#they were talking about specific girls and how some girls are worth more than others(?)

[humanityinahandbag]

I'd like to tell you all a story about my grandmother.

My grandparents raised their children, four girls (one of them my mother), to be fighters. My aunts marched in Washington for women's rights with babies strapped to their chests and like to joke that all of the grandchildren who came from that line (including myself) were born with picket signs in their hands.

But it started with my grandparents. They fought hard for what they believed in. They marched against Vietnam. They marched for Martin Luther King. They marched for women's rights. They marched for a better future.

But let's talk specifically about my grandmother for a moment.

My grandmother unfortunately passed away in 2016. She had to watch the first Trump election and did so knowing that it would probably be the last election she'd ever see. And there is some argument there that she could have given in to fear and defeatism. She could have decided none of it was worth it, and she could have decided that fascism had won and the world was over.

But she did something else instead.

To give some context, my grandparents had friends who were Republicans. I say were, because they shifted from the normal Republican towards the MAGA Republican we see today. And despite a very clear message from my family about how we felt, they were more than ready to still come to the funeral as if everything was normal. Like their beliefs were normal. Like they were welcome to celebrate someone who had fought so hard for the rights of other people.

These were people who would have absolutely used their rhetoric to scream and shout if they were left out or disinvited.

And so my grandmother, even past her final moments, pulled the most brilliant, petty move I've ever seen.

She'd decided ahead of time that everyone who had known her was more than welcome to attend but that she wanted everyone attending the funeral to donate money. That was the requirement to be invited. And so everyone did just that. There was no talk about what the donations were for, just that they were appreciated. I want to say that the assumption was the money would help pay for funeral expenses and give the family some support while we grieved.

Except that wasn't the case.

Because in those final moments of the funeral, the rabbi stepped forward to thank everyone, and then very cheerfully announced;

"Arlene was so happy to know just how many people were coming to join us here today. She couldn't have been more proud of her family. And I'm sure she would have been elated to see just how much money you all gave today to Planned Parenthood."

When I say that the faces of those people are enshrined in my memory, I mean it. The anger, the devastation, the rage, the betrayal. It was an absolutely gorgeous display of true defeat at the hands of a boss ass old lady who literally fought with her last breath and threw up both middle fingers all the way out the door.

What I'm saying is this.

It is very easy to feel defeated. It is very easy to think that everything is over, and there's nothing left for us to do. It's very easy to say that fascism won, that fear won, that hate won.

But that's only true if you let it be true.

There is always more that we can do. There is a future that is still worth fighting for. And it's more than possible, even when it doesn't seem like it.

And fighting is going to look different every time.

Some days it will look like picket signs in our hands.

Some days it will look like spending time with friends and family and people you love and knowing that you have a community that supports you and your vision of a brighter future.

And some days, it's pulling absolute natural level 20 petty trickster shit even after you've left the world.

Because you can always make an impact and you can always add a little brightness to life, and if that means tricking a group of MAGA idiots into throwing their money behind Planned Parenthood in the middle of your own goddamn funeral then that's what it means.

Keep fighting. People have done it before you. People will continue to do it after you.

And enjoy the little victories.

(Even the petty ones)

[cheyisagirlkisser]

・゜゜Gamer Ellie Headcannons ・．

NSFW CONTENT BELOW, MDNI

✧.* Gamer Ellie wears those plaid boxer-shorts around the house adorned with some random t-shirt she often sleeps in. When she's out and about, she loves her classic flannel or white wife-beaters, sports bra peeking out of the fabric when she moves just ever so slightly. Converse and doc-martins all the way. You'll beg her not to wear it in public, but Ellie's got this one black Call of Duty t-shirt that is she is obsessed with.

✧.* Gamer Ellie ismore introverted than anything. She likes staying inside with you and watching movies with you rather than going on restaurant dates. Speaking of movies, gamer Ellie would be more into comedy and sci-fi than anything. I've mentioned in previous headcannons Ellie would be a huge Jurassic park fan, but some other movie / shows she'd be begging you to watch with her are Airplane, Star Trek, and Pulp Fiction. Anything with action or on her level of dumb humor, and Star Trek for when she's geeking out. It's her guilty pleasure.

✧.* Gamer Ellie's favorite type of physical touch is having your fingers running through her hair. She likes to feels your touch in such a light, vulnerable way. Sometimes when she's playing a game, you'll approach her from behind and massage her scalp with your sweet touch. "Babe, you're distracting me!" She'll complain with a dramatic but playful groan, but her freckled face will melt like ice on a hot day from your touch.

✧.* Gamer Ellie isn't good at multi-tasking. She loves having you all up in her lap while her fingers are punching keys, but she always seems to lose when you're touching her, let alone near her. Why? Her thoughts are filled with the night before when the two of you were about to fall asleep, giggling in bed about some video on your phone, and specifically she's thinking about when you forgot all about sleep and had a late-night make-out session with some 90's movie tuned out on the television. It's so hard to remember to reload her virtual AR when all she's feeling is the way your warm fingers slid down her back and how your breathing turned into soft pants when she got all greedy and latched her filthy mouth onto your neck. Still, she'd never tell you to get off of her lap so she could focus. You were worth every aggravating respawn.

✧.* Gamer Ellie, in bed, isn't some huge dommy-mommy or whatever you're thinking. She's really touchy, sure. But she's honestly just your average lesbian who is absolutely obsessed with her girl, and she blanks at time. You'll be on top of her, and she's got this cave-woman aura going where she's just staring at your pretty face, focused on chasing your lips for a kiss. Her hands are awkwardly perched on her sides because she forgets how to even touch you: you're such a fucking goddess, and she's kind of a loser. You're a savior, though; guiding her hands to your waist with a sweet, patient smile. Ellie will get the cue and her fingers will spread across your waist to the top of your hips, and she remembers how desperate she is. (This one was inspired by me with my gf, you're so real gamer Ellie)

✧.* Gamer Ellie is also a switch! If you want her to be the top, she'll do it, but like I said she's going to be all cute and embarrassed about it. She'll be eating you out and her thoughts will be going at 100 miles per hour: "Am I doing this right?" "She's moaning Ellie, stop overthinking it." And sometimes the only thought she can really be having is "I love pussy." Cute. When she's bottom, which is most of the time, she isn't really all submissive and whiney but more like, defensively flustered like how she got with Dina when Dina threatened to bite her on the couch. Gay panic type of bottom. She does get pretty loud when you use a vibrator on her, though. That's a personal favorite in the bedroom.

✧.* Gamer Ellie did have a Fortnite phase. She hates talking about it but she spent like an ungodly amount on the stupidest skins. She used to make you watch her play at first, and then it was you having to create a whole Epic account so you could be her duo. Ellie's favorite season? Chapter two season seven. Why? Aliens. She got the battle pass and unlocked the alien skins, too. A little after she got super obsessed with it, like yelling at some 12 year old boy telling him his mother wishes she swallowed him, she moved on to a game that wasn't making her yell at at her screen. You were thankful.

✧.* Gamer Ellie is a huge night owl. While your sleep schedule is pretty average, she will blink and it'll be four in the morning. She'll groan and pop her back before stripping down to underwear and a t-shirt and then crash on your shared bed, making you stir from your rest. She sleepily curls her body into yours, peppering the warmest smooches wherever(probably with her eyes closed or half-way, at least) and muttering out apologies for waking you in the most ethereal voice known to woman-kind (it's raspy and the one she uses during sex when she's attempting to be a good top).

A/N: Thank you everyone for over 500 followers! I hope to post some longer fics this week or at least some more arcane fics. I promised some Jinx content, hopefully that'll be soon. Love you all.

[unamused-boss]

The Player and The Cheerleader

Billy Hargrove x Cheerleader Reader

Summary: All Billy thinks cheerleading is that's it's just flips and splits. The view changes when he has a run in with a certain Hawkins High School cheerleader.

...........................................................................

Billy didn't care for anyone by any means. Either it be in Indiana or California. If he doesn't see you as someone worth his time then he didn't talk to you or give you the time of day. One of those groups in specific were cheerleaders. From his point of view they were only pretty girls to look at, that's pretty much how everyone treated the cheerleader at this point. Pretty things to look at.

The cheerleaders sometimes had to share the gym with the basketball team. Which did peeve some the guys on the team but as long as the cheerleaders were pretty they could handle it. But there was one odd ball on the cheer team, the captain. Always mouthing off the players when they got to close to the cheerleaders or a ball got to close to hitting one of them.

"Hey! Shit for brains!" A voice can be heard from then other side of the gym. "I thought the point of the game was to get the ball in the basket?!"

"Jeezu..." Tommy huffed. "Can you seriously be pissed about the same thing every time? It's just a ball." He answered to you. Clearly tired of your constant shouting at the basketball team when a ball would go the wrong way.

"And it's just balls between your legs, and they can just as easily deflate." You sassed back. To Billy, it was almost comical to watch. You with the tough guy act, puffing up your chest to a dude way taller than you with colorful pompoms in each hand on your hips.

"What a bitch..." Tommy huffed again.

"Oh get over it." Billy snapped. "What's captain pompoms gonna do?" He laughed at his own statement. Like said before he found the whole conversation comical-

WHAM!

A basketball went flying right into Billy Hargroves head. He snapped his head around to see the who had the nerve to hit him. His eyes met with captain pompoms. The two had a stare off. That's what it felt like for the rest of practice. The two practically eyeing each other the entire time.

After that stunt was over, after constant staring at one another, Billy had only one reaction in mind. A big one.

The next day followed. Billy knew where he could cut you off and corner you, in-between Mr. Johnson's chemistry class and Mrs. Shoffer's English literature class. It happened fast no one could react to it, actually you doubt anyone saw it happen. What you thought was just another normal day of school turned out to be more than that. A harsh hold took your arm, taking you away from the crowd into the more secluded part of the hall. Where you came face to face with a fuming Billy. His jaw was clenched and eyes held anger.

"What, you think you're real funny for the shit you pulled yesterday?" He interrogated. "Try it again see what fuckin happens..." His threats did not stop. Well his empty threats. As much as you are terrified of what he could do, you knew he'd never act on them. Your brave front was standing strong. Taking in every threat, comment, and remark he could throw at you. To get a reaction, if you were a guy you would have answered with your fists at his first remark. But you are not. You are you. You knew the exact thing that would make him even more angry.

" You are nothing but scuff on the gym floor, and that's all you will be."

Billy did not like that one bit. Who does this bitch think she is? His fist rose into the air, readying to strike. The force came down, you felt the air brush past your face, to only make contact with a metal locker. The sound ricocheted through the hall.

You open up your eyes. Now, again, staring at him. Anger was not held in his eyes anymore. If was fear and sadness, to you it was peculiar expression to see on his face. The actions that just happened finally caught up to you, you inhale deeply not knowing you stopped breathing. Everything caught up to you.

SLAP! Your hand came down, striking Billy Hargrove in the face. Hard enough to leave a mark. Not knowing that one had just been healed from another hand. "What the hell is your problem?" You yelled, agitated. "God, you fuckin creep." You make your way back to your class leaving Billy stunned. He didn't know what to do. He has never had someone react to him like that before. It intrigued him. He had an interest in you now.

After that encounter Billy made it his mission yo agitate you as much as possible. I mean, how else are you supposed to show someone you like them. From poking you with a pencil in class, purposefully missing the hoop so the ball bounces into your direction, anything at all just so you could look at him. He was succeeding and he was royally pissing you off. Until on fateful autumn day, everyone had gone home for the day. Except for the extracurriculars that took place after school. Two of those being basketball and cheer practice. Just as the practices were about to start, Billy took notice that you weren't with the cheer team. Which he thought was odd, but instead he chose to go smoke a cigarette before practice. He made his way to the small alley like way that was outside the gym that lead to the track field. And the sight before him made him stop in his tracks. there you stood cheer practice outfit and all with a lit cigarette hanging from your lip.

"I thought cheerleaders didn't smoke?" Billy joked to you, giving you his famous smirk.

"And I thought shit stayed in toilets, but I guess I was wrong since you're here." You said taking a huff of your cig.

"Damn, always ready with a comeback are you?" Billy said, lighting his cigarette.

"Why are you messing with me Hargrove?"

"Ouch, last name basis now sweets?"

"Shut up." You won't deny it, that dumb nickname that he started calling you grew on you. "Is this because of me smacking you?"

"No."

"Was it me hitting you with a basketball?"

"No." He said blankly again.

"Then what is it?"

Billy took a huff of his cigarette then looked you in your eyes. No hate or anger, something you can only describe as adoration.

"I find you interesting." Was his only answer.

"What?" you were confused by this answer. What was so interesting about you that made Billy intrigued. " Your like curious about me or something?"

"Exactly."

"You know curiosity killed the cat, Hargrove." You sassed.

"And satisfaction brought it back, and I am not satisfied yet so get used to me sweets." He said taking his cig a stomping it out onto the ground walking away.

You grumbled at his response, inhaling the last of your cigarette with blushing cheeks. Stomping out your cigarette then making your way into practice. 'Why does this asswipe make me blush'.

...........................................................................

Weeks of this teasing have gone by. Everyday Billy would find a new way to make you mad, blush, or embarrassed to get a reaction out of you. He claimed "It's because you so cute." Which made you blush even more. Gosh, you couldn't stand half of the guys at this school. Why was Billy the only one making you feel this way?

Truth be told, Billy had seen you around way before he had met you. How you walk down the hall with your head held high, looking away in disgust at the "popular" kids, over all not conforming to what a cheerleader is by Hawkins view point. You fought, yelled, got in people faces. Billy love all of it, it made him excited. Excited to talk to you and ask you questions, even ones you deem are stupid. All he wanted to do was to be around you. Damn, he loved it in a way.

Practice had ended for the day leading off into the weekend. A light rain pour had come down, everyone else had a ride to get them home. Everyone except you, well you did but he was running very late. Billy made his way outside to find you standing in the walk way waiting to be picked up. Cigarette hanging from your mouth.

"What are you doing here?" Billy asked.

"Waiting." You simply put.

"Do you want a ride?" He asked.

"No, I have a ride." You said. "But he's running late."

"What your boyfriend?" Billy said, the words had jealousy behind them.

"No." You sighed. "My brother you dipshit."

"oh..." He sighed. A silence fell between you two. Not uncomfortable, but nice enough for you two to be around each other. But Billy had something building in his stomach, a nervous feeling. He hated it. He needed to tell you something.

"Hey." He called to you, you turn your head to face him. "I wanted to say I'm sorry for what happened."

"What?" You were confused by what he just said.

"I said I'm sorry, did you not hear me?" Billy said, He turned his body to face you. "I said I'm sorry." You just stood there silent. Still taking in the fact he is saying sorry. "I'm sorry that I almost punched you into a locker. I realized I was acting like someone I didn't want to be, and you calling me on my shit. It made me look at you differently. I noticed more about you. How you always make sure the other cheerleaders are okay, how you genuinely care about the people you have around you, and you don't take any shit. And- shit I'm bad at this." He's now embarrassed by everything he just said. Heat rises to his cheeks and ears.

You step toward him, placing your hand on his arm. "I thought you were doing pretty well." You smiled, comforting him in a way. He just looked at you. You never smiled at him directly but now that your smile was intended for him. 'damn' He wants you to smile at him all the time.

"Do you want to go on a date?" He asked straight out. You were shocked by his forwardness, but not entirely surprised.

"You want to go on a date with me?"

"Hell yeah, why wouldn't I?" He made it seem like you were speaking a different language. "Listen one date is all I ask, her if you still think I'm a piece of shit I'll stop everything that I'm doing."

Your smile grew even wider. "I would love to go on a date with you Billy."

"Dang, back on first name basis already? Looks like I'm getting a second date already." He joked to you, in turn caused you to laugh.

For the remainder of your time you and Billy talked till you had been picked up. You both talked about anything and everything. It was pure bliss, you loved every second of it. You both were abruptly interrupted by the honking of your brothers car.mYou said your goodbyes to make your way to the car. The smile that held your face did not drop. I didn't drop on Billy's either, when getting home Max found it incredibly disturbing to see her step brother so giddy.

That following night Billy arrived to your house to take you on your promised date. Which one date turned into another and another and another. Till it reached throughout the whole school that Billy Hargrove and the cheer captain were finally official. With many guys questioning Billy as to why he picked you out of everyone, to which he said if they insulted you again he had no problem with dealing with them himself. Girls just snuffed their noses up to you since you now made Billy officially off the market. Not like you cared, he's your boyfriend now and you have him all to yourself. So you could say everything did work out in the end. You and Billy have each other.

"So I guess we have Tommy to thank since he is the reason we met?" You joked.

"Hell no, I would have went after you even if you didn't hit me with that basket ball." He smirk.

"Jeez, you are something Billy." You smiled, leaning into him to seal your lips in a kiss. Yeah, nothing could beat this.

..........................................................................

[himehomu]

With Walpurgisnacht Rising coming in 2024, I want to talk about something that has been bothering me since Rebellion. It was never the “plot twist” of Homura separating Madoka from her godhood nor her taking those godlike powers for herself thus becoming the devil. It was always people's reactions to Homura doing this and the way they based her entire character around this specific moment that really rubbed me the wrong way. Saying she's a selfish monster who's trapping Madoka in a fake world for her own personal gain or that she's taking Madoka's agency away from her and making decisions for her that directly rebel against what Madoka wants... And, to that, I just want to know.... do literally any of you know what Madoka actually wants or are you just basing her character around her sacrifice?

Yes, it was for the benefit of all Magical Girls and yes it freed them from their cycle of selling their souls in the name of hope just to die at the hands of their own grief and despair, but Madoka didn't plan to abruptly cease to exist at the cost of it?? She didn't want to be stuck between life and death only existing as a deity meant to eradicate Witches for all of time. Madoka wished to erase Witches before they are born from the past, present, and future. Going back years upon years in time, destroying Witches and mercy killing Magical Girls; fighting forever, past and future, for all time. Ceasing to exist as an individual, only able to materialize and interact with someone when they're dying of grief and sadness and pain; relieving them of that pain so that their last moments won't be in agony, so they can die in peace, but there's none of that for Madoka. There's no death, no closure, no release, no freedom from this hell of being a weapon and nothing more.

But, Madoka would never voice these struggles and frustrations. Because Madoka isn't that kind of girl. She's the kind of girl who shoves all of her problems down and bases all of her self worth on how much she can do for others, how happy she can make others, and how useful she can be. She forces a smile and masks her pain because she doesn't want to burden anyone with her problems. She puts herself down constantly, risking her life trying to help others because she cares so little for herself. Without being useful, she believes her life has no value. And Homura knows this. Because Homura knows her. I feel like most people take Madoka's bright pink colors and smile at face value and don't realize she's chronically depressed. That's why in the first timeline, she and Homura naturally got along so well: they were both girls who hated themselves and based their self worth on how they made others around them feel, both self-loathing girls who deem themselves worthless if they're not useful in some way. Madoka was just better at hiding it than Homura was. And she still is by the 100th loop.

But, in Rebellion, when her memories of being a god are taken away from her, and she's given a hypothetical scenario of her fate, she says "wow that sounds awful and scary and lonely and I would never do something like that." The Flower Field scene is one of the most brilliant and misunderstood scenes in all of anime. Majority still to this day argue that, since Madoka doesn't have her memories, her words hold little to no weight, and Homura is simply hearing what she wants to hear. So, naturally, they disregard what Madoka is saying, assuming it's just Homura being selfish. And that's where they mess up. Because, the fact that Madoka doesn't have her memories here is the whole point! Homura is already well-aware that if Madoka had her memories, her self loathing would result in her caring so little for herself that she sacrifices herself every time which is why immediately after Madoka's words, she assures Madoka that she is indeed "strong enough to make that decision." Homura just wanted to confirm if Madoka would still miss her life pre-godhood in spite of that, which she outright says she does.

There are also arguments that Homura was somehow influencing Madoka in the labyrinth aside from just not remembering becoming a god, but Shinbou already stated in an interview that this wasn't the case, and that these were Madoka's honest words. In fact, Madoka's true feelings regarding her godhood are revealed for the first time within the lyrics of Madoka's character song (sung by her VA Aoi Yuuki) that played as the ep 1-2 ED titled “Mata Ashita”. The song is about Madoka post-series which consists of Madoka wandering around aimlessly, quietly observing as humanity resumes without her, lamenting on the life she lost after becoming a god and wishing she could have been more honest about her feelings to Homura in ep 12, asking her to realize she's lonely.

[I'm pretending that I'm used to being alone, but I'm not really that strong.

The scenery is the same as always, the city is the same as always.

Even though I think everything will stay unchanged.

I still feel like I'm the only one who's tiny. Instead of "See you later."

I should've said, "I'll stay for a little longer."

I wanted and hoped that you would realize it.

But with the words "See you later,"

I lie to myself again.

And hide my true feelings beneath my usual smile. Saying, "See you later," I wave my hand.

Cracking a smile, yet I'm feeling lonely.

The truth is, I still have more to talk about.

But even my voice saying, "See you later"

is so near yet far from you that it can't reach you.

So let me say this like I always do, just once more: "See you tomorrow"]

This is definitive proof that even BEFORE Rebellion, this was already confirmed to be Madoka's true feelings.

The second time Madoka's true feelings post-godhood are adressed is via Madoka and Homura's concept movie quotes explaining that the God (Madoka) is clearly suffering in her “heaven”, which is more like a prison of isolation. The lizard girl (Homura) takes pity on her and separates her humanity from her godhood, thus making her human once more. Here are also some direct quotes from Magia Record which provides even more context for what Madokami is experiencing:

All of this, with the addition of Madoka's words in the Flower Field scene being confirmed to be her real and honest feelings, puts the whole “pulling madokami down from heaven” scene into a different perspective. Considering the entire reason why Madoka even became powerful enough to become God in the first place was because Homura's 100+ time loops linked multiple parallel universes together with Madoka at their center, and it's confirmed Madoka was suffering as a god, I would think people would be happy to see Homura reverting Madoka back to a human being and rewriting the entire universe to be a world where Madoka is happy and free, surrounded by her friends and family???

The fact that Homura's love for Madoka was so strong throughout 12 years of 100+ time loops, it turned Madoka into a goddess but when Homura was able to see just how isolating and lonely godhood was for her, she took her godlike powers for herself because she loved her and was willing to take on the exhaustion and isolation of immortality as the devil to spare her of anymore pain and sadness. Homura freed Madoka from a nonexistential purgatory prison and a decade later she's still demonized for it, how insane is that??

[honeyedmiller]

Firsts | Javier Peña

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

warnings: smut (f & m oral receiving, unprotected piv, fingering, slight size kink?), cursing, teasing, tension, some tooth-rotting tender fluff, no use of y/n. 18+. minors dni.

word count: 4.9k

synopsis: Agent Peña is determined to give you something you've been craving for a long time.

not revised. sorry for any mistakes :')

Javier Peña never let anyone sleep in his bed.

Sure, he's had multiple women in it, but not once had any of them ever stayed longer than a little aftercare from the Agent himself. He used those women to get information; fucked them so good they just couldn't stop sputtering where they've seen this guy or how they know this other man. And, deep down, he used them to fill an empty void in his heart of loneliness—something he was no stranger to, but wanted to avoid altogether.

No woman had ever slept in his bed, until you.

See, if anyone told you months ago that you would've even spared Agent Peña a proper non-work related conversation this time around, you both would call bullshit.

It all started out in the field, a few months ago. Steve kept nagging Peña about his little crush on you, and it drove him crazy that you were the only woman in the office that wouldn't give him the time of day. Of course you talked to him about work related things, puzzling together the missing pieces to finally fucking catch Escobar.

Tensions were at an all-time high in the office, and the last thing on your mind was tossing the insatiable Agent a flirty smile. You were an intense, strong-willed go-getter who was an absolute badass in the field. Even the Colombian military and police liked to work with you, which was good, because it meant they'd cooperate more with the DEA. Flirting, especially with a coworker nonetheless, was completely off limits and your one set-in-stone rule you had for yourself.

You were no stranger to the rumors roaming about that Agent Peña was a good fuck. You were also no stranger to the giggles and nudges your female colleagues gave you when they caught him staring at you. You just chose to ignore them.

It wasn't until one late night in the office that had everyone exhausted and quite literally ready to get back to the States that you gave Peña the time of day.

Steve had told the man something rather interesting that day, which he knew you'd kill him for, but he thought it was worth Javier knowing. When you went over to Steve and Connie's place to have 'girl's night' with his wife, he overheard you say that no man has ever been able to make you orgasm.

Steve immediately thought of Javier when that information sprouted, and of course, being the wingman he was for Peña, he told him. Peña wanted nothing more than to be the man that could give that to you. Luckily for him, he was sort of an expert in that area, which is why all those women he fucked ended up talking.

You never paid any mind to how suave Peña could be, mainly because you genuinely weren’t interested. Your disinterest in the Agent bothered him at first, as you shot down all of his advances and flirting tactics. It just determined him further. It’s not like he kept harassing you or anything, but he tried his best to do little things for you here and there like get you a coffee when you needed it the most or a file that would help you in the spur of the moment.

On this particular night, it was just you and Peña left in the office. The two of you were paired up for a specific assignment because Murphy was unavailable, and the assignment needed to be done quickly.

You were efficient with your work, but having the Agent stare at you like a meal on legs wasn’t helping. You couldn’t deny that he was a good looking man. A man you swore you’d pay no mind to, and up until now, it was working.

“Can I help you Peña?” You ask without looking up from your paperwork. You were jotting something down when he cleared his throat, straightening in his seat.

“I think I should be asking you that, Agent.” He shot back incredulously, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded behind his head. He gave you a smug look, and his words halted your writing mid-sentence.

“Excuse me?” You look up at him, quirking an irritated brow. Though, you found yourself faltering to his heavy gaze; hooded puppy dog eyes making your panties dampen a bit. You squeezed your legs together, ignoring the nagging feelings of want and desire.

“Heard that no man’s ever been able to please you.” He tilts his head and eyes you, from your intense gaze down to the way the first couple of buttons of your work top were unbuttoned.

You scoff in disbelief. You know Connie would never say a word, so it had to’ve been Steve fucking Murphy.

Bastard.

“I don’t see how my dilemma in my personal life has anything to do with our work, Peña.”

“I was just simply observing.”

“Well you don’t work for the BAU. Stop trying to profile me.” You snap, rolling your eyes.

He holds his hands up in defense. “You know, cariño, I could help relieve you of your tension. Noticed you’ve been real… irritable, these days.”

You shoot him a nasty glare.

“Fuck you, Peña.”

“If that's what you'd like, baby. And I’d prefer it if you called me Javi.”

“I’m not one of your whores. We don’t need to be on a first name basis.” Your tone was cold as you looked back down to your papers, annoyed at the fact that you were getting turned on by his advances. What you really should've been doing is reporting him to Messina, but it wasn't worth all of the stupid paperwork.

You were cold toward him because you needed to distance yourself. It was your own fucking rule. No flirting with coworkers, even if they're ridiculously hot and tall and tan and broad and—

"Say all you want about not wanting me, but I saw the way your legs clenched and your breathing became more rapid. Why deny yourself a good time, hm?" He tilts his head.

This motherfucker was watching you like clockwork.

You slapped the manila folder that the file was in closed, tucking it into the top drawer of your desk before gathering your things.

"Good night, Peña." You hastily exited the building, fumbling with your car keys to unlock it before getting into your car. You let out a loud sigh, head hitting the back of the headrest as you rubbed your hands over your face in exasperation.

You put the keys in the ignition and left Peña at the office alone with a stupid smirk on his face.

And, that night, you had an even stupider wet dream about the smug-faced Agent.

-

As the week went on, the tension between you and Javier became nearly unbearable. It was stolen glances and soft touches and close proximities that had you stiffening, keeping your guard up to avoid succumbing to the ache in your core. It was the very thing that clawed at you from the inside, begging to be fulfilled.

You had no doubt Javier could be that man, but you were stubborn. You didn't want to give him that satisfaction. Not yet, at least. The insanely hot wet dream you had about him definitely didn't help your case, though. It made you want him to fuck you right there on his desk.

Luckily, you knew you had self control. What you didn't know is that Javier could feel you literally buzzing with anticipation, likely waiting for him to make the first move because you were too proud to do so.

You were in the kitchenette, pouring yourself a fresh cup of coffee when Javier walked in behind you. You didn’t really pay any mind until you felt the heat of his body behind you, and you turned around. Your back was pressed up against the counter as he towered over you, his dark brown gaze ever so enticing.

He reached up into the cabinet behind your head to retrieve a coffee mug himself, never breaking eye contact with you. Your eyes flickered to his lips for a brief second. To anyone else, it would’ve been the world’s most subtle glance. But to Javier, he took it as a message.

Game on.

He lightly brushed his hand against your waist to scoot past you, pouring the remainder of the fresh coffee into the mug he was holding. His touch sent a jolt of tingles down your spine, and you swallowed harshly as you tried to remember how to walk again to get away from him.

“You look beautiful today, cariño.” He simply said, halting you in your tracks. You slowly turn to him, wide-eyed and stunned. Your throat went dry as your lips formed into a tight smile.

“Thank you.” You meekly said before heading back to your desk. In this moment, you wish a black hole could form underneath the ground you walked on and swallow you whole. The affect that Javier had on you was embarrassing, especially because you were very anti-Javier Peña, aka Mr. Sex-On-Legs.

You thinking about him like this, and the undeniable tension between you both was everything you were against. Flirting with coworkers was dangerous and having sexual relations with them was lethal, especially Agents of yours and Javier’s rank. It could easily affect your work environment and being a woman in the field was already hard enough. You didn’t need shit from your counterparts or higher-ups. You wanted to be taken seriously, and giving in to your desires was going to get you anything but.

On the other hand, the need to have your desires fulfilled clawed at you aimlessly. You wanted to experience an orgasm. One that would have your toes curling and eyes rolling back. A fucking earth-shattering one—one that would ruin any other man for you.

Javier would easily oblige and give that to you, but it was up to you to let him do so.

Oh, fuck rules and fuck morals and fuck workplace gossip.

You wanted, no, needed Javier to show you what it was like. So, you decided to play along. You knew you’d both be stuck in the office late again tonight, so you wanted to have a little fun with it.

The first move was rather bold, but you weren’t going to back down now. Later on in the day, you got up from your desk to hand him a file. In doing so, your nimble fingers softly wrapped around one of his thick biceps as you dropped the file down on his desk. You leaned down, your voice barely a whisper.

“Thanks, Javi.” Was all you said before uncurling your fingers from his arm, sashaying away from him. He stared at the back of your figure quite literally stunned, and you saying his name like that had his dick twitching in his pants.

What the hell had gotten into you? He didn’t know where the sudden flirtatious behavior came from, but he was definitely going to find out.

Steve was catching on to what was going on between you, and it was amusing him to no end. It was nice to have a distraction from all the bullshit the DEA has been dealing with regarding Escobar.

By the time everyone was starting to head home, tension was so thick it could’ve been cut with a knife. Steve even threw in a ‘just bone already!’ to the both of you, and Javier couldn’t even stifle the small smile that had curled onto his plush lips.

It was around nine in the evening, and as promised, it was just you and Peña left. He was sitting at his desk when your hands suddenly slid over his shoulders from behind, sliding down to his chest. You reached over him to grab a file you needed without asking him, just so you’d have an excuse to do that.

By that time, he’d had enough of the teasing. Before you could retract your hands completely, he gripped both of your wrists and stood up, spinning your bodies around so you were pushed against his desk.

"Enough of this cat and mouse game. Do you want me or not?" Javier whispered, trapping your body with his against the cold metal of his desk. It almost looked like he was pained, like this whole past week had been hell for him.

And honestly, unbeknownst to you, it had. He laid awake every single night wishing you'd just give in to him. He wanted to treat you right. Worship your body as it should've been worshipped all along. He didn't want to fuck some random woman for intel anymore if it meant he got to be with you.

You were too stunned to speak, and quite honestly, the arousal pooling in your panties was way too noticeable to ignore at this point. You nodded your head, breath ragged and cheeks flushed.

"Gracias a Dios." He murmured. He cupped your face with both hands, finally sealing the space between you both as he brought his lips to yours. As cliché as it sounded, your whole body reacted to his touch as you felt sparks when his lips moved with yours. You dropped the file in your hand onto his desk behind you before wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him in closer.

He gripped your thighs and easily hoisted you up onto his desk, moving between your legs to be as close as he possibly could. You moaned softly when your clit caught onto the seam of your jeans, and you could feel Javier's growing bulge against your jean-clad core.

If it wasn't going to be your first time with him, he would've happily taken you right here on his desk. But, he wasn't a total asshole.

"Come back to my place with me," He sighed against your lips. "I can take better care of you there."

You nodded vigorously in agreement, and you both hastily gathered your things before heading out to Javier's Jeep.

He opened the door for you and you softly thanked him, trying to catch your breath and steady your heart rate from everything that just happened. You hadn't even gotten to the best part of this all and you were already falling apart at the seams. It'd been awhile since you've had any special kind of attention like that in general, so it really wasn't helping your case.

Javier clambered into the driver's seat, starting up his car to head back to his apartment. A naughty idea crossed your mind, and you'd be completely humiliated if Javier rejected your advances.

Fuck it.

You reached your left hand over, rubbing his now completely erect cock through the fabric of his jeans. He twitched slightly, giving you a look with burning desire. His eyes snapped back to the road thinking you were going to stop there, but boy was he wrong.

You began to undo his belt as best as you could given your position, and you swiftly unbuttoned and zipped down his jeans.

"Wh-what are you doing?" His voice was hoarse, eyes going wide.

"Relieving you." Was all you said before tugging his jeans down the right amount so you could take his cock out of his boxers.

He was thick and heavy, the head already bedaubed with pre cum. Your mouth watered at the sight, seeing that he had girth and a good length.

He inhaled sharply when your thumb ran over the swollen flesh of his weeping head. You wasted no time, giving his shaft a few pumps before taking him into your mouth. He hissed in pleasure, the feeling of your mouth so wet and warm around him. The sounds you elicited while pleasuring him were nothing short of erotic, and it was driving him crazy.

"Fuuuck. Yeah, just like that baby." Javier coaxed you on, wrapping his fingers in your hair. His other hand was gripping the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were turning a ghost-white color. You kept going, easily licking up his silky flesh before deciding to try and take him all into your mouth.

You eased down slowly until your nose was eventually met with the dark, coarse curls at the base of his cock. Javier accidentally hit a bump in the road at the same time your mouth was completely full of him, so it made you gag around his length.

He nearly came right then and there.

"Fuck, okay, okay," He panted, gently gripping your hair to bring your mouth up and off of his cock. "I don't want to cum yet."

You pouted at him, wanting to taste him as you made him cum. Another time, you suppose. You helped him get his boxers back up over his still painfully erect member, pants following suit.

It was only a couple of more minutes before Javier parked outside of his apartment building, nearly dragging you upstairs and into his place. Once the door was closed, he pushed you up against it, capturing your mouth onto his once again. He moved you away from the door and to the couch, where he sat down so you could straddle him. It was a bit hard with the tight jeans you were wearing, but not unmanageable.

His tongue slipped over yours furiously, teeth clashing together as you both simply seemed like you just couldn't get enough of one another.

His mouth moved from yours down to your neck, leaving hot, sloppy kisses in its wake. He got to one spot on your neck just below your ear that had you shuddering with pleasure, and he chuckled softly at that.

He nipped at that particular spot and licked over it, repeating the action a few times until you found yourself grinding your hips into him. The ache in your core was unbearable, and all you wanted was to just be touched.

"Javi, please." You weren't above begging at this point, because fuck did you want his fingers in you and his tongue on you.

"Please what, princesa?" He rasped, grabbing your ass harshly as he purposefully rutted your hips against his.

"I- fuck- need you to touch me. Please." You whine, biting your lip as you look down at him with a pout. He groaned quietly when you gave him that look of feening innocence.

His lips attached themselves to yours again before he grabbed the back of your thighs, parting from your lips to take you to his bedroom. You kissed his neck while he was walking, giving it one long lick up to his ear before he placed you down on his bed.

He hovered over you, placing one knee in between your legs. He grabbed the hem of your shirt before slowly lifting it up and over your head, eyeing the soft flesh of your breasts that spilled out of your bra from this position. His mouth found itself on aforementioned flesh, lightly nipping and sucking down the valley before moving down to your torso. He eventually got to the hem of your jeans, to which he took his time in taking off.

He carefully undid your belt, then the button and zipper. He shimmied the material off of your legs, staring at your nearly naked body in pure hunger and want. He noticed the dark patch of wetness on your panties, and he teasingly chuckled.

"All this for me, baby? Haven't even touched you yet." He cooed, moving between your thighs. He gave your sopping clothed core a kiss, then proceeded to lick over the wet fabric. You moaned, gripping onto his shoulders.

"Need you, Javi." Your words were nearly incoherent as they squeezed out of your throat. You didn't know how else to make the man just devour you already.

"I know, baby. Need you too." Was all he said before gripping your panties and sliding them down your legs. His gaze met your glistening core, and he hummed at the sight.

He got on his knees at the edge of the bed before wrapping his arms around your thighs, tugging you down so your legs dangled off the edge. He moved both of your legs so your calves rested on his shoulders which flexed underneath the leather jacket he was wearing.

He dragged his lips slowly up the inside of your thighs, kissing your core once, before dragging his lips back down. He repeated that twice before he finally decided to stop being a tease and devour you shamelessly. He lapped up your existing arousal before softly sucking on your clit, moving his tongue down your folds and into you a few times before just focusing on your clit. He took his middle and ring finger and slipped them both into you, the thick stretch of his fingers nearly sending you over the edge.

You couldn't fucking believe it. All these years, no man has ever been remotely close to even making you cum, and then Javier Peña comes along. He nearly had you unraveling with just his tongue and fingers with such ease that it honest to god seemed way too fucking good to be true.

"Baby you taste so goddamn good. Fuck." Javier mewled, pulling his fingers out of you. He reattached his lips to your clit as he gripped your thighs tighter. You were rolling your hips into his face at this point, but he was making movement nearly impossible with the weight of his arms.

He then solely focused on your entrance, swirling his tongue teasingly around you before slipping his tongue inside of you over and over again. You choked on a gasp at the sensation, feeling a nearly foreign tightening sensation in the pit of your core.

"Javi." You whined, the sensation getting stronger and stronger until your body trembled, a lick of flames coursing through you as you cried out. You convulsed around Javier's tongue as you came, tears pricking the corner of your eyes at the heavenly sensation. He lapped up your sweet arousal, moaning against you before pulling away.

Your chest was heaving up and down uncontrollably ears ringing and mind hazy.

Javier looked down at your disheveled state, truly quite honored to be the first man to ever make you orgasm. He leaned down and pressed a wet kiss to your lips, tasting your own arousal as his tongue slipped into your mouth. You gripped both sides of his face as your lungs began to burn, desperate for some air. You separated from him reluctantly, looking up into his eyes.

The sight before him was truly pornographic. Your hair was disheveled, eyes glossed over and parted, swollen lips glazed with your own cum as you breathed rapidly. As his eyes traveled south, one of your bra straps hung off of your shoulders and your manicured hand rested on your abdomen. Your legs were spread just for him, and he wished he could take a photo of you like this. Not to be a creep, but because you belonged in a museum.

Part of him was secretly happily selfish that he was the only one who could see you like this in this moment, though. To look so fucked out and needy because of him. The thought alone nearly made him cum in his pants.

"How do you feel, corazón?" He asked, standing up to finally take the constraints off of his erection. He groaned softly at the release as his cock hit his stomach, still red and weeping and glistening with pre cum.

"Amazing." Was all you could muster up before hooking your legs around him, causing him to topple over you. He laughed at your sudden movements, both hands resting on either side of your head. Your hands found purchase on either side of his face, thumbs softly caressing his cheeks.

No one had ever been so affectionate with him. A warm feeling invaded his stomach, eyes feverishly scanning yours.

"You have a beautiful smile and laugh, Javi. Why don't you do it more?" You ask, brushing a curl off of his forehead. He leaned down and nudged his nose with yours, softly kissing your lips.

"I'll do it more for you, corazón." He whispers, and you pull him down for another kiss. This one was soft and slow, a much different pace than the previous ones. This one was full of tenderness and care, something you both desperately wanted but never seemed to get.

In the midst of the slow kiss, Javier moved one hand down to grab his cock so he could slide it between your folds. You gasped against his lips and he peered down at you with a gentle gaze, searching your eyes for permission. You grabbed the sides of his legs gently, silently letting him know it was okay.

He pushed into you slowly, and you closed your eyes at the sensation. He stretched you in a way that was so heady, having you feel so full when he got to the hilt. You closed your eyes in pure bliss, and Javier leaned down once more to kiss your forehead softly. Your eyes fluttered open again and met his soft gaze.

"Keep your eyes open and on me, cariño. Wanna see you." He says as he juts his hips forward, causing you to suck in a breath through your teeth.

He started to pump in and out of you languidly at first, but then it became rapid hip snaps against yours. The sound of pounding flesh and ragged breathing was all that was heard in the room. Javier made sure to kiss you everywhere he could possibly reach in this position, even moving down to softly suckle on your erect nipples after tossing your bra somewhere in the room amidst all of this.

Pleasure washed over your body and you felt that familiar heat licking your core once again. He paused for a second to bring your calves back up to his shoulders, this new angle hitting even deeper inside of you. It was hitting a spot you didn't even know was possible. You cried out his name as you tried to keep your eyes open, but it was nearly impossible with the way he was thrusting so deliciously into you.

"Javi, fuck, I'm gonna cum again." You cry, clawing at the bedsheets.

"Yeah? Go ahead, princesa, I'm right here. I've got you." He says, keeping his pace steady. He felt his own orgasm slowly building, and he knew it was a matter of time before he found his own release. Before your hazy mind could even process it, your body was shuttering again as you clamped tightly around his cock. Your orgasm washed over you once more, a little stronger than the last time.

You were so spent and fucked out, but Javier kept going. He was so close to his release, and he wanted to make you cum for him one more time.

"One more time, baby. C'mon, I know you got it in you." His teeth are gritted, jaw clenched and face so determined.

"Fuck, Javi, I-I can't." You cry, your breathlessness catching up to you. Your lungs were constricting and it was hard to breathe, but it burned so fucking good.

"Yes you can baby. I know it." He says, snapping his hips against yours at a relentless pace as he moved a hand down to rub swiftly over your already abused and overstimulated clit.

"Fuck!" You cried, clamping down on him once more but this time, a gush came out of you. That was enough to send Javier over the edge.

"Where do you want me?" His voice was so severely strangled that you barely understood him, and understood the fact that you only had a couple of seconds to answer him.

"Inside, please. Need you." You clawed at his back now, feeling his warmth spill into you at your words. His hips stuttered as they slowed to a halt, and both of you spent several minutes trying to catch your breaths.

He pulled out of you slowly, both of you groaning at the loss of contact. He plopped down beside you, sweat adorning both of your bodies as your chests heaved up and down.

"Fuck, Javi. That was..." You started once you controlled the raggedness of your breath.

"I'm glad." He chuckled, leaning down to kiss your cheek. You both sat in silence as you propped yourself up on your elbow, tracing mindless patterns on his bare chest with your fingertips.

"I should probably head out soon." Your voice is meek once again.

"Actually, I was hoping you'd want to stay." Javier says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You hesitated for a moment, before nodding slightly. "Yeah, I'd like that."

And so you and the Agent you swore you despised just days prior to this cuddled up in his bed, not worried about the repercussions that would follow in the morning.

Not the fact that your car was still there at the office and Javier's wasn't, not the fact that you'd be wearing a button-down shirt of his that was way too big on you to work the next day, and definitely not the fact that you two were much friendlier and touchier now more than ever.

It most definitely didn't have anything to do with the fact that you both provided something to each other you haven't had in a long time—

firsts.

-

hehehe hope u enjoyed @cool-iguana ily :')

[ruggiezz]

— PLEASE, DATE MY BROTHER : twisted wonderland

[synopsis] ortho decides to do something about idia's crush on you, taking the role of matchmaker

[extra] ortho reminds me of a minecraft torch. apparently, there’s one called soul torch that's blue? i haven’t played in a while. ALSO, I STILL HAVEN’T FINISHED BOOK 6 HELP ME I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE

-`♡´- What do you mean Idia's social anxiety, awkwardness, and his extensive knowledge of internet slang haven't captivated you yet?Come on, give Idia a chance, please.

-`♡´- Maybe it's the fact he's a robot and he can catch onto things faster than regular humans, but there can be no way you haven't connected the dots yet. Idia invites you to play video games and watch some new anime episodes in his room after classes. He's always talking about you, his hair turning slightly pink when you compliment him for anything he did, and he pays attention to every single word that comes out of your mouth. How hasn't anyone but Ortho noticed that Idia clearly likes you? He's starting to wonder if humans can be that dense or if it’s just you (not to be mean). Ortho isn't taking any of it. If his brother won't do anything to get closer to you romantically, he may as well do it himself in his stead.

-`♡´- Something about Ortho is that he's stubborn. When he decides to do something, he's motivated to do anything to achieve it. The Shroud brothers care deeply about each other; they would do anything for the other to be happy, which means Ortho won't give up. The idea of having you as part of the family makes it worth it. He can already imagine the future you and his brother could have together. Can he be something like a flower girl at your wedding? He hopes he can. But for now, he will have to focus on making you like his brother back first.

-`♡´- His first method is simple. It’s better to start with something small; that’s what his intensive research said. He starts mentioning Idia in every conversation where you're involved: talking about what he did the other day, about something funny he did, complimenting him, and flaunting all of Idia's new works. Ortho can finally use one of the 1,000 random features Idia implemented (Idia himself gets surprised when Ortho uses one because he had forgotten they were even there).

"Oh this? Big brother implemented this cool feature yesterday. My hair can now turn different colors and play music at the same time. Look, it´s like a disco ball!" And then his hair starts switching colors and playing music from Idia’s very specific music taste. He looks like that one disco tree in the Lorax movie.

This method was working, but then something happened. More specifically, Ace and Grim happened. They both got tired of this happening for a week non-stop and told him to talk about something else that wasn't his brother, which didn’t make Ortho very happy. They both went back and forth over the topic, with Ortho defending Idia and Ace getting annoyed over it. It only stopped when Crewel scolded them for talking in class.

-`♡´- Since the first one didn’t work, he had to change plans. The second method was to drag you to Ignihyde to play some games with him in his room. And surprise, Idia is there. Wow, who would have thought? He didn't invite him; he was just there. He CLEARLY didn’t know he would be there. Then final exams season started, and you had to stop coming by so you could study. Also, Idia was starting to get suspicious over what his little brother was up to and how you were always there when he got out of his room.

-`♡´- His last resort was to make the both of you have a date. A date that you both didn’t know was supposed to be a date. Asking you both to hang out with the excuse of wanting to see this new movie that came out, only for him to leave the second the two of you aren’t watching him. He’s so proud of himself too, ignoring your calls as you try to ask him where he is. He leaves you both to have quality time and talk about whatever you guys want.

-`♡´- Now that he has tried all he could do and everything that popped up in his mind, Ortho will ask you to meet him somewhere, where he will ask you how you feel about Idia. He says he will keep it a secret, and he will, but please tell him already; he’s dying to know.

If you do like Idia back, Ortho will cheer and congratulate himself silently for doing such a good job. He’s so happy all his efforts worked, and you and his brother can finally be together! He will even throw confetti (another random feature Idia doesn’t remember implementing) and rub his victory in the face of all the first years, especially Ace and Grim.

Now, if you don't like Idia back, Ortho will short-circuit. It's even worse if you already like someone else, because that makes it harder for him to change your mind. It's not like he will resent you if you don't like his older brother; you’re still his best friend and he's happy for you, but he will mourn for at least a year the fact you could have been part of his family. At the end, he understands you can't force love and that you have the right to be with whoever you want to be, so he will drop it.

Maybe the real ‘you dating Idia’ was the friends he made along the way? Or at least that's what Ortho is going to tell himself while trying to figure out how to make Idia’s heartbreak not hurt that much. Curiosity did kill the cat, huh?

[fortunxa]

I gave myself some time to think after watching act III, and I can finally share my thoughts. Let me break it down episode by episode so it’s more coherent because I’m itching to talk about it. Buckle up because this won’t be short.

cw: mentions of sh, depression, borderline personality disorder, suicidal tendencies

episode 7 — Pretend Like It’s the First Time

This whole episode felt like pure fanfiction and fan service, and I genuinely can’t believe how Timebomb shippers are still standing after this. Throughout this whole episode, it’s been clearly shown how Ekko will only accept one version of Jinx—the easy to digest one. The one that hasn’t been traumatized. How can someone call it love? Love isn’t picking and choosing what you accept, you either love the whole person or you don’t. Alternate universe Powder is the epitome of the manic pixie dream girl archetype for the current timeline Ekko. Would Timebomb work in that alternate universe? Sure, but that’s because it’s their reality. They don’t know anything else—Powder doesn’t become the Jinx we know now. Alternate universe Ekko isn’t faced with Jinx’s mental health problems—he has nothing to pick and choose from.

Do I hate Ekko? No, I actually like his character, but he’s torn between reality and fantasy. Can I blame him? Also no, because we’ve seen his childhood. We can only imagine what damage losing everyone he loved and cared about at such a young age (and so suddenly) did to him mentally. I can’t fault him for holding onto the past (even if he denies doing so), but it is an issue that stands in the way of current timeline Timebomb.

To him, there’s only Powder or Jinx, but she’s so much more complex than that. It’s been shown repeatedly how Jinx is a part of Powder (the whole act I of season 1), and how Powder is still a part of Jinx (until the very end, no matter how hard she tried to get rid of her).

BONUS: The necklace Powder has speaks for itself. A blue rose represents, and I quote, “Unrequited love, a longing for the impossible. A yearning for someone out of reach or a relationship that cannot be fully realized.” Both Ekko’s and Powder’s side profiles aren’t on the same side of the necklace to begin with. They only merge once she spins it.

BONUS 2: Other than “Ma meilleure ennemie” by Stromae & Pomme being an absolute bop, some of you simply didn’t translate it, and it shows. Here are some highlights, specifically Pomme’s lyrics (clearly depicting Jinx):

episode 8 — Killing Is a Cycle

The episode that started to break me. We see Jinx, absolutely drained, sitting in that cell because Isha’s death was her breaking point. No one and I mean no one, showed that girl the love and acceptance she needed and deserved other than Isha. Not Silco, not Vi, not Ekko. Building that beautiful storyline for two acts straight just to rip it away from her in such a traumatizing way—a parallel to the explosion at the warehouse, too? Wow. They were setting the stage for Jinx’s breakdown since the very beginning of this season. Making us watch the hope in her bloom, find something (or someone in this case) worth living for again, be loved and accepted for who she is just to watch it all burn and leave her with nothing again—pure evil.

“I didn’t know your mom was there.” Can you hear my heart breaking even further? That brings me to my next point: Jinx in relation to Caitvi.

After watching all of what Caitlyn did this season, not only to the city but to Vi, and then still believing Caitvi is healthy? Are we watching the same show? Season 1 Caitvi stood a chance, but this? So shallow and underdeveloped. Cait became a whole dictator. She was Vi’s breaking point, too, and the reason why she hit rock bottom in the first place. Jinx saw that firsthand, and she still thinks she’s the one standing in the way of Vi’s happiness? The only person standing in the way of that is Caitlyn herself, who isn’t even being held accountable for her actions whatsoever at any point. “We can’t erase our mistakes.” but we clearly can pretend they never happened, right?

“She’s being held in the bunker while I decide what to do.” What exactly did Cait expect from that? Telling Vi, her apparent love interest—who knows what it’s like to suffer in prison, not even physically but straight up mentally—that she’s keeping her mentally ill little sister in a cell while she decides what to do? What’s there to decide? And who are you to decide?

“I’m giving you this one chance to account for your actions, all the pain you’ve caused.” Is this projecting I hear from Cait? Can’t even tell since she never did what she’s expecting from Jinx, having done far worse things than her by that point. She let martial law take place for fuck’s sake. She used the grey to gas the Undercity (which still boggles me that Vi agreed to it). She was ready to risk Isha’s safety (a CHILD) just to get to Jinx.

BONUS (while I’m at it): Caitlyn would’ve missed the final shot, no matter how much she believed that she wouldn’t. She missed the shot twice right before that: first, when she shot Jinx’s finger off, and second, when she accidentally shot at Vi. They gave us this shot of Cait looking crazed out for a reason. She was losing her mind.

She was blinded by grief, yes, but I was waiting for the moment where she finally admits to her wrongdoings (other than screaming “I know!” while tossing a boat figurine, that is). “No amount of good deeds can undo our crimes.” Sure, and a lousy sex scene can?

Let’s talk about it.

When Jinx leaves Vi in the cell, she’s clearly suicidal and mentally unwell—even more than what we’ve seen from her so far. The dialogue they gave her, again, making her believe that she was the issue all along was just heartbreaking to hear. Yes, it’s Jinx’s perception of herself, going back to her believing she’s a jinx and how everyone close to her dies, but that perception of herself shifted when Isha came into the picture. And like I said, they took that away, so going back to the topic at hand.

Vi just being ready to hear another ‘I told you so’ from Caitlyn when she finds her, and then they just end up having “sex” (or actually, just giving Cait the pleasure Vi deserved instead after everything she put her through). We’ve seen crumbs of unsatisfying communication between them about what happened, and that sex scene in the cell was the last straw for me at this point. What do you mean Vi saw her suicidal sister sitting in that very same cell (starving and self-harming herself, may I add) and instead of running after her, she pounces on Cait?

“But the parallel to their first meeting back in s1!” I don’t care. That’s just fucked up to witness. In what world would Vi—who swears to care about her family—do that? We see her as this family-oriented person, who doesn’t give up on Jinx despite it all, and this was just so out of character in the name of fan service.

episode 9 — The Dirt Under Your Nails

Starting off strong, we see depressed and suicidal Jinx right off the bat. How did Ekko manage to get through to her? Well, it’s not like he would’ve stopped either way. He would’ve kept using his z-drive over and over again until he finally got it right.

What do we gain from that? Hopeful Jinx again, yippee! Wrong. She’s back for her sister, and it’s beautiful to witness. “I’m always with you. Even when we’re worlds apart.” Fighting with and for her, ready to die for her—we saw time and time again how Jinx was never the true jinx she believed she was. She managed to fix things with Vi—and even Ekko at this point—and managed to find and bring joy. That was the true ending both sisters deserved.

What do we get instead? Implying that Jinx sacrifices herself for Vi. Other than the pure rollercoaster of emotions they put Jinx through, making a suicidal character kill themselves (or even implying so) is just plain insensitive. What message does that send? As I said in a comment section, the writers aren’t blind, and they’re not dumb either. They know how many mentally ill fans Jinx herself has. As someone who struggles with bpd too, I related to her character in so many ways. More than I’m willing to share in this post, so that finale just left a bitter taste in my mouth. Speaking with other people who are struggling with their mental health helped me see that I wasn’t the only one affected by it. Quoting my friend: “We need to normalize considering the effects of the narrative on the fans.” And this isn’t to say that every suicidal character should magically get better, this isn’t how the real world works. But Jinx’s storyline had no reason to end on that note by that point. Forced and rushed.

Dead or runaway, leaving her with the “everybody’s better off without me” narrative was just the wrong way to go about it. Plain and simple. It was rubbing salt into the wound, spitting in the face of her development. They decided to end the show with an underdeveloped Caitvi “endgame” when they spent all this time developing Jinx’s arc. And all of this for what? Such a disappointing way to wrap things up, with literal crumbs as hints that maybe she’s still alive.

And the bitter cherry on top of Caitvi’s messy relationship this season, other than the complete lack of communication—Vi comparing herself to the dirt under Cait’s nails. What a cute (not really) way to remind us of their differences and Piltover’s stance on Zaun for the majority of the show—seen as nothing more than dirt. When Sevika joins the Council after the war, she’s still being looked down on. This just makes me sick.

BONUS: No mentions of Isha in Act III was pure evil (no, the paint on Jinx’s new outfit, the bunny ears on the balloon or even Isha’s doll were not enough. I wanted her death to be properly acknowledged. No, I don’t think it was too much to ask for). We got this beautiful found family arc between her, Jinx, and Sevika, only for it to be completely forgotten the moment Jinx reconciles with Vi.

BONUS 2: Jayce and Viktor were the perfect example of bromance. A friendship between two men can be gentle, affectionate, and loving without them being gay. No need for the ship, but I guess that’s the least of my worries.

BONUS 3: If anyone brings up the “beauty in imperfections” monologue to defend the ending, know that I’m not listening. They had such a beautiful show going for so long. Imperfections aren’t the problem here, it’s the plain disappointment.

EDIT BONUS 4: Singed out of all people getting a happy ending was so disrespectful. What a cockroach that man is. Nothing and no one can get rid of him.

Media literacy is important. Thanks for coming to my rant.

disclaimer: this isn’t me saying that the entire season was bad. But damn, do better.

[morgana-larkin]

hey another prompt; r is a teacher in Abbott for years now and has a specific styling of clothes. More of baggy loose clothes. As if her wardrobe are full off oversized pants and button up shirts and either a loafers or converse high lugged. And for some days, she dresses horribly, like more horribly than Janine and one time even managed to put on different shoes 🤦🏻‍♀️. Ava pokes fun of it and Barb and Janine even tried to help r out with dressing up, offering a shopping get together and sort but she declines says she's happy with what she wears and it's comfy. Mel joins teasing r once in a while tho and r just gonna roll her eyes playfully 'cause she's friends with her and knows that Mel was just a lil jealous that r can wear such comfy clothes tho it looks horrible. Then one day there will be like a school visit from.the district and Ava recquired all of the staff to wear formal or casual attire,ofc she makes fun of r again asking what horrible choices of clothes again is she gonna wear. Barb and Janine offered help and again she declines. Then the next day they're all in the staff room talking about it and when Mel is about to say something, r strode inside wearing nice clothes, even nicer than Ava and shocked to see she's wearing skirt and slaying the high heels without stuttering or wobbling. Mel, who's have her mouth agape and having a hard time taking her eyes off the teacher now became the new center of teasing as the teacher walks up to her and closed her mouth saying she might catch fly with a smirk on her face before leaving the break room to start her class.

Hello! This was cute and funny and I enjoyed writing this fic! I hope it turned out how you wanted. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I’m getting through your prompts. I got 8 left and one extra. I also started the next chapter of worth it and got a Marilyn one shot idea. I also got an idea for a Melissa one shot. So lots in store in the future! Btw I’ve noticed that there’s not as many people who reads the Chessy ones, even though it’s the same actress🤔

Speechless

Warnings: jealous Mel 😏, smut, fluff

Words: 3.4K

You walk into the break room with sweats and an oversized shirt on.

“Woah girl, I think you need a wardrobe change. You do realise it’s spring right?” Ava says as soon as you walk in and she sees your outfit.

You sit down at Melissa and Barb’s table and Melissa looks at you and smiles. “I have to agree with Ava, and I thought Janine’s outfits were bad, but yours are a whole other level.” She tells you and you roll your eyes.

“Heeyyy.” Janine complains when she heard what Melissa said and Melissa just smirks.

“Sweetheart, I was thinking that you, me and Janine can go to the thrift store and get some new clothes tomorrow morning.” Barb offers.

“Thanks, but I’m good. I like my clothes, might not be the most stylish but they’re comfortable.” You tell her.

“Girl, your clothes ain’t stylish at all. Like you got two patterns on, they don’t even match.” Ava says.

“Don’t you have some influencing to do? You know, anything besides your actual job?” You tell her and she leaves.

“Why do you have two different patterns on your outfit?” Melissa asks.

“First 2 things I grabbed.” You tell her with a shrug and she shakes her head at you. “You’re just jealous because I don’t care about what I look like and wear comfy clothes.” You tell her and she snorts.

“Hon, there’s comfy and there’s comfy disaster. Which category do you think you fall under?” She asks you and you huff.

“I still think you’re jealous.”

“Keep thinking that hon. Doesn’t make it any more true.” She says back to you. “By the way you realise you have 2 different shoes on right?” She asks you and you look at your feet.

“I do…now.” You tell her and she shakes her head and smiles.

On Monday you walk in with a similar outfit on and Melissa rolls her eyes at you when you sit down. Ava walks in not too long after.

“Listen up, dorks! Tomorrow the school district is coming over for a tour and I need everyone to look good. And I’m mostly talking to you, walking disaster.” She says and looks at you, you just roll your eyes. “Tomorrow can you at least wear something that matches.” She tells you.

“I’ll think about it.” You tell her and she leaves.

“Sweetheart, tonight Janine and I can go to a thrift store with you for an outfit for tomorrow.” Barb tells you and Janine nods her head.

“I’m good, I think I know what outfit to wear tomorrow.” You tell them and Barb looks at you sceptically.

“Are you sure?” She asks and you nod your head.

“Yep.”

“Can't wait to see your best mismatched outfit tomorrow.” Melissa teases you and you smile.

Tomorrow morning, everyone is in the break room. Melissa, Barb and Janine are discussing their outfits and then it lands on your outfit.

“What do you think she’s gonna wear today?” Janine asks as she’s getting coffee ready.

Barb shrugs, and when Melissa goes to speak, you waltz in and her eyes go wide and she freezes.

You walk in with heeled boots, black tights, a nice black skirt that ends mid thigh with a nice belt, and a blue blouse that you tucked into the skirt. Melissa’s eyes roam your entire body and you smile.

“Daammn girl. Where has all of this been for 2 years?” Ava says.

“Not needed.” You tell her and you see Melissa’s reaction. You walk over to go put your lunch box in the fridge and you stop at her. You put a hand out to her and place it under her chin, she looks up at you and grin. You then push her mouth closed. “You don’t want to catch flies.” You tease her and everyone hides a snicker. You put your lunchbox in the fridge and then you walk out to your classroom.

“What was that?” Janine asks as everyone stares at where you just were.

“Don’t know, but I approve.” Ava says.

“Even though she looked better than you?” Jacob says and Ava glares.

“Hey.” She tells him sternly. “She looks good today but not better than me, thank you very much.” Ava says, she flips her hair and then walks out.

Melissa is still stunned, she knew you were beautiful underneath all those baggy clothes, and you had a pretty face, but that shocked her. You were stunning and she doesn’t know how to react.

“Melissa?” Barb says and snaps her fingers at her and Melissa jumps and looks at her.

“What?!?” She asks and everyone snickers.

“You ok? Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” Barb says.

“Or she got a crush.” Jacob adds and Melissa whips her head around to him.

“I do not have a crush on her. Just didn’t expect her to look like that today.” She tells him and then turns back around.

Everyone drops it, knowing that Melissa won’t budge, but they don’t forget it.

At lunch, you’re in the break room getting your coffee ready when Melissa walks in. Normally you say hi to her but it seems a teacher is talking to you today. Melissa sees you and the teacher talking and when she gets closer she hears the conversation and realises the teacher is flirting with you. Most of the staff know you’re gay as you’re open about it, and it seems another gay teacher has taken an interest in you today. Melissa doesn’t like it to be honest. She liked it better when you didn’t catch anyone’s eye except hers. She sits down with a sigh and you glance around.

“Oh hi Melissa, didn’t hear you come in.” You tell her with a smile.

“Ya I can see that.” She tells you, a bit snippy and you look at her confused. You bring your attention back on the teacher and she continues whatever she was talking about with you. Melissa is sulking on her phone while glancing at you and the teacher talking, who moved from the coffee machine to the couch. Barb keeps glancing at Melissa, knowing she’s jealous of the teacher flirting with you.

Everyone else seems to be in conversation but that all comes to a halt when they hear the other teacher ask you out and they all spare a glance at Melissa. Melissa freezes and all colour drains from her face. Not wanting to hear your answer, she grabs her things and walks out.

You hear the teacher ask you out and you freeze, you hear the room go silent for some reason and then you see Melissa get up and leave. You look over at everyone else and they all seem to be given a worried look at where Melissa was just standing.

“I’m flattered but no, sorry.” You tell the teacher.

“Are you sure?” She asks again with a smile.

“Ya, I’m interested in someone else.” You tell her and then get up and you walk to Barb. “Is Melissa ok?” You ask her and she shrugs.

“I don’t know dear. Didn’t have time to ask her. Maybe you can go check on her.” She tells you and you nod your head then walk out of the break room.

“This is getting interesting.” Jacob says and everyone agrees.

“Did you see her rocking those heels though, and she didn’t even stumble once today.” Janine says and Jacob looks at her interested in the topic.

“I did ya. She looks good in them too.” He adds.

You walk down the hall to Melissa’s classroom and you knock them open her door. You peak in and catch the tail end of Melissa’s pout before she goes to a neutral face and looks at the door.

“Hey Melissa.” You say to her.

“Hey hon.” She says to you and forces a smile.

“Is it safe to come in?” You ask her and she nods. You open the door more and walk in and then close the door behind you. “Just wanted to check if you were ok. Saw you almost storming out and Barb didn’t know if you were ok either. She suggested I come to make sure you’re alright.” You tell her and she sighs.

Of course Barb told you to come talk to her. She’s been trying to get her to admit her feelings for you for a few months now.

“Ya I’m alright, thanks for asking.” She tells you and you don’t look convinced in the slightest.

“Wanna tell me that while looking at me?” You ask her while she taps a pen on her desk.

“Why should I do that?” She asks and then looks up at you.

“Because it would seem more convincing then the lame ass attempt you already did.” You tell her and she snorts. She makes no attempt at saying it to you though and that worries you a bit. Melissa has never been able to lie to you while looking at you so the fact that she’s not telling you she’s alright while looking at you, it worries you.

You go and grab one of the students chairs and bring it over to sit beside her desk.

“What’s wrong?” You ask her and she looks at you then looks at her pen in her hands.

“Nothing.” She says and you place a finger under her chin and get her to look at you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask her again and she can’t concentrate. All she focuses on is your hand under her chin and she gulps. “I know something is bothering you, so what is it?” You gently push.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She tells you while looking at you and you nod.

“Are you sure? Cause I’m a great listener.” You tell her with a smile and she smiles back at you.

“Ya I’m sure.” She tells you and you nod.

“Alright well if you change your mind then you know where to find me.” You tell her and you put the chair back and then leave.

As you exit her classroom you bump into a teacher and you apologise to them.

“Y/n? Wow, I almost didn’t recognise you. You look pretty!” The teacher says to you and you smile and thank them. Melissa sees the interaction and presses down on the desk with her pen and the tip of the pen almost breaks.

At the end of the day, you’re all helping your students get ready to leave. You’re zipping up a sweater for one of them and Melissa sees a parent checking you out as your cleavage is showing to them at that angle. You then stand up and tell the student that he’s ready to go. The mom of the student starts a conversation with you and she laughs at whatever you said. Melissa glares the entire time. When all of hers and your students leave, she walks over to you to where the mom is still in conversation with you and Melissa grabs your arm.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt but I need to borrow y/n.” She says and pulls you with her back to her classroom.

“Melissa, what’s going on?” You ask her as she closes the door and walks over to you. “Why did you pull me away from the conversation with the pa-” You don’t get to finish your sentence as her lips on yours interrupt you. She pulls back a couple seconds later and you stare at her with wide eyes.

“That’s what’s going on.” She tells you. “I’m attracted to you. I have been for a few months now. I wasn’t planning on acting on it but then you get all this attention today because of your outfit and I just can’t take it.” She tells you and you are just staring like she was this morning.

“You like me?” You tell her and she sighs.

“Ya hon, I do. That’s why I walked out when that teacher asked you out.” She tells you.

“Melissa, for the record, I turned her offer down.” You say and she looks at you.

“Why?” She asks and you roll your eyes at her.

“Because, it’s hard to show interest in someone when you’re interested in someone else.” You tell her and she looks confused.

“You’re interested in someone else?” She asks and you nod. “W-who?”

“You.” You tell her and her breathe hitches.

“Me?” She asks you and you nod.

“I tried flirting with you a few months ago but you didn’t seem to show any interest back so I stopped.” You tell her. She stares at you for a few seconds then leans forward and captures your lips on hers again. This time she doesn’t pull back and you kiss her back. She pulls your body more to hers and you gasp. Melissa takes the opportunity and slips her tongue in your mouth. You back up as Melissa is starting to push a lot and you end up getting pinned between her and her desk. She lifts you up to sit on her desk and she moves in between your legs. She trails down to your neck and sucks on a sensitive spot and you moan.

She sneaks her hands under you shirt and trails them up until they land on your bra. You aren’t stopping her so she takes that as permission to unclip your bra and again, you don’t stop her. She cups your breasts while still sucking on your neck and you buck your hips. She starts moving her hands in a circular motion and you hum. She then rubs both your nipples and you buck your hips and gasp. “Mel-Melissa, please.” You start to beg and she smirks.

“Begging already? I’ve barely touched you.” She teases and you whine. She takes pity on you and pulls your tights and underwear down and places her hand on your pussy. You moan and she kisses you to keep you quiet. She rubs a finger through your folds and smirks when she feels how wet you already are. “Oh baby, you’re already soaking and I barely touched you. What got you so turned on?” She asks and you can barely think right now. “If you answer then I’ll stick a finger in you.” She whispers next to your ear.

“You.” You stutter out.

“Me? But I barely touched you.” She says and you whine.

“Y-your shirt and y-your k-kisses.” You stutter out and she looks confused and looks down at her shirt. She sees it’s just a normal shirt that she’s worn before and then it clicks.

“Oh, were you staring at my chest today?” She teases you and you nod. “Hmm, good girl.” She tells you with a smirk. She kisses you and then as promised, sticks a finger in your entrance. You gasp into the kiss. She slides her finger in and out and feels your hands wandering on her shirt. She grabs one of your hands and guides it under her shirt and on her bra. Your other hand follows and then she unclips her bra and you slightly pull your hands back. She puts one of your hands on her breast and once again, your other hand follows. You start playing with her breasts and you both moan. She then places one of her legs on the other side of yours and she starts grinding on your thigh while fingering you.

She slides another finger in and you gasp. The one hand that’s not fingering you she places on your back and pushes you to her a bit more. She then suddenly pulls out and pulls away from your lips, you go to complain but then covers your mouth with her hand. You’re in shock but then you hear Barb knocking on her door and calling her name. You both quickly get dressed and then Melissa opens her door while you lean against her desk.

“Hey Barb what’s up?” She asks as casually as she can.

“Nothing just… oh hi y/n.” She says when she sees you and then notices a hickey on your neck that wasn’t there at lunch. She then really looks at Melissa and sees smudged lip gloss and puts 2 and 2 together.

“Hey Barb, I was just talking to Melissa.” You say and Barb smiles.

“Ya I bet. Might want to cover up your hickey and fix your lip gloss.” She says and then walks away. “Good night you two.” She yells and Melissa is blushing.

She turns back to you and walks towards you with a smirk. “Come on, I want to finish you in my car.” She says and grabs your hand and pulls you all the way to her car. She unlocks it and she pushes you into the backseat and climbs on top of you. She closes the door and then immediately takes your top off.

“Melissa what if someone sees.” You ask her and cover yourself with your arms.

“Relax, no other cars in the parking lot except ours.” She tells you and then grabs your hands and gets you to uncover yourself. She then unclips your bra and looks at you. “I knew you had a beautiful body underneath all those baggy clothes.” She says softly and you smile. “Such a shame you hide it, you should be showing it off.” She tells you and you blush.

“When I don’t cover it, then I get attention like I did today.” You tell her and she hums.

“That’s alright if you cover up, that means I don’t have to punch anyone. More for me.” She says and wraps her mouth around a nipple. You moan at her touch and tilt your head back. She goes to the other nipple and you buck your hips. She pulls back and then takes her shirt and bra off.

“Wow.” You say as you look at her. She grabs your chin.

“Speechless are we?” She teases and you nod. You then lean forward and take the nippe in your mouth and she gasps. She holds the sides of the front seats to stabilise herself as you pleasure her breasts with your amazing tongue and mouth. When you pull back she immediately pulls your skirt, tights and underwear down to your ankles. She spreads your legs a bit and looks at you bare before her and smiles. She then goes and rubs your clit and you buck your hips. She rubs it for a few seconds then trails down and sees you're very wet again. She then slides two fingers in immediately and you gasp. You try and spread your legs more but your tights and skirt are preventing you. Melissa sees your struggle and without pulling her fingers out or stopping, she takes your boots off then takes off your clothes. You then immediately spread your legs and Melissa is enjoying the view. She then takes her pants and underwear off then grinds your leg again. Melissa seems to be closer to an orgasm than you are and then she thinks that maybe you only come with clitoral stimulation, so she brings her thumb to your clit. You gasp and in no time you catch up to Melissa and you come a few seconds before she does.

You two stay as you are and catch your breath, she slowly pulls out of you. You look at Melissa and smile at her.

“See something you like hon?” She asks and you smile wider.

“Ya I do actually.” You tell her and you cup her cheek. “You.” You tell her and she smiles back at you.

She hums and leans in closer to you, her breasts pressed up against you and your breathing speeds up. “How about I take you to my place, I cook you dinner and then I don’t keep my hands to myself for the rest of the evening?” She asks and you smile at her.

“I like the sound of that.” And she smiles and winks at you.

You both get dressed and she does exactly what she suggested, although she had trouble keeping her hands to herself the entire time, not just after dinner.

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[ratcash-wasgud]

𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎𝙼𝚘𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝙼𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗!𝙼𝚒𝚣𝚞

Hey heyyyy. I know I'm not doing the shit I'm supposed to, but this has been on my mind for so long, and I CANNOT get it out.

Mizu hated her job. Working in a busy restaurant as a waitress is honestly exhausting, especially when someone is kind of masculine presenting. Sometimes she thinks that college isn't worth enough to suffer through this. Rude comments from middle aged customers about how she's not feminine enough, no tips from men since they usually think she's one of them until she speaks up, and little kids asking "are you a boy or a girl" are part of her daily rutine. But still, there is one good thing about her job. You.

She usually shares a shift with you, and you happen to be her polar opposite. You're cheery, optimistic and seem to be always shining. You're always there when she drops a plate, apologize in her place, and help her clean it up. You seem to be young too, almost her age. During some of the shared breaks, you told her you're four years older than her, and never managed to finish college. Why? You got pregnant.

You briefly told her about it once. You did really well on an exam, and went out to celebrate. You got really, reaaaaly drunk. Since there was this guy, who was paying for your drinks, you went all out. The next thing though was that you woke up in an unfamiliar apartment, naked. You did a test the moment you got home, and found out you were pregnant. You dropped out to get a full time job, to afford this baby, because you weren't able to get rid of it, and when your snob parents found out, they cut contact with you. Now you're still raising your two year old daughter, Charlie.

You're stronger than anyone Mizu ever met. When she learned that you're a mother, she suddenly understood why are you so motherly. Why are you so warm. You have practice in treating children, and even if Mizu doesn't know it, she is still one on the inside. And an angry one at that.

And with the though that you are a mother, she fell in love with you. Your gentleness, your kind nature, the way you unintentionally coo at her when she's grumpy...it all just made her crave your presence. You never gave her more than a hug though aside from those rare pets on her head her when she does something really well.

She knows she shouldn't think about stuff like this, and it's not even her place to even have the though, but...you were with a man once. You never talked about anything else that could give her a hint about any of your previous or ongoing romantic interests, and that frustrates her. Akemi always tells her when she meets a guy, or Taigen when he manages to hook up with a girl...even Ringo told her about this pretty girl at the local bakery he really likes visiting. So why not you? Do you not have anyone? Ever? You probably don't like raising your kid alone, so why don't you try dating? Or dating her, to be specific. But, to cut this short, as far as she knows, you're straight.

"Oh God, we're sorry." You give a customer an apologetic smile as you kneel down on the ground to pick up pieces of a cup Mizu had just dropped. "The next drink is on the house. Again, we're sorry."

Mizu crouches down beside you, and she starts collecting shards too in silence. When the both of retreat to the kitchen, Mizu stops your hand when you're about to add a drink to your own tab. "What are you doing?"

"I told them the next drink is on the house." You say, raising an eyebrow. Mizu feels your pulse as she holds your wrist.

"Yeah, so why are you writing it to your name? I dropped the cup." She says, her tone harsh and unfriendly as ever.

"Because you already had to pay for that rude man's stew the other night. I can't let your paycheck get reduced to a single penny." You give her a slight smile and a small chuckle. You're too good to her. She keeps messing up, and you're the one cleanig up her mess.

Still, Mizu takes the pen from you and writes the drink under her name. "Buy Charlie something on your way home instead. Tell her it's from the weird woman from work." She sighs.

It's worth it. Completely. The smile on your face after she does that is just too much for Mizu to handle. "Why don't you give her the treat yourself? The daycare is close to the bus top you usually wait at, so you could come with me to pick her up."

So, that's how she ended up here, holding Charlie's small little right hand as you hold the left while the little girl literally toddles, on your way to your apartment.

Mizu was never good with children. She found them annoying and useless. But she had to admit...Charlie was adorable. The little girl was really your kid. She had the same mannerisms, even if she was barely able to speak.

"Then, the bug...got on my face. And then, I was screaming. Mean bug." Charlie mumbles endlessly as they walk. You, on the other hand, seemed to be really invested in the story, as you smile oh so sweetly at Charlie, and nod along to the story.

After that, Mizu ended up at your place somehow. She didn't want the moment to stop, so she just...kept walking with the two of you. It was so comforting, she couldn't let it go.

She watched you coo at your child as you fed her, waited obedientlyin the living room when you gave her a bath, helped you pick up her toys, and even did the day's dishes.

But it has gotten late. She should go home now...home. She feels like she found home tho. She doesn't want to leave.

"Hey..." Mizu starts as she picks up her bag. "Thanks for...you know, introducing me to Charlie." She murmurs.

You chuckle at her. "She really likes you. She was even more chatty from usual."

...

"What about you?"

"Hm?"

"Do you like me?"

She slowly takes your hand. She can't stand this endless longing anymore. She wants to be by your side, to help you raise Charlie, to make your life just a little easier. She wants that more than anything.

"It's okay if you don't like me yet...I should earn your love." Mizu says, looking down at the ground.

"Mizu..." Your gaze softens, your fingers wrapping around hers.

"But I will earn it." She says, now determination filling her eyes. "I will show you how good I'd be for you. And for Charlie. So wait for me, until I can prove myself. But be ready for me."

And with that, she's out the door. Her steps are light and fast as she enjoy's the night breeze hit her face. She can't help but smile. She feels free.

She now, has something in her life...something to look forward to. She can't wait to be part of that family.

You look at the now closed door that she just walked through, and smile softly to yourself.

"What a child..." You whisper to yourself with a small chuckle.

[simpsdept]

A/n: I writers block bad. Like- i need to do requests but can't- also, no pictures cause its too many ppl. (i listened to we don't talk about Bruno while writing this)

Info: reader is gender neutral

Fighting headcannons with (some) the Hazbin girls!

Characters: Carmilla Carmine/Velvette/Charlie/Vaggie

Genre: angst/slight fluff

Carmilla Carmine: She isn't one to fight, she's not someone to lose her composer over something little or not worth fighting for. But, she will argue if it's about something really important that you guys can't agree on. For example, if she wants to keep the dead exorcist thing a secret and you don't. Then there would be a lot of arguing and fighting that night, or even in the morning the following day if it' really bad. She'll also fight about wanting to keep you or her daughters safe if something dangerous is happening and you’re not hearing her out. She doesn't want to hurt you, she wants to just keep you and her girls safe.

Velvette: You two usually have small squabbles or fights, not full on yelling and screaming fights. But when you do have a big fight like that. It usually lasts from as short as five minutes or as long as a few days. Of course, it doesn’t mean you fight every single minute of the day, it just means you two will be salty and bitchy towards each other and break out into random fight on those days. There has been many times you two have broke up, had hate sex, and got back together.

Charlie: Fights are extremely rare. She’s not one to yell or raise her voice. She would rather handle everything calmly and politely. I’d say the only times she’ll raise her voice or yell at you is when she’s REALLY stressed- like maybe after Heaven doesn’t listen. Adam just straight up disrespects her, or when her mother won’t show up. Then she’ll yell and raise her voice. It won’t be specifically towards you, like the problem isn’t caused by you, but she’ll get madder if you yell back, or she’ll get sad and give you space, it really depends on what you’re fighting about. She’ll also raise her voice at you if you put yourself in to much danger. But she’ll quickly turn soft and hug you. She always feels really bad after you two fight, even if it isn’t always her fault only. Expect a lot of apology gifts (and a song if you’re lucky).

Vaggie: She tries her best not to fight. She doesn’t like to, but she gets so stressed, overwhelmed, and mad and can’t help it. Let’s be honest, she seems like she has anger issues and a low self esteem. So she gets irritated often. She wouldn’t start a fight for no reason of course, she will have light arguments with you more often rather than big fights, and the arguments aren’t that harsh either. I feel like she’d only get into a large fight if you were to reckless, she’s just scared of losing you. She’d feel so bad after though, she’ll apologize and say everything she did wrong, then you’ll cuddle for the rest of the night.

A/n: I’m not sure if these are OOC…cause I haven’t been on here for a while and forgot how the characters act a little 😭😭. Anyways I’m trying to post again!

[sourslip]

I'm still reeling from that reveal/scene (like most of us, apparently) so bear with the chewing-on-glass scatterbrain but I think the surprise has actually made me appreciate Laura's RP choices even more

going into that scene set up my expectations for some comforting, maybe some discussion of what Laudna was going through post-party split, but overall I was expecting - at most - some cute and friendly intimacy reaffirming they are Very Good Friends

AND THEN ITS LAURA BAILEY WITH THE CHAIR!!!

"Can I kiss you?" felt like it came on so fast without any specific queues (like what we've seen in previous romances where one or both PCs will name their desires in conversation with someone else before acting on it) but it also made perfect sense in retrospect

ever since Laudna came back, Imogen has been sitting on something, always seeming to hold back some burning comments here and there. she was also insistent that Laudna would get to choose everything going forward, and part of that I think meant Laudna having the freedom to think on a response to any question of further intimacy without even a chance of Imogen overhearing. Laudna could have the freedom to wonder if she did want to get in touch with "that part of her mind", to think about how painful, scary, or awkward that might be after decades of being shut off to it.

Laudna has some pretty intense self-image and self-worth issues to work through, but she's also had 2 years of Imogen in her head able to pick up on her wants without having to ever voice them and, ultimately, without having to accept that she does have her own wants independent of the people around her. Laudna seems to have only just started to get in touch with her anger, and that kind of repressed emotion that comes out in the healing process is one of the less intentional ones! Girl hasn't felt safe enough to actually think about her wants, let alone try communicating them!

Imogen and Laudna reconnected after their time apart and discovered that they - as Marisha pointed out in 4SD - have grown into different people, and that resulted in the tension of the first moments in the scene where they kind of made quasi-small talk. They were figuring out how to connect with each other again but, rather than return to their old dynamics (that kept them stagnant), Imogen set them up to try exploring something new and maybe a little healthier with communication going forward.

I think Imogen has been working towards this for a while, and while the circlet was the last "thing" she needed to help force them to communicate better, having the time apart gave them an opportunity to try something new.

Imogen has held a lot back before because she's too tuned into other peoples thoughts, and Laudna held off exploring her own wants and desires for too many reasons - but she is starting to get more in touch with her self-interested emotions. So they've both been tip-toeing towards a change for a while, but change like that can sometimes be like getting into cold water; at a certain point you just have to commit and jump in the rest of the way.

So to me, not only was Imogen trying to give Laudna the freedom to make her decision without an audience (the talk about the circlet), but she also made the most of the new distance between them to push them both towards a change, one that challenged both of them to be more honest with themselves, each other, and about what they want from their relationship.

Laura Ultimate-Romancer Bailey everyone

[giveafike]

Hi can you write Ben Shelton x fem reader where reader is also a pro player and her and Ben are like close friends and team up to play mixed doubles in like the us open and it's kinda like friends to lovers and they being all flirty on court and eventually admit feelings to each other?

TLDR: STORY! Tennisplayer!fem reader x Ben Shelton friends to lovers. Sort of took them flirty on and off court. Tried to build it up. Mention of Bryan Shelton and Tommy Paul cameo, thanks for stopping by, kings.

Word count + info: 17.6k! SUPER LONG STORYTIME w dialogue! (over an hour's worth of reading, ouu you're well fed tonight)

Character Inspo: Just a sweet girl, like "girl-next-door" girl. Listened to "After the First Kiss" - Faye Webster writing this (cried on first listen, enjoy the link), if that helps you envision sweet, cute, pure vibes. No specifications are mentioned (except a general "shorter" height than Ben).

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW - no warnings - slight mention of cheating and gaslighting.

Azzie Notes ✚: Hi my sweet munchkins! I'm so sorry anon, this took so long to come out but life got busy + then tumblr had this unavailable for me when I queued to post which tbh was a miracle bc I was rlly unsure while writing this, and I took my own time to reread and rework it, but idk guess I have writer's block, sorta? It doesn't feel like my best work... be brutally honest w me in ur feedback when u finish reading.

And then also there's a part that was just v vulnerable for me to write, but I couldn't really imagine the scene playing out any differently. Essentially, Y/N's dialogue about her ex - that's my lived experience...erm, so I was just tinkering of ways to rewrite it but I just couldn't think of anything else to fill it with.

Anywho, boy do I have a lotta requests coming up! Be patients w me pls! Also anon, "d" you are a genius, I'm so excited to write ur prompt hehehehe, but sorry if it takes some time :(. I got a Holiday surprise coming up, I'll lyk by the end of the month what that is, but OOOH, SFW Shelton nation, prepare urselves! How are we doing otherwise? Let me know! Are you taking good care of your health in these cold months + wrapping up? Make sure to get your vitamins in! Also, is my tumblr ugly? Should I make a colour theme and redo my masterlist properly? Help?

————————————————————————

Beyond the Baseline - B.T.S

The relationship between you and Ben Shelton was like watching day and night play tennis. Seriously, how could you be friends? What did you even have in common? What would you even talk about?

You, polished, textbook perfect, poised. A steady player who never lets emotions show on the court. Confident but never loud about it. After a win, you’d offer a graceful nod to the crowd, maybe a modest fist pump, but never more. Your game was a masterclass in precision in every shot calculated, every movement on and off court methodical. Fans admired how you dismantled opponents with strategy and patience, and your flawless form made it look effortless. Off the court, you were polite and kindred, smiling, making everyone feel at ease without even trying.

You were the embodiment of calm, pristine tennis. If anyone wanted an example of “playing by the book,” they’d point to you.

And then there was Ben Shelton.

Ben, who was your complete opposite. Loud, unpredictable, made waves and was unapologetic, and yet, utterly captivating. His game thrived on power and chaos, booming serves, fast sprinting bursts across the court, and reckless dives to the net, every point celebrated with fist pumps and wild energy. He lived for those moments that made crowds roar, he basked and riled the stands. When you calmly shake hands with your opponents, Ben chats effortlessly at the net, teasing, joking, and slapping his opponent’s back with that infectious grin. Impossible to dislike, even when he was cocky. Off the court, he was just as loud, just as alive when socialising. If you were a quiet, steady river with your course set, Ben was a wildfire, impossible to contain or predict.

Yet, somehow, despite your differences, you clicked.

It all started that first year on tour at a crossover event where the tours shared a venue. After a long day of matches, you found yourself in the players' lounge, neatly perched in a plush chair, legs crossed, posture upright and as perfect as ever. You still had that composed, in-control air about you, ready to handle anything gracefully.

Then, in strolled Ben Shelton.

He collapsed into the chair across from you, manspreading like it was his personal throne, slouching so far down it was a wonder he didn’t slide onto the floor.

He glanced at you with a lazy grin, his curls messy and unruly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Y'always sit like you’re posing for the cover of Tennis Monthly?” he asked, amusement laced with that accent of his, no intention of introductions or small talk.

You blinked, taken aback for a few seconds. “I-...what?”

“Yeah,” he continued, sitting up a bit as he waved a hand at your upright posture. “We’re off the court. Y'know, you can relax, right?”

You stared, completely thrown off by his audacity. Who starts a conversation like that? And how do you even reply to that? You didn’t even know him well, yet here he was already challenging you. Your lips broke into an awkward, tight line as your mouth was still agape, trying to find words to respond - not that you needed to, it seemed like Ben had more to tease you about, clearly enjoying your confusion with a wider, gummy smile.

“Don’t tell me you play tennis like this too, all tight 'n rigid. That's so boring.”

It took a moment, but when you finally brought your eyes up to his, you burst out laughing. His nerve! “You did not just say that,” you managed between giggles, shaking your head in disbelief. “My tennis form? Really? You want to talk about form and play?”

He shrugged, not even a little apologetic, enjoying the riffing as his feet rested against the coffee table filling the gap between you two. “Just sayin' loosen up. This isn’t a press conference. I mean, d'you even know how to slouch?”

You shot him a playful, mock-serious look, tucking a strand behind your ear as you leaned forward, your arms resting on your folded legs. “I can slouch.”

His eyebrows shot up in mock surprise, folding his arms over his chest. “Oh yeah? Prove it.”

You paused, narrowing your eyes at him in a challenge. Slowly, way more dramatically than necessary, you leaned back in your chair, gently scooting down an inch on the chair, still keeping your legs crossed but allowing just enough of a slouch to break your normally perfect posture. You looked more uncomfortable than anything, your back now curved, while every other inch of your body remained proper.

Ben snorted, shaking his head, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Wowwww,” he said, barely holding back a laugh. “Look at you. A real rebel huh?”

You rolled your eyes, bringing yourself back up to sit properly, but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “I’m not trying to impress you, you know.”

“Oh?” he cocked his head to the side like a puppy, his grin turning into something softer. “Too late. You already have.”

Your heart skipped a beat, his words catching you completely off guard. There was something about the way he said it, teasing, but with an undertone that made butterflies dance in your stomach and your skin buzz. You found yourself opening your mouth to respond, but just like the other attempts, nothing came out. You just stared at him, feeling completely disarmed by his effortless charm. He didn’t push, just grinned and waited, like he was used to leaving people speechless.

How much confidence could a guy have, and how could he play it off so casually that you don't even mind it?

And in that moment, there was no awkward silence, no need for formalities. Just easy, unexpected banter that flowed naturally and lingered in your mind for longer than you'd like to admit. It wasn’t what you’d expected from someone like Ben, but somehow, it felt right. He opened a side of you within a few conversations, a side that took years of coaxing from some of your closest friends. You couldn't even explain it, for everything you both were and were not, somehow ying and yang, a mountain and a streaming river, you were opposites and yet fit together like a landscape. He’d broken through your perfectly composed exterior, making you laugh and talk without even trying, and for some reason, you didn’t mind at all.

And now here you are, present day, strolling through an Australian mall at midday, looking the ever-polar opposites.

You strode in your knitted cardigan top and straight-leg pants while Ben towered over in a casual t-shirt and his signature stupidly short black shorts. Your arm was casually linked with Ben’s, your steps in sync like this was second nature. It wasn’t unusual for you two to walk like this; in fact, it would be strange if you didn’t. Over time as you both got to know each other, it had started as a joke but became a habit, something along the lines of Ben not wanting you to get "swept away by the crowds". You shared this easy closeness, the kind that people would easily mistake for a couple, but it was just the way you were.

Or at least, that’s what you told yourselves.

“Hey,” Ben’s voice interrupted your thoughts. You blinked, realising he was watching you, that knowing grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. His finger was pointing at a poster right beside a warm small shop.

“Didn’t you mention that necklace before on call a while ago? Wanna go in and have a look?”

You shook your head, brushing it off. “Oh, no, I was just-”

Before you could finish, he was already steering you toward the small store, his hand warm on your shoulder. “C’mon, just looking, right? Besides, you need to get somethin' while we're here. Not like you can't afford it.” He flashed you a wink that made your stomach flip.

The two of you stepped into the warm-lit shop, drawing a few amused glances from the few other customers and the shop assistant. It only really occurred just odd you two looked, Ben in his usual casual attire, slouched with his hands in his pockets, striding while examining the glass displays and you, neat and polished, hands folded and shy.

Ben leaned close, glancing over the cases as if he actually knew what he was looking at. “So you’re gonna match with me and get one of those silver chains, right?” He tugged at his thick metal chain with a smirk, raising an eyebrow at you.

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile. “Yeah, Ben, because that would look so ‘me,’ right?”

He snorted. “What, scared of a little edge? Imagine the next headline: ‘Good Girl Gone Bad’ ”

“Or,” you retorted, arching a brow, “it could just read ‘WTA Pro Loses It With a Clear Cry for Help.’”

He chuckled, his laugh low and genuinely amused. But then his expression softened as he caught sight of the delicate rose-gold necklace you’d been admiring. “Alright, alright. Let’s see the one you’re actually into.”

You glanced at him, surprised he remembered the specific piece. And the next thing you knew, he had the case brought out by the sales assistant. The delicate rose gold chain necklace with its beautifully intricate pendant sat in front of you. It wasn't long before the cool metal met your fingers as you gently hauled it out from its bed and into your hands, your breath hitching as you studied it dozens of times, trying to engrave it into your memory. Before you could think twice, you broke your trance and handed it to him.

“Help me put it on?”

Ben’s brows shot up, but he didn’t hesitate. “Turning this into a whole trust exercise, huh?”

“Shut up,” you muttered, turning around and sweeping your hair aside.

“Turn around,” he said, his voice quiet with a flutter of nervousness.

Obediently, you turned, holding your hair up and out of the way, feeling his hands slip around to clasp the necklace at the back of your neck. His fingers brushed your skin, surprisingly gently, and suddenly it was hard to focus on anything else but the feel of his hands there. His fingers trembled ever so slightly, his large digits fiddling with the small dainty clasp. You couldn't help but feel hyper-aware of his touch as you let out a small gasp, only for you to hear; the way he just barely grazed your neck for fleeting milliseconds, how his breath was ghosting over your ear in steady, focused breaths, how his tongue stuck out ever so slightly as he focused, his eyes honed in on getting this one thing right just for you - it was far too much.

You swallowed, realising this was the first time he’d ever been this close in this way, this… tender. A part of you wanted to step forward, break the tension, take the necklace and put it on yourself, the burning, buzzing sensation being oh so overwhelming to the point where it felt you might evaporate on this spot, right here right now. But realistically even if you really wanted to, you couldn't force or make yourself move, the feeling was like a drug, coursing through you and this was your euphoria, your high, something you hadn't felt in a long time, or maybe ever and you had no intention of cutting it short.

You gently bring your gaze up from your shoes, to the mirror and stare at him, running your eyes over his face. It's just a necklace, he's just helping you, c'mon get it together!

“There,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, and you felt the clasp fall onto your skin. But he didn’t step back right away. His fingers trailed down, skimming the nape of your neck, and for a second you thought - no, you knew - he was about to say something else, he took a sharp intake but then hesitated and remained in his silence. You look up in the mirror, seeing him still staring at your neck, and your hair, slowly meeting your eyes in the mirror before he realises he's been caught. He stepped back, his familiar grin slipping back into place, and the moment passed like a puff of smoke.

“How does it look?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, breaking free from the dizzy haze you've created in your head.

“Looks good,” he said lightly, and you hated the way your heart twisted at the easy casualness of his tone. He flashed you that infuriating smile, the one that made you both want to slap him and pull him closer at the same time.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice tight, almost irritated that you felt this intense pull that didn't seem to affect him nearly as much as it affected you. “Thanks.”

Your hand delicately took the pendant between your fingers, toying with it as you both stared at each other in the mirror entranced for a few moments, something shifting. You turned back to the display, focusing hard on the jewellery cases even though you could still feel the phantom warmth of his hands on your skin. You forced yourself to breathe evenly, to ignore the way your heart was racing, to pretend like everything was fine.

But as you looked at your reflection in the store’s mirror, the delicate gold resting against your collarbone, you couldn’t help but wonder if he knew, if he could feel it, too. The slow, insidious shift between you, the way everything had started to mean something when it was supposed to mean nothing at all. It wasn't the first time that Ben had done or said something that froze you, but it seems as though every encounter grows in its intensity, and worse, builds more confusion and haze inside of you.

“Guess that means you’re getting it, right?”

You gave him a shy smile breaking from your thoughts, turning around on your heel, still feeling the heat lingering on your neck. “I… think I might.”

As you admired the necklace in your hands, Ben flashed you a grin and excused himself, slipping off towards the main counter. You assumed he was just idly browsing or looking for something to keep him occupied while you made your decision. But when you turned to check on him, you saw him whispering something to the cashier, glancing over at you with a suspiciously wide grin.

You squinted, realising too late what he was up to. Just as you started toward him, the assistant who’d been helping you gently tapped your shoulder.

“Miss?” she said, her voice sweet but carefully practised. “We actually just got a similar collection of rose-gold necklaces in. You might want to take a look.”

You shot her a polite smile, still watching Ben out of the corner of your eye. “Oh, I think I’ve found the one-”

But Ben was already flashing his card to the cashier, sending you a playful wink and sticking his tongue out between his smile, before your assistant intercepted you again with a dazzling necklace display. By the time you returned to the counter, Ben was leaning casually, arms crossed, the structured paper bag already in his hand.

“Ben!” you hissed, reaching for it.

He laughed, holding it just out of your reach as he leaned in, his grin bordering on smug. “You don’t remember mentionin’ it twice, right?” he drawled, dripping with his usual playful tone, the same one that had you engaged from the day you first met. “Couldn’t risk lettin’ ya walk away from somethin’ you actually like.”

You smacked his arm lightly, only making him laugh more as he ducked away, looping his arm casually around your waist to draw you into a side hug. The warmth of his touch lingered, his hand resting comfortably at your hip. It was the sort of touch that should’ve felt natural by now, but somehow, it left you flustered. He was supposed to be the loud, obnoxious friend who made everyone laugh. So why did it feel like every touch, every sideways glance in your direction, especially today, held a weight that left you breathless? You hated that it was him, the one person you thought you’d never lose your cool around, who could make your composure slip so effortlessly.

“Don’t go gettin’ all mad,” he said, that easy grin still in place, his accent softening in a way that had your stomach fluttering. “It’s just a little token of your winnin's.”

You mumbled something about unfair tactics, even as your hand settled into his. He finally laughed, still holding your bag and chuckling as he looked around the mall. His gaze landed on a clothing shop just ahead, and his face lit up.

“Alright, you got your shiny new necklace. Now you’re helpin’ me pick out a hoodie,” he said, giving you a grin that could only be described as downright cocky. “Let’s see if I can look half as put together as you.”

“Fine,” you replied, barely suppressing a smile, “but don't expect me to return the payment favour, that's on you.”

Ben just laughed, letting you walk in first before he strolled in behind you. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Once inside, Ben beelined for the hoodies, pulling out everything he could get his hands on without checking the tags or sizes. He held up a dark blue one with a shrug, grinning as he tossed it in your direction. “This one’s a classic, right? Nice and oversized?”

“Ben,” you said, giving him an exasperated look as you held the fabric up, it's nowhere near his size, way too small. “This wouldn’t even fit you like a sleeve. This would be a corset for you. Besides, since when do you need an oversized anything?”

He chuckled, looking down at his broad shoulders and long frame. “Point taken. Let’s see, you’re gonna have to help me find somethin’… refined. Like me.”

You rolled your eyes, but reached for a khaki cream-coloured hoodie, holding it up in front of him. “This one’s got ‘actually dressed himself’ written all over it.”

Ben took it from you and pulled it over his head without bothering to even look for the changing rooms, letting it settle over his broad shoulders and across his arms, the fabric fitting perfectly. He adjusted the sleeves, smoothing out a crease as he caught your eye with a playful smirk.

“So, how do I look? All cleaned up, or just half?”

You stepped closer, straightening the hood and smoothing the fabric across his chest and shoulders. “Not bad,” you said, nodding approvingly. “Maybe the best-dressed you’ve ever been for casual attire.”

Ben cleared his throat, a small blush creeping up his neck before he made a funny face at you and pushed your face away with his palm, making you laugh. You reached up and tugged the hood down over his face in response. “Stop it! Do you ever act normal?”

From underneath the hood, his face was hidden but the smile in his tone gave him away. “Normal? C’mon, that doesn’t sound like me at all.”

He yanked the hood off, reaching for another hoodie, examining a grey one this time. He pulled the cream hoodie up over his head, and just as he tugged it up, you realised his T-shirt was trying to come with it. Without thinking, you reached over and tugged his shirt back down, cheeks warming as he slipped into the hoodie with a cheeky grin.

“Good save,” he said, finally adjusting the fit with a little salute. “Now I really gotta make you my official stylist.”

“Oh, if it means I get to stop you from embarrassing yourself in public, I’ll do it,” you replied with a grin.

Ben just rolled his eyes sassily as he watched you inspect the look as he pulled the grey one on. “Don’t go givin’ me too many compliments now. Might go straight to my head.”

You laughed, giving his chest a final pat. “I’d say we’ve got it just right.”

After a long day of shopping and conversing together, the last thing you needed was more conversation, you couldn't wait to take yourself to your hotel room and sink in everything that had happened and everything that had been felt. As you took your small bags from Ben's hands you stood in the elevator, engrossed in the gossip Ben was subjecting you to, something to do with car dealers. Somewhere along the way, Ben had even pressed the button to your floor himself.

By the time you unlocked your door, it was almost automatic; you turned to face him, assuming he’d say goodbye and let you get some rest. But he strolled right in, still mid-sentence, as if he had every right to be there. You stood in the doorframe, breaking your smile and shaking your head, mouth agape as you realised what just happened.

“Ben... did you just follow me into my hotel room?” you asked, crossing your arms as you watched him plop down on your bed like he owned the place.

“Pfft,” he scoffed, “don’t flatter yourself. You ain’t got nothin’ in here worth followin’ you for - ‘cept maybe more of that wild fashion sense you got.” He shot you a teasing grin, his eyes flicking over to the small shopping bags you’d set down on the dresser.

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, so now you’re a fashion critic too? I didn’t hear you complaining when I helped you pick out those hoodies.”

He laughed, that easy, familiar sound filling the room, and leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. But I still think you coulda gone a little crazier. All that walking around and y' bought tiny, little things like that necklace. Real tame, you know?”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the urge to smile. “It’s called being tasteful, Ben. Not everyone can rock 'big and bold' like you.”

He gave you a mock-offended look, his drawl growing thicker. “Well, we can’t all be boring, now can we, darlin'?”

You felt a flicker of something under his words - the teasing words hung in the air longer than you expected, and you felt a jolt of something, nothing you could name, but enough to make you look away first, pretending to busy yourself with the bags again as you cleared your throat.

“Right,” you said, voice light, “because you’re the definition of exciting. The guy who almost bought a novelty koala mug for fifty bucks.”

“Hey, c'mon now, that mug was a steal,” he shot back, eyes glinting with amusement. “And besides, who’s gonna stop me? You?”

You giggled softly, flopping down beside him on your stomach, your elbow brushing the bedspread as you kept a careful inch of space between you. The gap between you felt electric, buzzing with that familiar charge you both pretended not to notice. “I already did, remember? I’ve saved you so many times from a lifetime of tacky souvenirs. You’d be drowning in cheap tourist mugs if it weren’t for me.”

Ben’s face softened, his smirk fading into something almost thoughtful as he rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand. “Guess I owe you, then,” he said quietly, his tone lower, like he was sharing a secret.

The room seemed to hold its breath, and you swore the sunlight dimmed just a little, softening the angles of his face. For a heartbeat, you thought he was going to say something more, something that would change everything between you. You caught the scent of his cologne, warm and fresh with a hint of spice, and your eyes flickered down to his lips, wondering if he’d noticed the way you’d frozen like a deer in headlights, caught between teasing and leaning in, unsure if you were daring him or daring yourself.

His gaze dropped, almost imperceptibly, to where your fingers played with the loose thread on the edge of the bedspread, and it was like he saw right through you. The air crackled, the tension stretching out like a taut string, ready to snap making you feel all sorts of woozy. You knew if you moved, if you even breathed too deeply, it would shatter whatever fragile moment this was. He was watching you so closely, noticing everything, the angle of your face, the way your hair fell, the way your breath caught just a little too fast, the tiny smile you couldn’t quite hide.

And then he grinned as he caught your smile; a lazy, crooked grin that made your heart skip. The vulnerability in his eyes flickered and was gone, hidden behind that familiar playful charm. It was safer that way, easier to laugh it off than to admit there might be something real between you.

You nudged him gently with your shoulder, letting out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding, aching from the sincere moment but almost glad it passed. Almost.

“You definitely do,” you said, your voice deliberately light.

Ben chuckled, a warm, rumbling sound that made you feel both safe and entirely off-balance. “Deal, you got it. How about some snacks? But, if I’m buyin’, you can’t go pullin’ that health-nut stuff on me. It’s gotta be a proper snack run, none of your boring, practical choices.”

“Oh, I’m so there,” you replied, half laughing, half trying to mask the flush that was still heating your cheeks. “Just don’t get all whiny if I veto your terrible taste.”

He sat up, giving you a mockingly serious look, his expression exaggeratedly grave. “Whiny? I don’t whine. I’m just... persuasive.”

“Sure you are,” you teased, feeling the tension still lingering about in the air.

You reached out to push his shoulder playfully, but he was faster. His hand caught yours, fingers curling around yours in a way that sent a spark racing up your arm. For a second, everything went still, the noise from the street outside faded, and the weight of the bed shifted beneath you, but all you could feel was the heat of his palm against yours.

It was Ben who let go first, his eyes gleaming with that familiar mischievous spark. “9, don’t be late,” he said, pushing himself off the bed with a careless grin.

You watched him head for the door, your pulse still racing in your chest. “I’m never late,” you shot back, trying to sound unaffected despite the way your voice wavered, light and teasing.

He paused in the doorway, throwing a look over his shoulder, his eyes softer than usual, almost expectant. “We’ll see about that,” he said with a wink before disappearing into the hallway, leaving you staring at the closed door, still lying on the bed, with a strange, buzzing feeling beneath your skin. You couldn't help but feel the heat rise to your face, your hand on fire from the interaction as you stared around, dumbfounded from the passing moments.

Later that night, you headed to the hotel lobby, the low hum of late-night travellers and the clinking of glass doors filling the space. You spotted Ben before he saw you, leaning casually against a column in a purple hoodie, scrolling through his phone with a barely-there smile tugging at his lips.

He looked up the second the elevator doors opened, and whatever he’d been expecting, it wasn’t you in a simple top with the sleeves pushed up and cargo pants, like you were trying too hard to look like you weren’t trying at all.

His eyebrows lifted, a grin spreading slow and wide. “That’s what you’re wearin’?” he said, not even bothering to hide his amusement.

You scoffed, furrowing your brows, shoving your hands in your pockets before muttering, “Yeah... what’s wrong with it?”

He rolled his eyes, but you caught the way they softened, something playful and gentle mingling with the mischief. Without saying a word, he dug into his bag and pulled out a well-worn hoodie, its cuffs fraying slightly and the colour slightly faded from too many washes. “Here,” he said, thrusting it at you. “You’re not goin’ anywhere with me like that.”

You gave him a long, unamused stare. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” he shot back, voice dropping lower, teasing. “Don’t make me beg.”

You snatched the hoodie from him with a huff, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the fabric as you slipped it over your head. It was massive, swallowing you whole, the sleeves dangling well past your hands. You tugged at the cuffs, rolling them up clumsily and folding the bottom into your waistband so it didn't completely swallow you up as Ben watched with a satisfied smirk.

“Better,” he declared, like he’d personally fixed a crisis.

“Happy now?” you asked, your voice sharper than you’d intended, but you couldn’t help the way your heart picked up speed when he looked at you like that like you were more than just some friend he dragged along on a whim.

He just grinned and nodded. “Let’s go.”

The grocery store was nearly empty, the white-lit aisles stretching out like pathways to nowhere. The two of you wandered slowly at first, examining small differences side by side, until you found yourselves in the snack aisle, surrounded by walls of bright, neon packaging. Ben was in his element, zeroing in on the loudest, most ridiculous options like a kid in a candy store.

He plucked a bag of neon-orange chips from the shelf, shaking it lightly. “Alright,” he said, his tone suddenly all business, “What’s your stance on cheese puffs?”

You glanced at the bag and back at him, raising an eyebrow. “That’s not food, that’s...radioactive material. Nothing should be that orange.”

He gasped mouth agape before forming a pout, side-eyeing you. “Loud and wrong, but okay...”

You snatched the bag from his hand, tossing it into the cart anyway. “Fine. But we’re getting something that won’t kill us on the spot too.”

“Oh, here we go,” he groaned, watching as you added a box of granola bars to the mix with a self-satisfied smile. He shook his head, grabbing the cart handle and steering it down the aisle with a flourish.

“You’re no fun.”

“Somebody has to be the adult,” you said lightly, your shoulder brushing his as you walked.

The cart squeaked slightly as you rounded the corner, stopping to examine a box and before you knew it, Ben had snuck up behind you, his hands on your waist, lifting you off the floor in one swift movement. You barely had time to react before he dropped you, albeit with a slightly abrupt drop, laughing into the cart like it was the most natural thing in the world. You gasped, grabbing at the edges of the cart to steady yourself as he pushed forward, his laughter echoing off the empty shelves.

“Ben, what are you doing?” you demanded, half-exasperated, half-laughing as the cart picked up speed.

“Shoppin’!” he said nonchalantly, his voice lilting with barely suppressed giggles. “What’s it look like?”

You tried to glare at him, but the sound of his laughter, the way he moved so easily beside you, pulling you into his orbit, made it impossible to be mad. He flipped the hood over your face without warning, almost like payback from your antics earlier and you yelped, fumbling to throw it off your face as he made a dramatic show of spinning the cart around in circles in a wide arc, as if he were doing doughnuts in his car, laughing as you swayed and clung to the sides.

“Ben, you’re insane!” you shouted, but it came out more like a giggle, and you knew he’d hear it for what it was; a thrill you couldn’t quite hide.

“Yeah, but you love it!” he shot back, slowing the cart and landing it to face him, just enough to meet your eyes, the world narrowing down to the space between you. His smile was softer now, more intimate like he’d forgotten you were in a brightly lit grocery store at all.

For a second, you forgot too. Forgot about the shelves stacked high with candy and cereal, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead as your world came back from spinning and went straight into those puppy-dog brown eyes that always invited you so warmly. It was just him, and the warmth in him, the way he was looking at you like he could see straight through all the walls you’d built up.

Then he blinked, breaking the moment, and you cleared your throat, holding your sides tighter like it was armour. “C’mon,” you said, your voice a little too casual. “We still need to get some popcorn.”

His smirk returned a flash of teeth and mischief. “Only if I get to pick.”

“Fine,” you said, hopping out of the cart in a not-so-gracious way, almost tripping and falling over before you found your feet, while he squeezed his eyes shut and stifled a laugh. You ignored him and nudged him aside as you led the way, leaving him and the cart behind. “We’re not getting any of that sugar-loaded nonsense.”

“Deal,” he said easily, falling back into step beside you, close enough that his arm brushed yours with every step as he leaned onto the shopping cart's handle. It was comfortable, this back-and-forth, like a dance you’d both practised without realising.

The rest of the trip was a blur of bright colours and easy laughter, you vetoing his most ridiculous choices and him sneaking them into the cart when he thought you weren’t looking. There was something electric in the air, a charge that made you feel light and breathless. Every time your eyes met, it was like the world shrunk just a little more, leaving just the two of you standing there, suspended in a moment that neither of you wanted to end.

By the time you left, the night air was cool and crisp, and the city lights blurred into a haze of gold and blue. You carried your small, modest box of granola bars easily while Ben lugged a full backpack and a crinkling, overstuffed plastic bag of brightly coloured chaos, bumping your shoulder with his as you walked.

“Y’know,” he began, adding a lazy warmth to the night air, “if you think for one second that’s the last time I’m gonna put you in a cart, you’re wrong.”

You huffed out a small laugh, shaking your head. “Oh yeah? You're planning on carrying me around as part of your personal grocery haul from now on?”

He shot you a playful grin, his smile wide and easy. “Might just make it a habit. You fit in there pretty nice.”

Rolling your eyes, you bumped his arm with yours, but the warmth lingered longer than you expected. “You’re a menace, you know that?”

“Hey, I don't hear nobody complainin’ ‘bout bein’ chauffeured around,” he shot back, his eyes glimmering in the low streetlights. “And don’t pretend you didn’t love it. Saw you smilin’ the whole way.”

You tried to hide your grin, biting down on your lip. “I was not smiling.”

“Sure you weren’t,” he said, his voice dipping into a teasing drawl, and you knew he saw right through you. He always did, with that irritating, endearing way of his.

He kept walking, and you fell into an easy stride beside him, the silence that stretched out feeling warm, and comfortable, the kind that made you feel like you didn’t need to fill it with words.

As you cross the street, your fingers accidentally brush his for a split second, and you both tense up, the smallest contact sparking between you like static. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he shot you a quick, almost shy smile before looking up at the half-lit sky.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said suddenly as if the thought had just hit him. “There’s this café I saw online, right? Said they’ve got the best breakfast sandwiches in Australia. And it's like, a 15-minute walk from the hotel.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Yeah? And what, you’re planning to drag me out of bed before dawn just to try a sandwich?”

“Exactly! You read my mind!” he yelped excitedly without missing a beat, clearly not hearing your sarcasm. “We’ll beat the crowd! No lines, best seat in the house. Plus,” he added with a wink, “you look like you could use a proper breakfast after that grocery store workout.”

You gave him a sceptical look, though a smile tugged at your lips. “Fine. But if it’s some overhyped, greasy thing, you owe me.”

“I’ll take that bet,” he said, flashing that confident grin that made it impossible to say no. The walk back to the hotel was quieter, the playful back-and-forth giving way to a comfortable, unspoken understanding that neither of you wanted to break. After many attempts at trying to close the door on Ben only to be interrupted by "Wait, one last thing before I go"'s and many, many awful jokes, you finally found yourself drained as you collapsed onto your bed. You quickly set a reminder for his ridiculous plan, and a dreadful 5am alarm was made, leaving you with not nearly enough time to rest after the day's antics.

The alarm dragged you out of a deep sleep way too soon, feeling like you had just fallen into slumber. You groaned, fumbling to silence it, barely managing to swing your legs over the side of the bed before realising you were still wrapped in Ben’s hoodie, the fabric heavy and warm, smelling of cologne and well, him. Blinking blearily, you forced yourself to move, your mind foggy with sleep, the hotel room still wrapped in low shadow. The chill of the early hour made you pull the hoodie tighter around yourself, the soft material a comfort against the cold.

When you finally stumbled downstairs to the lobby, he was already there, leaning casually against the doorframe, one hand shoved into his pocket, the other holding a steaming ceramic cup of coffee. He looked up at the sound of your footsteps, and you noticed the way his eyes went wide for a second before he quickly masked it with a crooked smile. His hair was messy, and he looked like he hadn’t been awake for long, but the sight of him made your chest feel oddly light. You were still half-asleep, your hair barely brushed, eyes slightly open, and wearing his hoodie like it was a shield against the early morning chill.

"Hey, sleepyhead," he said, his voice rough and deep with sleep, the sound of it washing over you like a warm wave. There was a hitch in his tone, something unsteady and unguarded, and it made your stomach flutter in a way you couldn’t quite explain. "You look... cozy."

You tried to rub the sleep from your eyes, barely registering his words. “What?” you mumbled, blinking up at him.

The lights in the lobby were harsh, making you squint, and you fumbled with the hood, pushing it back slightly. Your fingers felt clumsy, too heavy, and you knew you looked a mess. No makeup, hair lazily brushed, the sleeves of his hoodie falling over your hands like a second blanket.

His gaze lingered, and he cleared his throat, glancing away quickly like he’d seen something he shouldn’t. “I, uh... you’re wearin’ my hoodie,” he said, a slow smile tugging at his lips despite the awkwardness in his voice.

“Didn’t think you’d be, y’know, sleepin’ in it.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you shrugged, still too groggy to care much. “It’s comfortable,” you muttered, your voice muffled with sleep. “I just… forgot to take it off.”

He was quiet for a beat too long like he was turning your words over in his mind, and you noticed the way he was looking at you, really looking, like he was seeing something he hadn’t expected. You wanted to say something, to break the strange heaviness of the moment, but your brain felt slow and thick with exhaustion, and all you could do was yawn and shift your weight from one foot to the other.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice softer, a bit hesitant, like he wasn’t sure if he should keep pushing. His eyes were bright despite the early hour, lingering on the way his hoodie hung loose on your frame, the oversized fabric almost swallowing you. “Well, it... looks good on you. Real good.”

You ducked your head, a sleepy laugh escaping your lips, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped at his words. “I’m sure it does, c'mon let's get going if we want to beat the queue or whatever,” you teased, though there was no bite behind it. You didn’t have the energy for anything but honesty, and you were still caught up in the warmth of his hoodie, the way it felt like a shield against the morning chill.

His grin softened, and he rubbed the back of his neck, looking suddenly self-conscious. “Nah, I mean it,” he said, his drawl slow and unsteady. “Didn’t know you’d make my old thing look that good.”

You shrugged again, feeling your face flush as you ducked your chin deeper into the collar of the hoodie. “Guess I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, your eyes still half-closed, struggling to focus in the dim lighting.

“Yeah, you should,” he said, the words coming out a little too fast like he couldn’t quite control the way they slipped out. He was still watching you, his gaze almost tender, his usual confidence faltering in the face of your sleepy vulnerability.

You felt an odd sensation bloom in your chest. Something soft and unsteady, and you weren’t sure if it was the early hour, his deep, sleep-rough voice, or the way he couldn’t seem to look away from you. You fumbled to roll up the too-long sleeves, your fingers barely managing to fold the fabric back, and Ben’s gaze followed the movement, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite name.

He hesitated, then stepped closer, his movements careful and unhurried, like he was testing the boundaries of whatever this was between you. He lifted his coffee cup, its warmth radiating outwards as he held it just inches from your face. “Here,” he offered his voice still that deep morning rumble that made your stomach twist. “You look like you could use this more than I do.”

Ben handed you the mug, and as you took a sip, your fingers barely brushed his, such a small, fleeting touch that it might as well have been an accident. But the warmth of it lingered, and Ben’s eyes, still sleepy but more awake than yours, didn’t stray from your face. You were too groggy to notice as you took a deep gulp of the warm coffee. It was rich and comforting, exactly what you needed to get moving, and you barely caught the way Ben's gaze softened as you closed your eyes and sighed contentedly.

You held the mug back out to him, half-smiling as you blinked against the morning light spilling through the windows. “Okay, I'll admit, it’s good,” you admitted, handing it over with a sleepy grin.

Ben grinned back, his tone suddenly lighter as he accepted the mug again. “Mhm, damn right,” his drawl thick in the early hour, the kind that always made you feel just a bit more awake than you were ready for. His voice was deep, still rough from sleep, and you felt a strange flutter at the sound of it, so different from his usual light-hearted teasing. He looked like he wanted to add something further, but instead, he raised the mug to his lips, pausing for the briefest moment before taking a sip from the exact spot where your mouth had just been.

“Let’s go,” he said softly, his voice a little rough, almost hesitant, and you nodded, letting him lead the way out into the slowly illuminating streets.

The walk to the café was quiet, but it was a different kind of quiet now, one that felt heavy with things left unsaid, with the strange intimacy of the moment lingering between you like a secret. Your footsteps echoed against the pavement, and you felt more awake with each step, the chilly air biting at your face and the faint light from the rising sun glinting off the windows above. Ben was walking a little too close, his arm brushing yours every now and then, and you noticed the way he kept sneaking glances at you as if he was trying to memorise every detail, the way his hoodie pooled around your hips, the faint shadow of sleep still lingering in your eyes and on your pouted lips, the way you hadn’t bothered to fix your hair or hide the bare honesty of your face.

“Don't think I’ve ever seen you this early before,” he said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence, low and rumbling like distant thunder. “No makeup, no fancy clothes. Just... I don't know, man, just you.”

You looked up at him, squinting a little against the first light of dawn, and tried to muster up some kind of retort, but all you could manage was a half-hearted, sleepy smile. “Disappointed?” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Not even a little,” he said, and the sincerity in his voice hit you like a punch to the gut. He smiled, the edges of his mouth curling up in that familiar way that made your heart skip, and you found yourself smiling back without even realising it, feeling lighter and warmer than you had in a long time.

The two of you arrived at the café, footsteps slowing as you got closer. But when you reached the door, your heart sank. Not a single person lined up. The café was dark, the interior shrouded in shadows, and there, taped to the inside of the window, was a handwritten sign that read: Closed. Opens at 7 AM.

You blinked at it, still half-asleep, your shoulders slumping as disappointment settled in. “Ben,” you dragged a hand over your face before narrowing your eyes at him, “you’re telling me I could’ve slept for two more hours? I thought it'd be open sooner!”

“Hey, who needs sleep?” he said, shrugging without a hint of regret. He gestured to the empty curb across the street with a grin. “C’mon. Let’s sit it out. I’ll make the time fly right by.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Despite the chill in the early-morning air, you settled beside him on the curb, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as you rested your chin atop your knees. The street was quiet in the way only early morning can be, just the two of you and the distant hum of a waking city.

Ben stretched his long legs out in front of him like he owned the street. There was something so easy about sitting there with him in the silence, the air crisp and the sky just beginning to lighten with the first hints of dawn. You watched the horizon, focusing on the deepening shades of indigo and pale gold, the familiar comfort of the city awakening inch by inch. It was strange how easy it was to be around him, how your guard dropped without you even noticing. His presence was effortless, and the way his eyes rested on you every now and then, like you were someone worth seeing, made you feel something you didn’t quite want to name yet.

“You know,” he murmured, a hint of his usual humour in his tone, “you’re not half bad at relaxin’ after all.”

You shot him a soft glare, lips twitching. “Are you trying to say I’m fun?”

“Hmm...I’d say a little more than fun,” he replied, his smile widening. “But let’s just leave it at that for now. At least no one’s in line, so we’ll get the best seat in the house when they do open” He glanced over to you as he leaned back on his palms.

You chuckled, glancing at the empty street. The entire street was silent, just the two of you in the quiet stillness of dawn. You relaxed a little, sinking further into the oversized hoodie that smelled like him, comforting and familiar.

After a while, he nudged you with his shoulder, his eyes up to the sky but his voice low. “You ever notice how I always seem to get you roped into these side quests of mine?” he asked, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. “Errands, random snack runs, you name it.”

You shot him a sideways glance, fighting back a smirk. “Oh, I’ve noticed. You have a knack for it, Ben. You’re lucky I can keep up. You nominated me for laundry duty last week too.”

He let his head back with a laugh. “Well, you’re good at it.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to help the smile that pulled at your lips. “Or maybe you’re just lazy.”

“Nah, it’s ‘cause you’re the only person who’ll actually come along for the ride,” he admitted, his gaze settling on you with a softness that made your heart skip. “Anyway… why don’t you ever bring a boyfriend along on one of these little errands? Not like you're short on admirers.”

His question caught you off guard, and you looked away, staring out at the sunrise as your thoughts turned inward. It was a topic you rarely touched, one you hadn’t even realised you’d been avoiding until now.“I don’t know,” you said softly, your voice distant and hesitant. “I guess, maybe… it’s just easier this way?”

“No one special you’re hiding from me, huh?” Ben’s tone was gentle, almost teasing, but his eyes held a genuine curiosity. He wanted to understand.

You swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat. This was a part of yourself you rarely shared, a shadow you’d kept hidden for a long time. But the stillness of the morning and the warmth in his gaze tugged at something deep inside. “There was someone,” you admitted, barely above a whisper. “A while ago.”

He didn’t say anything, just watched you, the usual teasing gone, replaced by quiet patience.

“He... he liked that I had my life together, y'know? Like I was this 'go-getter,' always calm and composed,” you said, slowly letting the words surface. “Or at least, that’s what he told me. He said he liked that I wasn’t flashy and that I didn’t draw too much attention to myself. I think he appreciated my quiet confidence, and how I could go with the flow. Looking back, I think it was because he thought it made me easier to control...” You let out a short, hollow laugh that didn’t reach your eyes.

“I didn’t even realise when things shifted,” you continued, voice more firm now. “When he went from showing genuine interest to making all the decisions. It must've been gradual, but it felt like it just happened one day; I don’t know when it started. Suddenly, he was calling all the shots, and I thought I was just being a good partner. Compromising. Making space for him. Letting him be himself. But I didn’t see that, bit by bit, I was putting myself away.”

Ben’s jaw tightened, but he remained silent, his attention urging you to go on.

“He’d ignore my texts for hours, sometimes days, and then act like I was overreacting when I brought it up. But God forbid I missed one of his calls during training or when I was away on tour. If I couldn’t stay up late to talk, he’d make it into a huge deal. We’d set times to call, but he’d never follow through—and always with some lame excuse.”

You paused, drawing a deep breath, eyes fixed on a point in the distance.

“And then there were the arguments,” you said, voice tightening. “About the most impossible things—like how I didn’t spend enough time with him. How could I when I was half a world away? Or how my career always came first. He said I was boring, that I wasn’t spontaneous enough. But whenever I tried to change, there was always something else wrong. No matter what I did, it was never enough.”

Ben’s expression darkened, a flicker of frustration tightening the corners of his mouth. His hand was on the curb next to yours, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his skin—grounding you.

“Maybe he was jealous,” you said, the words almost to yourself. “That’s what my mom said. Jealous of my success, or of the fact that I had something I loved that wasn’t about him. He knew exactly how to make me feel small. Every victory, every career milestone, he’d twist it, make me feel like I was failing him. Like I was always letting him down. I thought... if I could just balance it all if I could make him happy, he’d love me the way I needed. But honestly? I don’t even know what I needed anymore, not when he was the one telling me how to feel.”

You swallowed, the bitterness of those memories heavy on your tongue.

“No matter how much I shifted or tried to be the girl he wanted, it was never enough. There was always another criticism, another reason why I wasn’t good enough. I was too selfish, too focused on my career, too indecisive, too... everything. And I believed him. I thought I was the problem. That I just couldn’t make him happy.”

A light breeze swept through the street, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, pulling your knees close as if to shield yourself from the weight of those memories.

“He was... God, Ben, you should've heard him. He was so relentless when he wanted to be. It felt like every part of my life was under a microscope, every single decision, every single choice; it was all wrong. All the things I loved, the things that made me proud, they just started to fade away, like they’d been drained of colour.”

Your voice cracked slightly, but you pushed on, finding strength in the words you’d never fully voiced before.

“I started to lose myself in a spiral. Everything felt so ... grey, so heavy like I was wading through water. I thought... isn’t this what relationships are? Compromise, sacrifice, working through the rough patches? That’s what I kept telling myself. I thought if I just tried harder, if I carried the weight for both of us, then maybe he’d be happy again, like how he was in the beginning. But I started wondering if I was even cut out for love. I mean, what does it even mean to love someone, really? All I knew was that I kept losing myself in the process, and it still wasn’t nearly enough.”

You exhaled, as the quiet of the morning felt almost too peaceful, the faint chirping of birds contrasting with the heaviness of what you were saying.

“And then he cheated,” you continued, your voice flat. “When I found out, he didn’t even try to deny it. He just looked at me, fatigued, and was like, ‘What did you expect with the way you treat me? Don’t be so naive.’ But you know what?”

You paused, a strange light creeping into your voice.

“It was almost a relief. Him cheating... it was my way out. For the first time, I had a solid, undeniable reason to leave. I didn’t have to keep convincing myself that I needed to try harder, or that it was all my fault.”

Your voice softened, carrying vulnerability.

“I don’t even know if I ever really loved him, or maybe, I don't know how to love. Maybe I just loved the idea of being loved or being enough for someone. But the truth is, I don’t think I even know what love is supposed to feel like. I gave everything I had, and it still wasn’t right, I felt so drained like a vampire had me. Maybe I’ve never felt real love, or maybe... maybe I’m just not meant for it.”

Ben’s silence was heavy beside you, his gaze unwavering, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. The shame and rawness of your words made your throat tighten, but you kept going.

“I stayed until I had nothing left to give until I got cheated on, and even then, I couldn’t tell you why. It was like I was trying to win a game I didn’t even understand. And in the end, I realised... I never even had him, not truly. I was always chasing something that wasn’t there. It was always a losing game, and I was the only one playing.”

Ben’s gaze was steady, the weight of your words hanging between you. Then he spoke, his tone warm and sincere. “You don’t deserve someone treating you like that. Not ever. I-"

He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment before he continued.

"I can’t even imagine doin' that to you. You’re more than enough, you always have been. You don’t need to change a single thing for anyone. Man, I like you just the way you are because I know you, and I know you’re worth so much more than what you settled for with that dick.”

A tear slid down your cheek, carrying all the hurt you’d kept buried for so long. You weren’t crying, not really, but his words had found their way past all your defences, and something inside you softened and broke open.

“Do you really mean that?” you asked, your voice small, almost scared, your eyes searching his.

Ben’s eyes locked onto yours, and something in his expression shifted. For a moment, he seemed almost stunned, his face softening, his features melting with a tenderness that made it hard to breathe. He reached out slowly to cup your face with his hand, as if afraid you might pull away, and when you didn’t, he gently wiped the tear from your cheek. His fingers lingered, brushing against your skin with a touch so careful it made your heart ache.

“I mean every word,” he said, his voice low and steady, barely more than a whisper. “I see you, Y/N. I’ve always seen you.”

His words hit you like a wave, and the tears came faster, though still silent. Ben’s expression softened even further, and he pulled you into him without hesitation, wrapping a strong arm around you, and holding you close. You pressed your face into his shoulder, feeling the warmth and solid comfort of him, and slowly, you let yourself sink into his embrace. He didn’t speak, just rubbed your back in gentle circles, his chin resting on top of your head.

After minutes had passed when the tightness in your chest had started to fade and the early morning warmth grew warmer, you felt him smile against your hair. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, and he said with a playful grin, “If this is all it takes to get a hug outta you, I should’ve asked sooner.”

You couldn’t help it, you let out a small, breathy laugh, rolling your eyes even as you stayed close to him, nestling your head before you lifted it up.

“Oh, shut up,” you said, smacking his shoulder lightly. “If I knew you were gonna use emotional blackmail for free hugs, I would’ve kept my distance.”

He chuckled, the sound low and comforting, and the warmth of the moment settled between you. You pulled away, wiping your face with the oversized sleeves of his old hoodie, the one that had become yours. The quiet returned, peaceful now, the sun creeping higher in the sky and washing everything in shades of soft orange and pink.

You sat together in silence, shoulder to shoulder, the pain slowly ebbing away as the world woke up around you. There was something different between you now, a shift that neither of you said out loud but both of you felt. For the first time in a long time, you felt a weight lift, and you let yourself relax against him, the silence and small conversation comfortable as you felt relief and warmth flow through you.

By the time the café finally opened, you and Ben had spent two hours huddled together as the sun began to bathe you two, and sharing quiet laughter as the world slowly woke up around you. The anticipation of the legendary breakfast had both of you giddy and a little loopy from the early start, making the time fly by.

But when the doors swung open and you finally got your hands on the much-hyped breakfast sandwiches, reality hit. The sandwiches were mediocre, wayyy too salty and the coffee was disappointingly weak. The "famous" breakfast sandwiches that Ben’s TikTok video had promised would be life-changing were, frankly, a letdown. Yet, it didn’t matter at all.

The two of you slid into a corner booth, expecting to sit across from each other, but Ben surprised you by scooting in right beside you, his thigh pressing lightly against yours. He stretched his legs out under the table, claiming the whole space as his own. You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into his warmth as you sipped your disappointing coffee.

“This is the most underwhelming breakfast I’ve ever had,” you said, crinkling your nose as you picked at the sandwich.

Ben chuckled, flashing you a mischievous grin. “Guess I owe you a better one, next time” he teased, nudging your shoulder with his.

“Damn right, you do,” you shot back with a smirk.

Ben’s arm rested casually over the back of the booth, his fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine. Every small, careless touch, his knee nudging yours, his fingers grazing your hoodie, made it harder to ignore the fluttering in your chest. With each laugh and shared smile, you felt something shifting between you, something that made it impossible to see him as just a friend, especially after being so vulnerable earlier.

As the café started to fill with the morning crowd, you remained on the same side of the booth, your legs tangled comfortably under the table. There was an easy closeness between you now, a kind of unspoken understanding like you were sharing a secret that only the two of you knew. When he reached over to brush a crumb from your lip as you talked, his fingertips barely grazing your skin, you felt your cheeks heat and words stutter, but you didn’t pull away. The sun rose higher, streaming golden light through the café windows, and the warmth between you felt softer and more real than any disappointment over a bad breakfast. Ben’s presence was grounding, and for the first time in a very long time, you felt genuinely at ease, like the weight of your earlier conversation and all your own personal baggage had lessened, transformed into something lighter by his easy smile and gentle touch.

By the time you both decided to leave, you were still laughing over the overhyped “legendary” breakfast. As you stepped out onto the sun-drenched street, Ben’s hand slipped into yours with a light squeeze, like always, as if to say, I’m still here. I’ve got you. The simple gesture left your skin tingling, and your heart racing just a little faster.

You walked together down the slowly waking street back to the hotel, shoulder to shoulder, arms looped together, a warmth lingering between you that had nothing to do with the sunrise. The world around you was coming alive, but it felt like you were still living in that quiet, private space you'd created in the early morning hours, a small bubble of warmth and closeness that was just yours. Of course, it couldn't last long, not with training and matches coming up alongside personal commitments and whatever else, but having this quiet time together was more than rewarding.

As the café faded into the past, so did the warmth of those golden moments, but the echoes lingered. It wasn’t just the memory of his hand brushing yours or the way his laugh had chased away the lingering shadows of your conversation. It was the way he lingered, so effortlessly, so relentlessly, in the quiet spaces of your life.

You couldn’t stop thinking about him as your tour carried you to different cities. The way his hand had slipped into yours so naturally that morning replayed in your mind at the oddest times: during practice serves, mid-flight naps creeping into your peaceful dreams, even while unpacking yet another suitcase in yet another hotel room. It wasn’t like you wanted to be distracted, but Ben was everywhere, his presence stamped into your routine as if he’d always been part of it. And it seemed as though he had no intention of loosening that grip he had on your mind. Calls and messages were frequent as days blurred into one another, conversations that felt simultaneously too much and not nearly enough. Ones that'd have you squealing in bed as you reread over the texts or have you clutching your phone tight minutes after hanging up, savouring the small moments. The banter was still there, as effortless as it was grounding, but now it came with an undercurrent you couldn’t name, something unspoken threading its way through the pauses between your words. Ben became a comforting constant amid the chaos. He was always just a call or a text away, his presence a steady anchor even when everything else felt transient. And while you were grateful for the familiarity, it didn’t stop the butterflies that erupted every time his name lit up your phone.

Like tonight.

After a gruelling match and a hurried dinner that barely counted as a meal, you finally collapsed onto the hotel bed. The quiet of the room felt foreign after the noise of the day, but it was a relief until your phone buzzed on the nightstand. The call started with Ben’s face filling the screen, eyebrows raised and a smirk already in place.

“Hey, stranger,” he smiled in a sing-song tone.

“Oh, spare me,” you said, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself.

" 'Spare me?' ” Ben scoffed, kicking back and grinning at the screen. “Girl, you’re acting like you’re the only one with a rough schedule. What’ve you been up to? Post-match feast, or just a sad granola bar?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Neither. Quick and quiet dinner after the match, some bland pasta with a wilted salad, the usual. Real glamorous stuff.You already back to your hotel?”

“Hours ago,” he said. “Caught the highlights of your match, though. That backhand winner down the line? Chef’s kiss.” He mimed a dramatic kiss to the camera. “You’re out here stealing the show.”

“Please,” you said, rolling your eyes, and shrugging. “It wasn’t even my best match. I’ll take a win, though.”

“Don’t be modest,” Ben teased. “Meanwhile, my highlights reel was probably just me sweating buckets with my shirt clinging to me and yelling after missing a forehand.”

You smirked. “Nah, you’re too busy being ‘America’s tennis heartthrob.’ I’m sure your fangirls don’t even notice the double faults.”

Ben groaned, throwing his head back. “Not this again.”

“Oh, come on,” you grinned, teasing him. “Tall, built, All-American golden boy? I’m shocked they haven’t made you into a wax figure yet! ATP should get on that, the more I think about it.”

He leaned forward, raising an eyebrow. “Is the golden boy charm working on you?”

You blinked, caught off guard, furrowing your brows. “What..? No. Shut up!”

Ben chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. “Hey, I was just checking. You're the one who brought it up.”

“Yeah, well…” you said, flustered, fumbling for a comeback. “I mean, I guess it’s a little funny. The way they’re all obsessed with you, I mean.”

He smirked. “Smooth save.”

“Whatever,” you muttered, looking away. “At least you’re not lonely on tour. You’ve got Bryan. Built-in travel buddy.”

Ben scrunched his face up. “Oh yeah, great idea! Let me just grab dinner with my dad after a match so he can spend two hours lecturing me about footwork and his ‘good ol’ days.’ ”

You laughed, before breaking into a pout. “Poor, poor Bryan. He just wants to hang out with his son, and you’re out here running from him.”

“I’m not running,” Ben said defensively. “I’m…um, strategically avoiding.”

“Sure you are.”

“And anyway, no one here’s like you,” he added, his tone casual but his gaze steady.

That caught you off guard. “Yeah-w-what?”

Ben’s smirk deepened. “Don’t choke now. Where’s that quick wit of yours?”

“Shut it,” you groaned, your face heating up as you pressed your face into the mattress.

“Aw, you’re blushing,” he teased, leaning closer to the camera. “Cat really got your tongue this time, huh?”

“Ben, I swear to God,” you said, groaning and burying your face in your hands and dropping the phone.

He laughed, clearly triumphant. “It’s okay, you’ll get me back at the charity doubles event in a few months. I’m counting on you to carry me.”

“Carry you?” you said, grateful for the change in topic. “I thought you were the unstoppable Ben Shelton. 'Big serves, big shots.’ "

“Yeah, yeah, but doubles is different,” he said with a shrug. “Doubles is all about teamwork. I’ll take your instructions. Like Federer and Mirka, except, y’know, cooler.”

You laughed. “Cooler? That’s a bold claim.”

“Why not?” he said, spreading his arms wide. “They’re classy, they’re unstoppable, and they look good doing it. That’s us, right? Total power couple energy.”

“Power couple?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“On the court,” he clarified with a wink. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep it professional.”

“You’d better,” you muttered, shaking your head, though you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

As the call ended and the screen faded to black, you lingered in the quiet of your room, your pulse still racing in the aftermath of his teasing grin. Your fingers traced the necklace at your throat, the metal cool under your touch, but the memory it carried, the warmth of his hands, the way his eyes had softened when he fastened it, made your chest feel full and tight all at once.

You had to admit, Ben Shelton was infuriatingly good at leaving you in this liminal space, caught somewhere between wanting to roll your eyes and wanting to let yourself fall completely into whatever this was becoming.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself off the bed and rifled through your suitcase, finding his hoodie tucked neatly inside. It was a lifeline, an anchor to him when the distance felt like too much. The fabric was soft against your cheek as you hugged it to your chest, his scent faint but unmistakable, as if he were still there, filling the room with his easy laughter and ridiculous charm. It was almost maddening how easily he got under your skin, how his words lingered long after the call had ended, tangling themselves with your thoughts and leaving you guessing.

Was he just being Ben? The not-knowing was intoxicating in its own way, a thrill and torment that made your stomach flutter and your mind race long into the night until you could fall asleep, and even then, he graced your dreams with his warmth that you could never get enough of.

For Ben, the feelings weren’t any simpler. He leaned back against his hotel bed, the phone still warm in his hand, the smile he’d worn during the call refusing to fade. You always had this way of leaving him grinning like an idiot, proud of his one-liners that caught you off guard but tonight felt different. He loved catching you off guard, how you’d try to fire back some clever retort only to stammer and fall silent, just like the first time he met you. It wasn’t just funny to him; it was endearing, that quiet vulnerability you didn’t even seem to notice. And God, you were beautiful, even in that post-match haze, hair damp and face free of makeup, exhaustion softening your edges in a way that only made you look more real, more you. He wished he could've seen you in person; he could stare at you like that for hours and still turn back for a second glimpse, never getting enough.

He sighed, rolling onto his side as his fingers hovered over a photo on his camera roll, the one where you weren’t looking, too focused on a menu, brow furrowed like the decision was life or death, another one of you in his car, casually on your phone, followed by another photo and another. He couldn’t help it; his chest tightened at the memory of moments like that, the way you made the chaos of his life feel lighter. Then there were the little things: the protein bar with your teasing note that you threw in his bag during a practice one time, or the way you seemed to know exactly when to check in when you could read how he honestly was.

It scared him sometimes, how easily you crept into his thoughts, how much he wanted to be the reason you smiled the way you had tonight. And yet, even as the thought tightened in his chest, Ben smiled again, already counting down the days until he’d see you at the charity event, knowing it just couldn't come sooner.

The atmosphere at the event was electric, a blend of effortless fun and star-studded tennis. Neon lights pulsed along the edges of the court, casting playful shadows on the buzzing crowd as a DJ spun upbeat tracks that thrummed in your chest and made the ground pulse. It was far from a serious tournament, more like a party on a tennis court, where fans and players mingled, indulging in casual games and champagne-laced banter.

You smoothed down your navy skirt, the silky white bow in your hair fluttering lightly as you stepped into the tunnel, the buzz of conversation growing louder. A little blush, a sweep of mascara, and a touch of concealer made you look radiant but understated; the only jewellery you wore was the rose-gold necklace Ben had gotten you, gleaming softly against your collarbones under the venue’s lights.

“Ready to dazzle?” another player teased as she passed by, her racket slung lazily over her shoulder. You shot her a grin, zipping up your bag as you mentally prepared for the night ahead. But before you could take another step with your bag now slung over your arm, a hand wrapped gently around your wrist, tugging you back into the shadowed corner of the tunnel.

You turned quickly, your startled expression melting into a mixture of exasperation and amusement when you saw Ben. He was leaning against the wall, grinning like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.

“Subtle as always,” you teased, arching a brow, even as your chest tightened slightly at the sight of him. It had been months, and somehow, he looked the same but different, more confident, more composed, yet just as unmistakably Ben.

He tilted his head, his grin spreading slowly. “What can I say? I like to make an entrance.”

“By sneaking up on me?” you quipped, folding your arms but unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Better than yelling, don’t you think?” He pushed off the wall, stepping closer, his presence filling the space between you. For a moment, the noise of the crowd outside felt distant, the thrum of music fading into the background.

He let his eyes roam, taking in the bow in your hair and the soft gleam of the necklace he’d picked out weeks ago. “You look…” He trailed off, his voice softer now, tinged with something he wasn’t saying. “I mean, wow.”

You felt your cheeks flush, the warmth crawling up your neck as you shifted on your feet. “Don’t start, Shelton,” you muttered, though your voice lacked any conviction.

“What? It’s a compliment.” His tone dipped, quiet but teasing, as he leaned just enough for you to catch the faint scent of his cologne. “Guess I forgot how good you clean up...y'know while still bein' all proper.”

You tried for a quick, witty comeback, but the words stumbled and caught in your throat when his eyes met yours again, warm and intent. It was like he saw through the polished image you’d carefully put together for tonight, straight to the version of you he knew best: messy hair, sweat-soaked, exhausted after a match.

“Ben...” you started, voice faltering as he smiled.

“Missed this,” he murmured, stepping even closer as he studied your face, his gaze lingering on your lips. “Missed you.”

The simplicity of it hit harder than you expected, your breath catching as he pulled you into a tight hug without hesitation. His arms wrapped around you with a sure, steady strength that made your chest ache, one hand splayed against your upper back, the other resting lightly at your waist, rubbing up and down with his thumb. Your cheek pressed into his shoulder as you let yourself lean in, your arms slipping around him.

You had to stand on your tiptoes to reach him properly, your nose brushing the soft skin of his neck. He smelled faintly of cologne and something clean, and when he bent slightly to press his face against your hair, the warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine.

Neither of you said anything at first; the hug lingered just long enough to toe the line between friendly and something more.

“Alright, lovebirds,” a voice called from behind, breaking the moment. You glanced over to see Tommy Paul strolling by with a smirk, holding a tennis racket slung over one shoulder. “Save it for the courts.”

You pulled back quickly, a small laugh spilling out despite yourself. Ben groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Ignore him,” he muttered, his other hand still resting lightly on your waist.

You shook your head, biting back a smile as you looked up at him. “Guess I should’ve known you’d bring your fan club with you.”

Ben chuckled, his thumb brushing against your side before he let his hand drop. “They’re just jealous,” he teased. Then, his grin turned sharper, more mischievous. “Besides, you’re Mirka tonight, remember? That makes me Federer.”

You rolled your eyes, already turning back toward the tunnel’s exit. “Then let’s hope you’re half as good on the court as he is.”

His laugh followed you, rich and unbothered. “Careful, Mirka, I might just have to prove it to you out there.”

You smirked, stepping forward toward the light of the court. “Right. I'll see you out there, Federer.”

Ben chuckled low behind you, the sound carrying as he followed. “Better bring your A-game, Mirka.”

You both stepped into the event space, the pulse of music and hum of voices a vibrant backdrop. A waiter with a tray of champagne flutes passed by, and Ben grabbed two, handing you one. “For courage?” he teased, raising a brow.

“Or patience,” you countered with a cheeky smile, clinking your glass against his before taking a sip. The bubbles tickled your throat, a pleasant warmth settling in your chest.

The two of you drifted toward the edge of the court, lingering for a moment to take in the scene. Fans were scattered around, some waving excitedly as they noticed you both, others engrossed in their own games. The energy in the air was contagious.

“You nervous?” Ben asked, glancing down at you, his shoulder brushing yours as he leaned closer.

You scoffed lightly, tilting your head toward him. “Pfft, not even a little. You?”

“Only about carrying you,” he shot back with a teasing grin.

You laughed, a genuine, carefree sound that had him grinning even wider. “Big talk for someone who hasn’t even warmed up yet.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, taking a sip from his glass, his eyes never leaving yours. “Trust, I’m plenty warm now.”

The look he gave you was so direct, so warm, it sent a shiver down your spine. For a second, you almost forgot where you were, his gaze holding you in place. Then, with a soft laugh, you shook your head. “Careful, Shelton. I might start to think you’re flirting with me.”

“And if I am?” he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

You didn’t answer, the sudden heat in your cheeks making you glance away. But Ben stepped closer, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse quicken. “You’re kinda cute when you’re quiet, you know that?”

“I’m not quiet,” you retorted, though the slight stumble in your voice only made his grin deepen.

He shook his head before he got pulled into some conversation, the night stretching out with laughs. It wasn't long before it was your turn on the courts with Ben for mixed doubles with fans. The game was as lighthearted as the crowd’s energy, every point a mix of banter, champagne-fueled laughter, and effortless coordination between you and Ben. You didn’t know if it was the bubbly coursing through your veins or just the sheer ease of being around him, but the nerves that usually gripped you on a court had dissolved into something bolder, something exhilarating.

“Hey! Didn’t know you could slice like that,” Ben teased, coming up beside you after you returned a tricky serve with a clean, low shot. His grin was wide, boyish, and entirely too charming.

“Didn’t know you cared enough to notice,” you quipped back, tossing him a look over your shoulder.

His laugh was low, his eyes sparkling under the court lights. “Oh, I notice. Don’t worry about that.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away as he moved to stand closer, his shoulder brushing yours. A fan on the opposite side sent the ball flying long, and you let out a small cheer, reaching up for a high five. His palm smacked yours, but instead of letting go, his fingers lingered, curling slightly against yours to hold your hand in his big one as he leaned down just enough for only you to hear.

“Careful now,” he murmured, his voice dipping, his thumb grazing your palm. “Don’t make me think I need to keep you around full-time.”

Your stomach flipped, and you blinked up at him, thrown off by the sudden softness in his tone. “Keep up the compliments, Shelton, and I might start thinking you’re sweet.”

“I can be sweet,” he said, his grin turning a little cocky as he finally released your hand. “But only when you’re around.”

You were saved from having to respond by the start of the next point, though your heart was far too distracted to focus properly. Ben, however, didn’t seem fazed, his energy casual and relaxed as he sent a gentle lob to the next fan on the rotation. Between rallies, he wandered back to your side of the court, resting his hand briefly on the small of your back, rubbing it softly. The touch was fleeting, but it left a trail of warmth in its wake.

As you finished another easy point, Ben jogged toward you. “So, is this your strategy? Win them over with that slice and then charm me into doing all the work?”

You laughed, spinning your racket in your hand. “Oh, puh-lease. I’m doing most of the carrying here, Ben. Admit it, you’d be lost without me.”

“Lost? Nah.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping just a fraction. “Distracted? Definitely.”

Your breath caught, the weight of his gaze lingering longer than it should have. But before you could respond, another cheer from the crowd broke the moment. He stepped back, grinning as though he hadn’t just thrown your heart into overdrive.

By the end of the set, the champagne had smoothed the edges of your usual reserve, and the energy between you both crackled with something unspoken but undeniable. When you reached for another high-five after the final point, he caught your hand and tugged gently, pulling you just a step closer this time.

“We got a nice win,” he murmured, his eyes flicking down to yours.

“Mhm, and I got a nice partner,” you replied, the words falling out before you could think better of them.

His grin softened, his hand brushing lightly against your lower back again. “Careful. I might start thinking you’re trying to charm me.”

“And if I am?” you shot back, your eyes coy and big as your newfound confidence was fueled by the buzz in your veins and the way he was looking at you as if no one else in the world mattered.

Ben’s laughter was warm and rich, a blush spreading across his cheeks that wasn't just from the game. The way his eyes stayed locked on yours said everything. “Then I’d say it’s working.”

As the event wound down, you and Ben exchanged a few last high-fives with the fans. The laughter and excitement of the crowd hung in the air, but as the noise began to settle, there was a familiar, charged silence between you two. The playful teasing, the flirty glances, it was all still there, but now it had a weight to it as if the evening had somehow shifted to a different gear.

Ben caught up to you as you started to make your way toward the exit, his smile flashing as he fell into step beside you. "So, what do you think?" he asked, voice low and teasing. "Pizza? Just us? The rest are going to a restaurant downtown, but I thought we could hang out n' catch up."

You raised an eyebrow, the suggestion making your heart skip a beat. There was something about the idea of more time with him, just the two of you, that sent a rush through your chest. “Pizza?” you repeated, the buzz from the champagne still swirling inside you, but now mixing with a touch of curiosity. “After all that, you want to drag me to some random pizza joint?”

Ben grinned, his eyes full of mischief. "It's not random. It’s a little hidden gem, just a few blocks away. Trust me, it's worth it. You won’t find better pizza around here, Ben approved.”

You glanced at him, your internal struggle between teasing him and playing it cool warring inside you. There was something in the way he said it, an undeniable charm in his voice that made you want to go. The idea of quiet, easy conversation with him, without the crowd, the friends and the noise, felt too good to pass up.

"Alright, fine," you said, rolling your eyes but giving in. "But if this place turns out to be some dive with soggy crust, I’m blaming you.”

Ben laughed, his grin widening. “Deal. You’ll love it, though. I wouldn’t steer you wrong.”

The two of you began walking down the street, and the air between you seemed to settle into something new, something more intimate. The world around you felt quieter now, each step taking you farther from the noise of the event and closer to something more personal. With every step, the liquid courage from the champagne seemed to melt away, leaving behind a fluttery, almost nervous feeling in your chest. Maybe it was the lingering heat from the flirting, or maybe it was just that you were walking with him, alone.

“So,” you asked, trying to keep it light, but your curiosity bubbled through, “how many people do you drag to these random pizza spots, Ben?”

He chuckled at that, his eyes flicking over to you for a brief moment, amused. “Honestly? Not many. You’re the first one, I think.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Really? I’m the first person you’ve brought here?”

Ben shrugged casually, his grin widening with the playfulness that was so typical of him. “I don’t usually do this kind of thing. But when I find a place this good, I kinda want to share it with someone who'd 'ppreciate it, someone who's... worth it.”

His words hung in the air, and for a split second, everything between you seemed to be still. You could feel the warmth in your chest, the closeness between you suddenly feeling charged. You fought the urge to let it show, instead meeting his gaze with a playful grin.

“Well, lucky me, huh?”

“Lucky you,” Ben echoed, and his voice softened just enough that you noticed. He turned slightly toward you, his pace matching yours, steady and relaxed.

By the time you reached the pizza place, the small talk had faded into a comfortable silence, both of you still trying to make sense of whatever was happening between you. You hadn’t crossed any line yet, but with every moment, it felt more inevitable that something was to change. As you walked inside the tiny pizzeria, the smell of fresh baked goods hit you immediately. The cozy, intimate atmosphere felt like a world away from the high-energy chaos of the event. Ben led you to the counter, and even though the tension between you was still palpable, it had shifted. It was no longer the playful, teasing kind of tension, it was something else. Something unspoken, but undeniable.

You had no idea where this was heading, but with Ben by your side, you were curious to find out.

You walk back toward the venue, the buzz of the event now a distant memory, stomachs full from the pizza that somehow tasted better than it had any right to. The tiny pizzeria, tucked away in a quiet corner, had been the perfect escape. The laughter that had flowed freely while you ate had washed away the tension and the drunken buzz that had clung to you both all night. It had been easy, lighthearted, comfortable, like nothing had changed, even though everything had.

As the two of you strolled back under the glow of the streetlights, a comfortable silence settled between you. The air was cool, a light breeze weaving through the night. The only sound was the rhythm of your shoes on the pavement. Yet, inside, you both felt the weight of what hadn’t been said.

Ben’s hands were stuffed in his pockets as he kept pace with you, his easy stride matching yours. But something had shifted in him, his smile softer, his eyes more attentive as he glanced at you. “You look really good tonight, you know that?”

You laughed lightly, rolling your eyes as you shook your head. “Ben, you keep saying that,” you teased, “What’s the deal with you tonight? You want something?”

He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners, genuine and unguarded. “Nah, I'm just sayin' 'cause it’s true,” he said, a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

Your stomach fluttered, the compliment hitting you harder than you expected. You’d heard him say things like that before, but tonight? There was something different in the way he said it. Something quieter, more sincere.

“Okay, okay,” you said with a grin, trying to mask the effect his words had on you. “I get it, I look good. Thank you.” You laughed at yourself, but Ben’s gaze never wavered from you.

Ben chuckled, his tone light but steady. “I mean it,” he repeated softly, then added, “And that necklace we got... It’s perfect for you, made for you. Looks really good on you.”

You touched the pendant on the necklace, the one he had picked out for you earlier, and it felt foreign now. Warmer, more meaningful, like it was holding a piece of the night with it. “I think you’re just saying that to flatter me,” you teased.

“I’m not,” he said seriously, his voice dropping slightly. “You really do look good. I mean you’ve always looked good, but tonight... I dunno, it’s sumn' else.”

You caught the sincerity in his words, and your heart thumped a little harder. Ben, usually the jokester, was being serious now. “Well,” you said, your voice almost breathless, “Thank you. I’ll take it.”

He smiled, a playful glint in his eyes still there, but it was softer. “Of course.”

There was a long pause as you walked side by side. The city’s lights flickered around you, the hum of the night settling into a comfortable silence. But then, something shifted. You couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“So, Ben…” you started, your voice tentative. “Are you like this with every girl you meet?”

His stride faltered for just a second, and he turned to look at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean, like ‘this’?”

“Flirty,” you let out a breath at your boldness, a teasing edge in your voice. “Like making everyone feel like they’re the only one. Are you always so... charming?” You paused, gathering your courage. “You do this with every girl?”

Ben stopped walking, his hands sliding out of his pockets as he processed your words. He tilted his head, studying your face before shaking his head.

“What girl do I have around me or talk to, besides you, Emma and my mom?” His voice was calm, but there was an honesty in it that made your chest tighten. “You’re the only girl I ever talk to like this, spend time with. So no, not every girl.”

You blinked, surprised. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, really.” He looked at you like you were asking the most obvious question. “You think I’m like this with every girl I meet? I only talk to you like this.”

That honesty hit you harder than you expected, your breath catching. You hadn’t realized how much you’d assumed about him until now. His words made your heart race.

You glanced up at him, trying to make sense of it all. But his expression said everything you needed to know.

“Yeah, duh, c'mon, Y/N” he grinned, a sincere, slightly confused smile spreading across his face. “What makes you think I’d mess around like that? It’s only you.”

You stopped walking, your mind racing as his words sank in. “Wait,” you said, a disbelieving smile spreading across your face, though your brow furrowed. “You’re telling me, you don’t talk to anyone else like this? You don’t hang out with other girls?”

Ben chuckled softly, his hands back in his pockets, but his eyes serious as he looked at you. “Nah, you’re the only one I ask to hang with. You’re the only one I text first when I’m on tour. You’re the one I call to mess around with.” He smiled like he was telling you the simplest truth in the world. “So yeah, it’s just you.”

You swallowed thickly, your heart pounding in your chest. Every word Ben had said felt like it was pulling you under, a current that you could no longer fight. You hadn’t realised how much you needed to hear him say those things until the weight of them hit you, until his words finally opened the floodgates in your chest, making your heart pound. Could it be that he valued you just as much as you did him? You let out a slow breath, the air feeling heavier now like you were standing on the edge of something monumental.

“Ben…” you whispered as you halted in your tracks, your voice unsteady but determined, a sigh escaping your lips.

It didn’t make sense. You’d always assumed Ben had people around him, always figured he was surrounded by fans or other girls, but hearing him say that you were the one, the only one, hit you in a way you hadn’t expected. You opened your mouth to try to verbalise the swirling thoughts in your head, but the words stuck, so instead, you let the silence sit between you. Then, Ben took a slow step closer, his tone shifting from casual to something more serious.

“Can I be honest with you?” His voice was lower now, the playful edge that usually made everything feel light gone.

You nodded before you could even stop yourself, feeling your heartbeat thud in your chest. There was no going back now, not with the way he looked at you.

He took a deep breath before he began, looking down the street before turning to face you.

“I like you,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “Like, I really like you.” His gaze held yours, unwavering. “I know it’s probably not the best time to say it with everything going on, with our tours and us barely seein’ each other, but I can’t just let this hang on. I can’t just let it pass and regret not saying somethin’ later. I’m not that dumb.”

He exhaled like he was trying to shake off the weight of what he had just confessed, looking at you like he was unsure whether you would run or stay.

“You’ve got this way of, like... pullin’ me in, y’know? I don’t even know what to do with myself most of the time. I try to act like it's all cool like I’m just messin' around, but I can’t stop thinkin' about you, ever. And I never thought I’d be the kind of guy who gets wrapped up in somethin' like this. But here I am.”

You blinked, not sure if your heart was beating too fast or too slow. His confession hung in the air, heavier than anything either of you had said before. It was raw, and it made your chest tighten.

“I know we got months apart, and I know you probably think I’m crazy for sayin’ this now, but I had to say it.” He took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just... It’s just you.”

You stood still for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. The weight of his confession settled over you, his words still hanging in the air, thick with meaning. Your heart raced, and you could feel your pulse at your fingertips as you tried to process everything he had just shared. Ben took another step closer, inches away from you, his eyes never leaving yours. There was an intensity in his gaze that made everything feel surreal like you were the only two people in the world. His voice softened as he spoke again, this time with more emotion than before, his words raw and unguarded.

“You know,” he started, his drawl even more pronounced now, “ever since we first met, I wanted to be in your circle. I wanted to be around you, be close to you. But when I saw you with that necklace, and my hoodie, laughin’ and lookin’ up at me like that, God, Y/N, swear I could feel my heart meltin’ right then. I don’t even know how to explain it. It just felt like... I dunno, like everything clicked.” He paused, his breath catching as if he was just now realizing how much those little moments had meant to him.

“And when you told me about your ex, Jesus, I wanted to-” He cut himself off, a flash of anger flickering in his eyes, but he quickly controlled it. “I wanted to kill that son of a-” He stopped himself again, shaking his head as if shaking off the anger.

“Not that it matters. But what matters is that I want to show you what real love is. What real care feels like. What a real man’s like, y’know?” His voice dropped even lower, barely above a whisper. “What you deserve, and then some.”

He leaned in slightly, his hand instinctively reaching for yours, fingers brushing lightly, but lingering longer than necessary.

“Hell, if you gave me a chance, even, just, like, 20 minutes?” He let out a breath, a slight chuckle escaping his lips, but there was no humour behind it, only sincerity. “I’d give you the world, and more, in that short time. Until you told me enough. But I need you to know that... it’s real. It’s all real, Y/N. I wouldn’t say it if it wasn’t.”

You stood frozen, your mouth slightly parted, trying to catch your breath. His words hit you like a wave, each sentence making your heart race faster, your chest tightening as the weight of everything he said settled into your bones. You couldn’t speak for a second, lost in the gravity of what he had just revealed. The vulnerability, the truth in his eyes, the way his words laid bare a side of him you hadn’t seen before, it was all too much, and yet everything you hadn’t realized you wanted.

A sigh escaped your lips as the words came tumbling out of you.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” You shook your head, a soft laugh escaping you, but it was one of relief, one of release. “You drive me insane, Ben. Every time you’re around, every time you look at me like that, like I’m the only one in the room, it makes me feel things I’m not sure I know how to handle. I can’t even explain it to myself, let alone to you. It’s like I’m constantly trying to push it down, but every time you smile, or, God, when you do that thing with your eyes when you look at me like you’re the only one who really sees me…” You trailed off, the words too big to say all at once. You exhaled, shaking your head, but the relief was already washing over you. “I’ve never felt like this before. Not even close.”

Ben was quiet for a moment, his gaze softening as he listened. You could see the understanding in his eyes, the way he was holding back, yet completely tuned in to every word. It was different now. You felt his grip on your fingers tighten just slightly as if grounding both of you at this moment, a silent assurance that you weren’t alone in this confession.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low and gentle. “You don’t have to hold back with me.” He stepped closer, his other hand lifting to gently cradle your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a slow, deliberate motion that made your breath hitch. “I’ve felt it too. All of it. Every damn time I’m with you, I can’t stop thinkin’ about how much I want this. Want you.”

Before you could respond, before you could even process the depth of his words, Ben pulled you in, unable to hold back anymore. His lips found yours with a sudden, overwhelming intensity that took the air from your lungs. His kiss was deep, full of everything that had been unspoken between you two for so long, full of everything you needed and more. His hand at the back of your neck held you steady as his other arm wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him, the warmth of his body sending a wave of heat through you.

The late night wrapped around you like a blanket, the streetlights casting soft pools of light across the footpath, but it was the brick wall behind you that grounded you. Your back pressed against it, your hands instinctively finding his shirt, tugging him closer as if you couldn’t get enough. You felt his heartbeat against yours, steady and strong, in sync with the way your pulse quickened in response to him. Ben’s lips moved against yours with a kind of desperate gentleness, his kiss unhurried but passionate and purposeful, as if he was trying to pour everything he hadn’t said into this single moment. The world felt far away, all that existed was him and you, the weight of his confession still settling in the space between you, the understanding, the desire.

When he finally pulled back, it was only enough for your lips to part, breaths mingling between you, your chest rising and falling as if you had just run a marathon. His forehead rested against yours, and his hands slid from your face to the small of your back, holding you steady as you both tried to catch your breath.

You were still tangled up in the magic of his kiss, in the rawness of this moment, where everything finally made sense. The world seemed to slow down as you both stood there, foreheads pressed together. The air between you was thick with something unspoken, your breaths were still heavy, your heart racing, but there was also a quiet sense of relief as if you’d both been holding your breath for the longest time.

Ben leaned in slightly, his smile playful yet soft, his gaze locking with yours as the quiet of the night settled around you. "You know," he said, his voice low and teasing, "for the first time, you’ve got me completely speechless."

You couldn’t help but giggle at the silliness of it all, the way he always knew just how to make you laugh, how to make everything feel lighter. The sound of your laugh made his gummy smile widen, and before he could say anything else, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, your heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the night or the streetlights around you. It was just him.

Everything felt right at that moment, the electricity in the air, the warmth of his touch, and the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world. Maybe you and Ben didn't make much sense together to everyone else, but to the two of you, it was clear as day.

[disneyprincemuke]

the kind of book you can't put down

alternatively: do you want me or not? (prev)

in which the thought of settling down and being with her scares him more than anything in the world, but he can’t seem to steer away from the thought of ‘them’

(series masterlist)

so maybe logan fucked up. did he mess this all up for him and the potential love of his life? he's sitting across the dinner table, head down to feign his attention on his phone screen but his eyes are on her and the random guy that joined them for dinner.

he kissed her, for god's sake. and what kind of a reaction was that from him afterwards? a smile and then to hurl in front of the biggest crush you've ever had in your life is hardly appropriate. it's even worse now that he's avoided her all day and openly flirted with someone else while they were on the yacht for a couple of drinks earlier.

logan swore to himself a couple of weeks ago that she didn't deserve to play his games. if there was anything about starting to like your best friend, it was the sudden realisation that they don't deserve to be treated like the other girls you'd been with before.

he knows she deserves better than what he's doing right now. but admittedly, he got scared of the potential fallout with her. he's really found the bestest friend in her through the years they grew up together. he had to sit himself down this morning to figure out if it was worth risking their friendship for something more.

he watches her cover her mouth to giggle. he contemplates for a couple of seconds: does he want to watch this or should he just gouge his eyes out with the spoon on his plate?

he did want to approach her this morning at breakfast. when she was at the long table buffet waiting for some scrambled eggs - she looked very pretty in the maxi dress she'd bought specifically for this vacation, and it scared him.

he's always been more of a touch-and-go kind of person. thinking about laying with her innocently while they engaged in pillow talk terrified him.

"murder on your mind?" xyriel snorts, leaning towards him with a sly grin. "i've noticed how you've been looking at her for a couple of minutes now."

"i wasn't looking," logan quickly denies, sending his friend a weird look. "it's just weird having a stranger eating dinner with us. i'm not paying for his dinner."

"we know," xyriel grins, following his gaze. she presses her lips together. "but you used to bring girls with us to dinner. what makes hers any different?"

"nothing," logan lies with an innocent shrug. "i just think he is weird."

xyriel stifles a giggle, instead pursing her lips to not let out that everyone knows more than they actually do. "dude, you've got something for her or what?"

"what?" logan scoffs, turning to her with disbelief on his face. "the hell did you get that from? she's my best friend."

"you're just being a little odd," xyriel points out. "and, i've never seen you jealous before."

"i'm not jealous."

"really? you're going to lie to me? you're literally my biggest partner in crime when it comes to picking up girls at bars, and you're going to tell me that i don't know when you like somebody?"

"i don't like her. and i'm not jealous."

xyriel presses her lips together and throws her arms up into the air to surrender. "okay, fine. whatever you say. you don't like her, whatever. get back to me when you're done being indenial."

"xyriel!"

"what?" xyriel laughs, rolling her eyes. "you want to choose this hill to die on tonight, so i'll leave you alone until you're ready to face the facts."

he glances at them one more time. with another roll of his eyes, he shifts in his seat to sit up and start eating his dinner once more. but all he can think about is her lips on his.

she sighs, kicking at the gravel from the cobblestone pathway that leads to their villa. she excused herself from the restaurant early; all the half hearted flirting with some random guy she'd met on the yacht earlier proving to be a lot more draining than she thought.

while she liked the attention and the compliments that were spewing from his mouth, even she knew that it was all just a ruse to get into her pants and she's just not interested in him like that. she had let him down easy when he insisted to walk her back here.

he easily understood and kind of snorted, pointing out that it's obvious that she's got a thing for logan.

the area surrounding their villa is quiet - she'd specifically requested for one that provides them a bit more privacy.

she walks back and forth the pathway leading to their front door, swaying as she plays with the maxi skirt she's decided to put on for dinner. she hops over every other tile then twirling slightly before repeating the same actions up and down the stones. if someone were to see her, they might think that she's crazy.

all she can think of is the way logan had kissed her last night and the way his lips tasted against her.

but every time she starts to swoon at the possibility of falling in love with one of the people who know her best, the image of him pressed up against another girl in her bikini flashes through her mind. it's been bringing her to the edge of tears just imagining what they'd done when they disappeared into the far back of the yacht alone.

she's only ever been with one guy; someone she barely even dated for six months when she was sixteen. it could hardly even be considered a relationship with the way that it had gone.

logan's been with many girls, be it relationships or just simply hooking up with them. maybe she should just accept the fact that she will eventually just turn into one of logan's girls.

but how do you move past that after being friends for ages?

"oh, i thought you'd be asleep by now." she plants her feet into the cobblestone she's just jumped on, slumping her shoulders as her eyes drift to the reflection of the intrusion on the sliding glass door that leads into the villa. "i didn't expect you'd still be awake."

she sucks in a shakey breath when she realises that logan is not alone while approaching the villa. she turns around and forces a smile to her face, her hair landing on one shoulder. "i was just doing some thinking. the villa is yours - don't let me intrude on your alone time."

she carefully eyes the unnamed girl clinging onto logan's arm, body pressed up behind him with a grin on her face. it's a different girl from earlier. seems that her predictions are absolutely right: he might not have even remember the kiss in the first place.

all of these are just in her head.

"actually, i think i'll just join them for some drinks. they're still at the bar, right?" she smiles, pointing in the direction that they'd just approached from.

"no, it's fine," logan smiles with a shakey breath. he turns around to say something to the girl he's with. she can hear her protesting softly and then logan uses a firm voice to answer her. eventually, the girl gives up and simply turns on her heel and walks away.

"what, you lost your hardon when you realised you couldn't shag her in peace or something?" she scoffs, watching the girl walk away and logan turns to face her. "my bad for staying awake past my bedtime. i hope i didn't cost you the love of your life."

logan furrows his eyebrows, hands on his hips. he doesn't necessarily appreciate her words but he knows that he deserves her mean streak. "shut up. you know i'm not like that."

"yeah, now more than ever," she laughs dryly, muttering under her breath as she turns away. "can't believe i kissed you back."

logan tilts his head. "sorry, what was that?"

"i said i can't believe that i kissed you back, you big dumb fucking idiot," she scolds, turning back to him. "i can't believe that i even thought you genuinely liked me back! well, now i know."

"know what?" yes, he is playing dumb. but it seems like the better option to go with rather than having to look her in the eye and crumble at the thought of them being together.

"that i'm just one of your girls," she sighs, throwing her arms into the air slightly. she shakes her head with a small smile on her face. "you think you know someone."

hearing her say that made logan feel guiltier. he genuinely does like her. days leading up to this trip, he couldn't get her out of his mind. all he could think of was holding her hand and doing everything he swore he wouldn't be caught doing with somebody until he was much older.

he would find himself lying awake at 2am thinking of her and all the places that he wants to bring her to. she makes him want to settle down and that thought scares him.

"for the record, i never want to talk to you again after this trip," she scoffs, stepping up towards the villa. she grabs her phone from the patio table and aggressively slides the glass door open. "i don't know who you think you are kissing me and then pretending like it didn't happen. i'm not going to allow myself to be one of the girls you fuck around with, logan. i'm not playing your games."

"oh, so you really messed up big time."

it's 5am. everybody but her is gathered at the dining table of their villa, wide awake from the coffee they decided to consume at midnight at the resort cafe.

oscar and lily arrived first, finding logan sitting on the front porch steps with his head in his hands in damn near tears. lily stepped up and asked him if something bad had happened and he tried his best to recount their interaction to the couple.

twenty minutes later, xyriel and leia joined them in hushed whispers and chips on the table. they've been here ever since.

"i know," logan rolls his eyes. "ugh, why did i kiss her? i never should have kissed her!"

"actually," xyriel perks up. "why did you kiss her?"

"have you looked into her eyes? i swear they're hypnotising!" logan tries to contain his yell, afraid that he might be the one to wake her from her slumber. "she was practically asking me to kiss her!"

"i hope you realise how fucking stupid you sound right now." logan follows the sound of the voice, seeing lily sipping on her water with her chin tucked in and eyes shot up to glare at him. "are you telling me that you're blaming her for all of this when you're the one that's been avoiding her?"

"no," logan whines, throwing his head back. he rubs his face roughly then drops his elbows against the wooden material. "god, she's just so pretty. i couldn't hold myself back from kissing her."

oscar raises an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with xyriel that's already giggling audibly. "you? have no self control?" he gasps. "no way."

"have you kissed her?" logan scolds, lifting his head to furrow his eyebrows at oscar. "exactly! you don't know what it's like! when i kissed her, i thought 'oh, god, i'm kissing my best friend'. and then she kissed me back! and i swear to you, our entire future played in my mind! like i knew i wanted to spend the rest of my life with her!"

"you're in love with her?" leia's eyes widen. "are you kidding?"

"i'm not in love with her!"

"i'm pretty sure you are," xyriel points out knowingly, slamming her palm on the table. "nobody thinks of the future with somebody if they're not in love with them!"

"is that why you hurled right after you kissed her?" lily frowns, disgust washing over her face. "you got scared at the thought of settling down with a girl?"

"not just any girl, come on!" logan cries, slamming the table softly. he pushes himself up, the seat dragging against the ground as he stands. "my best friend!" he turns to oscar. "our best friend! we literally had her period cycle memorised at some point!"

"gross." leia turns to oscar with a questioning stare.

"hey, we lived in her house. it was impossible to not know," oscar defends himself, rolling his eyes. "you're telling me you can't tell when she's got her period?"

"i guess you have a point."

"focus!" logan cries, throwing his head back in frustration. "guys, we're in the same sport too! what if that gets in the way? we both have our hopes and dreams - i can't risk that getting in the way of what we have."

"i hardly think that would be an issue," xyriel shrugs simply. "you're both adults. you should be able to put that aside and not let it affect a relationship."

"it could be worse," oscar agrees. "she could be an actress."

"what's that got to do with anything?" lily raises her eyebrow in confusion.

"i'm just saying it could be worse if she had to be paired up with men she'd have to be in love with," oscar shrugs with a small frown. "but i guess it's not that relevant to what we're talking about."

"that would be tougher, i suppose," xyriel whispers. she points at logan pacing back and forth, mumbling something about how this is all too much for someone like him. "i've never seen this guy jealous."

"i wasn't jealous!" logan says, turning to them. "guys, what do i do?"

"mate," oscar laughs, pointing at him and gestures at his state. "you're twenty years old. you should know what to do."

"thanks, that literally doesn't help me. at all."

"racing heartthrob doesn't know what to do with his feelings? that's interesting," leia grins, turning to xyriel with a nod. "but if (y/n) swore you off the way she did, there's not much we can do to help you. only you can say something to her to make this all better."

"you should know what to do. you guys fought a year ago, right?" logan frowns, tilting his head at leia. "what did you do?"

"i apologised," leia grins, pressing her lips together. "dude, our situations are completely different. you blew her off knowing she likes you. we fought over a school project and participation points. we are not the same."

"she expects a relationship out of me," logan says. "probably."

"actually, i suspect she wants to kill you more than get into a relationship with you right now," oscar points out with a teasing smirk. "but do carry on."

"i just don't know if i can give her that! i'm not one to settle down."

"what was that joke about guys getting their heart broken once then making it everyone's problem for the rest of their lives?" lily mutters, turning to xyriel with a smile.

"story of logan's life."

"if i knew you guys were going to be this unhelpful, i would have just called liam and asked him for advice."

"mate, he doesn't... he's not good at the advice either."

"exactly!"

"okay, dude," xyriel holds her hands out to halt all conversation. "it's easy. figure yourself out before you talk to her. when you do, tell her what's on your mind. explain it to her, and then apologise."

"what if she still doesn't want to remain friends? i don't want to lose her. she’s my best friend.”

“a little hurt,” oscar frowns with a hand to his heart.

lily shrugs. "consequences of your own actions."

“good morning,” she greets, the hem of her pyjamas dragging along the floor as she walks into the kitchen and dining area. “you’re making breakfast?”

“it’s noon, so technically lunch. i’m making eggs and bacon,” oscar mutters, craning his neck to look at her walk in. “scrambled or sunny side up for you?”

“i’m not hungry, thank you,” she smiles, walking over to him. she tiptoes with a hand to his back, cheeks touching as a greeting before she circles around him. “have they got a kettle? i want some tea.”

“bottom door next to the fridge,” lily speaks up, walking into the kitchen. “good morning everyone. have you guys seen xyriel anywhere? her door was left open.”

“she left to have breakfast at the restaurant with that one girl she met last night at the cafe,” oscar scoffs, leaning down to give a chaste kiss to his girlfriend that approaches him. “good nap?”

“cafe? you guys drank coffee last night?” the small girl scoffs, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she fills the kette with water. “what time did you turn in?”

“seven thirty,” oscar admits. “anyway, got anything planned today?” he exchanges a glance with lily, who pats his back as she passes him to navigate the kitchen for the fridge. “we’re going to the driving range to golf right after this.”

oscar finally scans her face, frowning when he notices her slightly puffy eyes and hoarse voice. had she cried before coming down for lunch?

“i’ll pass, thank you,” she grins politely. “i think i’m just going to stay in today. i’m not feeling like i wanna sweat.”

“oh, i think logan mentioned he didn’t feel like doing anything today either,” oscar lies. logan is actually joining them for golf. “doing anything together, perhaps? everything resolved?”

“no,” she frowns. “why, did he tell you anything?”

“no,” lily answers immediately. “joining us for golf then, i assume?”

she nods tiredly. “okay. could you make scrambled egg, then? i’ll go get my stuff ready.”

“oh, i thought you were staying in the villa this afternoon. i didn’t know you’d be here,” she mutters, arriving at the rendezvous oscar had told her to head to. “where are oscar and lily?”

“what? i was told you were staying in the villa today,” logan mutters, scrambling to sit up. he watches her carefully navigate the couch from the other end, opting to sit in the single seater couch far from him.

he scans her outfit, tilting his head. “made plans today?”

“oscar and lily asked me to join them at the driving range earlier,” she says, nodding with her lips pressed together. “have you seen them around? they asked me to meet at two — i’m five minutes late.”

“i don’t think i’ve seen them around,” logan shakes his head, pretending to look for the couple.

actually, she’d been avoiding him all morning. logan knocked on her door after he spent the better part of two hours thinking of what to say to her. she never answered the door.

after oscar made her lunch and he walked in to get some food for himself, she quickly excused herself to go back to her room, hanging her head low to avoid his longing gaze. which is exactly what they predicted would happen.

so oscar and lily started scheming once more.

true, the couple had planned to go to the driving range. but they decided to push it back a couple of hours to scheme for them.

“oh, then can you just let them know i’ll meet them at the driving range?” she smiles, standing up and dusting off her shorts. “if they happen to come by, of course. see you at dinner, logan.”

“okay, wait,” logan sighs, chasing after her. “can we talk? i really need to talk to you, i need to tell you why i kissed you.”

she smiles tiredly, tucking her chin in slightly. “let’s just forget it ever happened, okay? we’re on vacation; let’s not make it dramatic.”

“no, i don’t want to lose you,” logan frowns, taking her wrist into his hand. “please, let’s talk. there’s a couple of things i need to get off my chest. you’re my best friend.”

she rolls her eyes, smile still stuck on her face as she wiggles her wrist free from his grasp. “i just need some space, logan. you’re my best friend too — i didn’t mean what i said about never speaking to you again. but just give me some time.”

“just let me explain what went through my mind.” logan gently guides her back to sit on the couch, taking her hands into his. “i do have feelings for you. but-“

“but,” she emphasises, voice shaking as tears flood her eyes. “that’s exactly what i didn’t want to hear.”

“but if we get into a relationship, it’s going to complicate everything,” logan explains, shaking his head. “first off, we’ve practically lived together for 4 years. and then we’re in the same motorsport every time — i don’t want any of that to get in the way.”

“then why did you kiss me?” she swipes her hands from him and places it on her lap. she inches away from him slightly. “if you knew us getting involved with one another would get complicated, then why would you kiss me?”

“because i really do like you. but i don’t want to make things harder for us. we’re already in a cutthroat sport, moreso for yourself,” logan frowns, looking down to play around with his thumbs.

“and i wasn’t supposed to act on whatever feelings i’ve developed for you. but i looked into your eyes that night and,” he pauses to sigh and looks up to mert her eyes, “i just couldn’t help myself. i’ve been wanting to kiss you since we went to barcelona.”

“then why would you parade around with other girls after we kissed?” she asks, eyes trailing down to his nervous hands. “you made me feel so small, logan.”

“i got scared. you know me — i’m not typically a commitment type of guy,” he explains softly, reaching out hesitantly for her hand. “but you kissed me back and i felt something brewing in my stomach. something i’d never felt before about anyone. i’m terrified of whatever this is.”

she shakes her head. “i don’t understand,” she breathes. “are you saying that i’m not worth settling down for? is that how you see me, logan? after all these years; you don’t think i’m not the type of girl anyone should want to be better for?”

“no, i’m telling you i’m cowering away from how intense my feelings are for you. and i’m scared of ever hurting you,” he cooes. “i don’t ever want to hurt you. i don’t want to be the cause of your pain because of my ways. you know me — i’m not the best at relationships. i spent half of my life with oscar making sure you only receive the best.”

“so are you telling me you don’t want to be better for me?” a tear falls on her cheek, prompting logan to drop his head in shame. “that i’m not worth the trouble?”

“i didn’t mean it that way. i’m just explaining to you why i did what i did. please, just let me finish.”

“actually, i think i’ve heard enough,” she lets a sob pass her lips, a hand flying up to cover her mouth as more tears start rolling down her cheeks. she shakes her head as she starts to stand up. “honestly, logan, we would have been fine if you just let this fade away. but after hearing what you just said, i don’t want anything to do with you anymore. please just leave me alone.”

“okay, it’s because i think i’m in love with you,” logan spurts just as she turns around. she balls her fists by her side, freezing completely where she stands. “i know that i like you, but it’s scary because i think it’s more than just liking you.”

she turns around, furrowing her eyebrows. “you can’t just say that and think it will make all of this better.”

“i know it doesn’t. but whatever i feel, it’s bigger than me. i know the type of guy i want to be when i’m with you. nothing has ever been so clear to me,” logan rambles, taking a step forward.

she notes his step, mirroring it with a step backwards to maintain their distance. “you just said something else completely different to that.”

“give me a chance to show you, and i swear to you that i’ll love you proper,” logan breathes out. “no more games, no more push and pull, no more girls. just you and me.”

“and i’m supposed to believe you?”

“if you don’t, then it’s my fault. i never should have toyed around with your feelings in the first place,” logan shakes his head. “but if you give me a chance, i won’t ever fuck this up. i’ll be all yours. you will get the best parts of me and nothing less.”

she raises an eyebrow. “and oscar told you this was the way to go about this situation?”

“he gave me some advice.”

“it’s good advice,” she says softly with a small smile playing with her lips. she bites on the inside of her cheek. “no more girls? no more games? you promise?”

“i swear to you with my life,” logan smiles, taking a step forward. he puts his hands on her shoulders with a soft squeeze. “i will be the best boyfriend. i am only yours.”

“calm down. you’re not my boyfriend yet,” she mutters jokingly. “with the stunt you just pulled, you’ll be apologising to me for years to come.”

“i’ll apologise every single day,” logan smiles, shoving his hands into his pockets. “can i take you out on a date when we get back to the uk?”

she purses her lips together, biting back the growing smile on her face. she toys with the hem of her tshirt and swiftly turns away. “i’ll think about it. see you at dinner, logan.”

“see you at dinner, babe.”

“stop that!”

— bonus

“i thought you said you weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend yet,” xyriel scowls, peeking through the small gap on the door that leads into logan’s room in the villa. “did you guys fuck?”

logan, his bare shoulder peeking through the blanket that covers the rest of his body, lifts his head. “no. go away.”

“i know you’re naked,” xyriel whispers, pointing at him accusingly.

“we didn’t fuck, go away,” logan whispers at her, wrapping his arms around the smaller girl to pull her into his body. “we just slept. you know, as normal wholesome couples do.”

“we’re not a couple,” the small girl says, eyes closed as she pulls logan’s arm around her tighter. “he asked me to sleep in his room last night and he brushed my hair until i fell asleep.”

“aw, logan, you big softie,” xyriel teases. “okay, whatever. i’ll leave you to it. we need to check out by noon — be ready by then.”

they bid their goodbyes to the older girl, leaving the room in silence. logan lifts his head, rubbing her bare shoulder. “good morning.”

she turns around, eyes barely open as she faces him. “good morning,” she grins. “kiss me again; i miss your lips.”

@myxticmoon @what-is-happening-helpp @angsthology @lfm98

[alicerosejensen]

Idk if you’re taking requests but what about RE6 onwards Leon with reader who is much younger (early twenties)? I think it would be sooo cute

If someone has requests, then I accept everything! I have practically no topics that trigger me, so if someone wants to see some headcanon, then I will gladly try to fulfill his desire)

To be honest, Leon was 36 years old at the time of re6, and if the reader is twenty… for me, 16 years is a small age difference because I literally know a couple with many children, who have an age difference of a little more than twenty years, and they live together perfectly. it makes me believe in love.

There comes a moment when, probably, it was worth realizing that the woman who was being chased for more than twenty years was just a love interest and beckoned only with her mystery and flirtation.

It's unpleasant, but Leon came to this conclusion almost immediately after Lanshiang. The last night with Ada put all the dots in their strange relationship.

It was as if Leon had received a sobering slap in the face that brought him back from heaven to earth. On the other hand, Ada will forever remain a part of the history of his life, but not of the future, but only of the past.

Some part of him wanted to take care of someone close, despite all the fear and risks. Every living being wants to love and be loved in return.

But Leon was still afraid to take risks, however, he was not averse to having lunch with a beautiful girl who did not refuse a free dinner.

At some point, a free dinner for you and a quiet conversation with a person, not a zombie for him, turned into a series of pleasant dates and gifts in the form of fruit baskets to your rented apartment.

You liked Leon, but you understood that he was…a little older than you… Actually, for as many as 15-16 years, but he definitely wasn't fit to be a father yet. The actual question was, what did he want from you?

Does he just want to have sex with a young girl? Well, then you let him know that this number will not work with you.

You already want to close the door in his face before he suggests the usual walks. Just talking. Without dirty hints or suggestions from which you could slap him a ringing slap in the face.

He is glad that for some reason you agreed (because you found him interesting yourself), and conversations with you bring him to his senses, making him believe that there is still something to fight for in this world.

Previously, your meetings were held in crowded places, but after a couple of months you ventured to invite him to your place and treated him to lunch. "It's not Italian pasta from a professional chef, but I hope you don't die of poisoning". Leon laughs, encouraging you that your food is more edible than what he can cook.

More and more Leon finds himself fascinated by you as a person. He likes to listen to how your day went, to see your smile, something blooms in him when you are next to him.

You really look like an angel sent to him by heaven. He does not believe in God, but it seems to him that a real blessing is in front of him.

Leon will take the initiative of the first kiss when he realizes that he is in love. This is the first time he's worried about your age difference even though he hopes you won't push him away.

He's a broken man. Therefore, when you reciprocate him, something inside him clicks, triggering like a switch. Leon will wrap his hands around your face, deepening the kiss, but will not go further if you are not ready for more intimacy yet.

He thinks you're too perfect.

He likes to give you sudden compliments and watch you blush. I think he will specifically shower you with various pleasant epithets so that you are embarrassed.

The tone of his voice is always filled with love. Leon likes to hug you from behind when you're cooking or doing something. However, he completely goes crazy when you start taking the initiative and, for example, hugging him. Then don't even hope to escape from his strong arms. "You wanted hugs yourself, but I refuse to let you out of them".

He seriously won't let you out. Instead, he will kiss the top of your head and stroke your back, holding you tightly to him, as if afraid that you will be taken away.

"You mean a lot to me." - The thumb strokes the skin of the cheek. - Tell me if you don't want any serious relationship. I'm often away from home, I'm much older than you…damn it, the last reason should be more than enough for me to leave you and my fucking feelings. I don't want to force you into anything, so if you're not sure or don't want to, then I'll understand everything.

You cover his lips with an uncertain kiss, hoping that such an answer will suit him. Pulling away just to press against his forehead while your warm palms hold his face.

This answer will suit him perfectly.

Leon's defender mode is clearly activated.

At first, he will come to your house to have dinner and spend time in your company, but he will constantly comment that there is barely enough space in this "cardboard box" for one person, let alone two.

A subtle hint that his girlfriend moved in with him.

He will help you move all your things. In fact, despite the vastness of his apartment, Leon admits that it is too empty, but hopes that you will fill the space. In truth, he wants it himself. Now he had a good reason to come home as soon as possible.

When you're not too busy, he'll distract you from your studies.

You can tell Leon a hundred times that you love him, but everything you do for him (even if it's insignificant little things for you) makes him love you much more. However, what he definitely doesn't want is for you to see him in a broken state.

Leon hates thunder and lightning. It reminds him of a traumatic childhood, pulls out the memory of Raccoon City, so he will leave the warm bed so as not to wake you up and go to the kitchen trying to overcome another nightmare.

The last thing he wants is someone to comfort him. He couldn't save a lot of people, he lost someone all the time and still can't forgive himself for the death of the president. You are his sun, while he is just a shadow. Leon is not going to pour out all the shit that happened to him on you, but you are just a real blessing that takes away his pain when you press your chest against his broad back, kissing the skin covered with goosebumps.

Are you so worried about his condition? Leon would prefer not to bother you, but the way you take a glass of whiskey from his hands, sit next to him on the bar stool, remove the bangs from his face to see how broken he is.

Tears are not weakness! You cover Leon's face with a lot of gentle kisses, hugging him to you, whispering various endearments in his ear. "If you need my support, then you will get it"

Taking care of him does something to his heart, but it's not something terrible. On the contrary, Leon wants to return this love to you in double size, so be prepared for manifestations of tenderness. What is completely normal and natural for you, for Leon is very expensive. In addition, you are the first woman in a very long time who stays with him in bed after sex, and in the morning cooks him breakfast, because Ada never stayed with him for more than one night.

And he is grateful to you.

"Will you stay with me?" - A request that sounds almost like a mantra when he sits you down on the table, hugging you under the hips. - "I know I'm old for you, but I want you to be mine. Tell me you want it to… Because if you want to leave later, I won't be able to let you go."

Now you are in the same boat with him, but we must admit that if this boat sinks, he will do everything to pull you ashore. Understand how you want. If earlier he could still agree to a meeting with Ada while your relationship was in limbo, now he belongs entirely to you in body and soul. Leon knows that you are too young, but he hopes and trusts that your fellow students will not become your love interest. You promised him.

He likes to give you gifts, but what he doesn't expect is that you will give him a wristwatch.

"Just a sign of attention. I thought you might like it, but you don't have to wear them if they're not your type".

Your gift is now always on his right hand.

Well, after a long relationship, he decides to put a ring on you and hopes that you will say yes. This is a risk he is willing to take, promising himself that he will protect you in case of danger.

[henrysglock]

So...How Old Is Jane, Really?

Following up on this post about some time messiness I've noticed during my rewatch of ST. Again, if this has been talked about before, I haven't seen mention of it. So...bear with me.

1983, less 5 years, is 1978. That throws an initial wrench into "Terry tried to break El/Jane out of HNL in 1974".

It means all this ought to have happened in 1978:

However, Becky also says:

Terry has had Jane's nursery put up for 12 years. That means Jane should have been born in 1971, which means Jane should have been seven years old when Terry broke into HNL, which aligns well enough with El in ST4 being 7 years old mid-1979:

Okay, so let's say Terry did break into HNL in 1978 rather than 1974. What's the big whoop?

Well. The little blonde girl in Kali's rainbow room was played by Clara/Charlotte Ward, both of whom were 3-4 years old at the time (born 2013, ST2 was released in 2017).

So it's either Terry broke into HNL around 1974, saw 3-4 year old Jane (1971), and has been mind-broken for about 7 years, with Jane being 12 years old in 1983...or Terry broke into HNL in 1978, saw 3-4 year old Jane (1975), and has been mind-broken for 5 years, with Jane being 9 years old in 1983.

Someone's lying here...or mistaken.

This begs the question, at least from my end:

What if I've been thinking about it the wrong way? What if there's more than one Jane, rather than one Jane and one El?

What if we're dealing with two different Janes, one of whom is El?

So...what if this blonde girl is some other Jane, a girl who's years younger than Becky's Jane (1971)? This girl would have been born around 1975, which is congruent with one of the newspaper articles El leafs through in ST2 about Terry and baby Jane:

"...culminating in the abduction of Ives' baby daughter in the mid-1970s."

1971 is not the mid-1970s. The mid 1970s is 1974-1976. If Jane was born and abducted in the mid-1970s, then Terry's break-in would have to be after that point. So...Definitely not 1974. It's not physically possible, and it's not plausible, either, given the dates I laid out above from Becky. It's more likely to be around 1978.

This is later corroborated by the newspaper article we see during Terry's dream circle, when she's retrieving her gun from the safe:

"...as a special inquiry into a covert CIA operation, code-named MK Ultra, has expanded the extensive details about that which has been haunting the nation for the past decade."

MK Ultra was revealed to the public at large in 1975-1976, which means Terry could not have been retrieving her gun to break in before 1975 while also having this article exist the way it does.

The newspaper shown in that screenshot simply cannot exist before June 11th, 1975. It is physically impossible, given that MK Ultra is mentioned by name. Terry could not have broken in in 1974.

Additionally, the fact that the article mentions an expansion of details, especially when paired with that the article specifically says "that which has been haunting the nation for the past decade", leads me to believe it may have been written closer to 1977:

...given that MK Ultra was officially halted in 1972:

...meaning that any article written around 1977-1978 would have been referencing about a decade's worth of material/the nation would have been haunted by a) an article on other non-MK Ultra CIA operations published in December of 1974, b) the Rockefeller Commission's report in 1975, c) the Church Committee's report in 1976, and d) the FOIA discovery in 1977—in other words, as I said, events from the majority of the 1970s, aka "the past decade".

This same text (though in a different article...what is this, their Lorem Ipsum? Look how they duplicated the right-most paragraphs in the pic below) can be seen in ST1 as well:

We can even see both Richard and Martin Brenner being named in these texts, both of which create a network of "Jane was born in the mid-1970s, meaning Terry could not have come looking for her before the mid-1970s" and "MK Ultra was revealed to the public in 1975, meaning Terry could not have broken in before 1975 at the very earliest", which means regardless of which Brenner you're reading about...Terry broke in later than the fandom has been assuming.

This leads me to believe, given a lack of solid contradictory evidence, that Terry did, in fact, break in around 1978.

This is corroborated by the accessory comic Six, which states that Terry broke in in 1978. Accessory comics and novels, while not strictly canon, have been known to have small canon details peppered in before those things actually appear in canon (like Will seeing what appears to be Vecna's mindscape in a comic released years before ST4).

Terry could not have broken in before June of 1975, and yet...fandom wiki says 1974. And based on what?

An Instagram post.

When the actual show explicitly says differently? This is why we don't blindly trust the Wiki, kids. It doesn't tell the full truth.

Canon says Terry broke in after 1975. Canon specifically says she broke in circa 1978.

Anyway, the real questions remain:

Was Jane 6-7 in 1978, or was she 3-4?

Was Jane 11-12 in 1983, or was she 8-9?

Will Jane be 15-16 come 1987, or will she be 12-13?

The answer is...yes! (depending on which Jane you're referring to)

Which circles me right back around to the usual culprits.

Which like. Let me cook, ok?

An age gap of 12-13 (actor age)

and 15-16 (character age)?

Plus, some other bits and bobs linking Nell to Jane:

Alice in Wonderland

Casting and Costuming choices #1

Casting and Costuming choices #2

I'm wondering if I wasn't more correct here, here, and here than I originally thought.

[modanisgf]

13. I NEED U (WRITTEN)

"yunjin?" you called out to the girl infront of you, the sight of her body tensing up hurting a lot more than it should've.

yunjin turned around to meet your gaze, "hi?"

"can we talk?" you ask, maintaining eye contact with her.

"sure but this better be worth it." yunjin says, to which you nod.

"i promise." you say firmly, making yunjin feel a bit at ease. you didn't need to know but she missed the sound of your voice, it calmed her.

shortly after they both made it outside to the soccer field, y/n taking a seat on the bleachers first ushering yunjin to sit next to her.

‘really?’ was all yunjin could think, y/n brought her to the soccer field?

“sorry, it’s just easier for me to think here it makes me feel at ease.” y/n says nervously.

‘oh.’

“i wanna apologize for what i said the other day, i wasn’t thinking and what i said was stupid. i hope you know i didn’t mean it at all, i just was on edge.” y/n starts, pausing briefly to take a breath.

“why?” yunjin says.

“huh?”

“why was that on your mind while we were talking about us?” yunjin says, her eyes stuck on the girl in front of her.

“i don’t know really, i guess i just don’t expect my relationships to last.” y/n shrugs.

“after heeseung?” yunjin asks.

“it wasn’t specifically him, i just don’t typically attract the right people y’know.” y/n starts, her hand moving closer to yunjins.

“except you.” y/n says looking straight into yunjin’s eyes again, making the blonde blush.

“i thank the universe everyday for giving me you.” y/n says, smiling.

yunjin laughs, “how do you go from fucking up horribly to saying some of the sweetest words ever to me?”

y/n looks away in embarrassment, “i planned it out this time.” she mumbles.

“you what?” yunjin teases her, she definitely heard y/n just wanted to mess with her.

“i wrote it out last night before i went to bed, i wanted to make it perfect for you.” y/n says, yunjin giggling.

“you’re cute, did you write that too?” yunjin asks, smiling harder at y/n’s red face.

“ok enough,” y/n groans, “are we okay?”.

“of course, i missed you so much… i even dyed my hair to get your attention.” yunjin admits, mumbling the last bit.

“really?” y/n says, her eyes brightened in awe.

“i think you look really pretty.” she praises, making yunjin stand up immediately.

“the bells about to ring.” she says changing the topic, obviously flustered at y/n’s comment. she didn’t think she would like her new hair this much.

“we’ll talk more later?” y/n asks, grabbing her bag laying beside her on the bleachers.

“yeah, we do have one more thing to discuss.” yunjin says giving y/n a small smile.

“see you later.” y/n says, her eyes locked on yunjin’s lips. she wanted to kiss her so bad.

fortunately for y/n, as she was zoned out yunjin placed a quick peck on her cheek running off almost immediately after.

“bye!” yunjin said, disappearing in mere seconds.

y/n just sat there for a moment, not feeling like what had just happened was real. her hand resting on her cheek.

y/n felt complete almost, her relationships were nearly all rebuilt.

but she had one more thing to do, ask yunjin to be her girlfriend.

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