

Erwin’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Bet? What bet?”

“Oh, you don’t know about the bet?” Hange asks. “It’s been going on for, like, five years now. The entire faculty’s in on it.” She begins to chow down on her soup, not offering more of an explanation. Moblit takes this as his cue to expand when he notices Erwin’s blank stare.

“Since you guys joined maybe... seven or so years ago? Everyone just assumed Y/N and Levi were a thing. Because of, y’know, the way they interact with each other. But then five years ago Hange and I asked them when their anniversary was so we could get them some wine, and both of them full on denied even being in a relationship.”

Hange nods, more than a spoonful of soup and a more than generous bite of bread in her mouth. “Yeah, but then I peaked at their faculty files—“

“Peaked at their faculty files?” Erwin murmurs, but he’s ignored.

“—and they have the same home address. They live together!”

“I can confirm that much, at least.” The blonde man answers thoughtfully. “They’ve been sharing a dorm since college but Y/N moved out at some point. They live together in Levi’s apartment now, though.”

“That doesn’t prove anything.” Says Moblit. “They could just be roommates and really good friends.”

“Well I’ll say!” Hange throws her hands in the air. “I caught Y/N sucking Levi’s dick at a party once. Must be one hell of a friendship they have, aye Moblit?”

Her elbow begins nudging the brunette beside her, and Erwin stares with amusement when Moblit starts getting irritated from the eccentric woman’s teasing.

“So what’s the wager?” Erwin asks.

The two professors stop their bickering and share an evil smile. Hange gestures for Erwin to come closer, as if she were about to tell him a secret, and he does just that.

“Whoever wins the bet gets a free meal from Shaw’s Bistro.”

Erwin’s eyes widen. Shaw’s Bistro; the classy high end restaurant with the fancy wine, fancier atmosphere, and the best Japanese Salted Salmon he’s ever had.

It was an expensive restaurant— even for someone with his salary. Erwin knew he could rarely ever eat there unless he wanted to run his bank account dry. And he concludes that this petty bet must be a Pretty Big Fucking Deal.

He squints his eyes. “I’m listening.”

Hange giggles as she continues. “Basically, you have to guess how long it’ll take for Y/N and Levi to finally admit they’re couple. But you can’t choose the same answer as other people in the bet, we can’t afford two winners. Literally.” She gestures to Moblit. “Unless you’re like dumb dumb over there who wagered they’ll never admit it because they’re not a couple—“

“They’re not!”

“—I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

Erwin nods his head, one hand on his chin in thought. He never did explicitly ask whether they were dating or not, he just assumed they were.

He carefully considers his options; be a snoop to his longterm friends and possibly break their trust for joining a foolish bet? Or Japanese Salted Salmon from Shaw’s Bistro?

Hange and Moblit look at him expectantly, smiling when he nods.

“Deal me in.”

The cafeteria was noisy when you walked in.

Students mingled amongst themselves, chatting idly about academics and gossip. Cutlery scraped against each other as people took bites of their meals. Your eyes scanned the crowd, spotting your friends sitting around their usual table and having what seemed to be a heated discussion.

You turned to look at the man beside you. “Did you bring your own lunch today?”

Levi nods as he lifts up a small black bag. “Always do. But I’ll stand next to you in the lunch line so you don’t look like a loner.”

That was Levi Speak for I’ll wait for you.

You smile. “Thanks.”

The brief silence between you is broken when you start talking about your students— how proud you were that Armin was tutoring some of the struggling students in his free time, how terrible Jean was at hiding his crush on Mikasa, how terrible Mikasa was at hiding her crush on Eren (“I don’t even think she’s trying to hide it. At this point, I’m convinced that Eren is either dumb or dense.”)

Levi nods along to your tales, seemingly uninterested and bored. But anyone who knew him well would know he was listening intently as you spoke, every word heard loud and clear and processing in his mind as soon as they left your lips. Occasionally, he would pipe in with his own comments (“Eren’s just dumb.”) but he didn’t engage too much, opting to let you speak and rant on.

Your talkativeness never got on his nerves, contrary to popular belief. He liked listening to your stories, listening to your voice, and seeing the little glint in your eyes when you start talking passionately about your students. He overall just liked being around you. You were cleaner than most people he knew. You were tolerable. Sometimes a pain in the ass, but still tolerable.

But what does get on his nerves, however, is being ‘secretly’ watched by his friends.

Once he’s sure you’re not looking, he turns his head in the direction of their table, murderous glare prominent on his face. Hange, Moblit, and Erwin quickly snap their heads down and pretend to eat, but Levi knew they were definitely staring.

“Oh crap, I forgot my free meal card.” He hears you mumble beside him. He hadn’t even realized you were already standing in front of the counter.

“Figures. You have the memory of a gold fish.” Levi comments off-handedly. 

He hands the cashier his free meal card and grabs your tray for you, and you silently took the coat that Levi had swung over his arm to carry with you instead. You knew he’d hate for it to get dirtied by any accidental soup splashing.

“So, what’s happening on your end of the gossip?” You ask, both making your way to your usual table with friends.

Levi shrugs. “The brats are doing well on their thesis. Their grammar is shit though; makes you wonder how they graduated high school.”

You snicker. “You say that now but tomorrow pull an all-nighter to help them study and revise.”

“You’re not one talk. You scheduled two different consultations between classes and three more after your shift.”

“I can’t help it, okay?! You know I have a soft spot for the kids from the 104th.”

Of course he did. He knew of your affection for that specific group of students— admittedly, he held a twinge of affection for them too.

They were part of the first class you ever taught in your entire teaching career. At the time, you both worked at some crappy school in the 104th district. And to see the kids now, all grown up and studying at a prestigious college, it made your heart swell. And Levi’s heart... well, suffice to say it cracked some of the ice around it.

“That soft spot of yours is making you lose sleep.” He scolds. “I’ll take some of the consultations off your hands. The lil shits deserve a teacher who isn’t half asleep.”

Again, that was Levi Speak for Don’t overwork yourself, let me help.

You jokingly slap his arm. “That’s rude!”

“I know.”

Your conversation is interrupted when you finally arrived at the table, Levi setting down your tray in front of you and you handing him back his coat as you sat down next to each other.

“Hey.” You greet your friends, and Levi silently unpacks his lunch. “What were you guys talking about? It looked pretty intense.”

“Oh, nothing, nothing.” Hange waved off. “Just the usual. Grading papers, grading lab experiments, grading essays. The usual.”

You nod, unconvinced but letting it slide. “I see.”

The table is once again filled with laughter and conversations. Banter was thrown around here and there, mostly between you, Hange, and Moblit as you debated about films and TV shows. Levi and Erwin stuck to light chatter, but it didn’t go unnoticed to the shorter man when Erwin’s eyes squinted as Levi placed his arm around the back of your chair like he always did, or when Hange tried to hide her squeal when he wiped some excess soup from the corner of your lips.

Something was up.

It was about ten minutes into lunch when your phone began to ring, a notification from a reminder app you downloaded. You picked up your phone and sighed as you read your schedule.

“Gotta go. I have a meeting in a few.” You mutter, beginning to clean up your tray and utensils; you were a little disappointed. You didn’t even get to finish your soup.

Levi eyes you and the way you kept glancing back and forth between your soup and the clock. He sighs before he speaks, “I’ll take care of your dishes and buy you lunch later. Just go.”

“No, no, I can— fuck!” You yell when the bowl of soup is accidentally knocked over, spilling over your jacket.

Levi silently offers you his handkerchief to clean yourself up. He starts using napkins to clean the table as well, before taking the coat he brought and giving it to you.

“Use this for now.”

You smile at him once again, taking your coat off and slipping on his as you stood up. “Thanks.”

He doesn’t flinch (or react for that matter) when you kiss his cheek before you left, only letting out a small hum of acknowledgement as you waved goodbye to your friends and made your way to the meeting.

Once you were out of view, Hange’s smile immediately drops in favor of too serious eyes as she starts interrogating Levi.

“Okay, cut the crap, Ackerman. How long have you—“

“Hange, no, we’ve talked about this.” Erwin tries to reason but his pleas fall on deaf ears as she continues.

“How long have you and Y/N been dating?”

Ah. So that’s what it was about.

Levi sighs and continues to chew on his bread. He unenthusiastically stares at the woman yelling at him, swallowing his meal before speaking, “I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again: we’re not.”

“Bullshit!” She yells. “You guys are a disgusting old married couple who have two adopted children—“

“Dogs.” Levi corrects boredly, but just like everyone else at the table, he’s ignored as Hange continues her tirade.

“—have matching sweaters, do small bullshit for each other like paying for meals and lending your coats. And for god’s sake, they literally just kissed your cheek even though you hate human contact.”

She finishes her rant but Levi looks unphased. God, she wanted to punch his dumb and oblivious face so bad.

“Those are normal things normal friends do. I’m not surprised you wouldn’t know, four-eyes.” Says Levi, but Hange is unaffected and already used to his abrasive words.

Levi continues. “We don’t do anything beyond what’s considered friendship.”

Hange squints her eyes in suspicion. “Didn’t Y/N move into your apartment?”

“Yeah. Their landlord was shit.”

“Where I caught you having sex?”

“We’re fuck buddies and you don’t know how to knock.”

“But you introduced them to your mom as your fiancé?”

“I lied so she would stop bugging me about getting married.”

“You literally have a shared bank account and a shared retirement fund!”

“It’s easier to keep track of.”

“Damn it, Levi!”

Armin stares at the study guide in front of him, mind half processing the words and half... not. Quite frankly, he starts to wonder if the papers you’d given him were written in gibberish or some dead language no one spoke anymore.

You see him struggle to understand the sheet of paper in front of him, and sigh.

“Need a little help there, Armin?” You offer but he shakes his head. “I’m okay. I think I can understand this if I read through it more, it’s my friends I’m worried about.”

He glances beside him where the rest of his study group also stared the papers, each face painted with a unique mixture of confusion and dread.

You weren’t surprised, however. The readings for this module were quite complex, and the fact that your brightest students— Armin and Mikasa— were struggling with it made you feel a little bit hopeless for the rest of your class. Truth be told, even though you taught this topic countless of times, you weren’t entirely sure how to simplify it without leaving out too much information.

“Okay, how about this, we could—“ A soft knock interrupts your sentence, and you stare at the students in front of you to remember if you were expecting any more. It seemed like everyone was here, however, so you weren’t sure who was at the door.

“It’s me.” Came Levi’s voice, almost like he heard your inner monolgue.

“Come in!” You called out, focus shifting back to the paper in front of you as you heard the door open and close.

Okay, so I guess I could take this part and summarize it for them? Or would that still be too complicated? No, maybe I can—

“Ah, it’s that topic.” Levi mumurs, snapping you out of your thoughts. His face was directly next to yours as he stared intently at the papers you held. “No wonder you all look like you’re about to crap your pants.”

“Language, Levi. Not in front of the students.” You scold.

“They curse more than I do.”

“Still.”

He ignores your comment as he hands you a brown paper bag, pulling a chair out to sit next to you. He grabs the paper from your hands to look over the study guide you prepared, undoubtedly trying to figure out a way to simplify it as well.

“What’s this?” You ask, opening the paper bag.

“Bought you dinner.” He replies, eyes not leaving the paper in front of him. “I figured you’d forget again.”

As if on cue, your stomach suddenly starts feeling empty. It was impossible that you were hungry, though. You just had lunch. And after lunch you had some meetings to attend to, a couple classes, some last minute consultations, and— okay. Maybe it’d been a couple hours since lunch, but it couldn’t be that bad. A brief glance at the clock confirms that—

“Holy shit, it’s almost 8pm.”

“Language, Y/N. Not in front of the students.”

“Kiss my ass.”

“Gladly.”

The students in front of you let out a loud groan, faces over exaggeratedly contorted in disgust at your and Levi’s conversation.

Levi glimpses up at them and raises his eyebrow in question, while you jokingly roll your eyes.

“Alright, I think we should continue our consultation another time.” You said, beginning to pack up your teaching materials as the students did the same. “It’s getting late and curfew’s at 8pm. I’d better not see any of you outside the dorms.”

You knew you would though. It’s Friday night, there’s a bar across the street, and they’re teenagers. What could possibly go wrong?

You turn to Levi and hand him the keys. “You go ahead to the car, I’ll finish packing up.”

“It’s alright, I’ll wait for you in the hallway.” Levi takes the car keys as he stands up, walking out the door once again and leaving you alone with your students.

As you began to arrange your papers and clear the table, you start to remind them, “Okay, so we can discuss chapters—“

“Are you and Professor Ackerman dating?” Eren asks curiously, earning a shove from Jean and a silent threat to shut up, dumbass.

You chuckle. “No, Eren. We’re not.”

He gives you a doubtful look, one which you only return with a curious face.

“What’s with that look?” You ask, and he shrugs.

“You should date him— ow, what?!” He speaks, getting shoved by both Reiner and Jean this time before Mikasa pulls them off of him. You pause from your task.

“Okay, I’ll humor you. Why should I date him?”

The students share a look, daring each other to respond to your bold question. A few tense moments pass by and you smugly continue packing your papers. Yeah, you figured no one would—

“He’s nicer when he’s with you.” To your surprise, it was Mikasa who answers.

Unsure how to answer but still wanting to remain professional, you nod your head without looking up from your task. “Duly noted. Now go on, I know you have parties to attend to. I won’t hold you here much longer.”

The students laughed as they said their goodbyes; you held the door open for them until everyone was out before you left as well, shutting down the lights and locking the room once more.

A warm hand makes its way to the small of your back, and you smile.

“Hey.” Levi greets.

“Hey.” You repeat. “You read to go?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna share my dinner when we get back home?”

“...yeah.”

He takes the stack of paper from your arms, his free hand reaching out for your own. You walked down the hallway in relative silence, interlocked hands swinging slightly from every step.

From the opposite corner of the hallway, the students’ prying eyes observe the small interaction; the two professors remained completely unaware that they were being watched.

“Told you they were a thing.” Ymir gloats, and the group snickers as Reiner irritatedly hands her some money.

Something was wrong.

If there was one thing Erwin knew from the nearly two decade long friendship he shared with you and Levi, it was when something was wrong.

It didn’t go unnoticed to him when Levi didn’t open your side of the car door as he usually would when you arrived at the parking lot; when he made a beeline for his cubicle in the faculty instead of helping you get settled first; when you didn’t make a fresh pot of tea for him before classes started; when your small sweet gestures throughout the day were kept to a minimal; and most importantly, when neither you nor Levi wore your matching gold rings.

The faculty was nearly empty, save for himself, Hange, Moblit, and the two people who were having a lover’s quarrel. The entire day went by without seeing you two walk side by side like you usually would, and Erwin was pretty sure Levi’s permanent frown somehow got deeper.

Yeah. Something was horribly wrong.

“Pssst.” Erwin hears from the desk next to his. He turns around and is met with Hange and Moblit’s curious gazes.

“The hell happened to those two? Trouble in paradise?” Hange asks, eyeing Y/N and Levi’s grouchy faces and refusal to acknowledge each others’ existence as they each packed their things. She adds on, “Are they getting divorced?” Only to be reminded by Moblit that “They’re not dating.”

Erwin shrugs, answering Hange’s question. “No idea.”

Moblit chimes in, “I heard Petra tried asking Levi out yesterday and now Y/N is jealous.” 

She scoffs. “Y/N isn’t the jealous type. Besides, Petra’s part of the bet so that means she thinks they’re going to get together.”

“I’m part of the bet and I don’t think they’re going to get together.” Moblit points out. “And Petra stares at Levi the way Levi stares at Y/N.”

“Full of disdain and irritation?” Hange asks.

“No,” Erwin finally interjects. “Full of love and admiration.”

“Can the three of you creeps keep your mouths shut?” Hange, Erwin, and Moblit’s heads snapped to the direction of the voice, eyes meeting a pissed off Levi with a pissed off Y/N beside him. It seems like their hushed whispering wasn’t so hushed at all. 

“When you gossip about our private life the least you could do is wait until we’ve left the room.” You gritted.

“No, it wasn’t-” Hange tries to defend herself but is cut off by Levi, “We already heard you talking. Now out with it before I change my mind about letting this slide.”

The three guilty professors sigh, sharing a look before Erwin decides to come clean. “We’re concerned for you.” He starts. “You’ve been ignoring each other the entire day and whatever this fight is, it’s the worst one I’ve seen you have.”

You sigh. “Listen, it’s not that we don’t appreciate your concern, it’s just that-”

“-it’s just that it’s none of your goddamn business.” Levi interjects and you immediately glare at his rudeness. 

“Shut it, Levi. I don’t have time for your bull.”

“And I don’t have time for your petty lies.”

The three watched as you and Levi begin to quarrel, sharp words and irritated glares thrown around with each passing second. Your voices overlapped with each other as Erwin tried to make sense of what it was you were even fighting about, some words about betrayal in the highest degree and ruining a good thing and a relationship built on lies being the few words he understands. 

Finally, he has enough.

“Stop.” Erwin says loudly but firmly. The two of you pause from your bickering him and stare at him incredulously; he continues to speak, “We’re not teenagers anymore, we’re grown adults. I’m getting tired of playing mediator whenever you fight but if I have to do it again so you stop yelling, then I will.” 

He sighs. “Now what the hell are you two fighting about?”

“Y/N started it.” “Levi started it.” You say at the same time, and Erwin feels a headache coming but decides to ignore it.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

The two of you stare at each other angrily, almost daring the other to back down. This goes on for a few seconds before Levi finally sighs and speaks.

“Y/N thinks lemon scented detergent is better than lavender scented detergent.”

Hange and Moblit snicker but quickly shut up when Erwin gives them a look. He wasn’t even surprised that a fight as small and menial as this would be the fight that tears his favorite power couple apart.

“It is and you know it.” You reply defiantly and Levi groans in frustration, hand holding his head in disbelief as he quietly mutters, “I can’t believe I’m marrying someone who thinks lemon is better than lavender.”

At that, Hange’s ears perk up. “You’re getting married?!” She screams, and the two of you look at her in confusion, fight suddenly forgotten.

“Yeah, next week.” You reply wearily. “We emailed you the invites.”

If Erwin thought your bickering was loud, then the squeal that Hange let out was nothing short of deafening as she suddenly lunges at the couple, forcing them into a group hug as she cheers, “I knew it! I fucking knew it! You are together.”

Levi scoffs. “Don’t be silly, it’s for tax purposes. Apparently the bank won’t approve the loan for our new house unless we’re legally wed; something about tax fraud.”

“House?” Moblit echoes. “Don’t you already live together?”

You nod. “Yeah, but we figured the kids-”

“Dogs.” Levi corrects.

“-deserve a yard to run around in. Our apartment’s getting too cramped for the four of us.”

“Don’t ruin this for me!” Hange yells. “I have a wedding to plan.”

Levi sighs. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, four-eyes. There isn’t going to be a ceremony. We’re going to a court house to get our marriage license approved. That’s it.”

“And we invited you and Erwin to be our witnesses.” You explained. “There isn’t going to be a celebration but we’re going to host a small dinner party for close friends and family.We’d greatly appreciate it if you can RSVP to the emails within the week so we know how much food to prepare.”

The three professors nod, each exchanging pleasant smiles. It wasn’t the wedding invite they were hoping to receive but it was still a wedding invite nonetheless, and they weren’t about to burst your bubble.

“Hold on a second,” Erwin mutters, suddenly remembering one detail. “Where are your rings?” He gestures to your ringless hands.

“We had them engraved with our initials. Makes things more believable.” Levi answers. “If you’re done with the dumb questions, we’ll go ahead now.” 

He doesn’t wait for them to answer as he holds your hand in his, walking you out of the faculty room and into the hallway as he pretends not to notice his friends giggling like teenagers at the information you just shared.

“So...” You start, giving him a warm smile as you squeezed his hand. “Do you think they’re catching on?”

Levi lets out a rare smile, eyes softening as he looks at you. “No. They’re too dumb to know we’re actually together. They’ll eat up whatever bullshit explanation we come up with.”

“Okay, but remind me again why we have to keep pretending like we’re not actually together and not actually getting married next week?”

He brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles affectionately before placing his hand on the small of your back.

“Does it bother you that they don’t know?” He asks, and you hum as you think it through. “No. It’s actually really entertaining.” You laugh. “But why don’t you want them to know?”

He shrugs, pulling you closer to him. “That’s what they get for placing stupid bets.”

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

If you want to be added to the tag list, click this link! 

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Nineteen

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: another chapter where the girls are clowns and cassian worships nesta's every breath 🙄 i promise some variety is headed your way soon

***

Gwyn adamantly refuses to accept any gifts for her birthday, much to Emerie’s irritation and Nesta’s relief. No amount of love for her friends can make Nesta enjoy the turmoil of hunting for the perfect gift, and she happily shows up at Gwyn’s apartment that night with nothing save for an overnight bag.

Gwyn easily has the nicest home out of all three of the girls, and it makes Nesta feel oddly proud to have a financially stable friend. Nesta herself has been flacking on her legal consultant duties to Night Court Inc., choosing to make do with the money she’s already earned while focusing on school.

Once they’ve all changed into sleep clothes and are settled around the living room coffee table with a cupcake and a glass of wine each, Gwyn pulls out a brightly colored bracelet-making kit with a sheepish grin. “I found this while I was looking through my childhood things,” she says, opening the kit. “You guys aren’t too grown for it, are you?”

“Depends,” Emerie hums, leaning over to get a closer look. “Is it Rainbow Loom?”

She gets her answer when Gwyn dumps out bundles of multicolored string instead of rubber bands onto the table. Looking disappointed, Emerie plucks up a handful of string. “Fine, I guess I can make do.”

Nesta licks cream cheese frosting off her thumb. “How do you make them? The bracelets?”

She’s met with two dumbfounded stares. “Have you never been to a thirteen year old’s slumber party?” Gwyn says.

“...No?”

When Gwyn and Emerie keep staring, Nesta feels the need to add, “I’ve never been to a sleepover. This is my first.” She was never one to be invited to sleepovers or social gatherings; even when she made acquaintances in middle and high school, they were just that—acquaintances.

“That’s��� actually kind of sad,” Emerie says. Gwyn elbows her hard, making her yelp.

“I never thought of it that way,” Nesta says, shrugging. Though maybe it’s because a lot of things about her childhood were sad; it isn’t like she kept count of it all.

“Well, you can learn how to make bracelets now,” Gwyn states, taking out a little plastic baggie and emptying it out onto the table. Small silver charms scatter everywhere. “Everyone gets three colors and one charm.”

Nesta leans forward, making out the different charms. She spies one in the shape of a book, and another in the shape of a dove, and one in the shape of a music note. She snatches up the eighth note before anyone else can. Gwyn takes the book for herself, and Emerie considers the selection of charms before picking a dagger-shaped one. They prepare their string next.

“Now, we can either braid them or knot them.” Gwyn demonstrates how to do it either way, Nesta watching closely before imitating her. She braids the strings of her bracelet as best she can, her cheeks turning red with frustration whenever she spies one of the other girls’ perfect knots. Her half-eaten cupcake is forgotten as she tries to get her bracelet to stay together.

At one point she just has to accept the shoddy work she’s done and tie the bracelet off. She checks to see if it fits on her wrist.

“Now everyone give their bracelet to the person on their left,” Gwyn declares.

Nesta clutches her sloppily-made bracelet to her chest as Emerie responds, “What?”

“So we can wear each other’s bracelets,” Gwyn explains. “And carry around a part of each other all the time.”

“If I had known we were gonna be sentimental, I wouldn’t have picked the cute charm,” Emerie grumbles. Nesta agrees, but Gwyn just clicks her tongue and starts switching bracelets around. In the end, Nesta has Emerie’s dagger bracelet, Gwyn has Nesta’s music note bracelet, and Emerie has Gwyn’s book charm.

Nesta wiggles her bracelet on and turns her wrist over in the light. “That was fun,” she decides. “What happens next at a sleepover?”

“Next,” Gwyn says, “we exchange our most embarrassing secrets with each other, and then we do each other’s hair.”

Emerie shakes her head. “Okay, now I’m really too old for this. Anyone want to watch a movie?”

Gwyn nudges Emerie. “I’m the old one here, and it’s my birthday.” She raises her pert chin in a way that doesn’t look very grown up at all. “What I say goes.”

Emerie flicks up an eyebrow and stares in challenge, which Nesta interrupts by saying, rather exasperatedly, “I’ll go first, then.”

She digs around in her head for something embarrassing enough to be socially acceptable, only to realize that although a lot of embarrassing things have happened to her before, none of them are secrets. She finally settles on an admission. “When I was a kid, I had a thing for breaking and entering into rich people’s empty houses and hanging out in them. Does that count as a secret?”

Gwyn gapes, laughing in disbelief. “Are you going to leave it at that?”

“That actually sounds fun.” Emerie swirls her wine. “Why’d you stop?”

Nesta had almost forgotten. “I got caught.” She remembers the terror of being fourteen and fleeing past cherry blossom trees on her bare feet. “The owner’s family showed up early to vacation one year, and I never risked going back after that.” She shrugs. “Who’s next?”

Gwyn raises her hand excitedly. “I used to be a hardcore Gleek. Like, I had a closet full of Glee memorabilia.”

Nesta doesn’t quite know what to say. Emerie winces. “Maybe you should’ve kept that one a secret.”

“It was only one facet of my entire theatre kid personality. Should I tell you about the rest?”

Emerie raises her hands in surrender. “Please don’t. I’ll go next if it makes you stop.”

Gwyn laughs and Nesta perks up. “What’s your secret?” She hopes Emerie will finally admit to filling their shared Kindle account with lesbian spanking fiction.

But Emerie suddenly gets serious, clearing her throat and fingering the stem of her wine glass. “I might have the worst secret,” she says awkwardly. “I haven’t been honest with you guys.”

Nesta straightens, and Gwyn looks intrigued.

“In my defense,” Emerie says, “I never expected all of us to end up hanging out this much. Before Nesta and I became friends, all I did was show up to school to kick rich kids’ asses and make career connections.”

“Spit it out, Emerie,” Nesta tells her.

So she does. “I’ve been lying about my age.” Her cheeks turn red, either from alcohol or embarrassment, Nesta doesn’t know.

Nesta furrows her brows. “You’re not twenty-four?”

Emerie shakes her head in guilt.

“How old are you, then?” Gwyn says.

Emerie mutters something too low for them to hear. When Gwyn tells her to repeat herself, she says, too loudly, “Twenty-eight.”

She’s met with silence, and then—

Gwyn starts cackling, nearly keeling over. Nesta can only stare in shock. “Why would you—?”

“Because school is a shark tank,” Emerie says. “Everyone else went there straight out of undergrad, and I had to work four jobs for four years just to afford tuition. Being old at Prythian means being poor.” She quietens, looking down at her brown hands twisted together. “And by the time we started to get close, it felt too weird to bring up. So… I’m sorry?” She looks up to see if Nesta is upset.

Nesta doesn’t know what to feel, but Gwyn seems to. “You called me old,” she accuses. “You’re nearly a grandma!”

“Were you going to lie about your age forever?” Nesta interjects.

“If I had known there was going to be a forever, I would have opened up a lot sooner,” Emerie defends.

Nesta drops her head onto the table and covers her ears with her arms. “This is so weird,” she says against the wood of the table, her voice muffled. “I can never look at you the same way ever again.”

“That’s fair,” Emerie says cautiously. “But are you really mad?” Nesta feels a hesitant hand touch her shoulder.

“I need time to process,” Nesta says from her cocoon. Suddenly she hears a hum and a click, and her cocoon gets even darker. Gwyn and Emerie make twin sounds of surprise.

Poking her head up, Nesta blinks to find total darkness in the apartment. The heater has stopped running, leaving behind a quiet stillness.

“Shit,” Gwyn curses, fumbling with her phone. The flashlight turns on, lighting up her face. “I swear I paid my electric bill.”

“I don’t think it’s just you,” Emerie says, getting up to look out the window. “Look, the whole street is out.”

By the time they gather some candles and light them, the apartment has dropped twenty degrees in temperature. Nesta shudders, wishing she’d brought some warm pants with her.

“Let me get us some blankets,” Gwyn says, running off to the linen closet. Emerie and Nesta huddle together on the couch while they wait.

“So you’re really not mad at me?” Emerie asks, hope in her voice.

“Not mad,” Nesta says. “But I think we all lost a little respect for you back there.”

Emerie smiles. “Just a little?”

Gwyn comes back then wearing a thick sweater and carrying a pile of comforters. “I got a text from the landlord,” she says, unceremoniously dropping the blankets onto the couch. “Ice took out the power lines in the whole neighborhood, and we’re not getting any electricity until morning.”

“But it’s negative temperatures outside,” Nesta protests. “We’ll freeze to death.”

“Not if we all cuddle.” Gwyn tries to beam at them, but the effort is futile. “I’m sorry, guys,” she sighs, plopping onto the couch beside Nesta. “This is a terrible birthday celebration.”

Nesta wraps an arm around Gwyn and tucks her into her side, soaking up her warmth as Emerie spreads a heavy comforter over all of their legs. “What are you apologizing for? You did nothing wrong.”

The girls sit in silence for a few minutes until Emerie speaks up. “I wonder what Mr. Madani is doing right now.”

“What?” Nesta frowns.

“He’s probably all alone in his fancy heated cabin, unaware that you’re stuck in the cold dark.” Emerie suddenly smacks Nesta’s arm. “Hey. Why are we freezing our asses off here when you practically own that cabin?”

“I do not practically own that cabin,” Nesta splutters. “And this is Gwyn’s birthday. Why would I take you to Cassian’s place on her birthday?”

“Exactly!” Emerie says. “It’s Gwyn’s birthday, and she deserves better than this. Can’t your boyfriend be a little charitable and share his nice house with us?”

Nesta turns to Gwyn for help, but Gwyn just says carefully, “...Is it a big cabin?”

Emerie nods fiercely, pulling out her phone. “Eris has a picture of it from New Year’s on his Instagram. You wouldn’t believe how much money these Night Court execs make.”

Nesta makes pointed eyes at Gwyn. “You really want to spend your birthday with two strange men?” Cassian and Azriel aren’t exactly meek, nonthreatening men either—at least not at first glance. Considering the state Gwyn was in just some weeks ago, this doesn’t sound like a good idea at all.

Gwyn sounds wary but open-minded when she says, “You trust them, right? And it’s not like we’re going to let the guys join our sleepover. We’re just going to have a warm place to stay while we wait for my power to come back.”

When it’s phrased like that… Nesta purses her lips, thinking.

“Fine,” she finally decides. “Let’s go.”

***

Nesta strips off her jeans almost as soon as she enters the cabin. Much to Cassian’s pride and pleasure, this leaves her wearing only one of his old sweatshirts. Meanwhile, Gwyn and Emerie stand around awkwardly in the middle of the living area without knowing what to do next.

“Make yourselves at home.” Cassian grins at them. “Do you need anything? Food? Drinks?”

“Stop worrying,” Nesta groans. “We don’t need to be mothered.”

“I totally hear you,” he nods. “I’ll make cookies.” And maybe some hot drinks. It’s supposed to be a birthday party, after all.

Just then, Azriel appears at the top of the stairs in a dark hoodie and sweats. He’s halfway down the steps when he notices the living room full of girls and promptly turns around.

Cassian calls his name before he can escape. “Want to help me out in the kitchen?”

“No, thanks,” Az says over his shoulder, leaving Cassian alone to play host.

While Gwyn and Emerie admire the cabin (“There’s a gym down the hallway and a library upstairs,” Nesta points out to them), Cassian gathers baking ingredients in the kitchen. He rarely eats desserts or junk food, much less makes them, but surely he can manage a snack for the girls.

When he returns to the living room half an hour later with cookies and mugs of hot chocolate, the coffee table has been moved out of the way and replaced with a spread of blankets and pillows. The fire crackles hotly enough that Gwyn and Emerie have joined Nesta in discarding any extra clothing articles, and they all cheer from the couch when they spy the food.

“Goddamn,” Emerie whistles at the platter of cookies on Nesta’s lap. “Nesta told us you were a catch, Mr. Madani, but she didn’t tell us she got the full housewife package.”

“Shut up.” Nesta shoves a cookie into Emerie’s mouth and passes Gwyn some hot chocolate. Any toughness vanishes when she looks back at Cassian. “Thank you,” she mouths, and he answers by smoothing out her ponytail.

Satisfied with his work and feeling guilty for crashing the girls’ fun, he’s about to call it a night when he feels a tug at his pants. Nesta is looking up at him with eyes that ask him to stay. Cassian glances nervously to Gwyn and Emerie, who are arguing about what movie to watch from his extensive streaming collection, and glances back to Nesta. Are you sure? he asks her silently.

She nods, but it isn’t until Gwyn says, “Just sit down, you’re blocking the TV,” that he indeed sits his ass down on the floor by Nesta’s feet.

A short tug of war between Gwyn and Emerie results in Emerie getting the remote. She blows a hair triumphantly out of her face. “No Planet Earth documentary for you, then,” she says.

Gwyn sits back, grumbling, “You’d think I’d get treated better on my damn birthday.” Nesta adds, “I like documentaries.”

“You’ll like The Proposal even more,” Emerie refutes, scrolling through the TV.

The smell of melting chocolate chips must invade the rest of the cabin, because not long after the movie begins, Cassian catches Azriel sneaking downstairs. As subtle as a shadow, no one even notices him until he plucks up a cookie from the side table by Nesta.

She slides her eyes over to him without turning her head. “You look like a punk with your hood up,” she snorts. “What are you, fifteen?”

From the floor, Cassian withholds a sigh.

Az shoots her a dark look, clearly not appreciating the attention brought to his presence. “Don’t be a little shit,” he warns in a low tone. He reaches for another cookie and Nesta bats his hand away. “Those aren’t for you,” she hisses.

“Can we please not—” Cassian tries.

Az glares and goes for the cookie again. Nesta smacks him back, which results in a slap fight that is only interrupted by Gwyn pleading, “Guys, we’re missing Sandra Bullock!”

Nesta pulls away, looking apologetic, and Az flushes pink. “Sorry,” he mutters. But he snatches up three cookies with a final look at Nesta and goes to sit in the armchair on the other side of the room.

Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie get cozy once more, quickly forgetting that Az is there. Emerie stretches her brown legs out across Gwyn’s lap like a cat. Nesta drapes her own leg over Cassian’s shoulder without warning. He turns around to meet her eyes, surprised, but she’s already intently focused on the movie. Smiling faintly to himself, he reaches up to brush her skin. It probably looks to everyone else like she owns him head to toe.

One thing Cassian quickly learns about the girls is that they simply can’t sit still. Even Nesta is more restless than usual, and she nearly kicks Cassian in the head more than once while readjusting herself on the couch. Emerie moves to sprawl on the rug. Gwyn sits upside down and watches with her head dangling off the seat.

As for Cassian, he loses all interest in the movie once Nesta joins him and Emerie on the floor, unable to contain her emotions from the couch. He glances between the movie and her face to find what’s making her so giddy, but it’s only the two main characters getting ready for a shower. He lifts a brow in amusement for no one to see, but settles back to watch her face in the glow of the dying fire. He’s waiting for her smile.

Because when Nesta really likes something, she’ll smile, and when she smiles… Everything scrunches up: her nose, her eyes, her cheeks.

On the TV, a naked Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock collide into each other, toppling to the floor. Nesta’s grin makes an appearance, and she slaps Cassian’s thigh in excitement, hard enough to hurt.

He hisses in a sharp breath, but doesn’t say anything or look away. He thinks he might have to kill anyone that refuses to protect the smile on her face right now, no matter who it is.

Once the scene changes, he walks two fingers up her leg to get her attention. “Nesta,” he whispers, unable to help himself.

She glances at him for half a second before looking back to the movie. “What?”

He opens his arms and gestures her closer. Come and let me hold you.

Nesta makes a face. “Don’t embarrass me in front of the girls.”

Cassian’s lips turn down. “You don’t mean that.”

She does. To prove her point, she crawls closer to Emerie and settles down next to her. Gwyn joins them on the floor, and they all huddle together.

When he catches Az staring at him with a hint of revulsion, Cassian coughs off the yearning and rejection and glares right back.

After the movie finishes, Emerie victoriously crushes an empty can of beer in her fist. Cassian has no idea where it came from. “More Sandra!” she demands.

It takes three more movies before Emerie is knocked out cold on the arrangement of blankets and pillows on the floor, Gwyn with her. Nesta eventually came back to Cassian and fell asleep with her arms wrapped around his waist, and Azriel passed out sometime after Miss Congeniality, curled up in the armchair with his fist propping up his head.

Now, Cassian carefully untangles Nesta from himself, nudging her towards Emerie instead. In her sleep, Nesta turns over to clutch the other woman’s arm and mumbles something unintelligible.

Cassian props a pillow gently beneath her head and picks up another one, throwing it harder than he needs to at Azriel’s face. “Get up,” he hisses.

Az jerks out of his sleep, looking around the dim room in confusion. Cursing lowly, he pushes himself out of his seat and scrubs a hand through his hair. “What time is it?”

“Three.” Cassian pulls a comforter over Nesta and Emerie’s shoulders.

Az crouches and picks up the other side of the comforter, adjusting it over Gwyn’s body. Cassian thinks he might see a frown cross his face for half a second, but then Az is standing up and brushing off his clothes.

After turning off the TV, the guys head for their rooms. “I didn’t think three grown women could be so... much,” Az says as they climb up the stairs.

Cassian huffs a laugh. “We were like that when we were younger, too.”

“Yeah, but we were teenagers.”

They reach the hallway. “I don’t know about the others,” Cassian says thoughtfully, “but Nesta never got to be a normal kid.” She barely got to be a normal adult. And in a couple of short years, she’ll be working her ass off at some prestigious firm and won’t have time for simple things like sleepovers anymore.

Cassian selfishly hopes he can give Nesta all the normalcy he can before that happens.

***

a/n: i’m gonna do my best in future chapters to give cassian depth beyond just his relationship with nesta 🥴 but first, be on the lookout for a gwynriel bonus scene :)

tags: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara9 @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad