#these may or may not be more accurate than the rest

[mushgloomz]

Marcus Acacius x Female!Reader

• an: eek my first time writing marcus AND fluff! this is my contribution to @princessanglophile ‘s birthday challenge - i was given marcus acacius & the song ‘true love’s kiss’ from enchanted as my prompt <3

• tags: no use of y/n, very fluffy, marcus is the most doting husband but we knew that, pregnancy, childbirth, not historically accurate anything loool

• wc: approx. 1k

The Gods had been merciful in your union; whilst most had been condemned to a life of womanly servitude, you had been blessed with a husband of the highest calibre.

Each morning was a resounding testament to such a fact - waking at your leisure, safe in the embrace of Rome’s greatest soldier, General Marcus Acacius. Warm breaths at your nape and husky snores would ruse you; the slightest squeak passing your lips as you unfurled and stretched out your limbs, heavy with slumber.

“It is still early, rest.”

Marcus’ voice, gravelly and somewhat slurred, sept into your ear from behind you. A contented smile tugged at the corners of your lips as toned arms drew you closer to the man, still half-asleep, unwilling to part with you just yet. His hand moved to the swell of your stomach, fingers splayed over the current lodging of your unborn babe.

Inseparable. That is the only way you could describe your husband since your pregnancy became evident. Campaigns would be denied with no explanation beyond my wife carries our child, I will attend to her, and her alone. No trip to the bathhouse was unaccompanied; Marcus would spend the duration at your side, working oils into your aching muscles with practiced precision.

As you relaxed back into his grasp, the definition of love incarnate, you covered his broad hand with your own. Even in his state of rest, his fingers found themselves intertwining with yours.

You awoke an hour or so later, dawn barely breaching the horizon as a soft groan of discomfort rumbled from your throat. The twinge in your lower back demanded attention as it pinched incessantly, subsiding after a few moments had passed. Your vocalisation stirred Marcus.

“What troubles you, my love?”

The words were softly spoken beside your cheek as calloused hands skimmed the curves of your frame, rubbing with an almost trepid fervor, seeking to soothe your woes. “I am well, Marcus. It is nothing of importance”, you murmured, attempting to settle yourself against his chest once more.

The twinge returned mere minutes after; inhaling slowly as you grit your teeth, awaiting its passing. Shifting once more, Marcus positioned himself so he could look down at you. Rich brown eyes met yours, the former filled with concern as he spoke again.

“This is of the utmost importance, little dove. If you are pained, you must tell me so.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth had the discomfort passed again. “It is little more than an ache, dear husband. I am not worried”, you cooed, the softly spoken response passing your lips as you smiled up at him. Hair unruly from rest, the lines of time cradling his slightly furrowed brow - he was a sight to behold, a man carved by the Gods themselves.

“I am sending for the midwives. You may be a thing of beauty, but you are a terrible liar.”

Sighing softly, you nodded your head, conceding. No amount of rebuttal would sway Marcus; there was little point in wasting breath arguing your point. Ever the man of action, he placed a tender kiss to your temple before disentangling himself from the soft linens of your bed and striding toward the doors of your chambers.

Little relief was offered by the bundled herbs that the midwives pressed to your body in a bid to alleviate the overwhelming pain. It felt all encompassing, unforgiving - brutal. The pauses in between each contraction of your abdomen were nearly non-existent. Deep breaths became groans, groans becoming grunts and growls.

A choked sob left your parted lips as you panted, animalistic sounds rumbling from the depths of your chest that you'd never heard before. "I cannot... by the Gods, I-I am not strong enough...", you pleaded, voice trembling in between gulps of air.

"There is no one stronger, my love. I could not name a gladiator across the entire empire that holds your resolve, your courage."

No herb in all of Rome brought you solace in the same way that your husband did; hands not leaving your shoulders as you braced yourself on the birthing stool, unphased by the otherwise womanly domain. His words barely registered, but the resounding strength brought to you by his presence was enough to persevere.

Exhaustion staked its claim in your body as you rested amongst the linens of your bed; escorted by the midwives as they cloaked your newborn babe in soft cotton. Marcus was all but stunned into silence; eyes misted over as, finally, the matron brought forth your child.

"A girl, Lady Acacius. She is a fighter, praise the Gods."

Your heart pounded against your ribs, instilled with a newfound vigour as your daughter was set upon your chest. Soft down peeked from underneath the shawl cloaking her tiny head; eyes open just a fraction. Brown, just like her father's.

There was something so... intriguing, so perfectly right about the way she was nestled in the crook of your arm - so content as your eyes scanned every inch. An innate urge moved you to tilt your head down, breathing deeply from the crown of her head. Gods, no perfumed oil could compare to her scent. Tilting your head once more, you pressed your lips delicately to her forehead.

Everything stilled in that moment. The thrum of your heart no longer audible within the cavern of your head; sensation ceasing completely apart from the contact of your lips against her skin.

Never before had such contentment, such blissful serenity, overwhelmed you in this way. You pulled back ever so slowly, looking down at the little life in your clutches, awestruck. Forever changed. Your eyes met Marcus', still glossy and doting. He spoke with a knowing tenderness, as if answering an unspoken question.

"That is love, in its truest form."

divider credits to the very talented @strangergraphics !!

[mellowyellowdaydream]

Mixtapes-

AN: Hi! This is my first fic since I’ve returned to writing, so please be kind. Feedback is always appreciated! Also if anyone wants help explain making links or has a source where I can learn lemme know please! Also I wanted it to be more period accurate to the era that is the 2000’s because I personally love that era for the fashion, music, pop culture! So yeah!

Word count: 9.2K

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader insert.

Rating: Mature themes so mature audiences only. 18+ enter at own risk.

Themes: slow burn???, friends to lovers trope, two knuckle heads being knuckle heads, mutual pining, eventual smut, fluff, time jumps(sorry not sorry) maybe some out of character Dean? Lots of boob talk cause I too love boobies. <3 sorry not sorry <3

Summary: Y/N loves making mixtapes, but what happens when the one she doesn’t want to disappear is the one that went missing. And what happens when she confronts the one who took it.

~~~~~~~~

Mixtape, a way to show one’s love to another through music. At least that what pop culture leads you to believe. Especially in 1996, except they started moving over to mixtapes on CD.

Y/N and Dean share of love for music, now it may be different bands and genres but the love is still the same. Y/N constantly teases Dean about his “vintage” taste when it comes to his music though, so she has taken it upon herself to introduce new eras and bands into his repertoire.

Now she did make sure she included songs he would recognize, whether it be from the radio or from when she showed them to him from her own stereo. She would obviously include Metallica, usually as the first song on the tape just to help cover for him incase John grabbed it, but she did make sure it wasn’t one he would normally listen to so he would switch tapes.

Y/N would almost always include one song that would make Dean uncomfortable, whether that be Closer by NIN or Change in the House by Deftones. Cause she knew those two weren’t just casual listening songs, those were ‘lets get down to business and fuck’ songs. But she also knew Dean and her would never cross that line.

Ever.

He saw her as nothing more than a friend, at least that’s what she thought. She didn’t know that anytime one of those two songs would come on he would start to squirm in his seat cause he started to think about what it would be like to cross that line. He thought about what it would be like to have her underneath him while they listened to those songs together.

Now Sam always thought it was hilarious how he would adjust in the drivers seat and try to turn the music down, so he could push those dirty, dirty thoughts from his head. But seeing as how his younger brother liked to be a little shit he’d turn it back up and compliment Dean on his music taste and tease him about where he got this tape from.

Which Dean would grumble he got it from Y/N/N, and say something about her trying to broaden his music taste. Which then would make Sam hide a small smile and snicker quietly.

“So you let her change up your music, but I can’t even change the tape every once in a while?” Sam would tease.

“Driver picks the music, passenger shuts his cake hole.” Dean would reply without taking his eyes off the road, but if he did he would see Sam mouthing the well known saying along with him.

“So you would say it’s getting pretty serious between you two? Hmm?” Sam teases, obviously loving the reactions he could make Dean have with just barely mentioning the mutual pining you two do.

“Sammy, once again she’s just a friend. Always has been, always will be. When will you learn that?” Dean replied way too quickly.

“Sure Dean. Whatever you need to tell yourself. But if I were you, I’d listen to the music she’s showing you. I think there’s some, uhh, deeper meanings.” Sam mumbled, resting his head against the window. Slowly closing his eyes as the song changed to a more mellow Led Zeppelin tune.

Dean just grumbled and kept driving. Knowing he would need to call you soon about the case they were working on, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to work up the nerve to actually ask you what Sam meant. So he pushed those intimate thoughts down and away. Maybe he’ll ask you one day. Just not now, while everything is so complicated. Maybe many, many years down the line he’ll work up that courage.

But for now he’s more than happy just bring your friend, because that means he gets to keep you in his life and keep you safe.

~~~~~~

Time jump to 2007

“Time to hit the road you two! Let’s go!” Dean bellowed out into Bobby’s living area knowing Sam and Y/N would hear.

“Fine! But I get shotgun!” Y/N responded before Sam could, so when their eyes met she gave him a shit eating grin while he looked at her like ‘why the fuck do I have to be in the back? You’re smaller!’ She just shrugged, zipped up her duffle, grabbed her bags and went out to throw them in the trunk of Baby, finding Dean waiting for them so he could have the trunk set up how he wanted it.

“Sam not too happy about the shotgun situation huh?” Dean asked while a smirk softly rose on his face.

“Who would have thought? The tallest person would be mad about being in the backseat. Shocker!” Y/N quipped.

Dean just shook his head and laughed while he looked down making his hands look busy while Sam took his sweet time to join them.

“He’s probably getting an earful from Dad, should we go save him?” Y/N asked looking over to the porch waiting for it to swing open.

“Nah, he’ll be fine. Bobby knows we will take good care of you and not let you into too much of the action. Shit, I had to promise I wouldn’t let you too far out of my sight or else he was gonna fight me.” Dean answered.

Y/N looked at Dean knowing Bobby had to probably fight the urge to slam him against the wall while Dean made promises about her safety thus making a small snort come out of her nose.

“Well I mean what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Y/N responded shooting Dean a wink then looked down to fiddle with a zipper on one of the bags he’s been fussing over.

What she didn’t notice is the effect that answer had on Dean. He stiffened because his mind went immediately to the gutter. Cause he would love to do so many filthy things to her but would hate for her father to ever find out because it would be his ass mounted on the wall above Bobby’s doorway. But he couldn’t help it when she came out wearing a skin tight crop top that showed off her breasts like the work of art they were. Not to mention the small bit of tummy that peaked over the waist of her jeans cause no matter how hard she tried to hide her “chubby body”(her words not Deans) it would always find a way to pop out of its confines cause it too knew it shouldn’t be hidden. It should be appreciated and worshipped, cause who didn’t love a little extra padding for when it came down to being intimate it gave something to hold onto and extra area to smother in kisses.

While he was distracted with his dirty thoughts that’s when she noticed a small corner of something poking out of a side pocket, a small rectangular object that anyone who loved music would recognize.

A cassette.

But not any old cassette, one of the ones she made for him. At least that’s what she thinks it is, seeing as how it wasn’t in his special box up front with the rest of the tapes. And she knew he didn’t keep a lot of the ones she gave him up front in fear of John finding them or Sam teasing him about the tapes.

Just as she was about to ask Dean about it Sam came slamming out of the house. With Dean distracted with teasing Sam for taking his sweet time inside, Y/N slowly grabbed the tape without anyone noticing, slipped by the boys loading up Sam’s things and slid into the front seat of Baby.

She looked down at the well loved cassette. Most of the ink was rubbed off, so it was almost unidentifiable. But you could still see the remnants of her writing mixtape numba 69 ;)

‘Oh.my.god. How did he get this one!?’ Y/N thought while blushing furiously at her lap, she thought that she lost or misplaced this one in her bedroom. Thinking maybe it slipped under her bed at some point.

She was so wrapped up in her head and thoughts she almost didn't hear the boys climbing into the car. She quickly shoved the tape between her thighs and hoped neither of them picked up on her being flustered.

“Alright, next stop New Mexico. No stops unless gas or food. Got it?” Dean asked turning the ignition bringing Baby to life.

‘Yep’ and ‘Got it’ were mumbled out by the two passengers.

‘Alright.’ Dean chided and turned the radio up on Led Zeppelin's IV as the all settled into the music and ride.

Y/N was able to drift back into her head and wonder how he got his hands on this tape and when did he get his hands on this tape. Which that lead into her figuring out how she was gonna ask him those questions. She subconsciously would gnaw at her lips in thought, most of the time until there was a crack and raw or it was bleeding. She was so oblivious and lost in thought that she wouldn’t notice anytime Dean would glance at her and shift his gaze from her mouth to her eyes, and continue that route a couple times before glancing back to the road, analyzing her concerned face and making him curious about why she was stuck in thought. ‘Maybe bringing her with us wasn’t a good idea, what if she’s too in her head to focus on our task?’ Dean thought.

Sam wasn’t oblivious to his brothers actions though. He took notice and would probably comment on it if he knew it wouldn’t sour the mood for this hunt.

Sam wanted to make sure he came off as supportive to these two as much as he could because he saw the happiness each brought to the other, and he wanted to make sure if he could help it to not put any negativity into their first hunting trip as a team of three cause he knew it could make or break this whole working relationship. And he hates to admit it but he needs Y/N just as much as Dean does, because her lore knowledge and researching would put his to shame. (Which honestly he loves having that older sister role model to compete with when it came to the research and lore. ‘Because if you make it fun, you make it go faster!’ Y/N would say this encouraging the scholar that Sam is. And thus making him not hate to admit to anything.)

They passed through many counties, and one almost two states, before pulling off for gas and some snacks. But made quick work of getting back on the road so they could make it to New Mexico somewhat early tomorrow if they pushed through the night to drive one more state before they could say they made it safely. Y/N let Sam swap for the front so he could stretch his legs better and she could curl up in the back and rest incase Dean wanted to switch at all.

Y/N awoke when Baby slowed down on the side of the road.

“What’s wrong? We there?” She quickly spit out while brushing her hair out of her face, realizing she fell asleep for a few hours. Sam just grumbled and snuggled into his sweatshirt more.

“I need to stretch my legs, my balls are about to go numb.” Dean answered opening the door.

Y/N realized that they had made it to New Mexico but we’re exactly there yet. She also saw the opportunity for her to ask those questions to Dean knowing Sam was sleeping in the car and wouldn’t interrupt. So she crawled to the drivers side passenger door and climbed out once she clicked it open. Which startled Dean who was looking up at the night sky and stars.

Y/N mumbled a sorry while Dean reassured her it was ok. She leaned on the trunk of Baby pulling the flannel closer to her body to keep the warmth in if a breeze came by, while Dean paced infront of her kicking the dirt a bit with his boots.

“How much longer til we’re there? I’m sure you and Sasquatch could use a good lie down.” Y/N said.

“Well we gotta stop one more time for gas soon, but otherwise I don’t see why we wouldn’t be there by 10am. Which we could find a motel, check in, clean up and then start getting research for the-“ Dean said but stopping to make her say what they were hunting again.

“Ghost? You were confused about a ghost?” Y/N asked, looking up at him with the ‘what the hell’ face and raised eyebrows.

“Yeah that. I couldn’t remember if it was that or vampires.” Dean replied.

“They are nothing similar. How did you get those two mixed up?” Y/N teased putting her hands on her waist, exposing her skin tight baby tee that hugged her boobs to perfection. Dean sputtered but couldn’t come up with an excuse and trying to not make it obvious he liked what the shirt was doing for her body. And seeing that little sliver of tummy peaking out just above her high waisted jeans definitely didn’t help whatsoever.

“Can I ask you something Dean?” Y/N interrupted his thoughts, making him shake his head.

Oh no. I’ve been caught checking out my best friend and now she’s gonna fucking hate my guts! Dean thought.

“A question, can I ask you one?” Y/N repeated.

“Uh, sure?” He responded but unsure of what to expect next from Y/N.

“Where and when did you get this?” Y/N asked as she slid the cassette tape out of her the big front pocket on her pants(think more cargo/jnco jeans none of this skinny Jean shit).

Deans eyes widened and he tried to grab the tape from her, but her reaction was far quicker and she pulled it away and held it up over her shoulder while quirking her left eyebrow at him.

“Come on sweetheart, you know that’s one of the ones you gave me way back when.” Dean answered trying to play it off as one of her normal mixtapes.

“No it’s not. This is the one I lost. In my room. 10 years ago. Now how did you end up with it? Hmmm?” Y/N asked again, squinting her eyes at him to try and intimidate him. Which ended up doing the opposite because Dean thought the face was quite cute and had to hold back his smile.

“I have no idea. I honestly thought it was one of the ones you made for me. Let me see it.” He answered reaching for it and snatching from her hands.

“Hey!” She shouted trying to fight him over it and trying but failing to climb up his body to retrieve it from his outstretched arm.

You two were too busy bickering and playing keep away to notice that Sam had half climbed out of the car and was waiting for you fools to finish.

“Can we finish the drive?” Sam said, throwing his voice so you two would stop.

You two stopped, frozen in a weird position. Somehow you had ended up on Dean’s back like a back pack with your arm outstretched to try and reach the tape from Dean’s right hand. But his left hand was down and around your back/waist so you wouldn’t fall. He slowly turned towards the interrupter while you both looked like a deer in head lights sharing the same surprise.

“Uh yeah.” Dean said, you climbing down and readjusting your shirt and flannel while he cleared his throat and held the cassette between both of his hands.

Y/N climbed back into the back seat, her cheeks flaming with some embarrassment but also because she couldn’t stop thinking about how close she was pressed to Dean. And how even though they were stupidly fighting over a cassette he still made sure she wouldn’t fall on her ass while on his back. Thus spurring her into more of a flush because of how stupidly sweet the gesture was.

Once the boys were loaded back in she caught Dean’s eye in the rear view and he had a caught flush still on his cheeks and ears. So she sent him a wink and the I’m watching you hand movements to let him know they weren’t yet done with that discussion.

“You gonna put that cassette in or are you just gonna keep fiddling with it?” Sam asked Dean. Making Y/N shoot forward to lean her arms on the back rest of the front seat so she could be included in the discussion.

“Yeah Dean. Put it in. I’m sure your brother would love to hear that mixtape.” Y/N added, wishing she could add ‘that I made specifically for when I could fuck you in the back seat here and I drunkinly told you about 10 years ago!’ Sam shot her a look with a small smile tugging at the corner on his mouth.

“Nah, I’ll save that one for later. Let’s just put in this one.” Dean responded after fishing around in the cubby on the door for his Metallica Ride the Lightning cassette but also trying to hide the mixtape deep within the cubby so she wouldn’t ask him about it again. And ignored the other two trying to egg him on.

He cranked the radio as he pulled back on the the small highway and drove on. And they drove none of them opening their mouths about what happened outside or why this mixtape was so damn important.

The sun was about to be up right as the pulled into the gas station two hours from their destination. Sam climbed out to go to the bathroom and grab snacks while Dean made quick work getting gas into Baby. Y/N climbed out on the drivers side, stretching her body and letting out a small moan to see how she could make Dean uncomfortable with that sound. Her shirt rising to just below her bra almost popping up over it exposing them. (She knew of his love of woman and their bodies so she would let him ogle cause that meant if she could get his attention then maybe just maybe he might feel the same, right?)

Which the reaction she got was exactly what she wanted, him shifting himself and coughing to cover up the fact the he did ogle and check her out. And he didn’t mind one but what he saw. He actually loved her body, though would never admit it to her. That would be crossing the line and he wouldn’t do that, would he?

“I gotta pee but I want shotgun once I’m back.” Y/N said, shutting the door and walking to where the bathrooms were on the small building in the middle of nowhere.

‘Shit. She’s gonna wanna talk about the tape, and now they are both awake and he’s gonna have input too. Great. Just great.’ Dean thought.

Sam wandered out and Dean told him Y/N’s request to sit upfront. Which Sam was more than happy to oblige if it meant these two would finally talk about that tape or “fight” they had earlier. So Sam climbed into the back and waited for the rest of the team to join until they could hit the road and disperse the snacks amongst them.

As the clock hit 10:23 they rolled into a small motel in a somewhat small town in northwest New Mexico. Y/N hoped that there was either more than one room or a room with two queens and a sofa.

Dean parked and turned off Baby, turned around towards his brother to shoot him a look to make him get out and get rooms for the three of them so that maybe Dean and Y/N could have alone time really quick.

Sam huffed and climbed out. Rolling his eyes as he went into the small reception area of the even smaller, run down vintage motel.

“Looks like it hasn’t been updated in a few decades. Let’s hope they have a good cleaning crew.” Y/N joked looked out eyeing the small building, bits of the stucco crumbling away from the frame work on portions of the motel. She could see a visible line on the building from where they either gave up painting the building or ran out of paint and didn’t want to go back to get more paint to finish.

“Well it’s home until we find the bones, salt and burn them. So let’s hope you and Sam can figure out who we need to talk to or where we need to go.” Dean said in response. Y/N finally looking at him. Still waiting for Sam to come back.

“Dean, we still haven’t finished that conversation we started earlier. I wanna know how you ended up with that tape.” Y/N said, hoping he won’t put up too much of a fight so they can finally ease whatever this tension is between them.

“Y/N look I-“ Dean started but was interrupted by Sam opening up the door to tell them which room was theirs.

“We got one room, 103, 2 queen beds. Sorry guys, the receptionist said that half the building is falling in on itself cause of the high winds and not enough consist foot traffic to keep up with the repairs. He also-“ Sam started rambling and the two in the front seat turned and looked at him like he was crazy.

“What?” Sam asked very confused.

“Seriously Sammy?!” Y/N asked a little distraught that Dean was about to confess something but was so rudely interrupted by his little brother once again. Dean took this opportunity to exit the car and conversation so he wouldn’t have to confess his feelings.

“What did I do?” Sam asked throwing back the same attitude.

Y/N just turned around and climbed out of the car to help unload the trunk so they could settle into the room and get set up to do what they need to.

“Come on you two it’s not like I interrupted something important right?” Sam asked finally joining you two to carry his share of bags.

Y/N and Dean shot him the same look, one that read seriously dude you know what you did. Y/N’s turned into a pout as she trudged over to number 103 and waited for the two to join her.

Sam fumbled with the key, almost dropping it on to the small mat in front of the door.

“Sam take the bed closest to the bathroom, Y/N you're on whatever bedside as long as it’s between Sam and I.” Dean ordered as Sam got the door to open and they all piled through, Sam dropping his things on the bed closest to the bathroom.

“What?” Y/N asked, very confused, coming to a stop between the two beds and brothers.

“Are you trying to get me to sleep with you Dean? Hmm?” Y/N teased deciding to drop her bags right between the two beds to confuse Dean.

“Well you would be protected on both sides. It’s logic sweetheart.” Dean said, coming up with the perfect excuse like he knew they would be in this exact situation.

Sam was gonna use this distraction so while those two started arguing, he grabbed what he would need to freshen up, and slowly and quietly snuck to the bathroom. But he wanted them to know they were alone so he slowly closed the door then as he got to just about latching it, he gave a little more force so it would latch loudly. Alerting the two knuckleheads.

Which startled the shit out of Y/N, making her jump and realize what exactly happened. The water from the shower started rather loudly at this moment. Dean laughed at her reaction but then also realized and they both looked at each other and blushing heavily. Then as quick as they looked at each other they quickly looked away. Y/N once again chewing on her lip and deciding to squat down in front of her bag and fish out her lore books, note supplies and laptop.

Dean was checking out her ass as subtly as he could, making his hands busy in his duffle. Him searching for agent attire to wear for interviews. He couldn’t help but look at it honestly, Y/N should be proud of that ass, the roundness of it filling out the seat of her jeans so well it’s like they were painted on. Y/N shed her flannel then, tossing onto her pile and stood up to head to the small table with two chairs. Dean had to quickly turn himself back to his bag not realizing he watched her move across the room, his upper body turned to angle towards her.

Y/N sat down and glanced at Dean watching him pretend to be busy. He was so easy to read to her, but she did spend years breaking down his walls to let her in. Which took almost a decade, so it was not an easy feat for either of them.

“So Dean, can you answer me now or will we be interrupted again?” Y/N asked, flipping open to the info she had started collecting for this case.

“Not right now. We gotta focus sweetheart. Maybe later.” He answered coming to sit opposite of her at the table.

“Fine. But just so you know I’m holding you to that. You don’t get to just not answer me.” Y/N said point her pen at him to emphasize her point.

“Now so far we know that there’s a spirit who became upset over something or other. Came back and is now attacking its descendants?” Y/N said flipping through the papers.

“But?” Dean asked, knowing exactly what they needed.

“We need to know first of all where they are, or if there’s an item they are still attached to. And maybe we will find out why the hell they decided to come out of retirement to do this.” Y/N answered, smiling proudly at Dean. He obviously couldn’t keep his smile at bay when he say hers.

‘Fuck she’s perfect.’ Dean thought. Realizing he thought that, quickly shook his head and relaxed his face to not show any emotion or inkling of his thought on his face.

Y/N just gave him a weird look and kept digging through her papers and notes.

“Now there is one descendant we can talk to. But he’s a little hard to get a hold of apparently. So maybe you two need to go pretend to be FBI and see if he’ll talk?” Y/N suggested, hoping that maybe she could see him in that delicious black suit, even though it wasn’t tailored for him he still wore it exceptionally well.

“Probably what we were planning on doing, do you have an address or do we need to track it down? And by we I mean Sam and I. I want you to stay here Y/N. Just in case it’s not safe.” Dean said, staring her down, hoping to show her he means business.

“Seriously?!” Y/N answered, ignoring the first few questions. Obviously pissed off.

“Come on Y/N/N. Your dad just wants to keep you safe, same with me. And if I know you are here and safe then that’s one thing I don’t have to worry about.” Dean responded, hoping she understands.

“Dean. It’s a simple salt and burn. How many of these have just you and I done? This isn’t any different. Why are you being so weird all of a sudden?” Y/N asked irritation making her start to get confrontational.

“I-I… Look I care about you ok. However you want to interpret that.” Dean said, throwing the ball right into her court. Stunning Y/N speechless, her mouth slightly opening in disbelief.

“Well, I-uh.” She started but couldn’t finish. Her brain completely short circuiting on the fact the Dean Winchester ADMITTED, openly admitted his care for her.

Y/N blinked a couple times hoping it would get her brain to reboot fast enough to respond. She had to quickly look down as her blush took over her face and chest.

She was unfortunately too slow, Sam emerging from the bathroom. Steam filtering out with him.

“I hope you didn’t use all the hot water!” Dean said, quickly diverting the attention to Sam. Y/N thanked him because she knew she wouldn’t be able to give him the response she wants to in only a short while.

“No. There should be some left. What’s the plan? Cause I know we should do FBI, but having more than two agents out feels weird. Like how often have we seen three working together in the field?” Sam asked. Dean then shooting a look at Y/N, smirking.

“Fine! I’ll stay here but as soon as you know what I need to research, call me. Then pick me up so I can help dig it up.” Y/N said, throwing up her hands and slumping down in her chair. Her boobs being pushed straight into the table's edge and up into her chin, pouting.

Dean got up, hiding his ogling her and that damn cute face she pulls when she’s frustrated.

Stop. He has to remind himself, walking to his bag and grabbing his things to freshen up.

Sam just watched whatever the hell that was and just kept on doing his thing. He then walked over and took the chair Dean was just occupied.

“So, you gonna finally go for it or…?” Sam asked, gesturing between you and the closed bathroom door.

“Come on Sam. Not now.” Y/N answered.

Sam just sighed, hoping that tonight they would finally quit being idiots and just give in. A plan popped into his head, knowing exactly how to pull this off. He waited for Y/N to fill him in on what he would need for the case, giving him the address to the police station where they would find the officer who could then point them to the descendant.

He waited for Dean to finish up so they could head out. Sam decided to take this time to map out his plan to get those two together, alone. Cause he definitely does not want to be anywhere near them when they finally bump uglies.

What he thought he could do was pretend to get food poisoning from lunch(if they figured out what and where they needed to salt and burn), then those two would have to confront what they needed to.

Dean startled the pair by bursting into the room, hair still damp. He was fixing his tie as he walked out.

“We almost ready to go?” Dean asked, not like he was the one taking his sweet ass time in the bathroom.

“Just waiting on you.” Sam answered getting up from the table. Dean just scoffed in response and shrugged his jacket on.

Nice. Y/N thought, openly checking out Dean cause man did he wear the fuck out whatever he was in, whether it be casual, relaxed or dressed up. He made those clothes look like they were made to accentuated his form.

The pants hanging off of his waist to then flow down off of his perky ass, because yes it is perky, to then flow to his long legs. The jacket added to his presence, his shoulders filling it out and making the fabric stretch lightly over the muscles. God damn. Y/N just bit her lip and looked up.

Dean was making eye contact with her now because she was too busy eye fucking him. He just smirked and raised an eyebrow.

Y/N quickly looked away face burning from being caught. Sam just quietly laughed at their antics cause fucking finally. They’ve been doing this little stupid song and dance for over a decade. Neither taking the fucking chance to step in a different direction for their relationship.

“Alright sweetheart, we will see you later. I’ll cal if we find anything.” Dean said making the final pt down of phone wallet keys before they make their exit.

“Yeah yeah whatever.” Y/N said waving them off, opening up her computer.

The boys headed out while she turned it on, and choose to stare down the device instead of making eye contact with either man while they exited. She didn’t want to show how truly hurt she was she didn’t get to play special agent but she understood how it would look weird with three agents walking about.

She quickly clicked her internet open and found MySpace as well as the link she saved pertaining to this case. The former was obviously just to pass the time cause how hard is it not to get sucked into that world.

She didn’t realize how much time had passed until she heard an absurd sound coming from her pile of belongings. Luckily it’s loud enough to hear, but fuck! She walked over and quickly tried to find the smaller object before it stopped its shrill song.

She found it and held it up in success. Waving it slightly before flipping it open and pressing it to her ear.

“Hello?” Y/N asked.

“Hey sweetheart, we got the lead we needed and are gonna head over there after we grab some lunch.” Dean rushed out, the sound of a car honking behind him.

Y/N figured he was taking his sweet time crossing the street making the driver upset enough to honk at him. Which would mean he was stuck in his own little world while on the phone with her.

“Yeah? Anything I can try to find for you two while you’re out?” Y/N asked, hoping maybe she could be of assistance in some way.

“No we got it covered. It seems like a very easy cut and dry case. I’ll give you a call once I know more, ok?” Dean answered.

“Alright well I guess I’ll talk to you later.” Y/N grumbled, obviously a little upset that she was now stuck in the shitty motel room until later.

So she flopped on the bed Dean claimed and grabbed the remote from the nightstand and started pressing buttons until one of them made the ancient tv turn on. She fumbled with it until she could find something that wasn’t too fuzzy or obscure.

She fell asleep and ended up being woken up by the deadbolt clicking and the door squeaking open. She sat up, her hair hanging around her face while she tried to collect herself.

The lights flicked on as the two boys made themselves more comfortable. Sam making a quick beeline for the bathroom once he shed his jacket.

“Morning sweetheart. Sorry to wake you abruptly but it looks like it might just be you and me going to dig up ye old sanders from the counties graveyard. Sammy seems to have eaten something that didn’t quite agree with him.” Dean said pointing to the bathroom as he came and sat on the foot of the bed facing the tv, starting to unbutton his collared shirt. His duffle open enough for him to dig around for his next set of flannel and plain black tee.

Y/N finally collected herself enough before she peaked out from behind her hair, seeing the naked back on Dean making her straighten her back. Realizing if she had the balls she could reach out and touch his soft freckled back and feel his muscles react to her touch. But she didn’t because she knew she would have to change into something easier to maneuver in if she was gonna be digging up a corpse.

“Sammy hurry up! I gotta change!” Y/N bellowed as she slid herself out of the bed and to her duffle, searching through to pull out a long sleeve crop and some yoga pants. Knowing that most of her clothes matched and she could just throw the same flannel over her new outfit.

Sam came out grumbling and holding his stomach. It was almost too real to be real. Y/N squinted at him knowing he may have been faking.

A topic for another time. She thought, quickly shuffling over to the bathroom to make quick work of his exile. Not wanting to linger too long in his “stinky” bathroom either.

She came out almost falling over trying to readjust her socks so they sat properly on her toes cause nothing was worse then the chaffing of the seam on her feet when she was busy doing shit. And god forbid she had to book it out of the situation.

“Let’s get this over with.” She exclaimed grabbing her boots and flannel to head out to the impala. Wanting to get this night over with. Sam just smirked knowing his plan was working perfectly!

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

With the salt and burn finished and the grave filled back in, Dean and Y/N walked back to the impala that was tucked behind some bushes so anyone off the main road wouldn’t see it and be suspicious. Dean opened the trunk, they threw the shovels inside and Dean slammed the trunk closed. They each make their way to the front doors on Baby and climb in once unlocked.

Y/N thought they were sitting quietly while they recovered from the manual labor they just had to do with only two people instead of three-'Thanks Sam, of course you have food poisoning. Not.’ Y/N thought. What Y/N didn’t know was Dean was fishing around in the cubby to find the tape he hid earlier, so he could finally air everything out. He found the one he was looking for, ejected the current one and switched it for his personal favorite. He increased the volume slightly but not enough to drown out what he was gonna say.

The opening melody of Change in the House of Flies by Deftones starts drifting through the air. Dean drove off looking for a more secluded pet of town where he and Y/N could be alone.

“Y/N I just want you to have an open mind for what I’m about to say so please just listen.” Dean rushed out.

“Okay?” Y/N responded very confused by his statement. She watched as he pulled to out of the town and found a small secluded park where he knew no one would look for them.

“Y/N I want you to understand how much we appreciate you and your help with the research and hunts. And I know we’ve had some weird spots you and I but I think the only reason we had those weird spots was cause we’re both too chicken shit to actually admit to each other how we really feel. So when you told me you had a special mixtape for if and when we actually were intimate I just had to jump on that and figure out what exactly you meant. And well Sam did mention one time I should really listen to the songs you put on these to better understand what you were trying to tell me. And well he wa–is right. Right?” Dean rambled. Y/N fidgeted with the tear in her pants by the front pocket. Her teeth playing with her bottom lip.

“Dean, I-I don’t know what to even say. I’m surprised you even remember me telling you that, we were three sheets to the wind off of a few beers. But Sam was right, ya know? I picked specific songs that I would love to fuck to and maybe thought you would enjoy them as well? But I didn’t know you felt the same way as I did so I only made that tape for myself. So I’m assuming you saw it on my desk after I fell asleep and you snuck out of my room? Hmm?” Y/N asked, shifting her body so they were facing one another on the bench seat. Y/N she’s her flannel leaving her in a similar crop top to earlier but this time it was a deep red. She looked so good in red, and fuck seeing her dirty from the grave digging just added to her whole sexual aura.

“Your dad would have killed us if he woke up and we were both in there. I’m wouldn’t be surprised if he killed us if he found out we talked about this topic of you and I.” Dean replied with his devilish smirk. I wonder what she’s got on underneath, it’s gotta be good especially with how supported they looked. He let his rake over her form.

Taking his sweet time to admire her and her beauty. God she really is just perfect. He noticed how her breathing picked up, a grin lighting up her already flushed face. Eyes sparkling with want and lust.

“You want there to be a you and I?” Y/N inquired, her arms crossing under her boobs to cover her stomach so she could squeeze herself for comfort if he rejected her.

“Y/N you are all I want. Fuck, the things I would do to you if you let me. Especially to these songs, cause baby girl you are one naughty girl.” Dean answered as the song flowed from Change in the House to God of Thunder by Kiss. His fists clenching and unclenching trying to figure out if he should grab her hand or play with her hair.

“Oh. Do tell Dean cause we’re both visual learners.” Y/N teased hoping to hide her surprise from his response. ‘He wants me too? Fuck!’ She thought. It didn’t help she thought he was too fucking hot that it should be illegal and she wanted nothing more than to leave marks on his beautiful skin to have reminders of what they were doing secretly.

Dean reached out to her, pushing hair out of her face and rested his arm on the back rest, drawing small circles on her shoulder.

“Babygirl, where do I even start? Do I start with the slow make out, you straddling me in the back seat. Our bodies pressed together so tight you don’t even know if we’re separate people or one whole person. I would love to take it nice and slow with you the first time. We wouldn’t know how to breathe without the other at how connected we’d be, everything would be shared. Our air, our skin, fuck the softness of your skin as I run my hands under your shirt. I’d have a hard time going slow though.” Dean started not wanting to give away all of his thoughts yet.

“Well Baby, who says you would be the lead, whose to say I wouldn’t have you melting under my touch, whimpering for more.” Y/N responded, scooching closer to Dean, noticing the swallow bob his Adam’s apple.

“You’d like that huh? Being dominated? Me in charge?” Y/N teased further. And it took everything in Dean not to whimper because he would LOVE that.

He shook his head, clearing that fantasy out.

“Another time. Tonight I wanna worship you and your fucking glorious body.” Dean said grabbing her by the front of her shirt over to him. Making her fall into his chest, pushing her boobs into him. The melody switching again into Closer by Nine Inch Nails.

“Fuck. Get in the back seat. Now.” Y/N muttered, trying her best to climb back, not ruin the seats with her boots, and also not kick Dean in the face.

Dean too rushed to get back there and get under her cause tonight he wanted to feel every inch of her against him. He grabbed her by her hips and pulled her into his lap. Smacking her left ass cheek, making it sting slightly. Y/N couldn’t help but gasp and thrust her hips down onto him. Feeling the very present bulge in his pants.

Her mouth met his, the soft pink lips smushing together and fighting to each other. Small moans and gasps escaping every once in awhile. Y/N rolled her hips, seeking the friction it brought but also seeking that urge to get closer to Dean. He would every couple of hip rolls thrust to give her a different angle of friction, making her release a shiver and deep moan.

Dean kept kissing her, from her mouth, to her cheek, over her jawline and to her neck. His face smushing into her skin because he didn’t want to leave her skin. Being completely intoxicated by everything she was. His hands worked their way from her ass to her sides to her boobs and god he couldn’t wait to feel them with no layers inbetween. They looked like heaven and felt like heavens and he was more than willing to bet she tasted like heaven too.

“Dean. If we keep going at this rate, I don’t think we’re gonna make it to taking our clothes off. Please baby.” Y/N pleaded, struggling to make a coherent thought. She was high with how he was touching her, his hands rough but gentle against her. Making her completely forget about the fact that she felt undesirable half the time because right now she could care less what others think, cause if Dean was making her feel this way she could forget about all those other mean fuckers out there.

“Ok, ok. Let's just collect ourselves and figure out the next move.” Dean said continuing to grab and massage any part of her body he could touch.

He grabbed her shirt and pulled it off her body, throwing it into the front seat. He grabbed her chin and brought her mouth to his, their teeth clicking with how ferocious it was. He was working on her bra when she went for his shirt to pull off. This time she pulled him to her pressing their naked chests together. Her arms wrapping around his neck and head and he worked his hands around her waist to pull her more flush against him. He took the opportunity to flip them and press her back into the vinyl seat. Adjusting the two of them, now rolling his hips to press the hard, heavy bulge into her way too heavily clothed core. Making her whimper into his mouth as her body shivered with need.

They made quick work of each others pants, her hands working on his belt, button and fly. Working her hands around and over his lower back muscles. Her hands finding his back dimples, then gliding down under the elastic of his boxer briefs and cupping his ass cheeks and helping him roll into her core and clit more. Meanwhile, he was massaging her ass cheeks through her leggings, loving how soft and valumputious it get in his palms. He couldn’t wait to get her bare and fuck her tight pussy. So he grabbed the pants by waistband with the panties as well and yanked down until they were to her knees. She continued to kick until they were completely off but she hadn’t been able to get her boots off so they were currently stuck around her ankles while his had yet to worked off as well.

“I love you Y/N. I need you to look at me baby. You tell me at any point to stop and we will stop. Okay?” Dean said nudging his nose into her temple. Pulling his pants down swiftly before settling a over her, his member at attention and resting on her lower tummy. His velvety tips leaking a bead of precum. She didn’t have the chance this night to actually look at him in all his glory but if she did she would see a perfectly girthy and sized cock. Not being ridiculously huge to where it hurt but enough to get a good stretch and sting. That would settle into pure bliss because Dean was well endowed and he sure knew how to use it.

She opened her eyes to look at him, because now she could finally look at him up close and while they are both awake. Fuck he’s gorgeous. The freckles that accented every feature. His eyes completely blown with lust and admiration. Even with how dark it was where they parked, she could still make out the stunning color of jade. She took her right hand and traced it from his cheekbone, over his brows and nose down to his soft plump lips, taking her thumb to drag it across and down his jaw cupping his face. His one arm caging you into the backseat while the other massaged your breast. Enjoying the weight and softness.

“Baby, I’m an idiot for taking too long to make a move. I love you Dean. I need you inside of me, now.” Y/N confessed. Dean smashed his mouth into her, pouring everything he’s ever felt for her into that kiss, taking his dominate hand and snaking it between the two of you to find you soaking wet to the point that it’s almost leaking down your ass crack onto the seat cushion.

“So ready for me already baby?” Dean asked as middle finger glided into you making you gasp and roll you hips seeking more friction.

“More.” Was all you and your brain could say. Dean adding his pointer to the needy hole. Grinning as he kissed his way along your chest.

“Such a good girl, so needy and wet. All for me.” He mumbled into you collarbone. Fingers working that soft spongy part inside you that when played with just right makes your toes curl and supernovas flash in the backs of your eyelids.

“Dean, I wanna come on your cock not your fingers. Please.” Y/N whined. Dean stopped his ministrations and grabbed his tip to slip through her folds and slick.

Dean then steadied himself to her opening and used his hand to stroke her lips open to find her clit. So as he thrust into her he could ease the stinging sensation with pleasure.

And boy did he bring pleasure.

Every roll of his hips he somehow sunk deeper into her, every stroke of his thumb would ease him in more, and when she was fully relaxed with him, he was deep. They both needed a minute because they both shivered as their mouths fell open in ecstasy.

“Fuck, we should have done this sooner.” Dean mumbled against her lips.

“Mhm, we can worry about that later. Now fuck me like you mean it.” Y/N tried urging him by also rolling her hips to make him move again.

He just pushed up with the hand that isn’t between them and a low grumble almost animalistic came from deep in his chest. Pulling out to just the tip and rolling deliciously back in. Starting to set a pace that would quickly lead to release. He increased the pressure on her clit but started to rub a mix of tight circles and more open slow circles. Trying to bring you up and over the orgasmic edge before him.

You started to squirm underneath him, adding your own roll of your hips to help spur him on, matching the tempo he chose. He threw your leg up higher on his hip, the adjustment causing him to hit a new angle inside of you. Each snap sending a shockwave literally and figuratively up your body. You soft tummy and boobs matching the rhythm of thrusting.

You could tell you were both getting closer and closer to that edge of ecstasy. Y/N reached up her right hand to grasp his arm holding her leg up, wanting more of a connection to Dean while they ride into bliss. Her other hand grabbed her boob, fingers finding her nipple and rolling it. Dean watched on with awe, his pace starting to stutter because imagining Y/N playing with herself is one thing, it’s a completely different thing to watch it happen in person. And fuck was it amazing.

As his pace started slipping he started to collapse over Y/N and brace himself again, but this time pressing her leg down with him. Folding it and making her hold it open for him so he could fully support himself.

His face found its home in the crook of her neck, his small grunts and moans reaching her ears. Spurring her to help him help her cum.

With a few more circles of her clit and rolls of the hips they reached bliss, their orgasms breaching their peak and tumbling over that cliff.

Y/N choked out gasps as Dean moaned deep into her neck, his hips sputtering as his seed coated her pussy from the inside out, her own juices mixing with his adding to the mess. Their heavy breathing also adding to the fog on the windows.

Definitely gonna have to drive with the windows down. Dean and Y/N thought.

“So worth the wait.” Y/N huffed out as Dean slowly peeled their body’s apart, them both cringing as his soft cock slipped from the mess they made between her legs.

Dean couldn’t agree more. He sat back on his haunches and searched for his shirt to try and wipe up the mess of fluids making their escape.

“You definitely get first shower when we’re back.” Dean quipped as he swiped at her sensitive folds, her hissing at the contact on the overly stimulated flesh.

He helped her sit up and find clothes. Dean shimmied his pants back into place. Her handing him the flannel and him handing her a shirt. What they didn’t notice is Y/N handed Dean her flannel instead of his so she ended up with his. Dean helped balance Y/N while she untangled herself from the leggings and boot situation until they were placed back on properly.

A phone started to ring from the front seat breaking the two from their time in the back seat. Dean dived over trying to get to it incase it was Sammy in danger. Y/N stayed in the back, trying to locate her bra and the used shirt to crumple up and hide so she could throw them into her duffle as inconspicuously as she could once they got back.

“Hello?” Dean asked quickly, not even having it pressed to his face in the rush of opening it.

“Dean, where the hell are you guys?!” Y/N could hear Sam ask loudly from the phone.

“Uh we’re almost done? About to load up and head back. We’ll see you soon.” Dean responded way too quickly and then shut the device before his brother could even respond.

“Come on sweetheart we gotta head back. I got a flannel right here for you.” Dean said offering his hand to help her climb up front.

Y/N settled in up front, Dean switching tapes so he could once again hide the special tape. Y/N not knowing that he now cherishes it. She just scootched closer to him and cuddled into his arm, wanting closeness. Dean openly welcoming it and entwining their fingers on the hand that wasn’t resting on the steering wheel.

The ride back to the motel was quiet besides the soft sounds of Metallica playing. Once they pulled in to the Motels lot, Dean parked and shut off Baby. But didn’t make a move to get out. So they sat for a second until Dean decided to break the quiet.

“Y/N, I-I don’t want that to be a one time thing. Or for you to think that.” He said, turning his head to look at her.

“Oh, ok.” Was all she could say, fiddling with the thread that was loose on the end of the flannel.

“Baby I don’t think you understand. I want you. Monogamy, the whole thing.” Dean said, hoping she understood.

“Really?” She asked turning to look at him now.

“Really.” Dean assured her and grabbed her hand to hold.

She just smiled, beaming at him with adoration.

“Comeon let’s not keep Sam waiting. He’s probably freaking out.” Y/N said grabbing the discarded clothes and getting out. Dean following her out and to room 103.

When they turned the key and finally opened the door, they were not expecting Sam to be sitting and waiting at the foot of his bed. When he heard the door opening he straightened his posture and just started grinning wildly.

“What the hell? I thought you were sick?” Dean asked coming in and throwing his leather jacket onto his bed. Y/N throwing the discarded clothes from earlier into her open duffle.

“Nope.” Was all he said, eyeing his brother and best friend. Realizing they switched flannels and their hair was messed up in a way that revealed what they were doing in the back seat.

“Well I’m glad you’re feeling better but it would have been easier with three people to dig his old ass up.” Y/N quipped flopping down onto the bed she chose earlier.

“Yeah well I don’t exactly think it would have been as fun after. At least not for me.” Sam replied, leaning back onto his forearm to eye Y/N.

“I mean seeing as how you both have each others flannels on and the obvious sex hair.” Sam added.

Y/N eyes bulging from her head, not even realizing they somehow switched flannels in the dash to get redressed. And she hasn’t taken the time to fix her hair, nor Deans, to help hide the fact they desecrated the back seat.

“Well um-uh.” Y/N stammered. Trying to catch Deans attention to help her but he was too lost staring down at the bed with a bright blush on his cheeks.

“It’s fine you two. It’s very obvious with how you two are to each other and neither of you were gonna make that first move. So I may have faked being sick so you two could have alone time.” Sam answered, throwing you some help.

Dean finally looked up at Y/N and just smiled.

“Well thanks Sam. Took you long enough to get tired of our shit though.” Dean replied, teasing Sam.

The two brothers started to bicker playfully and Y/N just closed her eyes.

I could get used to this. Y/N thought, relaxing and excited for where this road will lead.

~~~~~~~~

A/N—Thoughts? Not proofread entirely so don’t hate me. Hits been a moment since I’ve written!

[carbootsoul]

The biggest clues to an inspection of the prince myth are colors. Utena is liberal with its color symbolism, and the flat, primary shades in the myth’s shadow-box visuals are a blatant use of them. Also, since Utena’s color symbolism is semi-internal (e.g. while a lot of connotations are external, like yellow for innocence, the most significant applicability of them are things formed by association within the show, like the combination between purple and a particular pair of siblings), the prince myth is our first introduction to these colors and their logic in Utena. Starting with a blank slate, what is the first impression it wants us to have of its shades? Like all mythic symbols, they’re providing a basis for how we will interact with these elements for the rest of our time in this story. Let’s begin our color examination with the opening scene, after a quick aside on the general visual style.

Like a shadowbox, the figures in the prince myth are paper cut-outs moving in front of a flat background, so while there’s significant detail within each layer, the layers don’t interact. Instead, they’re completely flat, casting a simple shadow on the backdrop. In Plato’s allegory of the cave (which we may as well get over with), prisoners are born into a dark cave with a view of one wall, onto which objects are projected by unseen captors. These captors say the names of the objects that pass, and the association between the objects and the names produce the prisoner’s reality. This is false reality, and fake “knowledge,” but to the prisoners nothing else exists. In the shadow box, we seem to see both the objects and their shadows (the cut outs and the real shadow), but the figures themselves and the intervening “real” moments where the false myth breaks to show Utena’s real memory show the second, more important, layer of cast shadows. The shadow box scene itself is enclosed within a silhouetted frame, and complex figures (like people) are pure black. The fact that the same things are happening between the shadow figures and the real memory show that the memory is clearly casting these shadows, but it’s not clear what is truly happening in the moments when the shadow reality takes over. (Looking forward to the rest of the show, like in Plato’s allegory, the real question is not necessarily “what do the shadows refer to,” which can eventually be answered by walking out of the cave, but by “what will the prisoners prefer? The real world, or the shadows?”)

The use of black as a silhouette also establishes right away that black in the show is always in relation to light—as a shadow, yes, but maybe more accurately as the real object whose details are obscured by light. A silhouetted object is the true object, but the fact that it’s in front of a bright light means that our eyes can’t focus in on it. In this case, we might say that the prince (Dios) is a real object, but the brightness of emotion and desire Utena has infused this memory with silhouette his reality. All that's left is the shadow memory. (This comparison may prove helpful in looking at the Black Rose arc, whose duelists are less shadowy than obscured by the brightness of desire).

Also right away, we’re faced with pink roses over a pastel green curtain. These are not Utena’s pink, but a lightened red, and since it’s our first time seeing this color, I don’t have much to say on it. Likewise with the pastel green, although I do want to note that it seems significant that the show opens with a color we associate mostly with Saionji: an indication that, like Nanami, he is more essential to understanding Utena than we might think. If I were to hazard a guess, I would say that green may refer to ignorance—why it’s paired with innocent yellow here and, of course, why it’s given to Saionji, who is stubbornly oblivious to Ohtori’s rules.

“Once upon a time... there was a princess grieving over the deaths of her mother and father.”

The first few lines present a classic basis for any story of preteen sexuality—sorry, I meant any fairy tale. They’re not only a clear indicator that this isn’t real life, but also present us with Utena’s orphan status as her initial trait. This is a psychoanalytic story, despite the near total absence of parental figures, and nothing plays a more vital backstage role than family. The little princess, of course, is wearing yellow (and here, again, is Saionji’s pastel rose green on her collar).

“Before this princess appeared a prince traveling upon a white horse. His appearance gallant, and his smile gentle…”

A white-clothed prince on a white horse, against a white background, emerges to save her. Here is our first true introduction to white, which is inarguably the most important color to the show. All other colors are adulterated with it in Anthy’s roses or contrasted with it in the Student Council uniform. Note that it isn’t the young princess who wears pure white, but the prince: white is not a color you’re born into, but one you aspire toward, perpetually bleaching the fainter and fainter yellow out of your dress. White is an ideal color, not something actually wearable, and the pure white of the prince in the myth only doubles down on the impossibility of the story. (Also, note the red interior of the cape, even in Dios: a strand of Touga’s chauvinism in the princely ideal, or an indication that there is something genuine Touga is trying to emulate?)

“The prince enveloped the princess in the scent of roses, and wiped away her tears. ‘Little one bearing up alone under grief, never lose that strength or nobility, even when you grow up’ [he said].”

As the prince kneels to embrace the princess, the rosebuds in the background burst into bloom. With the death of her parents, the princess’s sense of the world’s meaning was destroyed. The cracks in the version of reality she had—a glimpse the true objects outside of the cave—began to show themselves. Impossible to handle even for adults, the young princess falls into a depression and searches desperately for a way to obscure this truth from herself, which she finds in the prince and his command: “Never lose that strength or nobility, even when you grow up.” William James, discussing the “process of inner incompleteness and reducing inner discord,” refers to this emergence from depression as the new birth, which may be religious or “produced by the irruption into the individual’s life of some new stimulus or passion, such as love, ambition, cupidity, revenge, or patriotic devotion.” The princess’s new birth, prompted by the prince, could be any of those things, and it’s perhaps because of this shift that we’re able to see our first glimpse of the real memory between her and Dios. Whatever it is, it is what saves her from an orphan's depression, and so becomes the grounding force in her life. Nothing she has can exist without faith in this moment: the prince is the thing keeping the entire system together.

The phrase “even when you grow up” feels very significant. I would say it has its fingers in too many pies to discuss here—in a story about adolescence, the idea of those virtues we lose as we age is essential to our founding myth. Is the fact that Utena changed as she grew older the reason she can't achieve the princely ideal? It's haunting, true or not.

"’I give you this to remember this day. We will meet again. This ring will lead you to me, one day.’ Could the ring from the prince have been an engagement ring?”

Then, the symbolic engagement, with the prince’s white gloves sliding a ring onto (real) Utena’s hand. The true memory says “I give you this to remember this day” and then—crucially—the scene switches and it is the shadow who says “this ring will lead you to me, one day.” Dios, this unattainable ideal which Utena bases her life around, has truly left her something to remember him by, something she will never leave behind: her desire. However, it’s only the false shadow memory which tells her that the ring will lead her to him. It’s the eternal hope of every young person that the overwhelming desire you feel, which seems both focused and directionless, is an indication that it will one day be fulfilled. It’s a message from your prince. This stubborn hope that the need for something means that it is meant to be yours, is what keeps all of the Ohtori students we meet spinning on their hamster wheels.

"Because of the strength of her admiration for the prince,  the princess made up her mind to become a prince herself! But was that really such a good idea?"

As the princess watches the prince ride away, the red roses of the frame are replaced with white ones, before finally becoming the familiar Utena pink, as the shadow version of her stands proudly on screen in princely dress. The myth is over: the story begins.

The twist at the end of the myth is simple misdirection: rather than a desire to have the prince, Utena desires to become him. This confusion, which seems on the surface like a ridiculous misunderstanding, is instrumental to nearly every conflict on the show. Yes, it’s a gendered confusion, but it’s also a natural lack of knowledge about what exactly will fulfill the desire for the princely ideal. We see it most overtly in Utena, but every student council member expresses it in their own way: do you want Anthy (to be the prince), or do you want to have her position (to be the princess), or do you want to somehow merge with her into one through an exchange diary (to be and have at the same time)? When one method fails, maybe the other will work, the student council thinks. Sadly for them, the shadow girl’s rhetorical question applies to all: you cannot just make your mind up to be a prince. He and the princess are only shadows. The more you grasp at them, the flatter they will show themselves to be.

[hunters-vigil]

The Archon's Baby - Chapter 23 - Ghosts

First Chapter Previous Chapter

Warnings: pregnant!reader, post-war recovery of the nation, mentions of rehabilitation following the loss of a limb, inaccurate medical talk about twin pregnancy, Mavuika's impending death, mentions of dead NPCs, Ajaw being foul with derogatory language.

Fic under the cut, don't repost my stuff on other platforms, i have ao3. Reader is not the traveller. Reader's adoptive sisters are Chasca and Chuychu.

It had been a week since you had that conversation with Xilonen, helping Chasca and Chuychu organise supplies to be transported to each of the tribes for each of the rebuilds. The Flower-Feather Clan was the worst affected out of all of them, with your parents sending updates with messengers from the Scions of the Canopy.

During that week, Chasca had been heading out into the wilds, Chuychu stayed at home with your parents, doing her rehabilitation with your little iktomisaur's help, while you received another check-up and scan, hoping to get more details on your sixteen week twins. Mavuika had asked when you two could know the twins' genders, but that wasn't for another few weeks. The later you two left it, the more accurate it may be, said the obstetrician, but there was a detail you could know.

"I can tell you about the placenta, it seems in your case that twin A and twin B share a placenta but have their own sacs. This is means we'll have to do extensive ultrasound monitoring to keep an eye on each twin's growth and development."

"So, are they identical twins then?" you asked, but your question went unanswered as the obsetrician continued to speak, their gaze more on Mavuika than you, despite you being the pregnant one.

"We'll have to send a commission to get a specialist from Sumeru, you'll need more monitoring too after that incident during the war."

"More monitoring?" Mavuika frowned slightly, waiting for more elaboration.

"The stress of the war, your blood pressure and heartrate are being monitorred, especially with the risk of pre-eclampsia, also the sharing of the placenta has its own risks. There's also some other things we need to look at, but we can talk about that with those after I get these photos sorted."

"Thank you. That's good to know..." You nodded, watching Mavuika from the corner of your eye, noticing how quiet she had gotten as the obstetrician left momentarily.

"You feeling okay?" you reached over, your hand gently resting against Mavuika's cheek, fingertips stroking her cheekbone as she blinked, leaning into your touch instinctively.

She only hummed in reply, enjoying the warmth from your hand as you smiled slightly, ignoring the tug at your heart. In all this time, Mavuika probably never expected to be in this position. To be so close to death, to her friends and family she left behind and lost 500 years ago, to leave behind her friends and family now. But a part of her may want this, want to see her sister Hine again, wanted to see her parents again, her friends, Burkina, Tenoch, Sanhaj, Menilek, Sundjatta, Wanjiru, and Tupac. It didn't matter who she may see again after, Mavuika was doing this for Natlan...

After all this war and fighting, Mavuika deserved peace and love...

"Mavuika..." your voice woke her from her daze, eyes flashing open at your tone, but you only steeled your features, "I love you, I am proud of you, and I will always love you and always be proud of you."

Her eyebrows furrowed, mouth opening to respond but you shook your head, not needing her to reply.

"Never forget that, please."

She slipped back into her daze, memories of her mother and sister seeing her before she sacrificed her life to the sacred flame...

The obstetrician soon returned to go over things and arranging a planned birth, but Mavuika couldn't focus, barely hearing what you were asking about. 36 weeks if no complications? She would probably be long dead by then...

You heard her heels as you shuffled to sit up better, the obstetrician long gone as you wiped the gel from your belly and pulled your clothes back to cover yourself after having another talk about foetal growth and looking at some images of your twins. You didn't expect Mavuika to pull you into a hug, her hands rested on your back, holding your close as she buried her face in your neck, hiding her expression.

"It's okay, we'll be okay..." you cooed, playing with her hair as you held her.

///

That appointment was still in Mavuika's head, as she decided to check in on you organising supplies, Chasca and Chuychu retreating after you gave them enough doe-eyed looks to leave. The Archon didn't hesitate to pull you into her arms, but the moment didn't last long.

"Archon? I apologise, I can come back later-" Kinich's eyes widened as he walked in, witnessing the Archon in such a tender embrace with you.

"It's fine, Kinich, how are you doing? Are you injured? Or am I needed at the Scions of the Canopy?"

"I'm fine. Xilonen asked me to deliver a letter addressed to you both-" Kinich cut himself off, about to whack Ajaw as he noticed the pixelated creature was about to speak, while looking directly at you.

"Ajaw." Mavuika warned him, watching the pixelated dragon begin to squirm.

"What? Can I not acknowledge your concubine, I mean, mother of your offspring, who I will one day rule over- I... can I not acknowledge the mother of your unborn children?" Ajaw scrambled to speak, but Mavuika beat him to it, sending him away.

"Thank you for bringing the letter..." you trailed off, nose crinkling up at what Ajaw had been rambling, especially the implication of calling you that. A word that always managed to get Mavuika to glare coldly at whoever said it.

"No problem. I apologise that Ajaw made you uncomfortable. I will see you two around." Kinich nodded to you both before leaving.

"Xilonen has requested for us to meet her at the Children of Echoes. Apparently she has news to give us in person, interesting, after the events in her tribe that Pacal told me about." Mavuika raised an eyebrow, looking to you as you only shrugged.

"That... might be a bit of a trek, you could go on Flamestrider, but I think my sisters would have a heart attack, and also kill you if I was anywhere near your bike. If I set off now... I could get there before dinner and meet you?" You suggested, but Mavuika shook her head.

"I don't like the idea of you walking that far alone. So we'll walk there together. The exercise will do us both good, but we have to be careful of your joints... Iansan already gave me an earful about that. I do wonder what Xilonen has to say..." Mavuika tapped her fingers against your arm in thought, keeping you close to her.

"Since when was Iansan knowledgeable about pregnancy... oh, pregnancy and exercise, yeah, I get it now..." You trailed off, wondering whether you should be asking Iansan questions that the remaining Natlan obstetricians weren't answering. If only Mayahuel had lived...

[practicedvmm13fullofpotatoes]

All of sfth's improvized plays described by someone with bad/selective memory (but remembers 90% of the sentences they make up) pt. 5

21) The Neighbour's Under the Bed

Football!! And murder!! And pretend straight sex between men!! And children who were just dragged into this!! Get them a new home to live in, they don't deserve to be mistreated like they were in the play!! Janae's seismogram is real!! Don't just shrug it off!! AND DON'T HAVE SEX IN THE RECORDING STUDIO WITH ALL THE MICS ON!!

Bonus: lines that I just have burned into my brain at this point

★ "The entire east wing was destroyed T∆T"

★ "Darling" "Yeh?" "Look into my eyes" "•v•" "Does mommy love you?" "Do I have to look at both of them at once or just one? I CAN TRY DOING BOTH AT ONCE" "Stop being a f-- weirdo" "Be normal, my little munchkin." "Okay :)" "My little, little.." "Munchkin :D"

★ "Yes, and I'll sleep with Timothée Chalamet" "How is that going to help the racoons?" "It won't. It's gonna be good, though!"

★ "You don't do the nipple thi-- I do the nipple thing"

★ "mmmMY BODY IS A TEMPLE TO DESTRUCTION. AN ENGINE OF WAR! (I'm not done). A PYRAMID HOUSING THE HATRED OF THOUSANDS. A STADIUM WITH A ROAR OF RRRAGE BECOMES THE BITTER JUICE OF DESOLATION. MAKE A CUCKOLDRESS OF ME. ENGORGE HIM AND HAVE HIM ENTE-- no wait-- ENGORGE HER AND HAVE YOURSELF ENTER HER.. tonight.. i feel a bit faint"

★ "He shoots he scores!" "AUGH"

★ "Me and your father are fucking"

★ "I'M HOLDING IT IN MY HAND!"

★ "You're a strong woman. Like Patrick Stewart"

★ "Are you still awake, Johnny?" "Yes, yes 👹. cough Yes, yes 😇"

★ "AUGH, TELEPORT ME, TELEPORT ME!" "All I hear was something about "comes into the--" and I didn't like it! D:" "W-w-w-w-w-w-w-why are they doing it in the recording studio with all the mics on?!" "We have to do something! I'm 8 and you're 15, between us--"

★ "I saw it on my fire-mogram!"

★ "Final death twitches" (Tom just wanted to do something. NOPE. SHE'S DEAD)

★ "It's like the sixth sense that my child has but I've got it too 'cause it's fucking genetic!"

22) The Milkman

Innuendos and a kid who just wants to go outside like a healthy child. And AJ being the most confusingly confused mf. No, but what the fuck is this man saying help. And also, the guy behind the bar whatever the fuck his name was just. Bonded with the unnamned businessman father

23) Beetroots & Murder

18 year old just. Gets arrested for mass arson. I mean, sure, he did actually cause the fire but like. In the new timeline, no he did not. Then again, in the original timeline, he just. Crashed the entire fucking truck full o’ gas-o-line.

Or, Big Dick, the MC that doesn't get named throughout the entire fucking play, gets arrested for burning down the good half of Somerset. The Spirit of Somerset (and his friend) send him back in time to change the past (and himself). Justin bullies the guy because why the fuck not (he's just traumatized and lashing out because he lost his parents in a fire and maybe because saw BD having what he wants in life so he's jealous and belittles him to make himself feel better because why does this guy have all the things he wants? Like, living parents and… Parents who weren't cremated in a massive house fire…). André Beetroot, the host of the beetroot competition, in the new timeline ends up starting the fire and years later they make up and The Spirit of Somerset ends up becoming the Spirit of Ireland

24) Susan's Holiday

Mild toxic masculinity and flirting and cats and apologies!! And an uber that can just. Change where the wheel is??

25) The Evil Make-a-wish Kid

Evil kid with cancer fucks shit up with the help of the evil Make-a-wish foundation. Kills his mother, his father's animals at a petting zoo he works (well, worked) at, posted what a detective's mother said about gender, and then fucking died. Wow. I wish more kids were d-- no

Prev // Next

[tweltchy]

Jurassic Park Movie: Scientifically accurate dinosaurs in a theme park run by a nice old dude who just wants to make a fun place. Things go wrong.

Jurassic Park novel: Dinosaurs that are genetically modified Frankenstein science experiment freaks of nature that cannot and shouldn't exist. Things go really, REALLY wrong.

And the old dude that runs that park would gladly feed his own grandchildren to the dinosaurs if there was money to be made in it.

[megustacat]

Here’s the link to the Spotify playlist ~ There are additional songs in the original list, but those are the “core” songs. Yaaas another playlist graphic done!! Following Ais, Leander and Vere I officially finished Mhin’s as well.  I kinda have to hurry up with my graphics if I want to finish everything I have planned on time. My dad needs his tablet back next Wednesday so I kind of have to speedrun learning to draw or at least do my absolutely best learning as much as I can until the tablet will not be available for a long time anymore :( I hope I can finish everythig and treat you guys to something cooler than just a playlist graphic :D  As always, I hope you like it!!! Feel free to suggest new additions for the playlist as well!! 

[confused-alpaca]

i feel like i have part time adhd. i dont think thats how its supposed to work

[ljf613]

Alright, Chanukah starts tonight, which means it's time for me to finally make a post about different kinds of menorahs.

This right here? This is the Temple Menorah:

There's some debate over whether the branches were straight or curved, but here's a few things we do know:

It had seven branches of equal length.

It was made of one solid piece of gold

It was at least five feet tall.

It used pure olive oil.

The Temple Menorah is what people mean when they talk about The Menorah. It's what you'll see on historical or commemorative artifacts such as the Arch of Titus in Rome or Israeli currency:

During the time when the Temple stood in Jerusalem, the High Priest lit all seven flames on this Menorah every day (using the aforementioned pure olive oil):

No one lights this on Chanukah.

This is a Chanukah menorah:

There are countless variations, but here are the important things:

It has eight branches of equal length, plus a ninth "helper" branch, known as the shamash, which is set apart from the rest of the branches and used to light the others.

It can be made of any material.

It is usually used with wax candles or oil, but, if necessary, one can use anything that burns.

In Hebrew, this kind of menorah is called a chanukiah.

Some Chanukah menorahs, like the one shown above, have the shamash in the middle. Others have it on the side:

Regardless, this kind of menorah is the one that has been lit by Jews on Chanukah for thousands of years. It's the menorah you'll seen in photographs of Jewish households, including this famous picture taken in Germany in 1931:

(The message written on the back of the photo reads: "Death to Judah"/ So the flag says/ "Judah will live forever"/ So the light answers)

On Chanukah, whoever is lighting the menorah will first light the shamash, then the number of candles corresponding to whichever night of Chanukah it is. The first night, only the rightmost candle is lit, the second night the two rightmost, etc. (The newest candle is always lit first):

Again, a valid Chanukah menorah has eight branches of equal length, along with a shamash. There is no such thing as a Chanukah menorah with six branches of equal length and a longer seventh branch, and no valid Chanukah menorah has eight branches of completely different lengths.

If you see either of the above designs (or anything similar) on Chanukah-themed decor, it tells you the creator has absolutely no idea what they're doing and couldn't be bothered to do more than two seconds of research to make sure their product was accurate. Anyone who knows anything about the holiday will laugh at these. (They may buy them anyway, especially if that's all that's available-- my new Chanukah sweater has an invalid menorah pattern, but it's adorable, so I'm still going to wear it. But I am also laughing about it and invite you all to do the same.)

Anyway, have a happy Chanukah, everyone!

[orionremastered]

I really love the 911 texting post with the batboys! Quite accurate imo, lol.

If it's possible, may I request how the batboys react to their gf being pouty and touchy with them cuz they've been away for a long time for a big mission?

Thank you! Tho tbh damian would get more than ten assassins. like twenty minimum

Masterlist

Batboys Returning from a Long Mission

Dick Grayson

"You're back!"

Dick's tired eyes take in the apartment. It's clean— cleaner than it's ever been— and there's practically a feast on the kitchen counter.

You fling your arms around him, smiling into his chest. Slowly, he wraps his arms around you, breathing in the familiar scent of your shampoo. "Missed you," he murmurs.

You squeeze him tighter and he winces in pain, letting out a hiss. Your head immediately snaps up and your boyfriend sighs. "I got stabbed— but it's not that bad, I promise— and had to get it stitched some. Relax."

Still, you frown and lift up his shirt, inspecting the stitches on his side.

"See? Fine."

"It doesn't look fine."

"Right... anyway, did you cook something? I'm starving."

You look back into his eyes and nod repeatedly, your own eyes sparkling.

Jason Todd

A soft thud sounds from behind you before arms wrap around your waist. "Hey," he whispers into your ear before kissing you on the cheek. "What're you doing?"

He's climbed through the window. Again.

"I'm about to go to work," you reply, twisting in his hold to return the embrace. "But I'll call in sick and spend today with you."

Jason pulls back and frowns. "No, you should go to work."

"But you just got back!"

"I can wait." Something in his eyes told you he really couldn't, but he wasn't going to say that.

You huff and begin dragging him to the couch. He complies with a sigh, lying down on the cushions and wrapping his arms around you when you lay on top of him.

"I missed you," you tell him.

"I missed you too."

Tim Drake

You wake up to Tim having draped himself on top of you during the night, his hand resting on your cheek. You pull him impossibly closer and he stirs, eyes opening to watch you with a questioning look.

"When did you get back?"

The sunlight streams through the curtains, bathing his face in a golden glow. A smile cracks onto his face before he buries it into your neck with a groan. "Late," is all he says, a chuckle in his tone.

"You should get some more sleep," you chide, running a hand through his dark hair.

"But—"

"I can make you breakfast or lunch for when you wake up again but you need rest," your tone leaves no room for argument, yet he scowls before putting his face back in the crook of your neck.

"Stay?"

"...okay, I'll stay."

Damian Wayne

There's nothing that made you smile more than seeing him again. And directly after you made him breakfast and let him rest, you dragged him out to a restaurant for lunch.

"I would've been happy with just eating at home," he tells you, holding your hand as you walk back to your apartment.

"But I wanted to do something nice for you," you pout. "And then you had to pay."

"I would've never let you pay in a million years," Damian says, face scrunching in disgust and the thought. "So it was me saying sorry for being gone so long."

You smile and lean into his side. "I'm just glad you're back."

He lets go of your hand and wraps it around your shoulders. "I'm glad to be back."

[togeblurbs]

Do You Miss Us?

Five Hargreeves x F!Reader - angst with a happy ending (yeah… happy ish ending)

synopsis: when you find out Five and Lila kissed, you don’t know what to feel. All you know is that you need to get away. Because it was one thing for them to kiss, and another to realize that in the time spent apart, Five Hargreeves may not love you anymore.

content/warnings: hints of anxiety, curse words, cheating, s4 spoilers, mentions of disassociation, morally grey characters, not lore accurate, not really canon, doesn’t focus on the plot moreso reader & fives relationship, lmk if i forgot anything

“Y/n, please,”

you continue walking, wiping away the incessant tears that stream down your face. you feel nauseas, and your chest hurts in a way that it pains you to breathe.

he catches your wrist in his hand, and you turn around, angered. “What? What could you possibly say that would make this better, Five?”

he looks distraught, if not more than you and the thought has your hands shaking in fury. for what reason did he have to be so upset? you weren’t the one who disappeared for a few hours - which ended up being seven years - and then kissed another person.

“I fucked up, I didn’t… You don’t understand, I was losing my mind.” he slips his hand from your wrist to intertwine your fingers, but you shake his grip off in disgust. he looks at you so brokenly at the action, you almost feel bad.

but then you remember her, and you feel the bile rise to your throat once more. “I don’t understand?” you say slowly, taking a step forward.

you point at him, “I think you’re the one who doesn’t understand. I knew some shit was going on between you two, with your secrets and odd glances. But I trusted you, Five. You know why?”

he looks at you with wide eyes, seeming almost unsettled by your outburst. “Because I loved you.” you whisper.

you huff out a laugh, shaking your head as you wipe the remnants of your tears. “But that didn’t matter in the end. You were alone with her for seven years, so it makes sense. I wish you nothing but happiness, Five. Even if it’s away from me.”

you turn, moving to walk again, but he crashes into you from behind and wraps his arms around you. “Please,” his hands are trembling where they rest on your stomach, and although you want to soothe him, you don’t think you are in the place to at the moment.

you take a shaky deep breath, before carefully untangling his hands from your torso. he whimpers pitifully at the action, and you have to stop yourself from giving in and drawing him closer.

you used to bring him comfort, give him love and make him feel safe; but it seemed it was not enough; because in the end he chose someone else.

you turn back around, “I need some time alone right now, Five.” you tug at your bottom lip with your teeth, ripping the skin. you don’t want to look at his face, so you choose to stare at the chipped paint on the wall.

Five lifts his hand for a moment, before dropping it. “Will you come back?” his voice has never sounded so childlike; as though he can’t bear the thought of you leaving and never coming back.

you swallow harshly, “I’ll come back.”

he nods, his own arms wrapping around himself.

“I just don’t know if it will be for you.”

you take a chance and glance at his face, hating the way your heart hurts when his expression crumples.

back in the room, you were so sure he was in love with Lila, but now you’re starting to doubt yourself. because if he truly felt something for her, would he really be crying in front of you right now?

you don’t know. you also don’t feel like you have it in you to make any assumptions.

you turn around, your back facing Five. “I’ll see you later. Don’t follow me.”

and with that, you walk out of Five’s life, unknowingly carrying his heart with you.

-

Five lays in a bed - not his, for years it’s never been his - and recounts the last seven years.

he remembers missing you immensely in the beginning. for the first three years, you were all he could think about.

and then his friendship with Lila began to grow. the time he wished to spend with you, he was now spending with her. it was odd at first, because the two were not close friends of any sort. but when you’re trapped in a different time-line, or different universe, you become allies with those you normally wouldn’t.

somewhere along the way, they had provided one another with the comfort they lacked from their significant others.

it wasn’t supposed to end up that way. it wasn’t.

but now Five can’t get the way you looked at him out of his head; it was like he physically shot you in the chest, or told you he didn’t love you. like he betrayed you.

he grasps at his own chest, curling up into a ball beneath the covers. he feels like he’s going to die.

and maybe that would be for the best. he’s lived a long, torturous life. with a nut-job for a father, siblings that were always thinking about themselves and a lover who he’d ruined everything with, what was the point of life anymore?

its been a month since Five had seen you, and the ache in his chest has yet to go away. he couldn’t find it in himself to eat, often laying in bed as Luther force-fed food down his throat in fear that he would truly pass away.

it’s just another late night, and Five takes the time to stare at the broken glass window as the sun begins to set. the only sound in the room comes from the clock, the constant ticks helping him disassociate and think about you.

he distantly hears the door creak open, but is too exhausted to look at who it is. he doesn’t really care anyway, because he knows it’s not going to be you.

“Five?”

he blinks slowly. it almost sounded like you, but he figured he was hearing things at this point.

“Five,” he feels a hand smooth over his shoulder. gentle in a way he’d only ever experienced with you. his head turns, if only slightly, and he catches sight of your concerned face.

his eyes widen, he forces himself to sit up even if his arms have little to no strength left. “What are you… what are you doing here?” he croaks.

you sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed. it’s far too away from Five, he wants to pull you in the bed and bring you into his arms.

“Should I leave?” you glance at the door for a second, but Five immediately grabs onto your hands and shouts, “No! No, please. Please stay.”

you look shocked at his outburst, nodding softly.

the silence in the room is deafening, but Five is merely happy you’re there. Seven years and then some apart from you was not easy, and after his last conversation with you, he knows he’ll feel unsettled until he makes it right. if he can make it right.

“I did some thinking.” you start, cautious.

Five watches you with fear, scared to hear your next words.

“I’m not angry anymore. I understand you went through a lot being trapped again, and I can’t blame you for falling in love with Lila since she was there for you. I do wish you broke it off with me before kissing her, but what’s done is done.”

your voice comes out stable, like you’ve thought it all through and are content to leave things as they are. but Five is shaking his head the moment you say the word love and Lila in the same sentence, because that could not be more far from the truth.

“Wait, please stop it,” he begs, seeming desperate.

“I understand why you might think that way, but I do not love Lila.” he feels lighter with the words being spoken. he’s been aching to clarify this the moment you found out they kissed, but hasn’t had the chance.

your brows furrow, and you pick at the cotton sleeve of your hoodie. “Um, I see.” you look so confused, he can’t help but move closer to you.

you look at him, body rigid. you don’t seem comfortable around him anymore, and the thought has him clutching his chest in pain.

“Y/n, I love you.”

you recoil immediately, and it prompts Five to reach out instinctively.

the words tumble out of his mouth, like he’s scared you’re going to run before he can finish getting everything out. “I haven’t stopped loving you, Lila and I.. when we, you know, it was a moment of weakness after losing you and being trapped again. I wished every day that I could see you, but I was stuck.”

you move to stand, and a part of Five’s heart breaks for what he thinks will be the last time ever. because if you walk out of this room, he knows he won’t be able to love again. you are it for him, and if he doesn’t have you, then he’d rather stay alone for the rest of his life.

“I’m sorry, I truly am. I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore, but I need you to know that I love you.”

at the end of his little speech he breathes out, listening to his heart thump loudly in his ears.

it’s odd, he thinks. love has always been so painful, so destructive. but with you it was simple. it was calm, steady and soft. he wonders; he hopes, that he’ll be able to experience it again. after all, a healthy type of love was rare for his kind.

he watches you walk closer, reaching a hand out and placing it on his cheek. he leans into it, closing his eyes as he missed your touch immensely. you use the other hand to push his hair back, planting a kiss on his forehead.

his eyes shoot open at the feeling, and he stares at you in wonder. he begins to feel hope bubble in his chest.

“You love me?” you ask quietly.

he nods, “Only you. Only ever you.”

you exhale, shoulders drooping as you move to sit beside him. you wrap an arm around his waist and one on his neck, pulling him down as you lay on the small bed. his head falls to your neck, and he sneaks a small kiss in, hoping you won’t push him away.

“I can’t promise that i’ll forgive you completely. At least not right now. And I’ll probably hate Lila forever, but I don’t think I can walk away from you knowing you love me.”

you run a hand through his hair, feeling him nod into the space between your head and your shoulder. “I know, I completely understand.”

you pat his head gently, staring up at the ceiling.

“I love you too, Five. I don’t think I ever won’t.”

he rubs his face into your neck, and you feel something wet touch it. you card your fingers through his hair once more, cooing.

“Thank you,” his voice comes out shaky, but he hopes you hear the sincerity.

you shift the two of you until you’re underneath the covers, cradling him in your arms with his head on your chest. “Don’t thank me yet. I will be making out with Diego as revenge.”

Five lifts his head, “What?!”

sorry if this is ooc:>

[kuroshitsuji-wiki]

It's Yana Toboso's birthday! (January 24, 1984)

Yana forgot her birthday this year...

... so there's even more reason to congratulate her and celebrate!

Some trivia:

She chose her penname "Yana Toboso" to indicate what kind of manga she wanted to create: Because there are so many mangas whose central themes are dreams, hope, friendship, and love, she wanted to make a manga whose focus is the opposite. "Yana" derives from "iya" (unpleasant, detestable, disagreeable; here: unpleasant/nasty child), and "toboso" is meant to signify importance: a "toboso" is a cavity in the frame of a door used as part of a pivot hinge; as doors wouldn't work without hinges, hinges are important objects. "Yana Toboso," therefore, is meant to mean "the hated/bad child is in the middle" (憎まれっ子がど真ん中にく る). (Character Guide, page 146)

Yana once stated that Ciel resembles her the most out of her characters. (Character Guide, page 147)

*cough* Obviously.

Exhibit A:

(Downstairs with Kuroshitsuji VII, from Volume 17)

(Chapter 76)

Exhibit B: The iconic Pancake Saga from 2018!

Yana's grandmother encouraged her to become a mangaka, and her mother pushed her to submit her work to a publisher when she was 20. Both have since passed away. (sources: akumadeenglish, The Japan Times)

She is a fan of the band L'Arc-en-Ciel (source). HYDE, the vocalist of that band, wrote the opening for Season 5. Yana was obviously very happy about that!

Yana contemplated making "fluffy spin-offs" to Kuroshitsuji, e.g., "a gourmet manga featuring the canteen of the Shinigami dispatch association HQ, or a manga where the Indian butler cooks curry or the black butler makes sweets, or where the servants make small discoveries." However, she dropped those ideas because her "fluffy concepts" kept becoming ominous after a few chapters. (source)

Kuroshitsuji was not meant to be set in 19th-century England from the beginning. Mr. K and the chief editor eventually suggested England as the setting. Yana, who did not know much about England (and could not find many materials early on; source: Downstairs with Kuroshitsuji II in Volume 2), especially not about 19th-century England, and did not believe the manga would be a hit anyway, then cooked up the wonderfully anachronistic Volume 1. Since then, Yana has become more knowledgeable about Victorian England, got a historical advisor (Rico Murakami) who also, sometimes, translates sources for her (source: Downstairs with Kuroshitsuji Special in Volume 15), has been (re-)learning English, and visited England twice. The manga has, thus, become significantly more historically accurate over the years. Still, as it's a fantasy manga, Yana likes to incorporate anachronistic elements for story purposes (e.g. Grim Reaper tech and possessions, Wolfsschlucht) anyway (or simply because she wants to; e.g. the idol groups, I suppose). Anachronisms have, thus, shifted from accidental to deliberate.

Sebastian's mobile phone will be forever iconic, but it has been retconned for over a decade now.

And The Wild Earl lost more than his head was cancelled when all TVs were thrown out of the continuity with the end of the Indian Butler Arc (TVs are last mentioned in Chapter 23).

May we learn many Victorian things alongside Yana in the next years too!

(Downstairs with Kuroshitsuji II, Volume 2)

And may she have a happy, restful birthday so that she doesn't forget it again^^' (And the best of health^^)

[lowkeyerror]

Summer Secrets

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 13.2k

Notes: minor homophobia, some angst, cursing, fluff, soft Regina (only for reader), cheating (technicality), takes a lot from the movie but timeline may be different.

Summary: When tasked with showing Cady Heron around school, you two quickly become friends. When Cady comes in contact with Regina George you feel obligated to help her out. Things get complicated from there because you have a soft spot for the mean girl.

An: Full disclosure have never written this much for a single post, but I'm excited to share it with you guys. I hope you like it likes, replies, and reblogs are always appreciated 💜

Masterlist

For some people high school felt like the end-all-be-all of life. It made sense to some extent. Spending your formative years locked in a building with other hormonal youths forced to participate in some social hierarchical bullshit that only benefited the one percent, sounds like a nightmare. If you were lucky enough to do well, you’d get to spend some time as one of the top one percent. However, any wrong turn and you’d be remembered for whatever mistake you made for the rest of your school career.

It sounds over dramatic (cause it is), but it’s true. It’s your junior year in high school and people are still calling Janis Ian a pyro lez. On the other side of things, Regina George still enamored people. Many people fade in and out of popularity but not Regina. She held her crown in an iron clad grasp and would die before she let it slip.

You didn't really understand how Regina became popular. As far as you were concerned popular meant well-liked, but it didn't seem like anyone genuinely liked Regina other than Gretchen and Karen. Regina was cruel, but she was pretty and had money which in some convoluted way made her the queen bee.

You didn't play into the social dynamics of North Shore. You weren't some outcast or loner who was proud of being different, you weren't a nerd who got bullied by jocks, and you were not some popularity-obsessed junkie. You were just a person.

Someone who went to classes, ate lunch, then went to more classes, and subsequently left the school premises. So, while the school might have been a magnet for chaos, you felt like your experience was pretty normal.

Unfortunately, the normal way you went through school was about to drastically change.

For some unknown reason you had been selected to give a new student a tour of the school.

“Alright Katy this is Y/n, she’s going to be showing you around today. You got the same classes and lockers close enough together so, be friends or something and have a nice day,” principal Duvall was quick to usher you two out of his office.

“My name’s Cady by the way not Katy,” she broke the silence as she followed you down the hallway.

You stopped in front of her locker, “Welcome to North Shore Cady, try not to get sucked in to all the chaos.”

The girl gulps as she places her belonging in the locker, “Chaos?”

You take in her appearance, and she shifts under your gaze, “North Shore is kind of like that scene from High School Musical where they’re dancing in the cafeteria singing about the status quo. You seem like a sweet girl Cady, and the last thing you need to do is find yourself with a label on your forehead.”

Cady hears what you say, but she’s stuck on the fact that you called her a sweet girl, “I’ve been home schooled my entire life and now I feel like I’m being tossed to the wolves.”

You laugh, “I’d say that’s a pretty accurate analogy. As your guide, I can try to keep you out of the drama, but you are a new student, so you’ll get some kind of attention.”

You take Cady to homeroom and have her sit by you before class starts. You make a little small talk with her, until you’re interrupted.

“Y/n, who’s the new girl?” Janis plops directly behind you.

“Cady, this is Janis.”

Before Cady could speak to the goth girl, Damian interjects, “Is that your natural hair color? It’s gorgeous.”

Again, before the girl can speak for herself, the boy takes some of her hair in his hand, “See, this the color I want.”

Janis swats his hand out of Cady’s hair, “Sorry about that, Damian is too gay to function sometimes. He’s not the best with boundaries.”

The conversation doesn’t go any further as Ms. Norbury walks in. Ms. Norbury’s attempt at introducing Cady goes comically bad, but it’s not something that she harps on for long before starting class.

The rest of the classes seem to go by quickly and soon it’s time for lunch. You can see Cady’s head spinning as she looks at all the cliques.

“Who do you usually sit with?”

You shrug, “I usually don’t eat in here, it’s super stuffy. But if I do it’s usually either with the stoners or the art kids.

You stand quietly in line before Cady speaks up again, “What’s your label?”

“I don’t have one. I’m not some outcast or jock or anything like that. I’m an actual human being and labels are overrated.”

She nods slowly smiling, “That’s pretty cool.”

One you both gather lunch you go and sit at the edge of the stoner table. You give some greetings before turning your full attention to Cady.

“Ok, don't freak out but I won't be here tomorrow. So, you’re going to be on your own,” you break the news to the ginger.

She falters a bit, “Oh okay.”

You see her eyes land on Janis and Damian.

“Be careful with those two.”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Why they seem cool?”

You elaborate, “They are cool, but they have labels and roles to fit in to. They’ve got an affinity for ditching class and making up schemes. So don’t get sucked in to that stuff alright?”

Cady nods and then you see her eyes sparkle, “Who is that?”

You follow her line of sight and find yourself in a brief staring contest with the school’s queen bee. Your eyes dance over her features and time seems to slow down for a moment, until she finally looks away from you.

“That’s Regina George.”

“She seems important,” Cady says, noting how everyone around seems preoccupied with her.

You counter, “She carries herself that way, so no one really questions it. Regina is the most popular girl in school. The two with her are Gretchen and Karen. Some people call them The Plastics.”

“Got it, so I should steer clear?”

You shrug, “She’s a massive deal and some people would grovel for even a minute with her. She’s got a lot of influence around here. So, I would just say be careful of interacting with her. She’s as mean as she is pretty.”

“I don’t get it.”

You sigh, “It’s nuanced. You shouldn't be seeking out interactions with her but trust me you don't want to turn her away or brush her off if she approaches you. She can ruin the rest of your time here, so careful of her.”

One last time you look in Regina’s direction to see her laughing at some poor kid.

Cady sees this but decides against questioning it. The rest of the day goes by quickly and by the end of the day, you might just consider Cady your friend. You exchange numbers and tell her to make good choices in your absence.

It was some time the following night that you got a text from Cady.

Cady: I think I messed up today.

Y/n: What happened?

Cady: I got invited to sit with the Plastics.

The text conversation ends there as you can’t help but call the girl. She picks up immediately and starts rambling about her day. You silently listen from the other end of the line, almost in disbelief that all of that could happen in one day.

“So, you got encouraged to sit with Regina and her friends by Janis and Damian, who also made you skip class,” you try to follow.

“Yes.”

You continue, “And you have a crush on Aaron, from Calc?”

Cady blushes on the other line, “I don’t know? I just think he’s cute.”

You run a hand over your face, “Jesus Christ Cady, I’m gone for one day and this is what you get in to, Aaron is Regina’s ex."

She scrambles over the phone, “I don’t know it just happened. What do I do Y/n?”

“Tomorrow’s Wednesday, so the best advice I can give to you is wear something pink,” you joke over the line.

“Damian is letting me borrow his shirt.”

You couldn’t contain your laughter.

“It’s not funny, Y/n,” she whines.

“Tell him to keep the shirt. You can borrow something from me instead.”

Cady is grateful but she has a curious tone as she asks, “You don’t seem like the pink wearing type.”

You speak coyly, “What have I been saying about labels Cady? You can’t put me in a box. Fun fact pink is one of my favorite colors.”

Cady’s next words are hesitant, “Maybe if you wear something pink too, they’ll let you sit too.”

“Cady, I have no desire to sit with Regina and her friends, but I don’t want to throw you to the wolves without at least trying to save you. So, for you, I’ll wear the pink, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll let me sit.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Cady praises you over the phone.

You chuckle, “Anything else?”

“Nothing that I can think of. You’re the best Y/n, I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

You smile, “Goodnight, Cady."

When the conversation ends you get out of your bed and head for your closet. For the most part it was filled with t-shirts, jeans, sweaters, and the occasional formal attire. You have to go deep into the back of it to actually find what you’re looking for.

You’re hesitant to pull it off the hanger. It’s a simple pink bomber jacket. It’s cute and the material is soft. Cady could wear it. The one thing that gives you great pause about letting her borrow it, is that the jacket had been gifted to you by Regina George.

You had grown up in North Shore, so you were always aware of Regina George. You’d gone through school together, even sharing some classes together. All this to say you knew the girl’s character. She had always been mean.

It was 2 years ago when your parents decided that a family vacation during the summer would be good for everyone in the house. You weren't complaining, it was good to get out of the city.

Your parents had gone all out and rented out a beach front property for the 3 months you had away from school. It was a gorgeous property, and you often found yourself enjoying the scenery.

The last thing you expected to see was Regina George. Yet coincidentally the home your folks rented was right next to a property owned by Regina’s family.

You didn’t have any need to acquaint yourself with her. So, for a few weeks into the vacation, you didn’t approach her. That didn’t stop you from looking at her. You always knew she was gorgeous, but it was a shame her personality didn’t match.

Eventually your staring caught her attention.

“Y/n, right?”

You frown as the sun you were using to read is blocked. You look up to see Regina standing in front of you. Her blue eyes pierce yours curiously.

“Yep, how can I help you?”

“Why so formal?”

You finally meet her eyes, “Well you are the most popular girl in our grade.”

Regina’s eyes divert from yours, “We aren’t in school right now.”

You nod, “You’re right. So, I can just tell you to fuck off.”

She sets up her things next to yours, “You could, but who says I will listen.”

You laugh a bit, “What do you want, Regina?”

She sighs, “Is it a crime to want some company?”

“It’s not,” you answer, before returning to your book.

“I haven’t seen you here before. I come every summer,” Regina tries for small talk.

You sit the book down and give the girl your full attention.

“My parents saved up to rent out a beach front property this summer. They said it’s good for family bonding,” you say.

“I’ve only really seen you,” Regina comments.

You shrug, “My parents are enthralled with each other. They’re rediscovering how much they love each other. Where are your parents?”

You see her shift under your gaze, “My dad is on some business trip or something and my mom is out somewhere with my little sister.”

That first interaction spurred on by Regina started something of a summer friendship. You had no expectations of keeping it when the summer ended. So, when she came to you nervous one of those summer nights saying that it was better not to interact at school, you weren’t surprised.

You told her you expected this from her and that it was fine, but that maybe you could continue this friendship next summer. That night she hugged you for what seemed like forever as an apology.

When school started back it was like you were strangers. You were surprised to receive some texts from her here and there. You’d always answer, and you’d be lying if you weren’t looking forward to summer.

When the next summer rolled around, as soon as your feet hit the sand you were nearly knocked to the ground. The queen bee locked her hands behind your neck and her legs wrapped around your waist.

“You miss me or something, Gina?”

“You have no idea, how much I’ve been looking forward to it.”

She pulls away to look at you but doesn’t unhook her legs from your face. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before you clear your throat. She drops down smiling innocently as a blush spread across your face.

“You look good,” Regina comments.

Your hand scratches the back of your neck, “Puberty or whatever, I guess.”

Her hand finds yours, “So what’re we doing first?”

Last summer was different than the first. It didn’t feel like you were further expanding the friendship, it felt like you were building something different with Regina.

Those suspicions were confirmed when her lips met yours one night when you both were watching the waves.

“You aren’t supposed to kiss me, Gina,” you whisper against her lips.

“Why not?”

You open your eyes to look into hers, “Because when we go back to North Shore, I’m going to miss this.”

She pulls away, “I’m sorry, I just-”

You chase her until her back is flat on the sand. You hover over her lips, before pecking them, “Be mine for this summer Gina.”

You can see the sadness in her eyes as she speaks, “I’m going to break your heart, Y/n.”

Your hand cups her face, “I know, but that’s not your problem.”

Regina shakes her head, “I care about you, Y/n. I don’t want-"

“Just let me down gently baby,” you plead with her.

She sees the desperation in your eyes as they search hers. Regina didn’t want to hurt you, she needed you to stay away from her. For once in her life, she was thinking about the consequences of her actions. However, pushing you away was not an option.

She captured your lips again. You deserved more, but you were begging for her. All she could do was keep her promise and let you down gently.

You thought you had prepared yourself for the summer to end. That was far from the truth because when you woke up the day before you left, Regina was already gone.

You thought she left without saying goodbye. You were wrong. When you went to the patio of your summer home, you found her goodbye. She left you her jacket, a letter, and a seashell necklace.

The letter itself had a few tear stains on it that made it hard to read. You didn’t think Regina was the type to put pen to paper, but you were used to being surprised by her.

I’ve tried writing this a bunch, but I keep fucking it up. I should’ve started with Dear Y/n or something, but that just didn’t sound right. I’m sorry for so many things, Y/n. You told me to let you down gently and here I am leaving without saying goodbye because I'm selfish. I’m mean, I’m selfish and I’m not good for you. When school starts, I have to uphold this image and as much as I want to say that it’s not me. It’s not true. I’m that girl that you know back home, but here with you… I feel this responsibility to be better. This summer meant everything to me. Every moment with you meant everything to me. I wish we could stay here because I’ve never been happier. I will never be happier then I was here with you. I don’t deserve to be. I hope this was gentle enough, baby.

Love,

Your Gina

Reading the letter stirs a plethora of emotions through your system. You let Regina break your heart and you hadn’t faced her since. The thought of getting close to her at school scared you. You knew the girl you had feelings for didn't exist during this time of year and if you got in her way, she’d surely take you down.

The next day you find yourself wearing a pink tank top mostly covered by your black zip-up hoodie. You send Cady a picture of the jacket advising her to find something that matched.

You arrive on campus and patiently wait for Cady to show up.

“Pink might be your color Y/n.”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up Janis and what are you planning with Cady and Regina?”

“I can't shut up and explain at the same time so…”

“I’m serious Janis. Cady is fresh meat for someone like Regina.”

Janis claps her hands together gleefully, “Fresh meat or a blank canvas. Regina stood up for Cady yesterday, which means she's taken an interest in her. Queen bee sees potential, which means Cady is either a successor or a threat.”

“Ok, what does any of that have to do with you?”

Damian enters the conversation at that point, “Oh it’s a part of her plan for revenge on Regina.”

Janis smacks the boy a few times. The end up play-fighting before you get between them.

“Enough! Revenge for what exactly?”

Janis’s eyes darken, “That information is classified I'm afraid.”

You glare back at her, “You shouldn’t drag Cady into this.”

Now it’s Janis who rolls her eyes, “If she wants to help out a friend who am I to stop her.”

You get up as soon as you spot Cady. With one final look back to Janis you say, “Friends don’t use each other in revenge plots.”

Cady’s outfit was simple, but cute and the jacket would go perfect with it. You greet her with a smile.

“Nervous?”

“More than I was on the first day,” she frowns.

You grab her by the shoulders and shake her a bit, “You got this and even if it flops, you have me ok. The biggest thing to remember is you have to be yourself alright?”

“Janis and Damian said I shouldn’t be myself around The Plastics,” Cady put her head down.

“Hey, look at me. You don’t need to try to fit in with them. Regina invited you to sit, which means she wants you there. Think about it like that,” you try to ease her nerves.

She nods, giving you a small smile in return, “That makes sense. Oh shit, they’re looking at me. Do you have the jacket?”

You turn to find Regina and her clique looking curiously in Cady’s direction. Quickly you pull the jacket out of your bag. Cady reaches for it, and you pull it back slightly.

“This jacket is important to me, ok? I need it back at the end of the day,” you warn her.

Cady’s attention stays on the popular girls until she sees Regina’s gaze shift towards you. Again, the two of you are in an intense staring contest.

“I’ll give it back to you at the end of the day,” Cady repeats.

You hand her the jacket and go to walk off. Her arm catches your wrist, and you turn around. It’s a bit too fast and the girl almost falls, so you steady her.

“Careful,” you scold her lightly.

Her voice is light as she questions you, “Where’re you going?”

“To my locker?” You say curiously.

“Well, mine is close to yours so I didn’t really expect you to- sorry it’s silly. You go, I’ll see you-”

This time it’s her that goes to pull away. You drop your hand into her’s leading her towards the lockers.

“No, you’re right. Sorry, I’m just kind of used to doing my own thing. It makes complete sense for us to go together.”

“I didn’t mean to make a big deal out of it,” she apologizes.

Your hand lets go of hers as you get in front of your locker, “No big deal, let’s just get through today.”

Lunch comes sooner than you want it to. You try to hide your nerves for Cady’s sake. She approaches Regina’s table with you not too far behind her.

Before she sits down, she clears her throat and looks at Regina, “H-hey it’s cool if not, but I was wondering if my friend Y/n could sit here maybe?”

Gretchen goes on some tangent about it being disrespectful to ask and says that Cady should be disinvited just for even bringing it up, “I mean who do you even think you are?”

“Are you done Gretchen?” Regina replies not even looking at the girl.

“I- I,” she stutters and sits silently in defeat.

Regina eyes look at Cady as if she’s bored, “Is she at least wearing pink?”

You unzip your jacket revealing the pink tank top underneath. Regina looks briefly at shirt before letting out an exasperated sigh, “Only today.”

The answer shocks Gretchen and Karen, but they don’t say it. Cady sits at the edge of the table while you decide to sit next to Karen, in a way that separates you from the main group.

“Cute jacket. Where’d you get it?” Regina says to Cady.

The question alone makes the food on the lunch tray unappealing to you.

Cady answers seamlessly, “It was a gift.”

It’s a good save. If it hadn’t been Regina’s jacket it would have been the perfect lie. The blonde lets it go with a hum before she starts diving into the stereotypical gossip of the school.

It’s hard being this close to her. You had done what you could to stay away from her at school, but here you were sitting across from her trying your best not to stare.

Gretchen goes on explaining the rules of The Plastics to Cady for what felt like forever. You mindlessly scroll through your phone wishing the lunch period would end.

Cady definitely didn’t need you here. You had decided that you were going to leave the table, but before you did, you felt her eyes on you. It was like you were glued to the seat.

“So, we’re going to my house after school to study. Cady are you in or out?” Regina asks, but it’s really a demand.

“Yeah, for sure I’m totally in,” she says excitedly.

“One day offer loser, are you in?” Regina looks at her nails, but it’s clear she’s talking to you.

Gretchen speaks up again, “Regina you can’t be serious? Sitting with us was one thing, but-”

“I’m sorry, was I talking to you Gretchen?” Her voice was ice cold.

Cady looks at you with eyes that were basically saying ‘pretty please’.

“I’m in,” you say against your gut feeling.

Once lunch is over you all disperse. Cady corners you before you go to your next class, “Oh my god that went so well. Regina even asked us to come over.”

You bury your head in your hands, “What have I just agreed to?”

“Hey, this is a good thing, right? If it's not its only one hangout,” Cady’s hand finds your shoulder giving you comfort.

“You’re right, it’s just- Regina’s kind of intimidating up close,” You mumble.

Cady nods, “Very intimidating. Did something happen between the two of you?”

You make a face that creases your eyebrows, “Who? Me and Regina.”

“Yeah, I've seen you staring at each other, and it just feels like tension,” Cady says.

You avoid the truth skillfully, “Well, I've known Regina a long time. I’ve seen what she's capable of. It’s pretty scary. It’s not really staring on my part more like freezing in fear.”

“She can’t be that bad. I think she’s kind of sweet,” Cady admits.

You shake your head, “What did I tell you before Cady? Regina George is mean.”

Cady scoffs, “Everybody keeps saying that, but no one is giving me any examples.”

“Watch her the rest of the day, you'll get it then,” you say knowing that Regina couldn't go too long without letting her mean streak show.

It didn’t take long for Cady to see what you were talking about. Regina treated their peers like they were beneath her at every chance she got.

When your last class was over, you both made your way to Regina’s jeep. Cady is stopped on the way by Janis and Damian. You decide against staying for that conversation. You expect the ginger will catch up to you.

When you get to the car Regina is already there waiting. It is slightly strange seeing her without a boy or her friends. Cautiously you approach her, but not to close. You keep your head down as you stand what you deem as near enough to her car.

“Get in,” she says after an awkward silence.

Your hand barely touches the door to the back before she speaks up again, “The front seat.”

This causes you to look up at her, but she’s already making her way around to the driver’s side. You follow her orders and get in the passenger seat next to her.

You can’t remember the last time you felt this fidgety. Your hand finds a spot firmly on your knee to keep it from bouncing out of control.

“You gave her the jacket,” It’s small when she says it.

It’s a challenge for you, but you make eye contact with her, “She’s just borrowing it. I would never give it away. “

The conversation dies there as Karen, Gretchen, and Cady arrive at the jeep.

“Regina, why is she in my spot?” Gretchen complains about your presence once again.

You start to remove the seatbelt to get in the back, but Regina’s hand grabs your wrist.

“Gretchen, when did you start asking more than 2 stupid questions a day? Nothing in my car belongs to you. If she were in the driver's seat, I would expect you to get in and shut the fuck up. So, get in the back and stop being so annoying.”

You could see Gretchen shrink under Regina’s words. Part of you feels bad for her, she was just acting in the way Regina usually would approve of. You were already making things complicated when they didn’t have to be.

The rest of the girls pile into the back of the jeep and it’s awkward for a moment, but eventually the chatter starts naturally. Once again you feel out of place.

You can’t stop thinking of the feeling of Regina’s hand on your wrist. Her skin on yours provides you with a sense of comfort. It’s almost like you were remembering that you knew what she felt like. You’re craving her touch; the thought alone makes your face burn with embarrassment.

Pulling up to Regina’s house feels surreal. It’s bigger than you thought. It almost felt wrong to go inside. Regina ushers everyone upstairs quickly trying to avoid her mother. You move the quickest, slightly afraid that Mrs. George might recognize you from the summer. Cady takes time to properly greet the woman.

If being in her house felt wrong being in her room felt even more invasive. It’s as pink as you imagined it be, but not in a childish way.

This is when Cady tries to fold you into the conversation, “Y/n, actually really likes pink.”

It’s so sudden having all the girls look to you for conformation. You try to regain your usual attitude, rather than the bundle of nerves you've become today.

“I think it's pretty cool,” You shrug.

Karen’s eyes widen, “You talk?”

You laugh as the other girls roll their eyes, “Yes, Karen I talk.”

“Well, you haven't said anything this whole time so how was I dose to know,” she tilts her head to the side.

She has a good point. From that point you try to engage me with the girls. It isn't so bad. The more you talk with the others the more you begin to relax.

That was until Mrs. George came upstairs with snacks. You excuse yourself to the restroom. It isn't until you’re out of the room that you realize you have no idea where it is.

“Follow me,” Regina appears from seemingly thin air.

You follow her and the two of you end up in front of the bathroom door. You stand there not saying anything to each other.

“Well, are you going to go?”

“I don’t actually have to go, I was just saying that to leave the room in case your mom recognized me,” you explain.

Regina nods, “Right makes sense."

Another long pause.

“I’m sorry, for coming here Gi- Regina. I was just trying to be there for Cady,” you don't look at her as you speak.

“Looking out for your new girlfriend, I get it,” there’s some venom in her tone.

“She’s not- I’m not into Cady.”

Regina falters, “It’s not my business, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

That was her way of apologizing. You don’t know what else to say. Your eyes linger on her, taking in her appearance this close.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she says before heading back in the direction of her room.

You sigh, “You look good, Regina.”

That seems to stop her in her tracks. She turns to face you again, “You can't say stuff like that.”

You take the opportunity to joke, “Do I need to say you look so totally fetch instead or…?”

She rolls her eyes playfully, “You’re annoying you know that.”

It’s completely different than how she said it to Gretchen. For this small instance in the hallway, she sounds like your Gina. It makes your heart flutter but sickens you all at the same time.

Re-entering Regina’s room you see the girls looking at a weird book. You see the shift in Regina’s features instantly, “Why is that out here? “

“Your mom thought it would be funny,” Karen answers, flipping through the pages.

You can't help but read one of the pages aloud, “Ms. Norbury is a PUSHER, a SAD OLD DRUG PUSHER.”

The book is filled with girls from school, it’s surprising you had escaped the pages. It’s then you’re reminded just how effortlessly cruel Regina could be.

Janis's revenge plot was starting to make more sense. You hated to agree, but maybe she needed a fall from grace.

“I have to go,” you say gathering you're things.

Regina moves to block your exit. She looks at the rest of girls like they’re idiots, “Why aren't you guys grabbing your shit? She has to go that means you all have to.”

The girls scramble to pick up their stuff. Regina grabs her car keys from the vanity, signaling that she was doing drop offs.

She takes Gretchen home first, then Karen, next is Cady. You notice Cady doesn't have on your jacket when you get a glimpse of her. Slight panic bubbles inside of you. If she left it at Regina’s, you'd likely never see it again. You get a text as you come to this realization.

Cady: The jackets in your backpack

Y/n: Cool thanks

When Regina parks in front of Cady’s house you say goodbye and tell her to text you later. When she leaves the car, the energy shifts drastically.

You knew Regina did this intentionally as your house was only a block over from hers. It would've made sense to take you first, but she waited to have you alone in this moment.

“Can we talk?” You see her hands tightly grip the steering wheel.

“Well now is as good as it's going to get, isn’t it?” You say picking at the sleeves of your sweater.

Regina sighs, “You were never this timid on the beach.”

“You and I both know you're a different person there. I never thought I’d be in this situation with you here, forgive me if I’m cautious around the queen bee,” you rebuttal.

Her grip tightens, “You’re scared of me.”

You shake your head, “I’m not scared of you, Gina.”

“Then why?”

You look out of the window, “I’m scared of the way you make me feel. I look at you and all of a sudden, I want to be back on that beach. This is as close as we’ve been during the school year, and I can’t make a habit of this. You let me down gently, but that doesn’t mean my heart isn’t broken.”

“I told you,” it’s a whisper from the blonde.

“I would do it all over again,” you still can’t look at her.

Regina feels herself losing her composure. Before she can drive any further, she pulls over in a random parking lot. She shakes her head as tears build behind her eyes.

“You’re not supposed to say shit like that, Y/n. It’s cheesy and overplayed. It’s something you say to people that you care about, and you shouldn't care about me,” she begins to breathe heavily.

“Gina-"

Her hands find her hair as a groan leaves her, “I hurt you Y/n and you just let me. Why don’t you hate me?”

Your hands reach for hers. She lets you pull them from her scalp.

“Regina, I’m not some stranger you met on vacation 2 years ago. I grew up here, with you. I knew what I was getting into. I did it anyway,” your thumb runs over her knuckles.

“You didn't want more?”

Your eyes soften, “I wanted you in every way you’d allow me to have you, Gina. You weren’t just some summer fling to me. It’s just- I knew you'd never go for that. You have this image to uphold, and I fuck it up.”

“You shouldn’t care about my image. You should be calling me a coward and a liar. I don’t get why you haven’t even tried to expose me,” she goes on.

“I don't care about school politics,” you say.

She sounds desperate as she speaks, “But I do, and you could ruin me.”

Against your better judgment your hand caresses her cheek. She looks up at you and you lean forward.

“I gain nothing from hurting you Gina,” your lips graze hers as you speak.

“Fuck it,” Regina closes the gap between the two of you.

Her lips against yours feels better than you remember. Neither of you are eager to pull away. When you do your forehead rests against hers.

“I was so stupid thinking I could stay away from you,” Regina says trying to catch her breath.

“I missed you too,” you tell her.

“We have to figure this out. I’m not ready to… show this side of myself to the school, but I need you,” Regina admits.

You shrug your shoulders, “We could sneak around. No one has to know.”

She searches your face, “Are you sure?”

You nod, “Positive.”

People often make jokes about famous last words, but that honestly felt like yours. Life became a lot more hectic after you suggested that arrangement between you and Regina.

A lot of it was a blur as she began to pull you into the janitors closet whenever she got the chance. Sometimes for talking and sometimes to makeout.

Off campus you would find yourself at the blonde’s house quite often. The two of would hang out in her room for hours. On occasion she would borrow her mom’s car to take your somewhere out of the city.

While things were going great for you with Regina. Cady was slowly but surely making her move on Aaron. You didn't think it was wise, but if it made her happy, then you supported it.

Cady had also kept her seat with Regina and friends. It seemed like she was finally progressing towards actually becoming a member of their clique.

You hadn’t been around much, but you hoped this meant Cady was done with whatever Janis had been planning. Playing both sides wouldn’t be good for her.

“Are you going to Chris Eisel's Halloween party?”  Cady asks as she goes through her locker.

“Probably, everyone is going.”

She nods her head, “I think I'm going to try to get with Aaron at the party.”

Your eyes widen, “I don't know if that's a good idea.”

Cady dismisses your warning, “Regina and I are cool now. I think I'm going to tell her I like him and see if it's ok that I take my chance.”

You look at her as if she was crazy, “Cady getting with the queen bee's ex-boyfriend is not smart.  Telling her about it beforehand only gives her prep time to take you down.”

“It will be fine.”

You knew that it, in fact, would not be fine. Your suspicions were confirmed later in the day when you were in Regina’s room.

The blonde paces back and forth silently. There’s a scowl on her face. You let her try to cool down for nearly 15 minutes, but at this rate there would be a hole in the floor where she walked.

“So, you talked to Cady,” you lightly poke the bear.

“Who does she think she is? I let her into the most influential group at the school and now she wants to fuck my ex. If she gets with Aaron there’s a chance that I look like an idiot,” Regina was furious.

“How would that make you look bad? You dumped him, right?” you try to follow.

“It makes it look like I’d allow anyone to have the things that I have. Dating Aaron would push her up the social ladder. Being one of us and dating him would make her more popular than me,” she says it like it’s obvious.

“Right,” you’re still confused.

Regina groans before finally sitting on her bed next to you, “You wouldn’t get it. You’re not into the school politics or whatever it is you say.”

You wrap your arms around the blonde and she leans back into your touch, “Just try not to destroy her too bad, ok? She’s, my friend.”

“I’m going to put that ginger bitch in her place,” she threatens.

You sigh, but there’s not much else you can do. You warned Cady that this was a bad idea.

“No more talking about Cady. We have episodes of Malcolm in the Middle to watch,” you kiss the top of her head.

“You’re right, I don’t want her cutting into our time together,” she places a kiss to the side of your jaw.

You knew that whatever happened at that party would be bad, but for now you decided to ignore it for now. In hindsight, it was a mistake. It was almost as if all the time you were spending with Regina made you forget that when everything was said and done, she was mean.

The party’s already in full affect when you get there. It’s almost impossible not to spot Cady in her costume.

“I see you went for the scary over sexy look,” you shout so that she can hear you.

“I thought this is what they meant by costume. Not just a pair of mouse ears,” you can barely make out what she’s saying over the giant plastic teeth.

You laugh, “Well I think it’s pretty cool for what it’s worth.”

“Thanks, I hope Aaron thinks so too. Who are supposed to be?”

You pull out your tiny comb and run it through your hair, “Well me sweetheart, I’m grease lightning.”

She giggles at your antics, “I don’t why, but that makes sense for you.”

You chat with Cady enjoying the party atmosphere until you get a glimpse of Regina, “Wow.”

Cady turns her attention to the blonde, “She looks amazing. Is she-”

“An angel,” you finish Cady’s thought.

Cady watches as your eyes rake Regina’s entire form, “I’ve never seen you look like such a fan of hers before.”

It’s a task as you tear your eyes away from Regina, “I’ve said it a million times Cady. She’s mean, but damn she's pretty.”

“I’m going to go say hi, I’ll be right back.”

You don’t stay to watch the interaction between the two girls opting to get a drink from the kitchen instead.

In the kitchen your quest for a drink is postponed as you see Karen standing on the table, looking as if she was going to fall. In typical North Shore fashion, instead of helping her down people are recording her.

You take it upon yourself to walk over and extend your hand to the girl. She takes it gratefully, but still manages to trip on her way down. You’re reflexes work fast to catch her, and steady her on the ground.

“Y/n, you saved me,” she giggles and jumps up and down a few times.

You laugh with your response, “I did, but be careful next time I might not be around.”

“I was trying to find Gretchen,” the girl frowns.

You sigh, trying to figure out if you really want to take on this task. One look at Karen’s wobbly stance, and you take her hand.

“Let’s find her.”

It takes you longer than expected to find Gretchen. When you get a glimpse of her, she’s yelling at Jason over who knows what. You see if you wait it out if it will end, but it doesn’t. So instead, you decide to interrupt anyway.

“Gretchen!” Karen exclaims as you get closer to the girl with the loose curls.

“Karen was looking for you,” you tell her nonchalantly.

Gretchen looks at her clearly drunk friend and then back to the boy she was arguing with. She points her finger at him, “This isn’t over.”

She then takes Karen by the arm and begins to drag her away, “Bye Y/n.”

Gretchen turns back to you for a quick moment mouthing ‘thank you’ before she goes to take care of Karen.

You’re basically back to the middle of the party. You look for Cady and spot her standing still across the room. Her chest heaves up and down rapidly as she clutches her hand over it.

You follow her line of sight and feel your heart break in your chest. Regina and Aaron are locked in an enthusiastic kiss. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but you hold them at bay. You make your way over Cady deciding that the party is over for the both of you.

Your presence takes her out of her trance, “Let’s go.”

She looks over to see Regina looking right at her. Cady doesn’t hesitate to follow your lead out of the party. It’s not until Regina realizes that you’re the one taking Cady, that the blonde regrets her actions.

You don’t know how you end up and Janis’s place, but you do. Janis and Damian are watching some old Halloween movie in her garage. Cady starts telling the art kids what happened at the party. Janis springs up from her seat quickly comforting the girl.

You take this opportunity to sit next to Damian. Its then that you learn that Cady didn’t actually know why Janis wanted revenge. You find out some details you didn’t know either, despite being there for the debacle.

“Now you know that Regina George is not your friend, we’re your friends and we’re going to make her pay,” Janis says with her eye twitching.

“Pause, why are you here Y/n?” Damian acknowledges that you look just as upset as Cady.

You search for an answer, “I brought Cady.”

Janis narrows her eyes at you, “That’s not everything.”

You know you shouldn’t, but as the images of Aaron and Regina cross your mind you can’t hold it in.

Your head falls into your hands, “It’s complicated.”

The moment the two words leave your lips you find yourself telling them everything from the first summer to the recent rendezvous. By the time you're done you’re a mess.

“She told me this would happen, but I didn't listen. I’m so stupid,” you began to get angry at yourself as you harshly wiped your eyes.

“Hey, don't be so hard on yourself,” Janis wraps an arm around.

“And I thought she was cruel before,” Damian looks at you sympathetically.

“She’s not going to get away with this Y/n,” Cady promises.

You shake your head, “Guys, I’m not out for vengeance. I just- it hurts.”

Janis rubs your shoulder a few times, “Don’t worry, we got your back. While Cady focuses on knocking Regina down a peg, Damian and I will make sure she stays away from you.”

Just as the words leave her mouth your phone begins to buzz repeatedly. You peak down at it and can see a bunch of messages from Regina coming through. You reach for it, but Cady takes it and simply flips it over on the table.

“No more, Regina George. “Now, what are we watching,” she says, and you nod gaining back some of your bearings.

So, you spend the rest of your night watching bad horror movies with your friends, trying to keep your mind off of Regina.

The next school day you don’t make it far without feeling a certain pair of eyes on you. Before you can turn to look in her direction Janis and Damian are by your side whisking you into the school building.

“I can’t believe you didn’t like disintegrate under her gaze,” Janis comments.

Damian follows up, “Yeah if looks could kill, you’d probably be dead right now.”

Your gaze stays on the floor, “She can look all she wants as long as she keeps her distance.”

That's basically what transpires your next 6 weeks at school. Janis, Damian, and Cady fail to make any sort of mockery of Regina, the popular girl debuts her rekindled romance, and you fall deeper into your depression.

Regina does try approaching you a few more times, but she consistently gets blocked by Janis, Damian, or Cady, for which you’re grateful. You don’t want to talk to her while she’s busy parading her boy toy around.

Every day is starting to seem longer than the last. You dread stepping on campus, because even if you manage to avoid seeing Regina, she’s all anyone talked about. It was like you were always surrounded by her and it was driving you insane.

It gets to the point where sometimes you periodically skip class, just to walk the empty hallways to get away from her. Skipping class seems to be your downfall as you find yourself being yanked into the janitors closet.

“What the fuck?” Your initial panic only increases when you see Regina blocking the door.

“We need to talk,” Regina says with a sharp tone.

You shake your head, “No we don’t, now let me out of here Regina.”

You try to push past her, but she puts a hand on your chest, “I’ve been trying to talk to you since the Halloween party.”

“For what, Regina? You put Cady in her place just like you said you would. I should've seen it coming,” your words come out harsh.

“I didn’t mean for you to get hurt,” her voice was small when she spoke.

You let out a bitter chuckle, “There was no way I wasn’t going to get hurt. What, you were just going to kiss and date Aaron publicly while keeping me on the side?”

“I don’t care about Aaron, I only care about you,” she shoots back.

“You couldn’t even run it by me. Maybe check to see if I would’ve been ok with it? Regina we were practically dating,” you argue to the girl.

Regina runs a hand through her hair, “I know that. I know I fucked up, I’ve been trying to apologize, to talk to you, but your guard dogs never let me get close.

You scoff, “My friends are protecting me from you.”

Regina sounds incredulous, “So you told them?”

Your hands go up feigning exasperation, “Yes, I told them. I didn’t really have a choice because when I left the party, I was a fucking mess, and they were there for me.”

“It was just a kiss, Jesus Christ you’re acting like I fucked him on the couch,” she complains.

The disbelief in your tone comes out, “You really don’t get it, do you? You want to know why it fucked me up so bad? Despite how mean you are and how vain you can be, I saw something in you. I cut through all the bullshit to find the actual human being with feelings. I got to know you better than anyone else in this hell hole ever will. Underneath all that toxic plastic costume that you wear is the girl that I loved. So, I’m sorry if my hurt feelings are too much for you, but it fucking sucks seeing the person you love kiss someone else.”

You didn't know when you got so close to Regina. The roles had reversed at some point, and you were now the one trapping her against the closet door. Her blue eyes peer into yours looking for any sign of deceit.

“You loved me?”

You close your eyes, “Don’t make me say it again. “

Regina doesn't have the words. She doesn't want to search for them. All she wants to do is kiss you. So, against her better judgment she hurriedly places her lips on yours.

You should push her away, tell her that this isn't an apology. Yet the only thing you can do is wrap your arms around her and pull her into you. The kiss is sloppy, and it sends you both into a frenzy. Neither of you break it even when you both know better.

When the door to the closet is violently yanked open, is when you finally pull away from each other. Aaron stands there looking between yourself and Regina. The blonde yanks the door back shut, and you drop to the floor as embarrassment sets in.

“Fuck, I have to go,” you say trying to pull yourself together.

“You can’t go we haven’t talked,” Regina tries to block you.

This time you’re gentle as you move her aside, “There’s nothing to talk about Gina. You were right, I thought I could handle the heartbreak, but this is too much.”

Leaving the closet your jaw clenches as you see Cady down the hall. Her attention that was on Aaron, shifts to you. Her eyes go wide as she begins to figure out what happened in the closet. You don't give her the chance to comfort you opting to leave the school entirely.

Maybe it was time to embrace the school’s politics. Becoming the outcast, loner, weirdo didn’t sound so bad anymore. Anything to keep you away from The Plastics and The Art Freaks. You didn’t want to deal with either side ever again.

Just like you had done with Regina you ignored all of Cady, Janis, and Damian’s messages. You and the block button had never been any closer. At school you resumed having your lunch outside away from the drama and stuffy cafeteria.

In class you kept your focus on the teacher ignoring any notes or whispers from the trio. It was a challenge, but it was for the best.

You kept your head down when walked the halls and your earbuds in. If you kicked out the outside world then it was like it didn’t exist. You should’ve been paying more attention.

That’s the thought that crosses your mind as you trip right in front of Regina George. You expect to hit the floor dramatically but are surprised when you feel her hands at your waist keeping you upright.

The entire school watches with bated breath waiting for your fate. You too, are curious to see how the queen bee will treat you with the public watching.

“Watch it… loser,” she mumbles, making sure to shove you lightly out of her way.

You can tell her heart isn’t in it, but it looks normal to the public. In some ways it looked like you got a warning, which Regina was kind enough to give to most people.

You didn't dwell on it much. She probably had bigger things to worry about with the talent show happening so soon. The Plastics never missed a year of doing their kind of provocative and surely cringe-inducing dance routine.

Extra credit was being offered in most of your classes for students who went. So, you had decided to go to boost up your grades.

On the night of the talent show, you take a seat in the back row. Most of it is uninspiring. You hate to admit that you really enjoyed Damian’s rendition of the Icarly theme song. It was weird, but in that sort of niche artistic way that made it cool to you.

When The Plastics get on stage you’re surprised to see Cady with them. It was unsurprising to see everyone recording the performance. You’re sure some weirdos would be glad to have that performance at their disposal.

 It is more difficult to watch this year than the previous. Something is more off key than usual. When the cartwheel spot is being set up you see Karen’s knee buckle first then Regina slams into the floor.

When she does, the crowd erupts. You shoot out of your seat as well. This is her worst nightmare. In a digital era, there’s no way that this isn’t going to go viral.

You don’t know why you’re running out of the theater, but you are. You didn’t know where to look for her, but she had to come to her car. You stand outside the pink jeep for what feels like an eternity.

In reality, it was only a few minutes before you could make out the figure of the crying blonde. You wait for her to get closer before attempting to say anything.

“Regina-”

She tries snapping at you, but it doesn’t pack much of a punch behind the tears, “It’s pretty funny, isn’t it? I bet you enjoyed every second of it.”

“Give me your keys,” you say without pause.

“What?”

“It’s dangerous to drive under intense emotion. Give me your keys, so I can take you home,” you reiterate.

Regina wants to question it, but she doesn’t want to ruin tonight even more. She put her keys in your hands. You don’t say anything else, simply waiting for her to get in the car.

When she does, you begin driving to her house. You can see her scrolling through her phone, so you snatch it from her at a red light.

“Stop,” you tell her, knowing she’s looking at her viral moment.

When you get to her house you follow her to her room. She faceplants on her bed and you watch as her body begins to vigorously shake with sobs.

You sit next to her your hand rubs her back soothingly, “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“You’re not happy that your bestie usurped me,” she says sarcastically.

“I haven’t spoken to Cady, since the closet thing happened,” you admit to her.

She wiped her eyes, “Why not?”

“Well Cady’s the one who told Aaron to check the closet,” you tell her.

“That bitch.”

You nod, “Yeah, I know that she and Janis wanted revenge, but that was low.”

Regina’s eyebrow furrows, “What are you talking about?”

You fill her in on everything and you can see her get angrier at every word.

“You didn’t think to warn me?”

You fight back, “Last time I checked they were failing. I wasn’t in on the planning, and I don’t even know all that they did. But also, I don’t owe you anything Regina.”

Her tongue clicks against her cheek, “I guess that’s fair.”

You speak again, “I don’t really know why I’m here if I’m being honest with you. I saw you hit the floor, and I just felt like I needed to be here for you.”

Regina laughs softly, “Even after all of this, you’re still thinking about how I feel.”

You laugh too, “I don’t think I can help it. I mean you are the Regina George, massive deal and all that.”

She shakes her head, “Not after this. I will never be her again.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

She looks at you, “I mean it doesn’t feel great, to be embarrassed for the whole world to see.”

“Fair point, but what is it they say about the head that wears the crown. Aren’t you a little bit relieved that you don’t have to be perfect anymore?”

She shrugs, “I guess so. My heart hasn’t been inn it since the last time we talked.”

“Regina, I don’t know if now is the time to-"

Her eyes lock on yours, “Please.”

Reluctantly you nod your head.

“I’m not a caring person. I don't usually give a fuck about anything but myself. I’m selfish and ruthless and cruel and mean. I really am everything that these people are saying about me. Except when it comes to you. I care about you more than I’ve cared about anything in a long time.”

She looks at you to make sure you're really hearing her.

“Kissing Aaron was so fucking stupid. I felt threatened by Cady and in truth I acted how I usually would. But I forgot to consider your feelings because I’m not used to considering others. I knew I fucked up and I wanted to fix it, but you were avoiding me. So, I kept the act because if I lost you at least I still had my power.”

“So, you care about your power more than me?”

Regina frowns, “No, I don’t, that’s what I’m trying to say. In that closet when you told me you loved me, it was like everything just clicked into place. We got carried away and then you left, but if you would’ve stayed just a second longer, I could’ve told you I loved you too.”

“Regina-”

“I’m almost done I promise. I could’ve told you any time after the fact, but it felt selfish. I was trying to do the right thing for once. You said that I hurt you too much and you were right. So, I thought it didn’t matter. I still don’t know if it matters, but if this is the last chance I have to say it, Y/n I love you.”

Your heart could come out of your chest at Regina’s admission. You’d love nothing more than to just pull her in and kiss, but something was stopping you.

“I love you too Gina, but what does that mean for us?”

Regina takes your hand in hers, “I want to be with you. Not just on the beach, but here, everywhere.”

You can sense there’s something she wanted to say, “But…”

“But I want to deal with the situation at school first. I want to change, but I still have to be mean for a while. I don't know if you’ll like that side of me,” Regina looks at her bedsheets.

You let a tiny smile come over your features, “I’m not really into school politics. So, I don't mind if you’re still a little mean. As long as you don't care that I want to be by your side.”

Regina has a smile that matches yours, “I like the thought of you by my side.”

“Good, because I don't plan on leaving.”

You can't wait any longer. You take her face in both of your hands and kiss her softly. Regina melts against your lips. It’s not like the kiss in janitors, it’s closer to your first kiss together. There’s a slight hesitation, but it’s not enough to stop.

“I love you,” she says against your lips.

“I love you too.”

You stayed at Regina’s pretty late that night. It was so late that by the time you got home you were exhausted. When your alarm went off in the morning, you snored right through it. You ended up making it to your third period right before the bell rang to start class.

You took your seat next to Cady. Something about her was different. She looks like Regina, more than usual. She wasn't paying any attention during class, to preoccupied with her makeup.

“What’s up with her?” You say to Janis, who sits directly behind you.

“Oh, well hello to you too stranger.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m serious, Janis.”

The artist shrugs, “I don't know. After last night I called game on the revenge, but Cady said she needed one more day.”

You frown, “Is worldwide embarrassment not enough? She’s viral all over the internet for her fall.”

“I thought so, but this is all Cady,” there’s some hint of worry in her tone.

You want to talk to the ginger, but the moment the bell rings she's out of the class. Once you’re out of class you head to the cafeteria for lunch. As you’re standing in line waiting for the food the loud chatter of the cafeteria drops.

You lift your head up to see why; it’s Regina. She’s not in her usual attire opting for something more comfortable, but just as cute in your opinion. She walked over to her usual table but was stopped from sitting.

You couldn't hear the conversation, but you did hear as Regina’s friend yelled, “You can’t sit with us.”

Nobody in the cafeteria moves to make space for the girl. Her mean nature finally biting her in the ass. You set your lunch tray down loudly, causing the attention to shift to you.

You hate the way everyone looks on, as you make your way towards Regina. Standing by her side in front of the entire school felt strange.

You hold your hand out for her to take and she does. You glare hits all the girls’ sitting at The Plastics table before lingering on Cady, “Let’s go outside, it’s stuffy in here anyway.”

Regina let you drag her out of the cafeteria towards the front of the school. You found a shady spot under the tree and sat there.

“You want me to sit on the ground?”

You look at her and then pat your lap, “You could always sit here instead.”

She takes a seat on the grass next to you, “I wouldn’t want to crush you. I’m so fat now.”

You frown and pull the girl into your lap. She squeals and tries to get away, but you lock your arms around her.

“Doesn’t feel like you’re crushing me.”

Regina looks away from you, “I’m wearing these sweats because I can’t fit any of my pants anymore. It doesn't make any sense because all I've been eating are these nasty bars that Cady gave me.”

You take the bar from Regina. The more you examine it the angrier you get.

“Don’t eat anymore of this shit.”

“What’s wrong with them?”

You feel your body growing hot with anger, “These are Kalteen bars. They’re for gaining weight.”

Regina’s facial expression darkens, “What?”

“I’m going to kill her. This is too far,” you start to stand, but Regina stops you.

“I will handle it,” Regina’s calm tone is unnerving, but Cady deserves whatever hell Regina invokes on her for this.

“Ok, but I’m here if you need me,” you squeeze her lightly.

“Thank you, baby. Not just for being here, but for what you did in the cafeteria. I know you don’t like the attention,” she places a kiss on your cheek.

You blush at her praise, “I don’t like it, but I wasn’t going to stand idly by why Cady tried to humiliate you in front of everyone again.”

“I don’t want to talk about her anymore. Karma will get her soon enough and her world will be burnt to a crisp,” Regina’s smile is small yet sadistic.

Maybe a few hours ago you would’ve warned Regina about taking it too far. Potentially you would have said something about the moral high ground. However, upon learning about the weight gaining bars, you decided that Cady needed to be humbled quickly.

You and Regina decide to ditch the rest of the school day. You spend the day at her house watching tv in her bed. It only takes a few episodes before you fall asleep, still feeling some grogginess from your morning.

After a few minutes of your soft snores, Regina begins her plot. She knew this would not only destroy Cady, but the entire population of girls at the school. They deserved it after the talent show and lunch today. If they thought she was a problem when she was mean, nothing could prepare them for when she felt vindictive.

“What’re you doing so far away,” you yawn and make grabby hands at the blonde.

“This is called full proof revenge,” she holds up the burn book.

Your eyes widen as you read ‘this girl is a fugly cow’, “Oh shit.”

“Come here.”

You follow her orders. She opens the book to a page that has your name and your picture, but no description, “Where’d you get this picture of me?”

Regina shakes her head, “Not important. You need to write something mean about yourself here.”

You give her a questioning look, “Why?”

“Because it’ll look suspicious if you aren’t in it,” she hands you a marker.

You don't think about it too much as you write ‘Gay Loner Weirdo’ above the picture.

“Simple, elegant, classy,” you hand the marker back to her.

“Timeless if you will,” Regina jokes.

You nod feigning insight, “Yes, it was either that or Regina George sympathizer, but that felt too new. Gotta make them think I was always in there.”

The two of spent the rest of the day enjoying each other’s company. It was a nice change for once. You found yourself thinking that you could get used to having Regina to yourself like this.

You expect chaos the next time you step onto campus, but you aren’t prepared for what you walk in to. The halls were a mess. Girls are fighting, running, and screaming everywhere you look.

“This is insane,” you whisper to yourself.

“This is what happens when you fuck with Regina George,” the girl appears by your side faux distraught on her features.

You don’t get to answer her before principal Duvall calls for all the girls in the gymnasium. A situation like this was unprecedented in the history of the school. So, it didn't surprise you that none of the faculty knew what to do about it.

They were trying some weird truth and unity trust fall that you thought was a shitty idea. Things were cringy at first, but it seemed like the message was working on a few girls.

When Janis gets up there things take a turn for the worst as she begins to air out Regina and Cady’s dirty laundry, “… and I find it so ironic because while Regina’s been calling me a pyro lez she's been busy having summer beach romances with Y/n. Pretty fucking gay if you ask me.”

She lets out a scream before falling into the arms of the student body who began changing her name and carrying her out.

The only students left in the gym were yourself, Cady, and Regina. Cady’s remorse finally manages to kick in and she starts to apologize. She doesn't get too far in before Regina storms off. You stay hot on her heels as Cady follows the two of you. Regina makes it all the way to the front lot before she turns around to start arguing with Cady.

The closer Cady gets to the blonde, the further Regina goes into the street. You’re somewhere in between trying to mediate the situation.

“Why don't we do this somewhere private for once? Where the while school isn’t involved,” you suggest.

“I don't have anything to say to her except that she's parading around as a cheaper version of me. She can imitate take it all, but she’ll never be as good as me,” Regina spits out.

“Regina, I’m-"

You look between the girl’s and that's when you see the bus coming from the corner of your eye.

“Regina!”

You scream her name, and your body moves on its own as you forcefully tackle the girl to the ground. You make sure to protect her head with your arms as you go down on the concrete. Everything feels like it’s slowed down as your arms connect with the concrete.

That feeling is nothing compared to the pain you feel in your leg. You cry out in pain at the feeling of your leg being run over by the bus.

“Oh my god, Y/n. Someone help, quit standing around like idiots. Call an ambulance or something, make yourselves useful,” Regina yells as the entire school looks on.

She repositions herself so that your head is in her lap as she holds your sobbing figure. She can’t help it as her own tears begin to fall.

When the ambulance comes, you’re loaded in and rushed to the hospital. As much as Regina fought to get into the ambulance, they wouldn't let her. She knew you were going to need surgery on your leg, it had to be completely broken. All she could do was worry and count down the moments until she would be able to see you.

It took a full day for you to wake up after the accident and another before you were allowed visitors. Regina was the first person there.

The first thing she did was kiss you, “Don’t ever do anything stupid like that again.”

You laugh tiredly, “I believe the words are thank you.”

“It’s not funny Y/n, you could’ve died.”

You readjust the bed to sit up straight, “I wasn’t going to let you get full on hit by a bus Gina. My leg will be fine after rehab. The doctor says I'm lucky that it broke clean, but I might have some permanent nerve damage.”

“But you'll still be able to walk?”

You nod, “It’ll take a few months, and I might have like a permanent limp, but I’ll be able to walk."

“You saved my life,” her hand interlocks with yours.

“I mean we don't know that. You could've survived being hit by the bus,” you joke further.

“Oh yeah, totally would've survived. Probably would be walking around with the hottest neck brace on the market,” she rolls her eyes.

“Super fetch neck brace,” you add.

She groans, “I love you, but you have to stop saying that.”

“I love you too, but I’m going to keep saying it,” you kiss the back of her hand.

Regina isn't the only one who stops to visit you. You’re a little surprised to see Cady stop by. The popular persona was nowhere to be seen. She looks the same as the first day you met her.

“I know you probably don't want to see me, but I came to apologize… for everything. I did exactly what you warned me not to and got caught up in the school politics,” she stands by the forest while she talks.

You motion for her to have a seat, and she does so cautiously. You let out a breath before addressing the girl, “I did warn you, but sometimes you have to make mistakes to learn and grow. When you sent Aaron to the closet, I was so upset with you. Maybe I could’ve forgiven you then, but your attitude just went downhill from there.”

“I know.”

“I’m not even mad about it anymore. I’m more upset about what you did to Regina. Some of that shit was pretty low, Cady,” you tell her.

“I know, I got caught up in Janis’s plan. I was so excited to have friends that I thought going along with it was ok, but it wasn't. What makes it even worse is that I got carried away and became someone I’m not. And now you're here in the hospital because of me,” she can’t look at you.

“Cady you weren't driving the bus.”

She stands her ground, “It’s the domino effect of my actions. No one would’ve been-"

You cut her off, “Cady this isn't your fault. You sound crazy. I literally kind of threw myself in the path of the bus. It was my choice, and I stand by it. Instead of taking accountability for things that aren’t your fault, maybe you should focus on the things that are your fault.”

“Like with Regina,” she says to herself.

“Regina, Janis, hell even Ms. Norbury. Apologize and mean it, that’s a step in the right direction,” you tell her.

“How do you always manage to have the right advice?”

“We're all just actual human beings at the end of the day Cady. Falling into these boxes that we think are desirable takes us out of the reality of the situation.”

She takes in your words and then stands, “I’m going to go work on being an actual human being. Maybe when it's all over, we can be friends again.”

You salute her playfully, “Go get em tiger.”

Despite your injury, time seems to go by in a blur. Rehab is hard and the handful of meds you have to take is annoying, but it’s worth it. You were doubtful about returning to campus before the end of the year, but you found yourself cleared a week before Spring Fling. You’d have to use a crutch, but for the most part you were alright.

“You know we don’t have to go to the dance, right? I’m content staying here and finally finishing Malcolm in the Middle,” Regina says as fixes the sleeves of your suit.

“I know, but I have to let my adoring public know that I’ve escaped the clutches of death.”

Regina stops her movements, “I’m being serious, Y/n."

You place a hand on her waist, “I want to go out and dance with you. Or at least attempt to.”

Regina blushes under your touch, “Might be a little difficult with the crutch.”

“It can sit on the bleachers for one dance,” your eyes are love-struck, staring at Regina.

Her face heats even more under your gaze, “Let’s go your adoring public awaits or whatever.”

For the second time in your school career all eyes seem to be on you as you enter the dance. It could be the fact that you looked good, or maybe that you were walking in with Regina George on your arm, or more likely that no one had seen you since the bus ran over your leg.

“Do people ever do anything besides staring,” you say to the blonde.

“Nope,” she pops the ‘p’ on the word.

You don't get particularly far into the dance floor on account of your crutch. Instead, you find yourself situated by the punchbowl. You urge Regina to go dance, which she does reluctantly.

“You know rumors were going around that you’d lost your leg,” Janis appears by your side.

You look down at your leg, “Still there.”

“Look I wanted to say I’m sorry for how everything played out. It wasn’t cool to try to involve you in the drama and I shouldn’t have said anything about your thing with Regina,” she apologizes.

“Apology accepted, I’m just ready to move on from everything,” you say earnestly.

“Janis,” Regina says cordially, as she puts herself in this conversation.

“Regina,” the girl answers in the same tone.

With a respectful nod the girl in the purple tux takes her leave.

“What was that about?”

“Well, I' told you that I wanted to change. The first part of that is making amends. Janis and I had a talk, we both apologized. So now, we’re civil with each other,” Regina reveals.

“That’s awesome baby, I’m proud of you.”

She looks away from you as embarrassment coats her face, “Yeah whatever, don’t you owe me a dance?”

You laugh and lean your crutch against the wall before offering her your hand. Your leg is strong enough for the two of you to sway together as a slow song plays.

“People are still watching, I think it’s the Regina George factor,” you say so only that she can hear.

“I don’t really mind it. It lets them know you’re mine.”

A goofy smile plants itself on your face, “Oh, am I?”

Regina nods, “All mine.”

You lean in closer to her, “Weird way to ask if I'll be your girlfriend, but I accept.”

Regina begins to sputter which keeps you smiling. The smug look on your face drives her crazy. She’s quick to place a soft kiss on your lips to regain some control of the situation.

“That’s so not fair,” you say against her lips.

“It’s girlfriend privileges,” she counters back.

When the song is over principal Duvall calls for the nominees for Spring Fling king and queen to go up on stage. You stand to the side and cheer loudly as your girlfriend gets on the stage. Tension slowly builds as the man reads of the kings name first before holding the envelope with the queen’s name in it.

Silence takes over the crowd as principal Duvall announces Cady as the queen of Spring Fling. When the girl gets on the stage, you notice she’s not dressed for the dance at all. The casual attire with a letterman jacket seems like a change of pace for her.

She takes the microphone and starts to apologize publicly to everyone she has wronged. She breaks the crown into pieces sharing it with the girls on stage. She also throws some pieces into the crowd before getting off the stage.

The ginger makes her way over to you and hands you a piece of the plastic crown, “Glad you could make it.”

You smile at her, “That was probably the corniest shit I have ever seen, but you seemed like an actual human being on that stage.”

“Learned from the best. I’m going to go talk to Janis, but I’ll see you around?”

“Definitely,” you reassure her and watch as she goes off to continue righting her wrongs.

Regina comes not too long after Cady goes. She leans her back against you lightly and you wrap an arm around her.

“I'm ready for summer,” she mentions offhandedly.

“Why?”

She tilts her back to look up at you, “I'm ready to sit on the beach and relax with my extremely hot girlfriend.”

Her eyes sparkle as they peer into yours. This moment feels like it could last forever. You get to be with the Regina George in a room where anyone can see. Yet you resonate with her words deeply. Nothing sounds quite as good as having the girl all to yourself, soaking up the sun. You can almost see the book in your hand while the blonde rests her head in your lap.

“Me too.”

[felassan]

Sylvia Feketekuty: "To celebrate DA day, I've made a bluesky account that I'll keep active for a few days to talk about my work on Inqusition or Veilguard! After a few days I'll lock the account, because I'm not a social media person. Happy to talk until then though. I want to say straight off: the reception to Emmrich, Manfred, the Mourn Watch, and the Grand Necropolis has been heartwarming for all of us who worked on those people and places. Thank you all very much!" [source, two]

Rest of post under cut due to length and spoilers. [Post Two, Post Three]

Sylvia Feketekuty: "In the meantime, I do want to talk about a couple of things I saw floating around regarding Emmrich: 1. Emmrich being 52 or 50. I think people got 50 from data mining a character file, but we can't do a ranges in those files. As in, I couldn't input 50-60, it had to be a whole number. I put down 50 as an early ballpark, then went more accurate in later audition scripts. 2. Fifty-two is a old number I threw into an early document before his art or character was totally final. (And which caused another developer a headache because they thought it was accurate, I never updated it. Sorry about that.) 3. "Wait, how old is Emmrich then?" Once I saw his final character art, I felt more mid to late 50s. MAYBE early 60s. But unless we specifically state a character's age in the game, it's all malleable. I honestly would just adjust it to your impressions unless stated otherwise. 4. I've also seen comments on how weird it is for Emmrich to act like there's an age-gap in the romance if your Rook is around his age. And you're right. 5. The reason is because Rook WAS younger when those scenes were written and worked on. I felt it'd be odd if I never addressed the May-December aspect, especially as it hooks into some of Emmrich's worries. 6. By the time that shifted, it was really too late to change without catastrophic repercussions to the excellent cinematics and music and other things that depend on line delivery and timing. 7. To be clear: you can feel how you want about the age gap coming up at all! But that's how the discrepancy came about. 8. "Is there a way to reconcile Emmrich acting like my Rook is way younger than him if they're not?" Great question! I have several suggestions: -Accept it's an error. (True, but unexciting) -Emmrich considers a gap of 3-5 years scandalous. (Funny, albeit a bit cartoonish.) -The Mourn Watch has perfected swapping out organs, and Emmrich is nervously hiding that he's way older than he looks out of vanity. (Untrue, but funny.)" [source thread]

User in reply to point 6. above: "I'm personally glad it was too late to change because their argument about it is genuinely my favorite scene in the entire game! 😭💕 It's such an important moment to me" / Sylvia: "Thanks! That one was one where I was all sweatily trying to balance things out, with tone, with pacing, etc. Really glad it came together for you. (Cine and the actors did heroic things there to get it feeling just so!)" [source]

More snippets:

Emmrich's favorite ice cream flavor? Rum raisin [source]

Lots of people on the dev team shared the vision of having a bunch of gothic weirdness in that pocket of Thedas [source] (Necropolis/Nevarra)

Sylvia "especially liked writing the Mourn Watch origin, it was fun to write a fellow nerd for Emmrich to chat with" [source]

Sylvia poured some personal worries and fears into writing Emmrich [source]

On Vorgoth and their nature: "I'm a little leery of saying anything, partly because I'm cowardly avoiding publicly defining anything more until/if I ever need to. And partly because I did want them to be a fresh unknown. Sorry!" [source] "I'm glad you like Vorgoth, but I'm afraid I don't have much for you that isn't in the game. I deliberately wrote them so as to leave room, if we ever revisited them, or for Vorgoth to remain mysterious, if we did not. I'm sorry if that's not a very satisfying answer!" [source] "I will say, it was fun to throw in a few lines about Vorgoth's art collection. Their passion for it is sincere and deep. (I wanted all the Watchers to have a little non-death related hobby or interest, because they can be so singularly focused.)" [source]

Dwarven Mourn Watcher is a rare origin combo for Rook so Sylvia wanted to call it out [source]

On the outcomes of Emmrich's quest: "I tried really hard to make the options equally viable, and more up to the player's interpretation or preferences of what it would mean for Emmrich in their view. It's been interesting seeing reactions to it, which hinge sometimes on various single lines pushing people one way or another!" [source]

"The Grand Necropolis is always eager and ready for a new member of the Mourn Watch to grace its ranks." [source]

User: "I loved Emmrich's view on death and what his personal quest ultimately went on to say about the nature of death itself, and how the beauty of mortality lies in its impermanence and unpredictability." / Sylvia: "I really wanted to dig into those themes, and everyone in cine and art and level design and editing and the whole team honed in exactly on the vibe. The floral stuff especially, I was so thrilled when I played through the Memorial Gardens' with the art and lighting in." [source]

User: "I experience thanatophobia and that first conversation w/ Emmrich was so affirming and helped me describe my own anxiety to others" / Sylvia: "Thanks, the thanatophobia was, as you may've guessed, a personal experience for me too. I'm glad it was something that helped a little." [source] "I suspect that phobia is way more common than people think, and part of the reason Emmrich talks about it was to express that sentiment out loud. I find it helps sometimes just to acknowledge it." [source]

What languages does Emmrich speak other than Trade? "I think he'd be familiar with Tevene, since there's surely many, many old texts about magic written in that language. Kind of like a doctor that knows latin through their work. I also named that MW alphabet "tomb-script", though I'm not sure if it has a spoken component or not since it never came up in-game. If it does, he'd be able to speak that for sure." [source, two]

User: "Playing as a Mourn Watch Rook has been an absolute delight!!!" / Sylvia: "Thank you so much, I really liked writing those branches of the dialogue. Since Emmrich's so focused on necromancy, it was fun having a Rook who could be both casual and knowledgeable about it." [source]

User: "In your opinion, what outcome do you prefer for a romanced Emmrich (lich/non lich)?" / Sylvia: "Interesting question! To be honest, I'm afraid to answer it properly in case anyone takes my answer to be a canonical one. I really wanted either path to feel equally interesting/correct for whatever you decide fits your Rook's relationship with Emmrich. (We're also in the strange waters of meta-reasoning. I GAVE Emmrich his fear of death-Sorry Emmrich!-which makes me feel a little culpable for that, even though he's entirely fictional. And that might prey on my mind when trying to decide. A very odd experience!)" [source, two]

What music genres would Emmrich be into? "Classical music is very much playing to type for Emmrich, but I feel it's also correct. He'd enjoy a nice concerto or an organ recital. Or, if he's feeling daring, a bold new Orlesian opera! But I don't think his tastes are too outré in that area. That said, I saw someone post something like "Leave Emmrich alone, let him attend the Depeche Mode concert" while listening to Depeche Mode's "Violator", for the first time, which made me laugh. (Great album. If he could get over the shock of synths, Emmrich might enjoy "Waiting for the Night".)" [source, two]

When writing Emmrich the devs wanted to try and hit the gothic romance vibe [source]

Does Emmrich mix his own fragrance/cologne? Does he ever vary it by the season? "I think Emmrich goes to some of the many perfumers that have set up shop in Nevarra City around the Necropolis, just because he trusts their judgement and expertise. I hadn't considered him varying it by season, but that's very fun! I certainly think he has more than one bottle of scent." [source]

User: "How does Lich Emmrich have sex?" / Sylvia: "I don't mind the question! But my answer's a bit boring: I generally stay at arm's length on the more explicit romance stuff, just because if it's not stated or shown in-game, I don't want to bring in a canonical answer that might affect what people imagined. My general preference for romantic scenes that get physical is to leave blank space somewhere, so players can imagine what happens next. It's not the ONLY way to do it, I think there's legitimate artistic reasons to go more explicit. But that's how I approached Emmrich (and before him Josephine.)" [source, two]

User: "The scene with the fade glow where he touches your hand haunts me in the best way" / Sylvia: "Aw thank you. Our animators and audio people made that scene way better than I could've hoped! They took such care with everything there. I want to say that little eye-peep from Rook was added in by one of them, which was the perfect touch." [source]

User on Emmrich: "i’m curious whether you think he’d prefer dogs or cats (or both, or neither)" / Sylvia: "I think he'd consider cats and dogs a little too noisy and messy for his tastes. Not like a nice, quiet plant or skeleton! (Weirdly, I actually had a scrap of banter going over this exact subject at one point. It got tightened down to the exchange with Harding about the pig he used to hug when he was a kid.)" [source, two]

Sylvia was trying to tease Nevarra with the Tevinter Nights story Down Among the Dead Men [source]. "It was really fun to tease the Necropolis, so to speak, in TN, and I'm grateful we got to actually let players through its gates at last." [source]

User: "if Rook chooses to save Manfred and keep Emmrich mortal, what would Emmrich wish to become of his body once he did pass on?" / Sylvia: "Good question. I think he'd want to remain active and useful in death. A guide for other Mourn Watchers, or posted as a mystic guide somewhere dangerous, or perhaps an oracle in the library." [source]

User: "when and how was it decided that Emmrich would be romanceable? I remember reading that he would not be a romance option." / Sylvia: "I'm not sure where that came from, because I pitched him and then shortly after that we decided the entire cast was romanceable. That was fairly early on in the development of Veilguard, as I recall it. (Could've been a crossed wire?)" [source]

Trick Weekes: "Sylvia wrote the fantastic Emmrich "the Vol-carnage" Volkarin and everything that happens in Nevarra while dealing with a lead writer whose attitudes about corpses and undead are... not dissimilar from Taash's." [source] / Sylvia: "I still remember when you gave the very accurate feedback "I think we need to give players whose Rooks aren't into corpses some roleplaying choices to express this" and I was all "Ohhh yeaaaaaah." (Thank u Trick, you were right)" [source] / Trick: "Specifically, being able to express this without locking themselves out of the content! (For non-Sylvia folks) Given my issues with corpses, Emmrich as a whole was SUPER Not For Me, so I gave one caveat and then said, "For the rest of my critique, I will be impersonating his target audience." [source]

Sylvia on the secret origins of Manfred: "After I pitched Emmrich, I started jotting down notes and thoughts on his plots, his quirks, all that kind of stuff. It was very early on Veilguard, anything was still possible. We were chatting in the writer's room about it one day, and I think we'd just seen some early concept art for Emmrich. And our lead writer Trick Weekes joked that Emmrich looked like a man who'd have a skeleton named Manfred. And I laughed and went "Yeah he does!" And then I thought about it. It's wild in retrospect, but that one comment spurred a train of thought that led to the core of Emmrich's arc. He may've ended up a very different character without it! tl;dr: I stole it from Trick." [source, two, three, four]

"I got to play with a pretty free palette when defining the way Emmrich and the necromancers view death and spirits. But I tried to keep it within the confines of existing lore. That's one reason why that scene where Emmrich talks about Manfred to Harding goes into "the eternal question" of whether a soul actually returns with the dead or not. Nevarra has distinct beliefs, but I thought it'd be interesting if its people argue over their interpretations of those beliefs." [source, two]

"the other writers also suggested a bit later on that the big choice dig more into Emmrich's philosophies. Initially, it was more personally focused on his fears, which made it 'relatable' but pettier. Without that correction, I think it would've been weaker, I totally needed the team push." [source]

"I have a few guides to graveyard symbology, and it's so packed with references and meaning." [source]

User: "Did any of your own fears & experiences, make it into the writing of Emmrich? If yes, is it information you’re comfortable sharing with us? If it’s too personal to give any details, that’s fine as well. Also, across the other games, who do you think Emmrich will get along with best?" / Sylvia: "some of his fears are absolutely personal. The reflexive-compulsive panic over death is something I'm very familiar with, and I wanted to explore that through him. Because I suspected it was not uncommon, and worth examining. The question of who he'd get along with from the other games is surprisingly tough! Because without asking the other writers about their characters, I wouldn't know for sure. So I can only really speak to Josephine with surety. That said: -I think Josephine would be polite, and grow to like him, but would never entirely be over the ostentatious necromancy. -I think Emmrich meeting Sera would be the funniest match." [source, two, three]

"Peter Cushing was also one of my go-tos as an example of what I wanted Emmrich to be." [source]

"(Huge shout out to all the animators and level designers making Manfred run, quite literally. Like 95% of his personality lives in his movement, I think they nailed it.)" [source]

On Emmrich: "I tried to put a lot of passion and sincerity in his love for the dead, and I admit the Necropolis was THE big place I wanted to see in Thedas myself ever since reading about it in a codex." [source]

User: "Thank you for letting him have that cemetery dream date!" / Sylvia: "Having the date in the cemetery was one of the first things I wanted when thinking about the romance." [source]

"Josephine was the first time I was entrusted with a new character and a new romance at once, and that'll always be special to me." [source]

User: "How much input did you have in Emmrich's appearance in the podcast?" / Sylvia: "In the podcast, none myself. I believe it was handled by a third party but reviewed by a few people at BW, I don't know too much past that. (We did provide a descriptor and character rules. Stuff like "Emmrich never swears" and "always says amongst" and broader, more thematically useful things.)" [source]

User on Emmrich: "Are you planning any other external-media stories for him?" / Sylvia: "Thanks very much, The Flame Eternal has a special place in my heart for being the first time Emmrich got to be center stage in a story. (And very flattering to hear about the cross stitch. That's so cool!) I can't speak to any external-media plans, I'm afraid. That's not an implied hint about anything existing or not, it's just literally outside what I'm allowed to chat about. It'd be fun to do something like that again though!" [source, two]

"I must give full credit to Nick Borraine, Emmrich's voice actor. He got the compassion and tenderness the character needed right away." [source]

"And glad him being closer to your age resonated, I really wanted someone older out on an adventure. No reason that has to stop at any age IMO." [source]

User: "do the mourn watcher/nevarra in general raise their pets after they die to keep them around? like a dog skeleton with a whisp in it?" / Sylvia: "To be honest I hadn't thought out this one, but it's a very good question. I'm not sure how common that would be, or even if it's permitted to have pets running around the family crypt. (I definitely thing people would WANT to do it.) You know, I think I'm going to have to leave this one in the vague quantum foam of the future. I think I'd want to not only double check existing lore, but answer that in-game (or in a book or etc.) if we ever need to. (Hope that's not too much of a cop out. Sometimes I like to leave questions I'm not sure about alone, because until it's in an official game or story, it doesn't quite count.)" [source, two, three]

User: "as someone who shares emmrich's anxiety about mortality, getting to spend time with him, and in the grand necropolis and with the mourn watch, was genuinely soothing" / Sylvia: "Thank you, I'm glad he was a comfort. It's a familiar fear for me too, and I'd hoped he would connect that way with people very much." [source]

On the giant ribcage 'ceiling' in the Necropolis: "sadly, even I don't know all the mysteries of the Necropolis. (Which is to say it's a very cool bit of art but has no stated origin yet. Could be a large dragon, a giant...or something weirder!)" [source]

On TN story Luck in the Gardens: "It was nice change up, writing in first person and with someone so rascally. I've got an enduring affection for the Lords after writing Hollix, the scamp." [source]

User: "I just love his genuine enthusiasm for everything he does. If the other party members had fan clubs Emmrich would be the president of each and I love that for him" / Sylvia: "Thank you! I really wanted him to embody a kind of expansiveness and generosity of spirit, to stand in contrast to the eeriness of his abilities." [source]

User: "What was your inspiration for Josie?" / Sylvia: "My girl! When I came on to Inquisition, there'd already been work done on setting up the spine of the main plot, and figuring out the overall cast. But one of the advisors was a little murkier. It just said "Diplomat" on the white board. We knew we wanted someone in that position, but not who. So in a game where you were out exploring, killing demons, etc., but also had a big organization to run? I immediately wanted to make a Diplomat firmly there for you. Somebody you could hand the keys to the entire Inquisition to while you were out, and know it'd be in good hands. I also thought it'd be fun to have someone from Antiva, since that area wasn't covered yet by anyone in the cast. And I needed her to be polished, smooth, but heartfelt, because of that aforementioned trust. And that was the core of Josephine! Her voice actor, Allegra, brought her to life with such lovely charm, and hearing those early sessions also helped me further hone her tone." [source, two, three, four]

"Our music supervisor Ron Dazo hit it out of the park with Emmrich's music IMO. And so glad you liked Hezenkoss! Just very fun to write as a character." [source]

User: "Did any specific watcher raise MW Rook?" / Sylvia: "Good question! I kind of left that one alone because I wasn't sure if I wanted to let Rook define that themselves, or leave it open, and also I'd have wanted a full conversation on it. In the end that was a little out of scope so I left it unsaid. Which is to say that it COULD be Vorgoth who helped raise your Rook. And that stands until/unless we give a definitive answer (or let you choose from a range of answers) one day." [source, two]

"It was such a pleasure for all of us to finally get to explore the Necropolis, I am very glad we got to throw open the gates." [source]

User: "I was wondering if there were any Mourn Watch details you wished you had more time to explore? I was so struck by some of the ethical implications in your stories" / Sylvia: "Geeze, now that's a question. I mention it with Emmrich, but there's some resentment over the power the Watchers hold as THE mortalitasi of the Grand Necropolis, between them and the other orders. There's something to that situation I liked. There's also questions of how they select people for the order. What their standards are, how closely they work with benign spirits. And how they cultivate those relationships. How deep does that go? I also mentioned in a codex "the lives and bodies of those who tamper with the undead of the Necropolis are forfeit unto the Mourn Watch." which is pretty chilling. What's that punishment like, exactly? And in general, writing about anything weird or unexplained in the Necropolis brought me much enjoyment, and it would be fun to dig around how the Mourn Watch deals with (or what they want out of) all these mysteries and entities." [source, two, three, four]

"Geeking out with Emmrich about spooky stuff was a delight to write." [source]

"I liked writing someone older this time, it was something different for me and rewarding in some unexpectedly different ways. (And thanks especially for the nice words on DAtDM - I was very excited to introduce people to the Mourn Watch there!)" [source]

"Ah, tomb-script. I named it but it was our concept artists who went developed it with the hexagon shape-language of the Mourn Watch, which I loved. Conceptually: I think it's used purely an occult or sacred language. Something for the graves, or books on magic, but not everyday things." [source]

"Some trans people kindly offered their help with some feedback on some of the romance lines and others, which absolutely made them much better." [source]

"Trick Weekes actually wrote a ton of the banter where Emmrich inquires into qunari artifacts and customs, and Taash talks about what it was like to grow up under a scholar. I really dig the dynamic they unearthed between the two there." [source]

User: "Do you remember what was written in the script to describe ✨this✨ moment? [link]" // Sylvia: "Lol. I miiiiiight? Let me look at my notes. Ah hah, I do! My note says that Emmrich "takes a second, surprised." And then he's touched afterwards." [source, two]

Sylvia: ""i hope it's not too late, but were there any designs in mind for what Nevarra City looks like?" Not too late! We've got a few sketches in the World of Thedas books, but that's it. If the team ever went back to Nevarra City proper, I'd imagine the art team would want to do a deeper dive." [source]

Sylvia: "(Glad you liked Myrna in particular. My first Mourn Watcher everyone got to know!)" [source]

Sylvia: "I'm glad to hear getting to know Emmrich has been of some comfort." [source]

[clourey]

kaiser detests the conundrum that has been created of his emotions.

he wants nothing more than to celebrate his team’s victory — his victory — with you. he yearns for your praise, for your kisses, yet he’s not next to you like he should be.

instead, he has found rest in a lonesome corner, keenly observing you from afar.

you laugh heartily, so engaged in your conversations with the others. actually— if kaiser were to put it more accurately, you not only engaged in the idle chatter, you indulged in it.

and it is at rare instances such as this, that kaiser begins to doubt himself. it’s almost as if he set tests for you, to gauge how much he means to you. he needs to know if you’d keep choosing him, even if he pushes you away.

so when you finally approach him, he (subtly) rejects it. he’s petty, but also equally as driven.

“regrettably, liebling,” kaiser waves his phone at you, which seems to have manifested from thin air, “i’m expecting an important call soon, why don’t you hang out with.. ness? you’ve been talking to him a lot.”

you mouth an “oh,” making quick sense of the situation.

you may not necessarily be the most perceptive person in the room, however, you’re confident in your ability to discern kaiser’s behaviour and what it means.

“you know, love,” you start, ever so discreet, “ness suggested that i spend some time with you.”

there, his brow twitched, “yeah? he wants you to spend time with you now that he’s, what, feeling guilty about taking you up to himself the entire night?”

make no mistake, kaiser is not one to be trigged easily—

“you sound mad,” you press.

“can a man not be appalled?” kaiser quickly retorts, scoffing as he crosses his arms. to hell with keeping these annoying feelings to myself.

—unless it’s you. yes, you always draw out the rawest of emotions that lay waiting in his heart.

“ness was talking to you like you’re his girlfriend, and you didn’t bother reminding him that you’re taken,” his eyes narrow, and his forehead creases, “or maybe you forgot that too, huh?”

your stupid giggles answer him, and he sighs defeatedly.

his attempt at nonchalance that was so effortlessly dislodged and replace with a tirade, was tantamount to entertainment for you. infuriating.

“you could at least tell me this, then,” kaiser clutches your wrist, pulling you closer, “am i your first choice?”

he already knows how you’ll respond by the time your hands reach to cup his cheeks, your utterances of love never failing to reassure him.

[purplecoffee13]

Please, Please, Please - pt.1

Summary: “Harry is utterly fascinated by his new neighbor, Y/N, and takes it upon himself to protect her. But little does Y/N know, that Harry may be the person she is supposed to be running from…”

Wc: 5.6k

Tropes: good girl x bad boy / neighbors

Warnings: mentions of violence, cursing, bit of gaslighting.

A/N: THIS IS A TWO PART ONE SHOT based on this request. Please note that it is based around the MUSIC VIDEO, not necessarily the song itself! I decided to cut it up into two parts, because it was getting awfully long, and I was too eager to share it with you. Next part will be steamy!

General Masterlist

PART 2

You sigh, looking up at your new home. Well— you think. You're not exactly sure which window is yours, but you will figure it out once you're on the right floor. You adjust the duffel bag that is slung over your shoulder, and grab your suitcase before walking towards the entrance.

With your new set of keys which you got from the landlord yesterday, you open the door to the lobby. Or, hallway with post boxes. That would definitely be a more accurate way to describe it.

When you were little and fantasized about moving into a place of your own, you have to admit, you did imagine something a bit less... intimidating. Unfortunately, you had been left with no choice.

Ever since your dad died about five years ago, your mother has been serial dating like there was no tomorrow. You had learned to ignore the different men in your kitchen, eating the cereal and drinking your coffee at 7am, but lately something had changed.

Your mother had stuck with one man.

Sadly for you—and your mother, although she wasn't ready to admit that—the guy was a fucking prick. Worst thing about him? He was sneaky about it. When you confronted your mother, telling her you weren't sure if her new boyfriend was that good of a guy, she had flipped out. As she threw all kinds of accusations on the table, such as you not wanting her to be happy and even insinuating you want her boyfriend for herself, you decided that enough was enough.

That night, you hunted the internet for an affordable place. It's how you found this apartment. You knew it wasn't the best neighborhood, but it was a place of your own, and you were sure that you could make it on your own over there.

After all, you had a well paid office job not too far away, and the costs of the apartment wouldn't interfere too much with your saving for law school.

So, kind of on a whim, you contacted the landlord. And now, here you are, ready to unpack all of your stuff. Your mother had at least been so kind to hire a moving truck, but you think it mainly had to do with her wanting you out of her house as quick as possible. You shared the sentiment, so you hadn't said much about it, besides a polite thank you of course.

It takes you three hours to get everything upstairs, and the janitor, Rod, even helps you out with some of the big furniture. Being a tall, broad guy, appearing to be in his sixties, you had actually been quite unnerved by him. Nevertheless, you decided to play smart and throw him a sweet smile the first time you ran into him. It had faded the seemingly permanent  frown on his ever so slightly, and after introducing yourself, his face was even neutral.

It didn't take more than three minutes of chit chat before Rod had warmed up to you, and by the end of the fifteen minutes, he offered to help you. If it hadn't been for him, you would've still been carrying pieces of your couch into your apartment.

You had been able to take over the bed frame and the dining table from the previous owner, so you only had to put your mattress on your bed before you could let yourself fall on it and chill out for a while.

After letting yourself rest for about fifteen minutes, you unpack as much of the stuff in the kitchen, and you spend the rest of the night unpacking your clothes while dancing to the music that blasts through your headphones.

At around midnight, you pass out during a feeble attempt at sorting your socks.

Your peaceful slumber gets interrupted, however, by an array of less peaceful noises coming from another apartment. The first few minutes awake are spent with your eyes stubbornly closed, hoping to fall asleep again, but when you hear an extremely loud thud, your eyes shoot open.

Getting up from your bedroom, you walk over to your door, and look through the peephole. It doesn't seem like there is anyone in the hallway, and the sounds do seem to have quieted down. You sigh, turning around to go back to your bed, when you hear a shout, followed by another thump. Frowning, you go back and open the door, walking out into the hallway. You squint, and blink a few times to get used to the harsh light. Then, you knock on the door in front of you.

There's a couple of voices sounding from inside the apartment, but no one answers. You groan, knocking again, and even harsher this time. It grows quiet, and you are contemplating going back to bed, hoping whoever is on the other side of that wall got the message, but then the door swings open.

In front of you stands a man, with brown curls and a very apparent frown on his face. One that falters ever so slightly at the sight of you, and is accompanied by a small smirk. He leans against the door frame. His cross necklace dangles, visible by his dress shirt that is far from buttoned all the way up, and you swear it hypnotizes you for the shortest second.

"H-hi." You stammer, looking at the man with wide eyes. His smirk grows, and you forget why you are even here.

"Hello." He greets back, hands sliding into his pockets as he looks you up and down, shamelessly. "What can I do for you, sweetheart?"

"Uh, I just moved into the apartment across from you, and I was wondering if you could keep down the noise a little bit?" You ask, but the man doesn't respond. He solely scans you with some sort of frown on his face. You can't deduce whether that is his neutral face, or if he's pissed at you. Nevertheless, you are kind of scared. "It's just— I don't mean to be rude. I just have to get up very early, and it was very loud, so... also, are you okay? It's— I heard a thud, I thought maybe someone fell?"

Once again, it grows quiet between the two of you. With every passing moment of silence, you are regretting your choice to knock. Did you really have to piss off your neighbors the first night you moved in? Couldn't have just battled through a broken night? You curse yourself as you wait for some sort of answer.

"Sure, sweetheart. I'll shut it all down for you."

You let out a breath of relief, glad to see he is not taking it badly. You bite your lip, trying to fight your smile from getting too wide.

"Really? Thank you so much! I appreciate it, and I really didn't mean to offend you or anything. I promise, it's just because I have to get up so early and the coffee at my work is horrible so—" You stop yourself mid-sentence when you realize you are babbling your new neighbor's ear off. "Never mind. Good night, and nice to meet you. My name is Y/N, by the way."

The man doesn't say anything once again, so you take it as your cue to get the fuck back to bed before making it worse. You walk into your apartment, turning around to close the door, when you hear his voice.

"Harry."

Your head shoots up, tilting it ever so slightly at the sudden word spoken by your neighbor. He tilts his head, mocking you, as he repeats the name while pointing to himself. With that, he turns around and closes the door. You do the same, leaning against the door as you realize you have the hottest new neighbor ever.

Another, extremely loud thud sounds from his apartment, and your eyebrows knit together. A loud voice is heard, one that is clearly Harry's shouting 'sorry!'. You giggle, shaking your head at the comedic timing before waltzing back to your bed.

Little do you know, that while you fall back asleep in your comfortable bed, your new neighbor thinks about you through the entire night. Harry's mind is absent, even as they drag the body of the guy that didn't pay up in time out of his apartment, even as he scrubs the blood off his hands and face.

"Sure, sweetheart. I'll shut it all down for you."

He had been purely sarcastic, baffled by the fact that you even had the guts to knock on his door. The first time you knocked, he thought it was just noise from outside or something. No one was stupid enough to knock on Harry Styles' door. No one was dumb enough to risk it.

But someone did knock; an insanely beautiful woman with nothing but an oversized shirt on. Well, shorts under it maybe, but for the sake of his imagination, you didn't. And you weren't stupid, you just didn't know whose door you were knocking on.

Anyone else who would have been foolish enough to do so, especially while he was dealing with a deadbeat who owed him more than enough money, would've met an entirely different fate.

The way you stumbled over your words and  let your eyes travel over his body had given him too much of an ego boost not to play with you a little bit. And once you had reacted so genuinely to his sarcastic response, he somehow didn't have it in his heart to tell you that he wasn't being serious.

Which is strange, because he didn't peg himself for someone with a heart, not anymore.

Nevertheless, he decided that you were right. The incessant noise had gone on long enough. And so, right after he closed the door, Harry turned around aimed his silencer right at the deadbeat's head. Following the thud of his body falling down, he had shouted a 'sorry' for the last noise he would make that night.

Now, as he lays in bed, the reason for his sleeplessness isn't the weight of another death on his shoulders. No, it's his new neighbor and her long, bare legs.

************************************************

ONE DAY LATER

Your shoulders are hurting.

After yesterday's moving activities and today's excruciatingly long day at work, you are exhausted. Not only did you have to do an insane amount of paperwork today, you also got assigned to even more administrative work that shouldn't even be yours to deal with in the first place.

When you had mentioned you wanted to gain experience in the field of law during your interview for receptionist at a law firm, you hadn't expected them to throw all the work in your lap. You were doing a lot of things, spending way too many after hours in the office, doing jobs that were never in your job description, and instead labeled as 'ways to gain experience'. The worst thing is, your boss is acting like these tasks are a huge favor to you, but you know it's just the jobs that they are too lazy to do themselves.

Nonetheless, you don't say anything about it. Despite the cruelness and sometimes uselessness of the assignments you are given, you do have access to active cases that lawyers are working on, and it gives you an opportunity to observe their styles and its effectiveness.

Wanting to become a lawyer is something you had always dreamed of. You loved justice, and you weren't afraid to fight for it. In your day to day life, you are very sweet, bubbly, and in some cases—like yesterday—even shy. But once you are in a professional setting, you can switch and stand strong. The division between your personal and professional self is one you have learned to balance very well, and you also use it as a secret weapon. People are way too quick to underestimate you, and you always make sure it comes back to bite them in the ass.

You put your groceries and briefcase on the ground, allowing yourself to look for your keys, which you forgot to take out of your bag and are now buried somewhere at the bottom. Head deep into your purse, you don't notice Harry walking out of his apartment until his door shuts. It is right after you've found your keys, so with them in hand you turn around to greet him with a smile.

Your new neighbor looks gorgeous, which doesn't bode well for you because you are currently feeling like an expired, mushy sack of potatoes. You shiver at the thought.

"Hey!" You say instead.

"Hello sweetheart." His smooth, English accent hits your ears just right. "Sleep well last night?"

Your cheeks turn pink, and you nod. "Yes, thank you for asking. Oh! Speaking of..."

You turn around and bend down to dig through your grocery bag. When your eyes meet Harry's again, you are reaching out a bouquet of flowers. He stares at it, wary of your intentions.

"They're for you." You feel the need to clarify.

"Aw, sweetheart, you didn't have to go through the hassle of buying me flowers. I'm quite an easy man you know, all you have to do is ask." He says, grin wide as he observes the way your eyes nearly pop out of your sockets at the suggestion of him and you. He likes seeing you all flustered.

"W-what, no! I— it was for yesterday! Because you were so nice to me. I wanted to make up for meeting in such an unfortunate way. Didn't want you to think you have a shitty neighbor now or something." You explain, watching Harry's amusement at your awkwardness.

"I'd never think that, sweetheart." His voice is low, and despite saying it in a bit of a joking way, you swallow at the sound of the sentence. The raspiness of it just gets to you. You brush your nerves off with a weak smile, and turn to open your door.

"Well, have a good night." You say, awkwardly waving at Harry as you carry your bags into your apartment. You place them in your hallway before walking back to close the door. Harry waves back with the flowers, winking at you.

"Good night, sweetheart."

Your heart races at the continuous nickname. It sounds so sexy coming out of his mouth, and it is the only thing you can think of as you cook your dinner. It is even hard to concentrate while watching your favorite show.

A few hours go by, and the sound of Harry's voice doesn't fade from your mind. Neither does the excruciating pain in your shoulders. At around nine p.m. you give up and decide to grab some painkillers. However, to your great horror, you find out that you ran out and forgot to buy new ones.

Cursing yourself, you rush over to your coatrack and grab your jacket. Along with your purse, containing important things such as money, your keys, and pepper spray, you leave your apartment to pop into the convenience store nearby.

It's only a five minute walk, but with your speed you cut a minute from that estimate. It takes a little bit to find the paracetamol, but after grabbing two boxes of pills, you rush to the cash register. You wait until the man in front of you has paid, smiling politely when he turns around to walk out of the store, and step forward to pay for your painkillers.

Despite the cashier's monotone voice, you are more than satisfied with this convenience store, and you walk out smiling at the knowledge of being rid of your pain very soon.

You flinch at the sight of the man from before standing right outside, grinning at you as you walk by. Despite his middle aged appearance, his teeth are rather yellow. You avoid making further eye contact, tension growing in your stomach. As you walk back to your apartment, you make sure to keep your pace quick.

You're too scared to look behind you, but you feel it. You feel that this man is walking a few meters behind you and you also feel like you might throw up. But you keep walking, keys in one hand, pepper spray in the other.

You are ready to open the door that leads you to the hallway of your apartment complex, and immediately push the key into the hole once you get there. But for some stupid fucking reason, the door won't budge. Your heartbeat rises and your hands are getting clammy as you shimmy your keys, trying to open that goddamn door. As your eyes begin to water, you hear a voice behind you.

"Need some help, pumpkin?"

Frantically, your gaze searches for a way to get out of here. It falls into the intercom, but you can't seem to find some sort of emergency button. Since you can't buzz yourself in, that option seems to be useless.

Then, an idea enters your mind.

You take a deep breath, hoping it'll steady your voice before you respond. "No thank you."

The man chuckles. "I think you do. 'S okay, I like a damsel in distress."

Pulling the key out of the hole and wrapping your hand around it, you turn around to the man. You swallow your pride and try to be as nice as you can be when rejecting someone. Stepping back a bit, you almost lean against the wall as you blindly press one of the buttons behind you. Luckily, the noise of ringing a bell isn't very loud from downstairs, so you don't think the man notices your sneaky action.

"I am fine, good night." You say, your smile gone now. You can't find it in yourself to be nice and sweet after that creepy comment. Technically, you are very helpless right now. Because of him, and his actions that fill you with fear. The threat of his presence is what makes you that 'damsel in distress' in the first place, and you hate the fact that men idolize saving you when often they are the danger itself.

"I don't think you are. Why don't you come with me, get a drink together?" His tone is dominated by the insincerity that drips from his words. You know it isn't a question, it's a command. The salacious smirk he wears with it is disgusting, and the way his eyes shamelessly scan you makes you want to shower five times just to feel less gross.

You feel the slight pain in your thumb for pressing so much and hard into the button behind you, but you can't help but pray that your idea will work.

"No, please leave me alone." You try to be as stern as you can, although your shaky voice isn't conveying that message very well.

"I don't think you understood what I said, pumpkin. You and me are gonna get a drink together." He reaches forward and grabs you by your arm, pulling you towards him. You try to shake him off of you, but his grip only tightens. You choke out a cry, still trying to get his grimy hands off of you while he only buries his fingernails further into your skin.

"Let me go!" You scream as loud as you can, hoping that there is someone who will at least hear you. Your free hand reaches into your purse, and you pull out your pepper spray. In a split second, you are holding it up and spray it in the man's eyes.

He shrieks in shock, and lets go of you, covering his eyes with his hands. You quickly turn around to run back inside, but crash into a body on your way there.

Holding your waist, Harry keeps you from falling over. He frowns, his jaw clenching when he catches your terror filled, red eyes.

"Go inside." He orders. While the context is stern, the words spoken come out way softer than one would think when demanding something from someone. You don't have to be told twice, rushing through the open door and running up the countless flights of stairs. You are completely out of breath when you reach your floor, but you don't stop hurrying until you are in the safety of your own apartment.

You tear all your clothes off your body, feeling like you might choke because everything you have on feels to tight to your skin. You keep crying as you jump into the shower to wash yourself off, as you take off your make-up, and as you put a tank top and loose sweatpants on your freshly washed body.

You take your head out of the bun it was in to keep it dry as you walk towards your front door upon hearing a knock. When you open it, you're standing face-to-face with your neighbor.

"Are you okay?" Harry asks, eyebrows knotted as he looks at you. You nod, not wanting to say a word because you don't want to make him uncomfortable by becoming a blubbering mess in front of him. "Can I come in?"

You nod again, opening the door further so he can enter your place. His steps are careful and light, and you see his eyes scan the apartment as he walks in. You shut the door behind him, making Harry turn around to look at you.

He is back at your side as soon as he spots the marks on your arm that the creepy man left when he tried to take you to god knows where. With a tight jaw, Harry glances up at you.

"You need to put ice on that. It's gonna bruise."

You look down, too timid to meet his gaze, and notice Harry's red knuckles. It doesn't take you very long to put two and two together. For some reason, you don't want to directly mention that just yet, so instead you whisper:

"You too."

Harry lets out a breathy chuckle and nods his head, watching you as you walk over to your freezer to get some ice. Putting it in two different dish cloths, you hand one to him before walking over to your couch. Harry follows suit, plopping next to you and putting the cloth meant for him on your arm.

Flushed from that action, you slowly grab his hand and place it flat on your thigh. Ignoring the way it makes the rest of your body feel, you press the ice filled cloth against his knuckles, hoping the cold will give him some relief. He winces, his fingers tightening around your thigh ever so slightly before immediately relaxing again.

Your eyes travel to your own arm, initially to see Harry's hand wrapped around it. However, the sight of the red marks on your arm make your eyes water again, the memory from what just happened resurfacing. The sickening fear of not knowing how the fuck to get out of that situation is as overwhelming as it was just before, even though you are safe now. You hate that a man made you feel so weak.

You can't help the tears from flowing, so you just let them as you silently recall the events of tonight. Your thoughts are cut in on when Harry removes his bruised hand from your thigh and cups it around your jaw. He leans forward, green eyes all sympathetic.

"It's okay, you're okay. He won't hurt you anymore, or ever again." He whispers. You shut your eyes, your silent tears now breaking into soft sobs. There is no choice but to let the sadness flow, and relish in the comfort of Harry's fingers wiping away your tears as you cry out the stress you had been feeling, and give it a place.

You feel it getting lighter with every cry. Each tear that Harry catches is a bit of weight off your shoulders. For some reason he chooses to sit there and offer you a space to store your pain. And even though normally you would never allow yourself, tonight you make use of that space.

*****************************************

A few weeks had gone by, and Harry had taken it upon himself to become your new watch dog. After what happened, he refused to let you go outside by yourself.

The morning after the incident, you got up and went to work like normal. But when you opened your apartment door, you ran into Harry, who had also been planning on going outside. He walked you to your car, and watched as you drove away. That night, when you returned from work, you ran into him again in the hallway downstairs, and walked to your apartments together.

After about three nights of these exact same situations, you could confirm for yourself that Harry was waiting to escort you anywhere.

You thought confronting him about your knowledge of his schemes would put an end to the overprotectiveness, but you were proven wrong. Instead of toning down his behavior, he amped it up. There wasn't a trip to the supermarket that you made by yourself anymore. And anytime you tried to say something about his following you everywhere, he would make up a silly excuse that left you speechless with flushed cheeks and a stupid grin on your face. You gave up fighting it not long after that, mainly because you enjoy his company so much.

Being so close to Harry all the time did make you realize how much distance everyone else kept from him. You didn't miss how people avoided his gaze, or how certain cashiers stumbled over their words as you paid for your groceries. It had you wondering; just how scary was Harry?

Harry had really taken it upon himself to protect you. It kind of went automatically, if he had to be honest. He simply couldn't watch you walk around the neighborhood so defenseless. What happened to you had enraged him so much, he didn't want a repetition of it.

Of course, an exact repetition was not an option anymore since he had beaten up the guy who assaulted you to the point where he was hospitalized. Harry couldn't find it in himself to feel even the slightest of remorse. Well, maybe only for the fact that he didn't kill him right then and there. He would have, had he not been too worried about you being alone upstairs.

Soon enough, word had traveled about your association with Harry, and it resulted into people being afraid of you. You were so incredibly confused about the shaky voices of people you'd ask for help in stores. You had never imagined yourself to have such an intimidating aura.

Since Harry had taken it upon himself to watch you, you had taken it upon yourself to feed him. It was the least you could do, and it gave you a reason to keep him around longer at night.

Part of you was aware that wanting to get closer to Harry might not be the best idea, especially considering the collectively instilled fear that lingered everywhere he would go. But he was so sweet to you, and you were sure that there was an explanation.

So, tonight during dinner, you had decided you would ask him about it.

Harry was delighted when you asked him if he wanted to stay and eat, and didn't hesitate to say yes. Now as he leans against the counter, watching you cook the pasta you promised to prepare, you have to actively control your breathing. His intense stare has a way of turning your legs into jelly and fogging up your mind.

"How was your day?" You ask him as casually as you can. Harry doesn't tear his eyes off of you, grinning at the way he is making you squirm.

"Good, love."

You swallow at the new nickname he suddenly conjured up. The low baritone of his voice combined with his green eyes on yours has your heartbeat getting out of control. You hear the breathy chuckle leaving Harry's mouth, and it makes your stomach turn. He knows exactly what he is doing.

"So, uhm... I have a question." You say, focusing extra hard on stirring the boiling pasta. He hums, indirectly telling you to ask away. You turn down the pitch on which your pasta stands, and turn to face him. For the first second that you meet his eyes, you were forget what you were even going to ask him, but you quickly regain your senses.

"Why is everyone here so afraid of you?" You tilt your head, really observing Harry. Sure, he is tall, with a broad and muscled figure. He always wears dark clothes and his green eyes will never look away first. But to truly be terrified of this man? You couldn't imagine why.

Harry doesn't say anything. He pushes himself away from the counter and walks towards you, slowly towering over your smaller frame. He leans forward, his face closer to yours than it has ever been before, and it gives you ideas that you probably shouldn't have.

"Do I scare you?"

Silently, you shake your head. Harry's eyes slowly travel down your face, fixating on your mouth for the longest five seconds you have ever experienced, and then shoot back up to meet yours again. "Then why do you care so much about what others think?"

"I don't." You respond embarrassingly fast, overwhelmed with a need to get his approval.

"Well, there you have your answer."

With that, he turns around to the counter and grabs the glass of white wine you poured for him. Taking it between his hands as if it were a cocktail glass, you watch entranced as he takes a sip. Your gaze falls onto his hands. You feel sinful for the thoughts that occupy your mind, but they fly out the window when you spot how bruised his knuckles are. And you realize...

"No, I don't." You say sternly. Harry looks at you, amused by your protest. "I don't know anything about you, Harry."

Harry laughs, but it’s a bitter laugh, accompanied by his hand running through his hair and his head shaking as if he can’t believe what he is dealing with. A part of you wants to get on your knees and beg him to forgive you for being suspicious of who he truly is, but you refrain from doing it.

“People fear what they don’t know, Y/N.” He says, his eyes finding yours. Your heart starts beating faster, aware of the fact that his eyes are going to keep being trained on yours without even so much as faltering.

“I don’t give a fuck about what those people think of me, they don’t know me. You do. So why is their judgment relevant? I’m here, aren’t I? Standing in front of you, letting you know me. Is that not enough?”

You feel a pang of guilt in your stomach at his words, and the authenticity of them. You let out a sigh, breaking eye contact to look down at the floor, contemplating what he’s saying. Maybe he is right.

“Sorry.” You say so softly it could almost be classified as a whisper. The feeling of Harry’s fingers pushing your chin up makes your eyes meet his, and you notice the hint of a smile he wears.

“Go sit.”

Slightly confused, you follow his order, looking back at him to see him finishing up the pasta and making a bowl for the both of you.

“I’m 29.” He states, his back still to you. Your mouth breaks into a smile, and you prop your elbow on the couch, leaning your chin into the palm of your hand as you observe him.

“Really?” You are grinning like a proper idiot now. Harry nods.

“I don’t have any siblings, but we did have a dog, and we rescued a stray kitten that was sleeping in our garden.” He goes on, turning around and walking over to the couch with the bowls of pasta. He sits down and hands you one.

“What are their names?” You ask.

“Dog is called Pepper. Mum let me name the cat, so I named her Hades.” He explains, making you a giggle.

“You named your girl cat Hades?”

“Persephone is such a mouthful. Plus, I was like ten, and had this big obsession with Hades.” He shrugs, taking a bite of the pasta. Your eyes widen, and you begin to laugh even harder.

“You mean to tell me that little ten year old Harry was obsessed with the Greek God of the underworld, the God of death… Are you okay?”

Harry shrugs. “He’s just doing his job.”

You cover your face with your hands, beyond amused by his nonchalance. You don’t see it, but Harry might take more joy out of the situation than you. His eyes sparkle with adoration as he watches you laugh, and he wishes he knew how to control time just to stay in this moment forever. There is something so extraordinary about your happiness being caused by him. He is fascinated with how much he wishes he could do it every day for the rest of his life.

He didn’t know whether opening up about himself was the smartest ideas, but he would give you his social security number if it made you laugh like that.

You take your hands off your face and look at him, the sudden urge to kiss him being almost unbearable. Almost. You sigh, not knowing how to express these feelings you have towards him, so instead you opt for a simple comment.

“I’m so glad you’re my neighbor.”

Harry smirks. “I’m glad you’re my neighbor too.”