#the way i type here u would barely know i can string a sentence together

[ranticore]

I've often seen people ask you for drawing advice(which yes absolutely!) but what kind of writing advice could you give someone who wants to start? (or just narratives as a whole)

Ok my biggest advice and the thing I always spend most time on when editing is that u should tell the audience way less than you think you should tell them. Provide information sure but don't draw connections and don't hold a reader's hand. Like for example one minute ago I was reading over a paragraph with the final two sentences (paraphrased): "The word 'faery' didn't quite make it out of his mouth [in reference to himself]. He'd never thought of himself in those terms" and my editing comment was to nix that last sentence entirely because it's just saying out loud what the previous sentence is telling us, like holding ur hand and pointing at it saying "hey this is what that last sentence meant btw". it's easy to end up with a lot of that but you need to go back and cut all of those out. think about a reader drawing their own judgements, how much more engaging it is

Other random stuff I've picked up over the years

Kerb your worldbuilders disease ur writing a story not an encyclopaedia

Read your paragraph aloud to identify repetitive or weirdly structured sentences

There should be a clear causal chain running the length of the narrative - x happened because of y, which happened because of z, and so on. No matter how many links in the chain you should know it start to finish

Written media gives you an unlimited time budget, a reader can take as long as they like with it. You don't have to make it quick and snappy. You get to show & explore things that visual media can't, so take advantage of it. Also ditch every piece of writing advice which is like "trim all the fat and also imagine camera angles and scene cuts like it's a movie" because it's not a movie and you aren't constrained into a short runtime.

First draft is rough it's supposed to be rough just write it

It's impossible to write dialogue that nobody would ever say.. easy to scoff and think "nobody talks like this" but they do

I can't in good conscience advise everybody do this but the slush draft (draft 0 as it were) of stbh was narrated entirely in first person by the pov character in each chapter, with the framing device that they were explaining their actions to a judgemental third party. This was just done for fun before any other world building or even plot it was just to get the characters right first & to sort out how they would attempt to justify their actions, when they'd try to make themselves sound better (or worse), and just their voice in general. It ended up being absolutely invaluable

[hotwings0203]

HOWDY!! how are u doing?? Its that person who asked if you would write something for that deku imagine that @candy-hime wrote, about you and deku forced to live together and you corrupting him it could be you or reader but I just love that concept of corrupted! Deku 😩🙏🏾💕💕

Thank you, have a nice day/night!! 😪💜

OH HI HAHAHA MASSIVE BET, I think I’ll do a little bit of both. This will probably be a little self indulgent but I’ll still put it as an “x reader”!

Tw:noncon, misogyny, the reader is a bitch, vouyerism

It was a dare by your friends to live with Izuku Midorkya for a month if you really could handle any type of man.

You’ve dealt with Hawks’ cocky nature, Shoto’s bland comebacks, Bakugo’s constant state of rage- you’ve done it all. Any type of scummy or tiring man a girl has to date you’ve seen in all of these men. They’re practically walking red flags.

Until you’re forced to room with Deku for a whole freaking month.

You just don’t get him! Why is he always so cheery? What the fuck is he smiling about? And who the hell is he baking for? There’s only two of you in the house, it’s not like you’re his girlfriend or anything.

You don’t buy it. There has to be some kind of catch to all this facade of a gentleman.

“Hey, Y/N?” He knocks on your ajar door and peeks his cute little face in. “Did you have dinner yet? I was gonna eat but then I thought I’d have some ramen with you-“

“Did I say you could enter?” You slowly lift your head up from your laptop and glare at him. “Are you some kind of pervert? What if I was changing?”

“N-no! I’m so sorry, I should’ve let you answer first, I just wanted to see if you were hungry-“

“God, what are you, my dad? Is that what you want? For me to call you Daddy?” Sneering, you jump up from your bed and stall towards the door.

Deku stumbles over his feet to retreat after seeing the look on your face. “No! Not at all, what? Come on, I didn’t mean any harm-“

“Yeah? Then knock before you enter closet perv.” And with that, you slam the door mere inches away from his startled face as hard as you can, uncaring if the low this on the other side of the wood was his connection to it swinging shut.

“What a fucking brown-noser,” you mutter loud enough for him to hear.

It’s odd how long you wait behind the door before you can hear his footsteps retreat.

A week later you decide to amp it up a notch. There’s no way he’s so fucking green, there’s gotta be some twisted thing inside him that makes him tick.

And so on the day of his turn to do laundry, you decide to dump your fanciest and sluttiest undergarments into the laundry basket.

He’s in some dorky apron when you catch him kneeling over the bag, ruffling through clothes and spraying them with detergent like the good little boy he is.

You perch on the couch behind the laundry room and wait. He doesn’t hear a thing with his headphones blasting some stupid happy-go-lucky songs in his ears.

Eventually he pulls out your lace g-string, and stares at the crumpled mass in confusion. He unravels the lace and stares at it for a good minute or two in surprise you think.

But nonetheless, like the chivalrous man he is, he shakes his head and slaps his reddening cheeks to get over the shock before reaching for the spray.

This was your cue.

You make sure to sound out of breath and extra irritated when you flounce over to his kneeling form and snatch the garment out of his hands.

He jumps a bit and takes his headphones off when he sees your hand descending.

“Oh, it’s just you. You scared me for a sec’ there,” he laughs sheepishly and rubs his neck. “I was just doing the laundry, sorry if that looked weird.”

“Looked weird? You’re fucking disgusting, Dick-u. I’ve been looking for these for days now, and where do I find them? In your grubby little hands.”

His jaw drops open.

“Huh? No, you’ve got it all wrong! It was in the basket, I swear! You must have misplaced it by accident or something.”

“Oh, so now you’re calling me a liar? You think I’m crazy or something? Im not the one sniffing girls’ panties!”

He frantically waves his hands to negate your accusation but you merely spit on the floor next to him.

“Don’t touch my shit again you fucking freak. Go buy a pocket pussy or something since you can’t keep it in your pants.”

At this, he pinches his eyebrows together and starts getting up.

“Hold on, what’re you being so aggressive for? I told you, they were just in here, I’m not that kind of guy.”

He steps towards but you don’t back down. Rather, you jab a finger in his toned chest and bring yourself face-to-face with him.

“Dont fucking walk up to me like that you douche. You’re the one in the wrong here, so I wouldn’t be so aggressive, like you said. Come at me like that again and I’ll fuck you up.”

With the lace in hand, you barely contain your smirk as you storm back into your room, relishing in how Izuku stands like a statue in the same place as you left him, his hands curiously curling into fists and his nostrils inflated.

But behind the safety of your door, he doesn’t continue any shenanigans.

He stays relatively quiet and out of sight for a couple of days, and you start to get bored again.

So this time, you put all your cards on the table and do a double whammy.

One night you call Katsuki, a fuck buddy of yours for a while and use him to help you get off.

You’re not really horny, but the blond side does have a way of getting you there. Luckily, your room is right next to Deku’s so your plan is executed to the best extent.

“Katsuki, oh Katsuki, please. Fuck, fuck yeah, ‘wanna hear you cum for me baby, I want you to bruise my cervix,” you babble loudly as you shove two fingers in your pussy and use your thumb to press on your clit.

“Yeah, you fucking whore, you like that? You like knowing that a shitty nerd like him’s prolly getting off to you calling my name like a slut? I bet you do, keep fucking yourself to my voice, do it otherwise I’ll bruise your ass black and blue when this month’s over.”

“Kat-Katsuki please fuck meeee dadddyyyyy oh fuck-Kacchan!” You cry out and cum violently around squelching fingers.

You put the phone down for a moment to catch your breath, but hear nothing from the other room.

Your face falls as Bakugo rambles on the other end. You hang up with him mid-sentence and remove your fingers from your legs, licking it off absentmindedly and thinking of your next move.

The next morning, you don the tiniest pairs of shorts you have in your closet that accentuates the shape of your ass and the skimpiest bra you can find that shows a peek of the top of your nipples.

You tie your hair up and amble out into the kitchen where he already is, reading something on his his phone and sipping form a black mug.

He barely darts his eyes and lifts the corners of his mouth in a hesitant greeting when he sees what you’re wearing.

He chokes on his drink and does a massive double take, juice spilling from his open mouth.

You raise an eyebrow and smooth your baby hairs, rolling your eyes and walking behind him to grab your own cup.

“See something you like?” Water trickling is the only sound in the room apart from your quip.

“Uh, n-no. Just swallowed wrong I guess.”

“Wonder why,” you drawl with a bored voice and edge closer to his back.

He’s hunched over, mindlessly scrolling too-fast on his phone to be deemed as actually reading anything. You recognize this form of coping from people like yourself who try to find distractions at parties where you don’t know people, just flipping through tabs to look like you’re actually doing something.

As you walk around him again, you make sure to train your eyes on his own, hounding he out for the moment he slips.

And slip he does, but only after you pretend to stretch and lift your self on your tippy toes in front of him, your shorts hiking up to show some cheek.

It’s only for a moment, but while the cup is against his mouth and his phone in his hand, his eyes dart to the exposed skin, then back up to your triumphant eyes.

“I knew it.”

He sighs and puts his cup down. “Knew what?”

“That you were a sick little virgin who gets off on staring at girls.”

“Y/N, I wasn’t-“

“I also know,” you raise your voice above his and slowly walk over to the table on the other side across from him, leaning forward and making sure that your tits squish together as you drop them on the countertop, “that last night you were totally listening to me on the phone with Bakugo. I heard your grunts and disgusting fapping noises. You don’t have to make it so obvious that you don’t get any.”

And this time, regardless of his indignation and frustration, he can’t stop himself from watching your hands trail up the sides of your bra and slowly drag the material down, down, down until your perfect breasts spill out and embrace the cold granite.

You honestly have no idea if he jacked off to last night’s call or not, but he doesn’t seem to be denying anything.

His mouth opens the widest you’ve even seen it. His face is beet red, and he visibly starts to perspire.

Your hands mold the soft skin and squeeze until your nipples swell and peek out from between your ruthless fingers, but you still look as bored and slightly curious as ever.

“This is all you’re ever gonna get, you sad incel. Take a good long look at them since I know this is what you’ve been wanting this entire time now.”

His mouth opens and closes, but no sound comes out.

When he groans and starts to bring his down down between his legs, you strike.

“I guess I really was right. You’re not some nice guy, it was all a facade. Can’t wait to tell everyone how fucked in the head you are.” His vision starts to clear as you sneer at him again and start packing your tits back where they belong.

As you turn around, you call out over your shoulder, “Oh, and by the way? You whimper like a little bitch.”

It’s silent as you walk with your head held high back to your room, sure that you had broken him and that he was going to take his loss with his own held low.

You don’t really expect to hear the thunderous sounds of someone dragging their chair away and positively sprinting towards you.

You turn halfway and your eyes widen as you see him barreling towards you with the most terrifying expression you’ve ever seen on him.

“What the fu-“

But you don’t get a chance to finish your exclamation, because Deku body slams you onto your bed and immediately seized your wrists above your head. You can feel his hard-on rub against your mound as he straddles your flailing body and keeps you pinned between his muscles calves.

“Get off of me, are you fucking crazy?” You scream and toss your head side to side, trying to arch your back to throw him off of you-which only succeeds in pressing your mound against his.

“You teasing slut. All I’ve done is try to play nice with you, but you just had to fucking push it, didn’t you?” He rages quietly, his arms shaking in effort not to snap your wrists in half. You still as his jaw clenches and trembles, his green hair hanging over his eyes that reflect nothing but malice and hate.

You’re scared. For the first time this entire month with him, you want him away from you and off of you.

“Look, I-I messed up, I know, I’m sorry-“

“-You’re sorry?” He laughs high pitched and you cringe when he thrusts his face towards yours, practically brushing noses and seeing his bloodshot crazed eyes.

“Yeah, you will be sorry. After today, you won’t ever fuck with me again. Or at least want to. I’ll do whatever the hell I want with you though since that’s what you’ve been so hellbent on achieving, right?”

His scarred hands waste no time in yanking down your bra the same way you did before, except much less gentler than you did by yourself.

“No, no, Deku please, I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking.” You whimper and struggle again beneath him, which is promptly stopped with a loud squeal when he pinches your nipple.

“Shut up. Wanton bitches like you don’t get to beg for mercy.”

He smirks and lets his tongue flop onto your strained neck, slobbering like a dog all over you.

“This is what you wanted right? For me to put you in your place and fuck your needy hole? And you had the audacity to call me disgusting,” he laughs and draws back, mocking your wobbling lips.

“Oh, oh baby don’t cry,” he holds both your wrists in one hand and uses the other to caress your cheek, slapping it hard when you turn away from his touch. “You’re just gonna get what’s coming to you.”

He indicates what he means by grinding his hips against the front of your shorts, snickering as you whimper and dipping his fingers below the hem, teasing you cruelly.

“Whose whimpering like the bitch now, huh?”

[headheartbellarke]

Speak Now | WILLEX

dear @calamitykaty​ - happy valentine’s day! i’m your secret valentine, and i hope you have a brilliant, lovely day!! i just wanted to say that i absolutely adore your fics hehe :3 this one is for you, i hope u like it, you wonderful human!!

& a million thanks & kudos to @screwunsaidemily​​ / @jatpsecretvalentine​ for organizing this!! happy valentine’s day, raegan! and i hope today is as amazing as you are!!

✿◕ ‿ ◕✿

PAIRING(s): Alex Mercer x Willie, Flynn x Carrie Wilson, Julie Molina x Luke Patterson, past!Alex Mercer x Luke Patterson

WARNING(s): nothing haha just some fluff and we stan bobby in this house.. oh and some language

WORDS: 3.85k

SUMMARY: With his boyfriend marrying Carrie Wilson (well, in his defence, that’s his grandmother’s ‘dying wish’), Willie fancies himself to be the main character of a Shakespearean tragedy. Based on Speak Now by Taylor Swift.

KEEP READING BELOW OR READ ON AO3

     Willie exhales, watching his breath crystallize into tiny ice particles. He extends a hand to catch them, but that action causes the little cloud to dissipate.

  He rolls his eyes. Who has their wedding in Canada, in winter? Plus, not just on any day, but on Valentine’s Day.

  He fancies that he might as well be the main character of a Shakespearean tragedy. Watching your boyfriend get married is painful enough, but to a girl? That shit makes you feel as if your heart has a screw lodged in it. He feels as if he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  Willie likes to say that he hates Alex (i.e., the said boyfriend, the love, the light, the star of his life) – but that sentence leaves behind a bitter taste in his mouth, like he’s just had that weird cough syrup that his mother buys.

  Alex’s friends can definitely see through his act, like, right now.

  “Willie, relax! Everything’s gonna be alright!” Julie Molina, Alex’s bandmate, ‘unbiological sister’, and ‘best gossip partner’ exclaims. She is crouching beside him.

  “Julie, I’m not the type of guy to crash a wedding and sabotage it, especially one hosted by those…” His hand moves in circular motions, pointing to the direction of the church, where Alex’s parents are probably seated. 

  Luke Patterson, Julie’s boyfriend and Alex’s ex-boyfriend, and current best friend and bandmate pipes in. “Homophobic, racist mingers?”

  Willie grins. “Don’t know what that means but sounds accurate!”

  “You know, we are saving Alex’s life, right? Literally?” Bobby Wilson chimes in, Alex’s other best friend from his position behind them. They are currently hiding behind a table laden with sweets of all kinds, and it makes Reggie, the last of Alex’s best friend-cum-bandmates’ mouth water. 

  “I still can’t believe that his parents are forcing him to marry a girl!” Julie exclaims, ponytail bobbing as she speaks. Luke adds, “Not just any girl, but Carrie fucking Wilson.” 

  “My fucking cousin!” Bobby says, looking behind to check if anyone’s there. There is, but they’re all either part of the caterer’s group, or the waiters – they are currently outside a church, where the reception will be held, post wedding. The attendees, the families, everyone – are inside the church, for the wedding.

  “Hey, is Grandma Ruth really that sick?” Reggie finally asks, his eyes diverting from the sweets. Luke smiles sweetly at him. “I’m glad you finally decided to join us, Reginald.” 

  Reggie fails to catch the sarcasm in his tone, and he smiles brightly. Luke rolls his eyes, but a faint smile teases the corners of his lips. “Yeah, she really has stage four cancer.” 

  Julie says, “Poor Ruth.” 

  Luke huffs, “I don’t care that she’s dying – she shouldn’t fucking blackmail her grandson like that! Alex, honey, I’m dying. My dying wish, you ask? Marry someone. No, not your boyfriend of four years! Marry a girl, dummy. Homosexuality is a sin!” 

  Bobby adds, “Not just any girl, but your best friend’s cousin! Whose probably into Flynn, but, yeah, whatever.” 

  Julie smiles brightly at the mention of her best friend. “Oh, she definitely is.” 

  Reggie’s brows quirk. “I thought she was still into Nick.” 

  Bobby shakes his head. “They broke up last summer.” 

  Willie clears his throat, finally gaining some confidence. “He shouldn’t be marrying the wrong girl.” He exhales, and adds, as an afterthought, “Or any girl.” 

  “You two should be walking down the aisle, Willie.” Julie says, resting a hand on his shoulder. He nods, grateful for her support. 

  He remembers this morning, when he was at the grocery store, buying as many buckets of chocolate ice cream as he could fit in his arms. Suddenly, he had felt a warm hand wrap around the back of his throat, and he let out a yelp, dropping all the buckets. 

  He remembers thinking that the universe was against him. First, it’s the day of his boyfriend’s wedding, and along with that, someone’s here to kill him. Well, he thought, it’s better to die than – 

  “Willie!” A familiar voice exclaimed, and of course, it’s Julie – he realized that the hand that he thought was here to murder him, belonged to her. She was dressed in a long, pink, A-Line dress, that complimented her skin tone perfectly and – suddenly, Willie understood that it was a bridesmaid’s dress. Yep, she’s Carrie’s bridesmaid, along with Flynn. 

  Willie wondered if she was here to rub salt on his wound. 

  “What do you want?” He had mumbled, averting his gaze from her dress. Sure, it’s a pretty dress, but it reminds him of Alex, because he has a hoodie that he adores in the same colour. (It’s in Willie’s closet now, and he makes a mental note to burn it.) 

  “We have a plan.” She said, conspiratorially. 

  Willie sighed, leaning down to pick up the fallen containers of ice cream. “I’m not in the mood, Jules.” 

  She grinned, evilly. Or as evilly as you could while having an angelic face. 

  Sure, it took her a while to convince him to crash his boyfriend’s wedding, but on the way here, he felt as if it was worth it. Julie helped sneak him in, since he doesn’t have an invite – and he found the rest of Alex’s friends – Luke, Reggie, and Bobby waiting for him. 

  Now, as Carrie’s family emerges from the church doors, he doesn’t feel that way anymore. 

  “God, I think I’m gonna throw up just by looking at them.” Luke murmurs, while Julie slaps his shoulder. “Don’t say that, they look very… colourful.” 

  Bobby snorts. 

  Carrie’s family includes her parents, two of her cousin sisters and an aunt – and they are all dressed in pastel yellow. To be really honest, that colour looks like vomit. They stand in a circle in front of the church doors, and Willie notices her aunt rolling her eyes at the waiters. He sighs. This is the same aunt who told Carrie that ‘oh, honey, it’s just a phase’, when she came out as bisexual. 

  “Guys, guys, guys!” 

  Willie sees his cousin, Flynn, running in their direction, and stopping at their table. She huffs, catching her breath and he notices that she’s wearing the same dress that Julie is. 

  “Carrie is losing her shit, dude.” She says, once she’s breathing normally again. “Why?” Julie asks, concerned. 

  “Probably because she doesn’t wanna marry Alex? I don’t know, but she yelled at me for eating!” She exclaims, an annoyed expression taking over her face. 

  Willie and Bobby exchange a look – they all know that Carrie can get a little intense sometimes – she doesn’t mean harm, but on a day like this, you can’t really hold it against her. 

  “Where is she?” Julie asks, alarmed. 

  “She’s in the back. Her mom misplaced her veil, and its total chaos out there. Also, her gown looks like a fucking pastry.” 

  Everyone’s eyes widen, and Flynn sighs, looking away. “I hate everything.” 

  Willie knows that she’s feeling just the way he is. 

  Julie stands up. “Come on, let’s help her. And boys?” She points a finger in their direction. “Stick to the fucking plan.” 

  Everyone nods rapidly, and Reggie whispers, “Yes, mam.” 

  She kisses Luke, whispering something in his ear, and squeezes Willie’s shoulder, giving him a sympathetic look, before running off in the opposite direction with Flynn. 

  Watching Julie and Luke, Willie is suddenly overpowered by a memory, a memory that was gathering dust in his brain. He remembers a cold, dark winter morning in their – his and Alex’s – apartment. It was last year, and their first morning in that apartment, in their home. They were nineteen and couldn’t get enough of each other – even after three years of being together. Somehow, somewhere they felt as if an invisible string was pulling them closer and closer, until they merged into one. 

  He remembers Alex combing his fingers through Willie’s hair, and whispering, “Is it crazy if I say that this is everything that I’ve ever wanted in life?” 

  He had smiled, eyes filled to the brim with euphoria. “No, then that would mean that I’m crazy.” 

  “We’re both crazy.” 

  “Maybe.” He had pulled him closer, loving the way Alex buried his face in the crook of his neck. 

  “Willie?” Alex softly asked, drawing patterns on his bare skin. 

  “Hmm?” 

  “I want to wake up next to you every single day. Like, I don’t ever wanna be without you,” 

  “Me, too.” He had said, then adding, “I don’t see myself marrying if not you.” 

  He could feel his boyfriend’s grin. “Not gonna lie, I’ve thought about it. A little.” 

  “A little?” 

  “Okay, I’ve planned it all out.” They both laughed, and Willie felt as if he was flying. 

  Alex continued, “I imagine us getting married on a beautiful summer day – on the beach. Where we met all those years ago. Remember?” 

  Willie smiled. “How could I forget? I will love Flynn forever for bringing me to Julie’s sweet sixteen – I never thought that I’d meet my soulmate that day.” 

  “Yeah. I imagine Luke to be my best man, and Flynn to be yours. Julie and Carrie would be our groomsmaids, yep, I invented that – and Reggie and Bobby could be the other best men. It’s a little messy, because I love them all so much and I can’t choose – but yeah.” 

  “Funny that your ex-boyfriend will be your best man at our wedding.” 

  “Shut up, Willie.” 

  “Carlos could be the ring bearer.” 

  “I think he’s a little too old for that.” 

  “Well, you have a point. But he’s gonna be pissed if he doesn’t get a title like his sister does.” 

  “All right, he’ll be the ring bearer.” 

  “We could have a skateboard shaped cake.” 

  “We will… think about it.” 

  “And we won’t need a band!” 

  “I’m not playing at my own wedding!” 

  “Well, Bobby could take your place. I’m sure he won’t mind taking a day off his solo touring.” 

  “Yeah, that sounds nice.” 

  As they went over every possibility, every dream, the world melted away and all Willie could see were the oceans in Alex’s eyes. 

  Luke’s voice dissipates the haze of nostalgia around Willie’s brain. “Yep, Carrie’s family went inside.” 

  Bobby nods. “Okay, Willie, you stay with Reggie and Luke – I’ll go inside first and distract everyone, and y’all will come at my signal.” With that, he runs towards the church. 

  “Uh… what is his signal…” Willie trails off. Luke and Reggie exchange a panicked look, as Reggie says, “I’m sure we’ll figure it out! Besides – oh my god, are those flamingos?” 

  Willie and Luke’s eyes dart to the church door, where a bunch of flamingos – Carrie’s favorite bird, apparently – are on the loose and the waiters and the staff are running around trying to catch them. 

  “Boys, I think that’s our signal.” Luke says, grabbing their hands and dragging them towards the back of the church, where the girls had previously disappeared into. 

  Luke sneezes, and Willie absentmindedly whispers a ‘bless you.’ He shifts, saying, “There’s so much dirt here! It’s like nobody cares about my allergies!” 

  “I’m sure nobody in Canada will ever care about your allergies, Patterson.” Flynn hisses.

  The trio are currently hiding behind a curtain, the lilac shades sickening them. “Well, you wouldn’t be in this position if Alex’s lovely bride-to-be didn’t uninvite me!” Willie exclaims, looking around to make sure nobody is nearby. 

  “I’m sure she has a very good reason!” Flynn says, and Luke rolls his eyes, saying, “You’re saying that as if you don’t know Carrie. She’s hyper fixating on this wedding to distract herself from the fact that her parents will never accept her for who she is, from her fear about the fact that she’ll never get someone who sees and loves her for who she is and right now, she believes that this wedding would gain her parents’ favour, that somehow they’d be okay with her being bisexual if she’s married a man, a gay man at that, too – and now she’s doing everything in her power to make sure nothing gets fucked up.” 

  Willie and Flynn sharply look at Luke. 

  “Dude, that was deep.” He whispers. Flynn dabs the corner of her right eye. “You should be a therapist, bro.” 

  “I know, bro.” He grins. 

  Willie can’t stop a smile from breaking out on his face. He turns back to the scene in front of him, and his heart seizes because there’s Alex, dressed in a perfect tuxedo, with his hair perfectly done, with a perfect smile on his face, and Willie realizes that that is not the man he loves. 

  The man standing in front of him looks too pristine, too immaculate. It’s almost as if he is being strung up by invisible puppet strings, but his face doesn’t give away any of that – it’s absolutely blank, and Willie would have thought that the man in the front is not real if he hadn’t seen his eyes. His eyes, which houses cyclones, cyclones being fed by the apprehension, the fear, the anger, the sadness that he must be feeling inside. His eyes, that Willie loves to see first thing in the morning, showing off the parts of his soul that he is desperately trying to shield. 

  Willie wonders if he’ll see him standing behind the curtains. He probably won’t. Willie’s at the back of the room, and he’s at the front, waiting, waiting, waiting. For a moment, Willie wonders if Carrie is going to show up at all – because the wedding was supposed to start half an hour ago, and it doesn’t make sense why a person who has never been late in her entire life, would be late on her wedding day. 

  He doesn’t have to wonder long, though. The organ starts to play ‘Here Comes the Bride’, and honestly it sounds more like a death march. Willie is reminded, yet again, of another reason why this is not what Alex wants – he wants to play ‘Lover’ by Taylor Swift at his wedding. 

  Willie takes in a sharp breath when Carrie enters. She looks like a pageant queen – wearing a beautiful, white, classic dress. In one hand, she holds her dad’s arm, and in the other, there is a bouquet of daisies. 

  Flynn whispers. “I have to go. Boys, do not mess this up. Or I swear I’ll kill you.” 

  As the duo watch her run to the front of the room, Willie whispers, “Does she know about Carrie’s big, fat crush?” 

  Luke snorts. “You think so? Come on, let’s sit. They won’t be able to see us here.” 

  As they crouch down and make their way to the benches, Willie casts one last look at Alex, and he knows, he knows that Alex wishes it was Willie walking down the aisle instead.

     “Speak now, or forever hold your peace.” The preacher says, and Willie’s heart erupts into a frenzy. As the room goes completely silent, Luke whispers, “That’s your cue, Willie.” 

  Ignoring his anxiety, he stands up with his hands shaking, and his brain telling him to just fucking run out the doors. 

  Alex’s eyes widen, relief flooding his features, and for a moment, he looks like the real Alex again. Willie catches Julie and Flynn’s eyes, who are standing beside Carrie, and they nod at him, enthusiastically. But the bride, Carrie – she looks absolutely horrified. And so does all the other people in this room, including Alex’s parents, his grandma Ruth, and Carrie’s parents, too. 

  From Alex’s right side, Reggie and Bobby give him encouraging looks, and finally, he averts his eyes back to the man he loves. 

  But he can’t say anything. He feels as if he’s frozen in time, and his mind completely blanks out. For a moment he wonders if this is his rock bottom. 

  But Luke comes to the rescue, thrusting a guitar in his hands, and breaking him out of his trance. “I remember you told me that you can always sing, even if the world was ending. So, I brought this along, as backup.” 

  It’s true. Music is a part of his soul, much like it is Alex’s. Music is what connected them in the first place, and music is what still keeps them connected now. 

  He positions the guitar, and notices that it’s Luke’s acoustic guitar. He strums it, and finally, his mind comes back to himself. He keeps his eyes trained on that of Alex, and he watches the storm of emotions in his irises. 

  “I am not the kind of guy, who should be rudely barging in on a white veiled occasion…” He sings, loving how Taylor Swift has written a song for every occasion.

  “But you are not the kind of boy, who should be marrying the wrong girl!” He sings and hears loud gasps around the room – he knows that people expected him to be in love with Carrie or something. 

  “Or any girl!” Reggie adds, and Alex grins, and that gives him the motivation to continue. 

  “So, don't say yes, run away now. I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door… Don't wait or say a single vow – You need to hear me out, and they said speak now!” 

  He drags the ‘now’ for as long as he can, because he knows that the silence that will follow will be excruciating. And it is. Alex just stares at him, an unreadable expression on his face. 

  Willie finally looks at Carrie, and when their eyes meet, she gives him an odd look. He half expected her to kill him, but the way she looks at him, it’s almost as if she’s relieved. 

  Alex clears his throat, the sound piercing through the silence of the room. Whispers arise, and Willie exchanges a look with Luke, who asks him, “You want me to dig you a hole to die?” 

  Before he can nod, Alex says, “Uh…” He fiddles with his hands, before finally saying, “Fuck it”, and untying his tie. His mother gasps, and his father stands up, but he raises a hand. 

  He locks eyes with Willie, and his world spins on its axis. 

  “You are not the kind of guy to be rudely barging in on a white veiled occasion…But I am not the kind of boy… who should be marrying the wrong girl… or any girl!” Alex sings in that raspy voice of his, and Willie feels his heart soar. He can’t help the grin from escaping on his face, and he knows that his eyes are what Julie calls, ‘heart eyes.’ Luke grabs the guitar from Willie’s hand and starts playing along. 

  “And you'll say let's run away now, and I'll meet you when I'm out of my tux at the back door,” 

  Alex walks down the aisle, but suddenly remembers something, or rather, someone. He turns around, locking eyes with Carrie, and Willie can’t see what he’s saying, but Carrie smiles a big, soft one – one probably no one has ever seen on her face, and he sees her mouth ‘go.’ 

  “Baby, I didn't say my vows, so glad you were around; when they said speak now!” 

  He finishes, and stands in front of Willie, and Willie knows that the both of them can feel the air electrifying between them.   

  He turns, facing his grandmother. “Grandma, I’m sorry, but you’re 93, and I’m 20. I’m not going to give up my life for you to live. I love you, though. Mom, Dad, I’m truly sad that I’m not what you wanted. But I’m not gonna apologize for being myself, nor am I gonna apologize for loving who I want to. This is my life, and maybe it’s time that I start acting like it. I can’t keep wasting my life to please you. You – you should love me for who I am, that’s what good parents do.” Alex’s voice cracks, and Willie intertwines their fingers. Alex squeezes his hand. 

  Carrie’s mom stands up, shaking her head. “No, no, no… you do not get to ruin my daughter’s wedding –” 

  Alex’s father stands beside her, his face matching the shade of Carrie’s red lipstick. “I will not accept this –” 

  “Will?” Alex whispers, his eyes trained on his father. 

  “Yeah?” 

  “Run.” 

  With that, Alex tightens his hold on Willie’s hand, and the both of them run down the aisle, and outside. Willie can hear an uproar behind him, but it fades to background noise behind the thump of his heart. 

  “That was so fucking romantic!” Alex exclaims, as they come to a stop before Willie’s car. 

  “I just…” 

  “Wait – I’m sorry, Willie. I shouldn’t have put you through that. I should’ve fought more; I should’ve run away or something. That was not okay. I’m a twenty-year-old adult, and I should – I should – learn to be it, and not hurt any – anyone –” 

  “Hey, hey, hey…” Willie says, stepping closer to Alex. “It’s alright. They’re your parents. It’s not your fault that you want their approval. But I just want you to know that I love you, all of you, for who you are. And all of us do – Luke, Julie, Bobby, Reggie, Flynn, and even Carrie. We all love you, for who you are, and we’re always gonna be by your side.” 

  He smiles, cupping Willie’s face. “Thank you. Thank you so much. I – I love you so fucking much.” He kisses Willie, and the latter feels like he is floating amongst the stars. 

  “That – everything inside – from this tux to the decorations was horrible. I’m really glad that you… you know, stopped it.” Alex says, rubbing his thumb around Willie’s cheek. 

  He shrugs. “Well, it was your friends’ idea.” 

  “Of course it was.” 

  “Guys! Guys, guys, guys!” 

  Willie and Alex break out of their embrace at Carrie’s voice, who is currently running towards them, her dress bunched in her hands. Flynn is following her, holding her veil in her arms. Julie, Luke, Bobby, and Reggie are behind them, and they all have a look of panic plastered on their faces. 

  Flynn yells. “Carrie might’ve told your and her parents to fuck off, and your grandma to just die already, and so there’s a fair chance that we’re all gonna get killed, now that everyone knows that we’re all behind this.” 

  “Also, I threw red wine at our aunt’s dress, Carrie!” Bobby yells. 

  “I might have told your parents that they’re failures, and Julie and I are your real parents, Alex!” Luke yells. 

  “Also, Flynn and I are getting married!” Carrie yells. 

  Alex’s eyes widen, and he looks at Willie. “I think we all need to run.” 

  Willie nods, and he looks around. Maybe they will get killed (probably not), and maybe everything is a little crazy right now – but what he knows is that all of them are a family, and that he’d do anything for them. He also knows that Alex is worth everything, and that someday, they will get married, just the way they want, with the people that love them just the way they are. 

  Plus, is it weird to say that he kind of feels like Taylor Swift right now?

[masonscig]

holiday

pairing | mason x aimee lin

word count | 2.5k

warnings | cursing, innuendos [it’s mason and aimee u know what to expect]

author’s note | so our friend group decided to do a little secret santa type gift exchange and i got the lovely @masonsfangs – i couldn’t NOT write maimee !!! not gonna get super sappy on main but i’m so grateful for your friendship, becky and i love you so so so much!

•─────────────────•

Out of all the fucking times he has to run out of cigarettes, it’s the moment he needs them the most.

His hands were quivering ever so slightly in his pockets, but no one would be able to tell unless they were looking for it. And even then, he was hidden by the shade of the door frame – not dark enough, but it’d do.

Why the fuck did he agree to a holiday party? In what world was he the type to go to parties, much less celebrate anything?

The laughter of the surrounding agents, mingling in clusters around the room, pounded at his eardrums like a mallet to its surface. The music flooding through the speakers was even worse, grating at him so intensely that he could feel the individual droplets of sweat start to bead across his palms.

A century’s worth of annual holiday festivities at the agency, and he chooses to attend when there’s ample sound technology to add to the already irritating sound of each voice – he could normally block them out if he needed to, but in a crowd this size? He was lucky if he could manage a couple of seconds where he could hear himself think.

He wasn’t looking for her, no matter how many times Farah tried pestering him about it.

“You got here pretty early, Mason,” Farah started, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “It’s almost like you’re… waiting for somebody –”

“I’m not,” he snapped – two words were an effort to say.

He was straining himself trying to adjust to his surroundings, but it was like no matter how hard he focused, the noise was still deafening, still restricting.

“Well, tough luck. You know she’s fashionably late to everything,” she said. “Said so herself.”

Farah waggled her arm in front of Mason’s eyes, flashing the bright screen of her phone, the string of charms nearly striking his face.

“Yeah, I get it.” He’d been at the party for nearly a fucking hour and she hadn’t shown. He was growing more and more frustrated with each minute.

By the time a few agents had loaded up the table with platters of both human and… not so human foods, he was ready to bolt. The smell of the sweets mixed with the eggnog was overwhelming.

He’d barely been able to manage a couple minutes at Haley’s Bakery each time he went before he dipped out because he craved fresh air.

“Mason,” Nat called from a couple feet away, approaching him with furrowed brows. “You look pale. Are you feeling alright?”

“I’m fine. I’ll manage.” Two word sentences were all he could handle – he hoped Nate wouldn’t notice the slight waver in his voice. He did.

“This isn’t an obligation, by any means. You’re free to leave at any time –”

The side door burst open, and she strode through, her heartbeat faster than normal. A soft flush painted her cheeks, likely from the frigid December winds.

Mason pushed away from the wall, leaving his shaded door frame for the first time that night, completely ignoring Nat’s vocal realization as she figured out why he was there in the first place.

Aimee approached him, still panting from the effort. “Thank god. I thought I ran here for nothing.”

Something about her was different – a good different.

His eyes raked over every inch of her, his nausea fading away as he settled on each change.

Wild curls free from their normal elastic constraint, cheap stud earrings traded for tasteful emeralds, lashes thinly coated and curled, lips a soft rouge – even the flannel was traded for a tinsel lined sweater.

“What’re you looking at?” She asked, lip raised in annoyance.

“Who do you think, sweetheart?” Quick flirtatious retorts were the fastest way to get him feeling like himself again.

She rolled her eyes, trying to hold back a smile. “Oh, shut up.”

His stomach churned as he watched her take a few steps toward the main area. She stopped when he didn’t follow, sneakers squeaking against the linoleum as she swiveled around to throw a look his way.

“You coming?”

He shrugged, hands still trembling in his pockets. “I’m good here.”

Her brows pushed together, brown eyes (almost black as the night sky) flitting across his face.

He should’ve fucking lied better. He didn’t need her worrying and bitching at him because he was a little uncomfortable.

She closed the gap between them, sliding an arm around his waist. “Let’s go.”

“Damn, you really wanna do it outside? You’re adventurous today,” he teased, shoulders instantly relaxing as soon as he felt her hand slip underneath the hem of his henley, cool fingertips grazing the small of his back.

“Maybe,” she grinned, tugging on his torso, leading him to the back doors.

“You haven’t said a word to anyone else here,” he said, planting his feet.

“Since when do you care?” She laughed, flicking a thick curl off her shoulders, clearly not used to the feeling of it on her neck. “You don’t want to be here anyways.”

“Fuck off. I’m just trying to save you from some weird tension with Rebecca.”

She huffed. “Fine. I’m saying hey to Farah, Nat, and… Rebecca, and we’re dipping. Meet me outside.”

He shot her a look, and she shot one right back, challenging him. “Sure,” Mason said finally, shrugging, then strode towards the door with a second glance.

The feeling of the freezing air against his exposed skin was painful to say the least, but holy shit did the knot in his chest vanish the second the night sky was in view.

Within minutes, Aimee pushed through the doors, keys in hand.

“Seems like you were looking for a way out,” he said, trailing behind her.

“Don’t flatter yourself, sunshine. I can think of quite a few places I’d rather be than here,” she winked, unlocking her car and slipping in.

He perched against the side of her hood, feeling the rumble of the engine beneath his hip. Normally he’d be fumbling for a cigarette right about then, but Aimee’s pulse in his ears was the perfect comedown.

The window squeaked as it rolled down, her lips just barely visible over its edge. “Dude, get in. It’s freezing.”

He took a step towards her, pressing his forearm on the top of the door, using it as leverage to lazily bend down. “Where are you taking me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she teased, her breath curling and twisting in translucent streams around them, their faces close enough that he felt the warmth of it. “It’s a surprise, dummy.”

He pushed away from the window, making no hurry to walk around the front of her car. Through the windshield, he could see her reel her arm back and motion like she was going to lay on the horn, but the sound never came – a muffled cackle met his ears instead.

He settled into the passenger’s seat, wondering how the fuck it felt colder inside of her car than outside of it. “Jesus Christ it’s freezing.”

He kicked a few wrappers out of his way so he could spread his legs comfortably.

“Once we start moving it should warm up.”

“Or we could heat it up on our own,” he said, head lolling to the side, a lazy grin slowly spreading.

“Oh, keep it in your pants,” she laughed, tossing him a glance over her shoulder as she backed out of the parking spot.

The ride there was calm. The stuttering purr of her engine, the soft gusts of warm air, the faint sweet smell of her gloss – sensations he could handle. Hell, sensations he’d come to tolerate.

Aimee’s quiet hum was the loudest of them all, but he didn’t mind it, oddly enough. He found himself timing her soft intakes of breath between hums with the hypnotising cadence of her heartbeat.

Aimee was a symphony without even realizing it.

“Hey, I’ve got a pack of cigarettes in the glove box and a lighter in my cup holder. Knock yourself out,” she said, breaking him out of his train of thought.

“Thanks,” he murmured, reaching for the lighter and the handle of the compartment.

He placed it between his lips, flicked the lighter, and inhaled, but… he didn’t need to. Force of habit, he guessed.

She pulled into a gravelly patch on the outskirts of Wayhaven. He was familiar with the quieter parts of town, but even this terrain was new to him.

“It’s just down this path,” she said, tossing a blanket over her shoulder while walking away.

He flicked the cigarette onto the ground, grinding his heel into the bud without a second thought. With a few brisk strides, he caught up to her, slinging his arm around her neck over her thick mass of hair.

“You look good with your hair down.”

She tried holding back a smile. “I didn’t do it for you, but I’m glad I have your stamp of approval.”

“I know you didn’t do it for me. I’m enjoying it, though.”

She laughed, her free hand raising to grip his forearm. “I’m happy to distract.”

“Distract me from what, sweetheart? You haven’t even kissed me yet,” he teased, leaning in to speak into her ear.

A slight shiver made its way up her back, but she quickly masked it. “You were uncomfortable.”

They reached the clearing, the edge of the cliff open, overlooking Wayhaven. Aimee laid the blanket down and plopped down wordlessly, patting the seat next to her.

She still hadn’t explained what she meant, and he was too prideful to ask.

He sunk down onto the cold blanket, dangling his legs over the edge alongside hers. They weren’t up too high – far enough that most of the stars were visible, but close enough that the carolers strolling downtown were mere background noise.

The wind whipped at Aimee’s curls, strands tossed around her face like a halo of coils, the scent of her shampoo filling the space between them.

“Your face was contorted when I walked in. Like you’d sucked a lemon or something,” she said, kicking her feet.

“I was fine.”

“You were not.”

“Yeah, I was.”

“You know I’m right.”

He scoffed, leaning back onto his elbows. “No.”

“Whatever you say, honey,” she teased, leaning over, shoving her arm against his, but he didn’t budge.

He eased back onto his elbows, nonchalant. “I didn’t really care to be there. You’re right about that much, detective.”

“Ouch. That almost hurt,” Aimee laughed, pulling her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “‘Thank you, Aimee’,” she said in a voice like she’d swallowed jagged rocks – her worst impression of him yet.

He grumbled in response, settling into his propped up position as the crowds thinned downtown. He wasn’t sure how much time passed before she spoke again.

“They’re gonna be turning on the lights, soon,” she said offhandedly, voice barely above a whisper. Like she didn’t want to interrupt whatever was about to happen.

The lights caught his attention before he could think of a quip. Line after line of Christmas lights lit up, a net of stars hovering above the businesses below. The wind must’ve shaken some of the wires – the breeze made them nearly shimmer.

Nothing was said for a while – the hum of the occasional car passing and the rustling of the tree branches was comforting enough.

Mason caught himself stealing a couple glances her way. Something was still a little different about her. Something he couldn’t put a finger on, but it was undoubtedly there.

“They’re like stars,” he murmured, feeling a little different himself as he watched a shit-eating grin stretch across her face.

He was more surprised with his own reaction than Aimee’s childlike expression at the lights.

“Is that holiday cheer I’m detecting?” She said, whipping around, shifting her weight to her hands so she could lean closer to him.

He shifted, reaching out to her, wrapping a curl around his knuckle. He tugged just hard enough to elicit a soft gasp, followed by her smirk, one that was becoming so familiar to him that he wondered for a split second if to others they looked like mirror images of each other.

“I don’t know, are you gonna show me the true meaning of Christmas or what?” He asked, pulling her even closer – so close that their cold puffs of breath intermingled.

“I would, but I don’t feel like getting arrested for public indecency tonight,” she laughed, her breath a soft gust against his face.

“Then why’d you bring me out here?” He asked, dropping his hand, shifting back to lean on both of his elbows.

She shrugged and turned back to face the town. “Thought I’d show you this place in case you wanted to come back. The warehouse rooftop might get old someday.”

His brows furrowed. She’d never gone out of her way to do something like this for him. She just wasn’t the type.

It’s what he liked about her.

Shit was simple. No complications. Just good, casual sex.

But this was… different. She was different.

And then it dawned on him

That’s what was different about her – holiday cheer? Whatever the fuck she wanted to call it, Aimee had a lot of it.

She didn’t have to say it out loud. Her expression was enough proof.

“Rooftop works fine.”

He didn’t know why he said it. He wasn’t upset with her for bringing him there. He was just… taken by surprise.

Not a bad surprise at all. Just unexpected. Kind of… nice.

She’d brought him somewhere that meant a lot to her, completely unprompted, and didn’t try to jump his bones. 

She rolled her eyes, sighing heavily. “This is the thanks I get for trying to get you to branch out.”

He sensed a shift in her demeanor – she was definitely a little upset with him. He hated damage control in most situations, but with her he’d rather do it before it blew into a bigger fucking mess he wouldn’t be able to clean up.

“Aimee,” he said, waiting for her to turn back and look at him. “Thank you.”

He held her gaze, knowing good and well it was hard for him to convey sincerity, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position, their faces close.

A genuine smile stretched her lips thin in a wide grin, eyes crinkling at the corners. Aimee traced the pad of her thumb over the stubble on his chin. “Don’t mention it.”

She tugged his chin forward, lips meeting his in an enveloping kiss, Mason’s experience at the party long forgotten, cigarettes a distant thought.

He’d humor her by indulging in at least the reflective aspect of the holidays.

The shittiest parts of Wayhaven couldn’t touch his best moments with Aimee.

––––

[ri-ahhh]

idk if you’ve heard the song toxic by kehlani but maybe you could write something based off that song where a tipsy y/n calls up her on and off ex (grayson) to come over 👀 i love your writing btw

It’s already late when your best friend Fallon knocks sharply on the front door of your apartment. You had texted her not even half an hour ago, all up in your feels after you saw Grayson’s Snapchat story of him and some friends at the beach, an unfamiliar and pretty blonde girl tucked under his arm in one of the photos. She had responded immediately, letting you know she was on her way.

Feet clad in your fuzzy pink slippers, the strings of Grayson’s old hoodie keeping the hood cinched around your face tightly, you heave yourself off your comfy couch and trudge over to the front door to let her in. When you swing it open, she’s standing there with her hands full with her purse in one and an obvious brown paper bag in the other.

You stand aside silently, letting her pass the threshold and dump her shit on the kitchen island. “You didn’t have to bring alcohol, Fal, you know I don’t drink like that anymore.”

“Exactly,” Fallon deadpans, whipping out the bottle from the bag. “You stopped drinking because of Grayson Dolan. I think you owe it to yourself to let yourself start drinking because of him, too.”

You push the hood off your head and take the blue bottle from her when she offers it to you. Your brows raise. “You bought me Don Julio to cry over my ex? Isn't this, like, $50 for a bottle?”

Fallon waves a hand dismissively. “That’s exactly why I got it; you’re not gonna cry over your ex. Wine of any kind is crying juice. Vodka makes you a dumb bitch, and bottom shelf tequila makes you cry, a dumb bitch, and a ho. You need the good stuff, so we can bring out the bad bitch. Who can talk about her ex, get it all out, without crying again, or texting him, or posting a thirst trap.”

You roll your eyes. “That was only one time I accidentally sent you that nude instead of Grayson. And we were still together, so it didn't count as being a ho. I was just giving my boyfriend good spank bank material.”

Fallon is already rummaging through your cabinets, in search of the nearly-forgotten shot glasses. “Babe, you know I support every woman’s right to be a ho as much as she wants, especially after a breakup, but this is Grayson we’re talking about. You two were so into each other, it was toxic. You fought all the time, and by your own admission fixed everything with sex. You’re addicted, and as your best friend, I’m inserting myself here to keep you from talking to him anymore.”

She turns around, two little glasses in hand, and looks at you then the bottle in your hands pointedly. You give in and pull out the stopper and the Don Julio Blanco to her. 

“Now, I’m not gonna get you drunk. But we’re gonna get enough in you to loosen up that tongue, you’re gonna get all your Grayson shit out before I leave, and we’re gonna go to bed happy and feeling better,” she says matter-of-factly, pouring the clear liquid into the glasses. She hands one of them to you. “Cheers, bitch.”

Right before you clink and tap, Fallon’s phone buzzes. She leans over to check it where it’s resting on the counter, and her eyes widen. “Shit...”

“What?” you ask concernedly. Fallon puts down her glass and starts typing madly.

“It’s my downstairs neighbor. She said Roxy’s been barking for nearly an hour straight and she’s gonna file another noise complaint if I don’t get there to let her out.” She stops for a moment and looks at you. “Shit. I’ll get evicted if I get another one. Like actually evicted.”

Fallon’s dog Roxy has serious attachment issues, which is usually extremely annoying, but right now you're thanking her. You love Fallon to death, but this isn’t exactly the friend therapy you needed or expected when you called her up to come over. 

“Dude, go! I promise I’m fine. I don’t need to worry about you being homeless on top of my shit.”

“Okay. I’m sorry, babe, I promise I’ll FaceTime you as soon as I’m home.” She’s gathering her things, leaving the tequila open on the counter. “Make good choices, please. Love you!”

“Love you!” you call out behind her as she rushes through the door.

The door slams, and it leaves a ringing silence almost as loud as your best friend. You look around at your suddenly empty apartment, your eyes landing on the still-full shot glasses.

What the hell? You snatch one of them off the counter and down it with a grimace. Admittedly, it was the best tequila you’ve ever had, but it’s still tequila. The burn travels down your esophagus and settles in your near-empty belly. The sensation reminds you that you’ve hardly eaten today, and one shot was probably more than enough considering your lack of food and the fact that you’ve probably reverted to being an extreme lightweight after not drinking for so long. 

You and Grayson have barely been broken up for a month, and despite how hard it’s been, you haven't been tempted to touch more than a glass of wine or an occasional Whiteclaw if the stress of the day was too much. But it never felt right to have more. Grayson is still a part of you, even though that’s part of the reason you broke up to begin with. The two of you were becoming codependent on each other, which was turning into jealousy and neediness that built up into huge, explosive fights and ended with you fucking on whatever surface was nearest.

It was, indeed, a vicious, toxic cycle. Even though you tell yourself it’s for the best, you also can’t shake the feeling that the two of you aren’t done. That there’s still hope for your relationship, especially now that you’ve spent time apart.

Fallon’s tactics have backfired as you stomp back to the couch and snatch your phone off the cushion. Julio has given you the liquid courage you need to do exactly what Fallon told you not to.

I miss u

A classic. You wish you had it in you to be more creative, but the simple truth of it is: you do miss him. You miss his laugh. You miss his smell. You miss coming home to him, either here or at his house, after a long day. You miss his kisses. You miss his dick. 

There’s little shame for yourself in admitting that. You used it to solve your problems, but you were blind to that before the breakup. Everything is more clear now, especially the fact that you still love him deeply. 

Suddenly, your phone starts buzzing. You don’t even look at the caller ID, assuming it’s Fallon calling impatiently from her car. 

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

The deep voice on the other end of the phone startles you, and you hold it away from your face to see his name in big, white letters. No longer ‘Gray’ with some heart emojis, but ‘Grayson Dolan.’

You swallow hard and put the phone back to your ear. “Uh, hi, Hey.”

There’s a beat of silence before he speaks again. “I, uh, got your text.”

You don’t say anything, picking at a piece of fluff on your slipper.

“I miss you too. Like, a lot. Too much.”

You bite your lip tightly, chewing it nervously. You hadn’t expected him to fucking call. Calling and texting had two very different vibes. Over text, you would probably say something cute and calm and ask if the two of you could get coffee tomorrow.

But a call? You can hear his voice for the first time in weeks. It makes you want to jump through the phone and wrap him in your arms, to cry in his chest -- from happiness or sadness, you’re not sure. Either way, this is the closest you’ve felt to him in so long, and it makes you weak.

Grayson may be loud, but he’s good at shutting up when he wants an answer. It’s one of the things that drove you most crazy when you fought. He’d yell his piece, then stare at you until you had a retort. Sometimes you did, sometimes you didn't; you were always both at fault, for the most part. 

You take a deep breath and find your voice at last. “Me too. I...I haven’t been doing so great. Without you.”

She hears him sigh. “Me neither.” He pauses, and you wait anxiously. “Look, I’ll be honest. I was with Ethan when I got your text and he...well, he doesn’t think it’s a good idea that I called you. Or that we’re talking to each other, period.”

He leaves his sentence hanging, almost like an open-ended question without phrasing it as such. You can't stop the laugh from bubbling past your lips as you shake your head. “Fallon was just over at my place and said the same thing. So that either makes us really fucking stupid, or our best friends just don’t understand.”

“Famous last words, either way,” Grayson chuckled with you. You can hear crickets chirping in the background, and imagine he’s sitting outside by the pool. The two of you used to like to do that together.

You decide to follow his example and head out to your balcony, plopping down in one of the plastic chairs with your knees tucked to your chest. “What do you think about us talking, then?”

He doesn't miss a beat. “I think I miss you. And I love you. And I know I fucked up a lot, but I’ve been actually reflecting on everything that was wrong with us and I think I know now what I can do better. This time apart has been really fucking hard, but I think it was a good thing. For me, anyways.”

Your lip finds its way between your teeth again. You clamp it hard to hold back the shake in your voice. “Me too, Gray. I wasn’t perfect by any means, either. But as long as we both know what we need to work on, I want to try again if you do.”

“I do want that,” Grayson sighs, relief flooding his voice. He laughs that laugh you missed so much. “You have no idea how happy that makes me. I’ve been driving E crazy having these meltdowns all the time thinking about how I fucked up so bad that I wouldn’t ever get you back.”

You smile into your knees, and decide in that moment to risk it for the sake of your biscuit, which throbs at the mere thought and sound of him. “Is it too early to mention that I miss all of you?”

“Careful, or I might think you only want me back for my body.”

“I mean, I definitely had to use my imagination a few times without the real thing. I only had to think of you, though. How good you fuck me.”

This right here is probably where the tequila is coming in to play. Fallon was wrong again; you’re about to go Full Ho, having phone sex with your kind-of ex.

His breath picks up nearly imperceptibly, but you can also hear the smirk in his voice. “How many times did I make you squirt in the tiny house shed that one time, baby? That was so hot.”

“Mm, it was so good, Gray. I remember you had to carry me inside to your bed because I couldn’t walk. And then you fucked me nice and hard on your bed.” A rush of wetness floods your panties, and you squeeze your thighs together. “You came all in my mouth that night. I miss how your cum tastes.”

“Fuck,” he whispers. “Can I come over?”

You hesitate. You think of Fallon, of Ethan, of Don Julio. Of Grayson.

“Yes. Please.”

[starlocked01]

These Words are Knives

AO3

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary: Virgil doesn't like being a secret boyfriend. He honestly just wants his soulmate to be able to be himself at home and at work. But has Janus ever been himself with anyone? Remus probably. But Virgil and Remus don't know about each other and that's about to become everyone's problem 

Content Warning: Unsympathetic Janus, Swearing, Fighting, Capslock, Emotional Abuse and Manipulation

Day 28 Anxceitmus- A sentence appears on your arm each night recapping something your soulmate said that day. Modified so that it only shows up after you've met them in person.

"If you love me, let me go If you love me, let me go These words are knives that often leave scars The fear, the fear of falling apart Truth be told I never was yours The fear, the fear of falling apart" -This is Gospel Panic! at the Disco

"Oh yes, my girlfriend and I enjoy true crime shows pretty often."

Virgil sighed, staring at the golden letters glowing on his skin. It stung a lot to see his soulmate lie like this every night.

He turned over in bed to face Janus, "I hate your boss."

"Mmhmm, me too," Janus replied flatly, not taking his eyes off the newspaper.

"I shouldn't have to see this. You shouldn't have to keep me hidden from your coworkers," Virgil felt anger knotting at the bottom of his stomach. It truly wasn't fair.

"If he finds out I'm gay, he will fire me. I'm not having this discussion right now," Janus declared with a tone of finality.

"I'm not asking you to out yourself, I'm just upset about the situation," Virgil twisted onto his back and stared at the ceiling, "what does yours say?"

Janus gave an exasperated sigh and made a show of rolling up his sleeve before reading the shiny purple text, "'Oh my god, that would definitely have killed me!' Honestly, Virgil, it was a mouse. Bit of an overreaction."

"Whatever, good night."

"Virgil?"

"What?"

"I love you."

"Love you too."

Well, it wasn't a lie, Virgil is far too trusting of him for him to not mean it when he says he loves him.

Janus could remember back when they'd first met, Virgil wouldn't even give him his phone number. It had been a tedious process getting the anxious man to open up, and it was more than worth it to Janus. The problems only started when he'd met her.

Remus had been completely unexpected; Janus had literally run into her on his way to work. He panicked that first night the neon green script appeared on his arm opposite the purple text. Remus was also his soulmate and unlike Virgil, she was eager to know Janus.

Janus had made his decision to keep his second soulmate a secret the moment he saw the text, and now he sat like a spider atop his web of lies.

Janus glanced over at Virgil as he lay there, clearly not asleep yet, and started humming a lullaby that usually helped Virgil relax. The tension in his shoulders started to ease and soon he was snoring. Janus folded up the newspaper and took the disposable phone out of his nightstand.

R<3: heyyyy sexy i wanna c u tomrw ;]

He smiled and responded, keeping an eye on Virgil to make sure he was still asleep.

J: I agree, at our usual place?

R<3: !!!!!!

He quickly shut off the phone and hid it again before turning off the bedside lamp and rolling over to fall asleep. ---- Truth be told, it was simply easier to talk about Remus at work because they went by multiple pronouns. It also helped that they didn't immediately get suspicious anytime Janus brought them up. Virgil’s concern could be overbearing and it was just easier to stay under the radar of homophobic coworkers who would no longer respect him if they found out.

He didn't feel good about lying; it was survival. But he was good at it.

"Jan!" Remus waved him over as soon as he arrived at the restaurant. He smiled and joined them at their table, "it's been too long, why are you avoiding me?" Remus asked with a grin.

"I'm not, I just don't want to interrupt your work," Janus smirked, taking a sip of his water.

"What? You don't think I could handle you trying to distract me?" Remus laughed happily, leaning over to kiss their soulmate’s cheek.

They laughed and joked all through dinner, gossiping about coworkers, generally having a good time. The time got away from Janus and it was midnight before he realized how late it had gotten.

"Oh! I want to see what your soul mark says today!" Remus beamed, excitedly rolling up their own sleeve.

"You do tend to have quite… entertaining quotes," Janus' smile hid his irritation but he obliged, rolling up his sleeve as well, "'Why don't we eat the babies and call it Swifting?' Really, Remus? Do I want context?"

"You remember 'A Modest Proposal' by Jonathan Swift, right?" he giggled, reading his own quote of the day, "'Honestly, Virgil, it was a mouse.' Huh…" Remus looked confused, "who's Virgil? You don't talk about him but I see his name come up pretty often."

"A coworker. He's not very pleasant to talk with but we often have projects together," the lie was smooth as silk. He knew this one would happen someday and had prepared.

Remus glanced over and saw a streak of purple along Janus’ wrist of his other arm, "what's that?" they grabbed Janus' wrist and pushed the sleeve up before he could protest. They read the words out loud, "'sup, fellow cryptids? I'm your host, Virgil Keir and it's time to talk about why you absolutely should run to the woods to date the Fae.' Wait…" Remus looked up knowingly, "Virgil is your soulmate, not your coworker."

"He can be both. Like I said, he's not easy to get along with-" Janus was sweating under his collar.

"I want to meet him!" Remus exclaimed.

"Why?' Janus was genuinely puzzled by their reaction.

"Hello! I love his youtube channel and you're my easy in! Plus he's your soulmate so he's gotta be important to you, which makes him all the more important to me," Remus grinned happily, "I swear I'm not jealous that you have two soulmates."

Janus let the comment slide past him, "I'll talk with him, but he's rather private. He may not want to meet you. I mean, he hasn't asked about you at all."

"Alright alright. Thanks, Jan!" Remus kissed him again, "wanna stay the night?" they asked with a wink.

"Not tonight, we both have work tomorrow and it's late enough already," Janus gave them a silvery smile while standing to pay the bill.

"Aw man, I can't wait to tell Stormy about this!" Remus pulled out their phone and was already texting with fire in their eyes.

"Who’s Stormy?" Janus asked hesitantly.

"Tumblr mutual. He's like the biggest fan of 'Mothman Mondays'. He'll be so stoked!"

"Ah- well have fun with that. Goodnight, darling," Janus left quickly. This needed to be contained. ---- Virgil stared at his phone in disbelief.

thotiestthoughts: stormy ull nvr guess!!

thotiestthoughts: my soulmate knows Virgil K!!!

Thoti was probably Virgil’s favorite fan, they messaged on tumblr all the time and had become quite good friends, but it was through his anonymous account not the official blog for his show. He debated how he would respond before typing back.

stormcloud07734: wow what a coincidence. r u secretly him? ;)

The best defense is a strong offense, right?

thotiestthoughts: !!!! im so excite!!!!!!

stormcloud07734: that means u must live pretty close to him

thotiestthoughts: u think hes in Orlando???

Virgil smiled. He knew he was in Orlando. But he had a better idea.

stormcloud07734: don't know about Virgil but im in Orlando. wanna meet up?

His heart was pounding. If this were anyone else but thoti he'd never consider it.

thotiestthoughts: OMG WHEN? RN?

stormcloud07734: how about tomorrow?

Virgil smiled at thoti's enthusiasm. They both picked a local cafe to meet in the afternoon and signed off for the night. Virgil didn’t even wait for Janus to get home before falling asleep. ---- Virgil got to the cafe an hour early. He could barely feel his own breathing as his heart felt like it filled his whole chest and stomach. What if he was wrong and thoti turned out to be a creep or stalker? What if he was never heard from again? He hadn't even said goodbye to Janus that morning. He tried to scroll tumblr to calm down, tried to research for his next episode, anything to distract himself from the anticipation and anxiety.

Remus couldn't wait to meet stormy and was practically bouncing around the back seat of xyr Uber. He'd given xem his phone number since they'd never shared photos and xe was trying desperately to not call before xe got to the cafe.

About a block away xyr phone started ringing. It was stormy.

"Hello?" Xe answered breathlessly.

An all too familiar voice answered xem, "hey, thoti, I know you're not here just yet but I have a bit of a confession to make."

"Virgil…" Remus was practically shoved out of the car by the driver as xe was paralyzed in shock. Xe looked up and saw the familiar pale face, purple hair with swooping bangs and dark eyeshadow smiling at him from a table in the corner, phone held to his face.

"Yup, sorry," Virgil hung up as Remus walked over, mouth agape.

"All this time?" xe asked, not ready to sit at the table with one of xyr favorite minor celebrities.

"Yeah, I kinda like participating in cryptid culture without being hounded about my videos," Virgil shrugged with a grin, "come on, sit down. I'm a lot more like stormcloud than I am like my videos."

"I'm Remus," xe stuck out xyr hand.

"Virgil," he snickered and pinched Remus' fingers with three of his own and gave a curt little shake. Xe laughed and sat down across the table, fidgeting with xyr hoodie strings. Virgil gave xem a long look over, "so your soulmate knows me?"

"Oh yeah, I kinda found out last night and asked him to ask you to meet me so if he brings that up, sorry. I just got really excited about it," Remus blushed in embarrassment, "hopefully Janus will be cool about it."

Virgil stopped mid-sip of a mocha latte, "Janus?"

"Yeah, our soulmate."

"You're his soulmate too? I don't believe you," Virgil shook his head.

"I saw both lines of writing on his arms last night, I'm sure of it!" Remus' grin began to falter, "but whatever, right? We're not here to talk about soulmates. I've been so excited to meet you."

"Hang on, how long?" Virgil demanded.

"How long what? My d-"

"How long have you been soulmates?" Virgil smacked the table.

"About 5 months," Remus looked down at the table. This was going terribly.

"Janus has been my soulmate for 2 years and he never brought up a second soulmate. I can't-" Virgil looked like something inside him was dying, "why wouldn't he mention you?"

"He- oh my god he doesn't want me around… and you probably hate me just for existing…" Remus looked up as Virgil laid a hand gently on xyrs.

"No. I don't hate you. We're going to get to the bottom of this." ---- Virgil sat in bed next to Janus who was preoccupied with a book. He didn't know how to bring up Remus and every moment he felt sicker and sicker in his stomach. The frequent fights, the talk at work about a girlfriend, the distance between them, when he thought about it he realized it had only really started 5 months ago.

Janus reached out to take his hand and Virgil instinctively pulled away.

"What's wrong, Virgil?" Janus asked sweetly.

"Don't touch me," he muttered just as the clock struck midnight. He glanced at the yellow text without bothering to read it, "I bet this one is a lie too."

"Virgil, what do you mean? You're acting suspicious," Janus’ mind was reeling. He'd forgotten what Virgil had said he was going to do that day and didn't expect him to be so hostile. He glanced down at the purple text on his arm and asked, "who's 'thoti', Virgil?"

Virgil started to reply when he saw a flash of green on his own arm. He looked and was surprised to find a second soul mark in a dark green scrawl. His phone was ringing and he didn't even need caller ID to know who it was, "are you seeing this too, Rem?" Virgil's eyes flicked over to Janus and narrowed, "a second soulmate, who could have guessed?" Janus kept his face impressively passive at the news and subtle accusation, "okay, see you soon."

Virgil hung up and glared at Janus who simply repeated, "who's 'thoti', Virgil?"

"You insufferable bastard! You know exactly who xe is, your 'girlfriend' our soulmate," Virgil scowled, ready to tear out a throat and leave the body for the wolves. He saw that Remus had texted him that xe was 10 minutes away. Janus had nowhere to run now.

"Her name is Remus. Why would I assume she was your soulmate or that you would give her such a disrespectful nickname?" Janus tried to steer the conversation in his favor.

"You're going to accuse me of disrespect? For the last five months, you have done nothing but lie to us and you're saying I'm the disrespectful one? You can't deflect your way out of this one, babe," Virgil felt his eye twitch. Remus better get there fast if he wanted both soulmates intact.

Virgil was screaming and beating Janus with a pillow when the doorbell rang.

"What the fuck? Is this a confrontation or a sleepover?" Remus burst in the door, finding it unlocked. He ran over and pulled Virgil off of Janus, getting a face full of feathers in the process.

"Oh just casual domestic abuse," Janus picked himself off the floor as Virgil struggled to get out of Remus' grasp.

"I'm going to make him pay, one way or another!" Virgil snarled.

"I don't know, Virgil, I think we can work this out," he blurted out.

Virgil stared at Remus dumbfounded, "you think what? Work this out? He's lied to you the whole time you've known him!"

"So did you," Remus looked down as if ashamed to say it out loud, "I thought you were stormcloud. I gushed about Virgil to you for hours and you never thought to tell me who you really were. I bet you even got content ideas from me and never had to credit them. So how is that different, if not worse, than Janus being scared of you doing exactly what you're doing right now?"

"You really think having an anonymous tumblr is worse than being manipulated for years? Is that what I'm hearing, Remus?"

"I think you're overreacting. I want to try and fix this relationship because we're soulmates and we should be able to make it work," Remus sighed, turning away from Virgil, "I'm not cutting anyone off."

"It's alright, Virgil. I forgive you. Let's figure this out together-"

"NO!" something snapped. Virgil squared up, facing the other two, "get out."

"Virgil," Janus took a step towards him.

"I said, Get Out."

"Oh, did you forget? The lease is in my name. I'm not leaving my fucking apartment. If you don't want to work with us then you can work on getting your own place to live," Janus’ look turned smug and cold as ice.

"Janus, don't kick him out," Remus looked as though he were about to spiral into a panic attack. If he'd just kept his mouth shut for once maybe-

"No, he's right. He holds shelter and food over my head to keep me in line so he can keep a secret fuck boy on the side and expects me to 'work it out' like I'm too scared to fend for myself. Fuck you," Virgil started to laugh with tears streaming down his cheeks. He turned and grabbed his backpack, walking to their room to grab as much of his stuff as he could. Remus followed him, holding Janus back from saying anything more.

"Virgil, please. I don't want to lose you," Remus pleaded softly.

"I thought you were pissed at me for being a liar on the internet," Virgil muttered.

"Maybe, but if I'm willing to forgive Janus don't you think I can forgive you too?" Remus held up his arm to block the door.

Virgil stopped with a heavy exhausted sigh, "I don't want your forgiveness. Remus, if you love me, let me go."

Virgil watched as a tear slipped down Remus' face and he lowered his arm. The rage that fueled him broke and he grabbed Remus in a hug. The other stiffened, uncertain, before relaxing and hugging Virgil back.

"I didn't want to leave you; I just can't stay with him," Virgil fought to keep his voice from trembling as much as his shoulders were shaking.

"I'll see if my landlord can add you on my lease… that way you don't have to leave?" Remus offered hopefully.

"That sounds like a thousand more nights spent screaming. Not a good idea," Virgil broke away from the hug, "thank you, Remus."

"You… you know how to find me if you need me," Remus laughed sullenly.

"Thanks. I'm sorry."

Remus only nodded as Virgil made for the front door.

"If you leave right now, you'll never see him again," Janus spoke from his place on the couch, wine glass in hand, and already half-empty in the short time Virgil spent packing.

"I know. Anything to keep me from fighting you, right? Just watch me find a way to be happy, asshole," Virgil spat before walking out without a second glance back. ---- "Virgil?"

"What?"

"I love you."

"No, you don't!" Virgil hissed, pushing himself away as hard as he could.

"Virgil, I know I'm not your soulmate but I am confident about my feelings for you," Logan looked confused and hurt but all Virgil could see was a cold, sly smile he'd tried so hard to forget. Reality started to blur and Virgil began to hyperventilate while the smirk leered closer, "Virgil, it's me, Logan. In for four."

Virgil focused on the calming voice and followed its instructions. After a few minutes, he could see Logan’s living room, feel the blanket tangled around their feet, the soft touch of his best friend pulling him back from the edge.

"Logan, I- I'm-"

"Don't apologize. There's nothing to apologize for," Logan held him close, resting his chin in Virgil’s hair, "you were clearly triggered. I did not mean to hurt you and your lashing out wasn't directed at me."

"But I know you aren't him, it's not fair for me to treat you that way," Virgil shuddered, pushing in to be as close to Logan as possible.

"Perhaps not, but I'm choosing to forgive it because I know this isn't easy for you," Logan smiled rubbing small circles on his back, "I will learn one thousand different ways to show you my appreciation and care if those three little words are ineffective and harmful to you."

"I don't deserve you," Virgil's voice was muffled as he buried his face in Logan’s chest to hide the tears threatening to spill over.

"No, you deserve so much more than I can give you, and you didn't deserve what happened in the past," Logan kissed the top of his head sweetly.

Virgil choked back a sob, "don't your soulmates hate me?"

Logan sighed, "no. They are happy together and I am happy for them. It has been a while since I've talked to either Patton or Roman, but I think they're okay with me finding you. Not every breakup is toxic, nor are all soulbonds romantic."

They stayed curled together like that on the couch for quite a while, the movie they'd been watching left forgotten on pause.

"Are you happy, Logan?" Virgil whispered, breaking the easy silence.

"With you, yes."

"Promise?"

"I promise I won't lie to you. I am happy with you, Stormcloud," Logan squeezed him tighter, trying to impart every ounce of his love with the application of force. He never wanted to be the one hurting Virgil, and if he ever met Janus or Remus, there was a baseball bat with their names on it in the corner.

Tag List: @stoicpanther @ifrickenhatedeverythingaboutthis @idontgiveafuckaboutshit @tsshipmonth2020

[sirius-archive]

9 and 14 with James, maybe the reader is James's younger sister. Bonus: she's been secretly dating Sirius? Love ur fics btw I'm honestly just in awe everytkme I read something u written

I actually don’t like the way this one ended, but it has to end this way, due to the prompts, and it’s 3am and i’m weak. btw this is the longest prompt i’ve ever written, it’s 8 pages long and 2650 words. lol. 

9. “You hurt her, I stab you, okay?” and 14. “Take a deep breath and please calm the fuck down.”

Falling for your brother’s best friend was, perhaps, one of the biggest cliché’s in cliché history. It’s the type of cliché that is recycled as the plot of (most) erotic romance novels for bored, middle-aged witches. And as much as you hated cliché’s, it was your reality.

It started in your fifth year, in the Astronomy tower while a rowdy, victory party raged below you. An innocent kiss, which had led to a passionate make out session, which evolved into a heated shag against the wall, rushed and sweaty and delicious.

Of course, the guilt had harassed you every time you and Sirius met up. But you couldn’t resist him, and it suddenly wasn’t just about the sex anymore. It was secret dates in Hogsmeade and nights spent inside a make-shift pillow fort, sipping fire whiskey and talking about the future. It was cuddles and forehead kisses and tickle wars and picnics beside the Black Lake. He held you like a promise of protection, and Sirius never broke his promises.

It was… beautiful.  

The fear of getting caught intesified, however, when Sirius moved in, because it wasn’t just James anymore, it was your father, too. Father and son are very much alike, much to your dismay. But, for some odd reason, the risk makes everything more exciting.

Just thinking about the nights you spent, tangled with Sirius in an ocean of white sheets and earth-shattering pleasure makes you feel light-headed, and you squeeze your thighs together, the delicious ache between your legs Sirius had left intensifying. His body hovering over you, skin against skin, his lips spilling over your neck, his hands mapping out your curves, pushing in and pulling out rough and hard and fast–

“Good morning, Lulu,” James greets, his childhood nickname for you on his grin. You dispel the images of the previous night as James bends down and kisses the crown of your head. You throw an orange at your affectionate brother and it hits the back of his head. “That’s rude.”

“Well, I am a Potter,” you remark, taking a bite of your pancake.  

“That, you are.”

“Though mummy could have had a steamy, summer love affair with some hunky, young muggle called…Steven”

“Why Steven?” James asks, popping a piece of bacon into his mouth and chewing languidly.

“I don’t know,” you remark, “it was the first name that came to mind…”

“Well, you’re not naming my child,” James remarks, piling his plate with bacon and egg.

“It’s not as bad as – I don’t know – Harry,” you retort, leaning across the table and stabbing a piece of fruit with your fork.

“That’s a fucking awful name,” James cringes, “I quite like the name Elvendork. It’s unisex and very practical…”

“That’s not a name!” you exclaim, “That’s just sounds smashed together.”

Just as you say it, Sirius Black enters the kitchen, the scent of his cologne infusing the air around you. Your heart dances like leaves caught in a summer breeze.

“Morning Prongs,” Sirius nods, before taking a seat beside you, “Morning Minnie.” Your nickname on his lips makes your heart melt through your ribs and pool somewhere in your panties. 

“Mornin’ Padfoot,” James mumbles through a mouthful of food, oblivious to your blushing cheeks, “Wouldcha pass the waffles?”

Sirius grabs the plate of waffles and leans across the table, dropping them in front of James. His arm grazes against yours as he does so, and it leaves invisible scorch marks on your skin.

“So, whats the plan for today?” Sirius asks as he begins to fill his plate with food.

“Well, Moony and Wormtail are coming by today,” James remarks, taking a sip of coffee, “And I think we were going to have a game of Quidditch.”

“Excellent,” Sirius grins, delightedly.

“As long as I’m not on the same team as boof head here, then I’m in,” you quip, tossing a nod in James’ direction.

“Come on, (Y/N),” James whines, “We’re the unstoppable duo. What would Godric Gryffindor say if he knew his star seeker refuses to get along with her Captain?”

“I think he would agree with me once he learned how much of a competitive asshole you are,” you drawl. Sirius snorts, and something about his approval makes your heart swell with pride.

“I’m just passionate.”

“You’re just fanatical,” you snip, “It’s bloody embarrassing.”

“Don’t be afraid to tell us how you really feel,” James drawls, though the corners of his lips are pinched in a loose grin.

“This is somewhat awkward,” Sirius confesses, “Especially when the salt is sitting in the middle of your upcoming family lawsuit.”

“You’ll get use to our bickering,” you smile, passing him the salt “If I don’t stab him with my fork first…”

“Regs – I mean – Regulus and I used to argue all the time…”

You and James shared a furtive glance as Sirius talk a bite out of his toast, his gaze boring holes into the butter dish. Silence hung over the breakfast table, filled only with the scraping of cutlery and the crunch of toast and bacon. An urge to take Sirius’ hand under the table overwhelms you, and you place a hand over his. Sirius shoots you a grateful glance, eyes brimming with grey melancholy.

“Anyway, Pads” James says, his voice rippling through the silence. You jerk your hand away from Sirius, “What do you think of the name Elevendork?”

“Ah, good name. It’s unisex,” Sirius grins and you face palm.

“Neither of you are naming my child,” you grumble, and hearty laughter bubbles in the air.

“Alright, that’s it, I’m having a break,” you announce, throwing your broomstick on your shoulder and pacing away. James zooms down and staggers to the ground, his hair windswept and eyes bright.

“Potters don’t have breaks,” James snaps, chasing after you, “Come on, team Potter is on a winning streak.”

“James, you are pathetic,” you drawl, “I’m starving and I have to pee.”

“Yeah, Prongs, it’s not as though this is the Quidditch World Cup,” Remus adds, catching up to the two of you, “It’s your backyard for Merlin’s sake.”

“It’s still Quidditch,” James snips, causing both you and Remus to roll your eyes.

“This is why I’m not on the Gryffindor Quidditch team,” Remus mumbles, stabbing a thumb in James’ direction. You stifle a snigger.

“Giving up already?” Sirius calls after you, “We’re just getting started.”

“No wonder you’re playing so poorly,” you remark, spinning around to face him and walking backwards, “Honestly, my grandmother could play better than you and she’s dead.”

Remus barks a laugh and awards you with a fist pump.

“Aw, that’s cute,” Sirius grins, jogging up beside you. “Pretending to act like you weren’t distracted out there is so sweet.”

Heat tickles your cheeks and you spin around, curtaining your blushing cheeks with your hair. “What are you talking about?”

“Yeah, what are you talking about, Pads?” James inquires, brow raised suspiciously.

“I’m just saying, there were plenty of opportunities for Minnie to catch the snitch, yet she seemed…distracted.”

Sirius was right. Your focus had been lingering between Sirius and the lean muscles flexing beneath his Quidditch shirt. Sirius seemed to be giving you a knowing grin and you averted your gaze, staring at the ground.

“Hey, can you guys wait up,” a flustered Peter pants, trailing behind the four of you.

“Sorry, Wormy,” James drops his pace, walking beside Peter while you and Remus walk ahead. Sirius sends you a flirtatious wink before joining Peter and James, and your cheeks flare as you and Remus pace toward your house.

“You know I hate to say it but…Sirius is right,” Remus mumbles.

“I wasn’t distracted,” you say, brashly, “I was just waiting for the right opportunity.”

“Uh-huh,” Remus nods, “Like how you’re ‘waiting for the right opportunity’ to tell James about you and Sirius.” You gape at Remus and the sandy-haired boy chortles, shaking his head, “I may hang around idiots but that doesn’t mean that I am one…”

“How long have you known?” you ask, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

“That doesn’t matter,” Remus smiles, batting the question away as though it had materialized in front of him, “What matters is that you’re honest about your feelings. For James’ sake.”

You sigh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “You’re right. Dammit, Remus, I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know,” Remus grins, proudly, “You also love it, though.”

You shake your head and jab him playfully in the ribs, “Yeah. I do.”

Remus and Peter had left after dinner, but the formers words hadn’t left you at all. He was right, after all. You have to be honest and clear. It’s the least James deserves.  

Swinging on the swing strung on the large sycamore tree behind your house, you feel the summer breeze tickle your cheeks and filter through your hair as you try to figure out what to say. A lot had happened on this swing, which was large enough to occupy two people. But this was your spot of thought and contemplation.

Before you can string together a proper sentence, however, you hear familiar footsteps approach you, and then his voice fills the night air.

“Looks like you could use some company…”  

You regard him over your shoulder, “What makes you think I’ll want yours, Sirius Black?”

Sirius sinks into spot beside you. “Don’t know, really. I just have this gut feeling that you do.”

You laugh, trying to ignore the heat radiating from Sirius onto you. Your bare thigh brushes against his, igniting sparks beneath your skin.

“Is it the same gut feeling that lands you in detention all the time?” you quip. Sirius chortles.

“Nah,” he murmurs after a beat of silence, “It’s better.”

You feel his gaze sweep over you and you suddenly feel self-conscious of every centimeter of skin on your body. You wish you had chosen a prettier sundress, or slapped on more make-up.

“What is it like?” you whisper, daring to look into Sirius’ eyes.

Sirius raises a hand and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers trace your jaw and travel down your neck, wrapping around your pulse point. “It’s like…fireworks or Butterflies, flying in formation. And it always happens when I’m around you.”

“Sirius…” you whisper, “we have to tell James.”

Sirius nods, his thumb gently dragging across your throat. “I know.”

You see the guilt flicker across his handsome features, and something chews away in your chest. This is just as hard for him as it is for you, you can tell. But if James truly loves both of you, he will understand that this is so much more than chemical lust. It’s love. Strange and magical and beautiful. It’s you and Sirius, sitting on your swing, bathing in moonlight and basking in the glow of one million stars.  

Leaning forward, you press your lips to Sirius in a languid kiss, your lips whispering how much you love him. Sirius kisses back, his other hand moving to cup your cheek before wrapping around tendrils of your hair. It’s not the first time you’ve kissed him, but every time your lips meet, it’s like he’s igniting every dying star inside your soul, sparking every flame into a wild fire, and he burns but you love it.

When you break away, Sirius plants a tender kiss to your forehead and you rest your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you protectively. Both of you fail to notice that you’re no longer alone, and it’s only when someone clears their throat that the two of you leap apart, jumping from the swing and spinning around.

“By all means, snog in front of me like I don’t exist,” James drawls, his face contorted into what looks like a cringe and a grimace. But there’s a fire in his eyes that is only lit by rage, and it swallows you up in hazel flames.

“James,” You murmur, “Please, listen to me…”

“My best friend is snogging my little sister and I’m supposed to just listen to you,” James growls, moving toward Sirius. Sirius steps back but James keeps charging toward him. You step between them, pushing a gentle hand against James’ chest.

“James, take a deep breath and please calm the fuck down.”

“Calm down?!” James roars, “Calm down?! Are you really going to tell me that?”

“James, please.”

James’ eyes dart between the two of you before he rakes a hand through his hair.  

“My sister and my best friend,” he mutters, repeatedly, as he begins to pace back and forth. “How long? How long have you been shagging my sister?”

“It doesn’t matter, James.” Sirius says, his voice steady but his eyes pleading.

“Yes, I think it does fucking matter!” James snarls, voice venomous and low.

“No, it doesn’t. Because I love your sister, James. I love her. I always have, and I always will.” Sirius snaps, but there is no anger in his voice, “She gives me purpose and hope and I’ve never been more happy in my life. I fucking love your sister, James, and I will sell my soul for her happiness without a hint of hesitation.”

Unshed tears glisten in your eyes as you gaze at Sirius, and his hand moves to cup your own, holding it flat against his chest.

“You mean everything to me, (Y/N). I love you more than those three words could ever mean. I love you. Just you. Always you.”

“I love you too, Sirius,” you whisper, biting down on your bottom lip, “I love you so much.”

Moving toward Sirius, you throw your arms around him and capture him in a warm embrace. He buries his face in your neck and you press a gentle kiss to his neck and it’s beautiful, it’s perfect, it’s real.

And it’s in front of James.

You break apart slowly, before turning to James, whose face in unreadable. You gaze at James, begging him for his blessing, because as much as you love Sirius, James is your brother and you love him, even when you think you hate him.

“You…You love him?” James murmurs. You nod fervently and take Sirius’ hand. James’ eyes flick toward Sirius. “You love her?”

“More than anything.”

There is another still silence, in which the tension threatens to bury you alive. James’ hands tear through his hair again before a laugh of disbelief leaves his lips.

“My sister and my best friend,” he mutters, and then a flicker of a smile crosses his lips, “My sister and my best friend!”

Unbelievably, amazingly, James is grinning, and it’s such a dramatic change in mood, you have to blink several times to believe it.

“My sister and my best friend!” James steps forward and slaps a hand on Sirius shoulder, beaming at the two of you.

“So…y–you’re not mad anymore?” Sirius stammers, hardly able to believe it himself, “We’re still…friends?”

“It’s going to be…weird…and I’m still angry that you kept this a secret from me but…my sister and my best friend.” James smiles, before adding more seriously, “You hurt her, I stab you, okay?”

Sirius gulps thickly, “I – er – believe you.”

James nods, before a grin tickles his lips and he beams at the two of you. You take Sirius’ hand, interlace your fingers with his, and you smile because this is okay now, no more secrecy, no more sneaking around, this is real and this is okay.

It’s cliché, but you don’t care anymore. Fuck clichés. This is love, and it’s real.

Friends fans will understand what i did there ;) also, yeah, i’m not super proud of James’ reaction in this, but it has to be this way so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

no more prompts please

[musically-melodic]

If I Could Tell Her

Status: Crush

AN: The song is not in the same context as the musical but the lyrics work, although I may have changed some but it was just to sort out points of views, so don't judge. Also OC.

Y/N POV

I have been trying to deny it all week but it is just not working. I am completely and totally jealous. It's just that every time that I see Wally he is always talking to Melody. I mean I know she is my best friend and I know she wouldn't do anything to sabotage my chance with him but...

I don't know, they both have been avoiding me like the plague.

What if Melody told Wally that I like him! What if he really doesn't like me and they are trying to find a way to tell me! What if they think I'm not cool and just don't want to be friends with me anymore! What if...  

My thoughts are interrupted by my phone going off. It's a message from......

WALLY!!!!

When did he get my number? I mean I had his number because Melody gave it to me but I have never actually used it.

Wally: Hey Y/N! Could u             meet us at the park?             Like rn?

I was so shocked. I can barely form a normal sentence around him and now he’s asked me to meet him at the park! Wait... It said us ... Maybe Melody is there with him... WHAT IF THEY’RE TOGETHER!!!

Without thinking I message back

Y/N: I would love to! Where     should I meet u ?

I press the power button to turn off the screen and start tapping my fingers against my phone and pace around my bedroom.

Once again my phone chimes and it's another message from Wally.

Wally: At the bandstand if              that's alright?

I have to be honest. I'm panicking! I take a few deep breaths and start tapping at the device.

Y/N: That's fine I'll see u soon.

I lob my phone on to my bed and start digging  through all of my stuff to get the things I would need.

Doing a last check to see if I have my phone, wallet (you know if it ends up in them saying that they’re together I'm gonna need my heartbreak kit - ice cream, chocolate and sad movies) and keys. I lock the front door and start walking towards the park.

****TIME SKIP****

When I got to the park I saw lots of kids with their parents and carers but there was one pair that really caught my eye. It was a young woman with a little boy. From the distance between me and the two I could hear their conversation.

"Aunty Annabeth can you tell me the story of how you and mummy and daddy became best friends again please!" the little boy said after he had come down the slide and ran to her. She picked the boy up, swung him around once and sat down on a nearby bench with him on her knee.

"So," the woman started, " we all became friends when your daddy and mummy came over and stopped some mean people from school who were being really mean to me. They pushed the bad people away and your daddy told them 'if you ever come near her again you will get a good bashing!'" The boy giggled as the woman raised her fist and deepened her voice, supposedly doing an impression of the boys farther. The woman carried on speaking. "Ever since then mummy and daddy have been very protective over me. And me, mummy and daddy were always going on adventures. When we grew up both me and mummy fell in love with  your very own daddy. Unfortunately for me your daddy was only in love with your mummy so then they got married and had a little boy called Nico," with the mention of what I'm supposing is his name the boy smiled and started to giggle as the woman tickled him. Once he had calmed down, she finished "and they lived happily ever after."

The boy looked sad. " Did you not get a happily ever after then aunty Annabeth?" The woman looked to the sky and the boy followed her lead.

After a moment the woman concluded with, " Hopefully I will get my happily ever after, just like your parents. Maybe I will get married to uncle Percy and have a little urchin like you," She said smiling and pushing a finger against his nose. "But they don't just appear. They take hard-work, good friendships and, with a bit of luck, a little bit of true love."

And with that the boy looked down from the sky, and, jumping off the woman's lap, ran over to two approaching adults. The woman had black, pixie cut hair and wore punk type clothes  and the man had sandy hair and a scar on his face.

I saw how they all smiled at each other and I realised something·  Even if Melody and Wally were going out I should be supportive and I should be a good friend. I decided to head to the bandstand and face the situation head on. As long as Wally is happy I should be. As long as I can keep his eyes in my life I will be satisfied.

When I finally get in view of the bandstand I see two figures standing in the middle. The one with its back to me was obviously Wally with his ginger hair.  I could see him rubbing the back of his neck, a habit he had when he was nervous. This must be important then if he's  nervous about it. Melody must have seen me from over Wally's shoulder because she suddenly stopped their conversation, shoved Wally towards what looked like a stool, then ran down the steps and towards me.

There must have been a worried look on my face because she started to try and reassure me.

"Don't worry it's nothing bad we just have something to tell you," Melody told me as she grabbed my wrist and dragged me towards the bandstand and what looks like a guitar and a keyboard.

Just as we went up the elegant steps, directly in front of me was a four legged stool.  Slightly to the left was another stool however seated on this was Wally, his emerald eyes slightly covered by his bright orange hair, where intently focused on the strings of the guitar, which he was plucking and slightly twisting the pegs and changing the note of each string to tune it.

Melody grabbed my shoulders and frog marched me to the empty stool and pushed me into it. She then released her tight grasp and scooted past everything to stand behind the keyboard.

"Right then," she started, placing both hands on her hips and her feet shoulder width apart in what she calls her 'superhero/peter pan' stance. Wally here has something he would like to say to you but is unable to just say it to you. So naturally he came to the greatest person in the world to figure out how to tell you. Of course I came up with the best idea and that is how we all came to be here today. Just remember this is so uncharacteristic of him so give him some slack.

"So sit back, relax, watch out for the Moulin Rouge reference and enjoy Wally's gift , his song to you... "

Wally , having not looked up during Melody's speech, looked to her and she nodded. He looked straight back down and started to strum the beginning notes to the song.

Then Melody started to speak.

"Listen he thinks you are awesome." she looked at me straight in the eye as if this sudden eye contact meant something special. I shook my head in disbelief.

“He does! I'm telling the truth. Just listen.” She took a pause to wait for the music to catch up with her, keeping an eye on Wally for her que. Her fingers started to move gracefully across the keys as she began to sing.

“Well he said 

There's nothing like your smile 

Sort of subtle and perfect and real

He said 

You never knew how wonderful

That smile could make someone feel

And he knew 

Whenever you get bored 

You scribble stars on the cuffs of your jeans 

And he noticed 

That you still fill out the quizzes 

That they put in those teen magazines”

With each line that Melody sang, I could see Wally’s face slowly covering in a bright red blush. Did he really notice all those things that I did? Did he notice me that much?

“But he kept it all inside his head

What he saw he left  unsaid

And though he wanted to 

He couldn't talk to you

He couldn't find a way

But he would always say…”

At this point Wally finally lifted his head and began to sing.

“If I could tell her

Tell her everything I see

If I could tell her

How she's everything to me

But we're a million worlds apart

And I don't know how I would even start

If I could tell her

If I could tell her”

Holy mother of Zeus! Does this mean he likes me? I can't stop the smile spreading across my face. This is like a dream come true. I decided to play along with their little song.

“Did he say anything else?” I asked timidly.

“About you?” Melody replied with a mischievous smirk, “Of course! I think he could have gone on forever if he wanted to, but right now I'm just going to bring up  the best ones.”

“He thought 

That you looked really pretty”

Wally looked at Melody with a look of shock and irritation and in turn Melody let out a heavy sigh. Me on the other hand had a blush the shade of a tomato. 

“Fine,” she sighed, 

“It looked pretty cool when you put indigo streaks in your hair

And he wondered how you learned to dance

Like all the rest of the world isn't there

But he kept it all inside his head

What he saw he left unsaid…”

Once again Wally took over.

“If I could tell her

Tell her everything I see

If I could tell her

How she's everything to me

But we're a million worlds apart

And I don't know how I would even start

If I could tell her

If I could tell her

But what do you do when there's this great divide?”

“You just seemed so far away” Melody joined in,

“And what do you do when the distance is too wide?”

“It's like I don't know anything”

“And how do you say”

I looked right into Wally’s eyes, wanting to know what he wanted to say.

“I love you

I love you

I love you

I love you”

Each time he said it hit me like a truck. He. He loves me? I have to be dreaming. I can't believe it. Tears started to brim in my eyes. I could feel it. 

“But we're a million worlds apart

And I don't know how I would even start

If I could tell her

If I could”

Wally finally finished strumming the last chord, Melody went and took the guitar off him. She had already packed up her keyboard, doing it with great speed. She grabbed the stools and after she gave me a little nudge with a sly smirk walked down the steps of the bandstand and packed all her things into a pull along wagon and walked away. 

Once Melody had disappeared from view, I turned back to Wally. I could tell he was nervous from his stance. It was one I had never seen him in because with whatever he did, he always did it with a confident demeanor.

“Did you,” Wally paused to swallow the lump in his throat, “ Did you like the song?” 

“Yeah it was really good. I didn't know you played guitar.” I muttered just loud enough for him to hear. We both just stood there, a calm yet uncomfortable silence as a sudden gust of wind blew through.

“OK, here we go. Did you mean,” I paused to catch my breath, “what you said in the song?” I asked, preparing myself to run away if the answer was not the one I'd hoped for.

“Of Course I meant it. Believe it or not Y/N I've had a massive crush on you for quite a while now. And those feelings have just kept growing and growing the more I've gotten to know you. Each new thing you show me about yourself I've either loved or learned to love and I wouldn't change you for the world. At this very moment in time I'm just hoping that you feel the same. And if you don't I'll still always be here for you. Either romantically or not.”

“Wally,” I breathe. The biggest smile you could ever imagine was on my face at this moment. “I'm pretty sure I fell in love with you the moment I met you.” With my last word Wally took the few steps he needed to close the gap between us and tenderly pressed his lips on mine. You know that warm tingle you get from lying in the sun on a summer's day. That's what it felt like. And I never wanted it to stop.

Thanks to my little brother for being my beta reader