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descendantsramblings · 29 days

Note

Morgie x GN! Reader where Reader and Morgie get paired up for an Assignment, Reader dislikes him while Morgie is just a pure little Goldenretriever who likes them and tries to Win them over

Win You Over

Morgie le Fay x Reader

Pronouns used : they/them/theirs

I wrote part of this at work this morning and the other half while watching a Spencer Agnew compilation, I hope that's fun for y'all.

Summary: Curse the professor of Magical History for not letting them choose their own partners, now they're stuck with an overly agreeable villain.

Warnings: Reader is actually kinda mean to Morgie, Hook teasing the reader and Morgie, that's about it though. Somehow the reader is giving me Edwin from dbda vibes but that could just be me

Word Count: 2.3K

Also,,,Until this gif I had no clue he had that tattoo, have y’all known about this??

Magical History is their favorite class. They genuinely loved learning about the past, especially in connection to enchantments and curses. The process of creating magical objects had them entranced, the history behind the things they passed every day excited them. Their best friend sat right beside them quietly passing them notes, the teacher genuinely liked them, they always made As on their work. It was a no-brainer, of course the class is their favorite, or at least Magic History was (Y/n)’s favorite class.

“Alright, alright. As you may see from the names on your desks, you have been given new assigned seats, this will be your assigned partner for this week’s project. Don’t you worry, after this assignment you will return to your old seats,” Mr. Cranston, a pompous and ever flustered man announces to the class as he wanders around his room. Waving his hands about as he speaks, “Of course this is the final project you lot will have until your final examination so it seems your seats shouldn’t matter much. I know how you kids are though, so fussy.” (Y/n) wanders the room as he speaks, their fingertips dragging lightly over different shiny desk tops as they look for their name, finding it in the dead center of the room. So their desk hadn’t been changed, perhaps the man knew how good it would be to leave their partnership together. Fay and (Y/n) always did such great work, no point in breaking them up, was there? From the corner of their distracted eye, they could see “Fay” written on the desk in his lazy scrawl, calming that little anxious voice that ate at the back of their mind. This would be fine, they were sure of it. They had the perfect partner for this last project, it would be an easy A and they would round out the class with a perfect score. It was all truly simple when you could look at it that way.

Busying themself with setting out their supplies, (Y/n) barely noticed as a black leather messenger bag fell beside their feet with a hearty thud. Eyes flashing over to the bag and cascading up the long, toned legs it belonged to. “Oh,” they straighten up, looking at the boy with wide eyes, “I’m sorry Fay is sitting there. I’m sure your seat is somewhere nearby.” They tap the lettering beside their own name matter-of-factly as they speak, smiling up at him in a way that was nearly cocky. He lets out a laugh that they’re pretty sure would count more so as a giggle, “No uh, I see the mistake. It’s my seat, ‘Morgie le Fay’ not just ‘Fay’, spelt the same I know.” He slides into the chair, smiling over at them in a way that wasn’t quite friendly but in no way was villainous. “Guess you’re stuck with me.” Their eyes drink in the boy, with his French tucked shirt and overly gelled hair, a mischievous air hanging around him. If he wasn’t friends with his little group there would be something almost intriguing about him, nearly charming, and they knew that. Didn’t mean he was intriguing to them now though, eyes rolling as they turn away, arms crossed over their chest, “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

His brows furrow, looking over the person sat beside him with a slight pout to his lips, “No I uh, I think you are. He said our seat partner was our project partner. You’re stuck with me. It’s an assigned thing.” They shake their head, eyes glued on the board in front of them as the bell rings, waving him off with their left hand as their right hand clicks their pen half-mindedly. The repeated noise makes an obnoxious pattern that has him nearly on edge. Looking for anything to make them stop, something to calm them in any way. “It’s not like it’s a bad thing, I’m great to be around, we’ll have fun. I’ve been told I make a great lackey, you can think of me that way if it helps.” And they hush him, genuinely hush him. Finger to their lips and all, as if he was a toddler or a yapping dog. Wasn’t he supposed to be the mean one? This was going to be a long week, Morgie was sure of that.

Class seemed to drag on after that. He couldn’t help himself but to cut eyes over to the student beside him, taking in everything his sight alone could manage to learn. His little glances were met with side eyes rude enough to rival Hook and Maleficent. What was their deal with him? Had Morgie been rude? He didn’t think he was, in fact he thought himself to be quite cheeky in his introduction to them. So what made them such an exposed wire? Perhaps he scared them? Their walls were simply up to evade letting him hurt them. Or do they take time to warm up to people? A test for him maybe? As a villain kid he had to win them over to like them, earn his spot as someone a royal could like. Morgie could do that, he was sure he could do that. Everyone liked him eventually, he could make (Y/n) like him. It wouldn’t be that hard.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

He doesn’t think he’s ever been to the Merlin Academy library. It was a nice room though, quiet with the faint smell of old books and oak filling the air around him. Warm, the room was so warm, he was shedding his jacket as he looked around, eyes landing on his project partner. (Y/n) was tucked into a corner in the back of the room, their back to him. For him to sit with them, he’d be hidden in a corner where no one could see him from the front door. His partner was planning to hide him, wonderful news. With less pep in his step than when the sorcerer arrived, Morgie makes his way over to the table, eyeing their stack of books as he gets closer. Eight books in a stack, sitting by their elbow as they flip through their notes. It was a studious display, extremely nerdy but in a way respectable. “Hey, sorry if I’m a little late,” he gives them a nervous smile as he slides into the chair they reserved for him. They let out a dissatisfied hum, barely sparing him a glance from their notes, “Get held up harassing some poor princess? Was her dress too pretty, needed some mucking up?” He frowns, playing with his hands, “No actually I got lost. I’ve never actually been to the library here, just the one back home.”

They look up now, placing their notes to the side of them. “You go to your library back home?” It was like they couldn’t believe that he read. Did they think he didn’t know how to read? “You,” he lets out a nervous laugh, reaching over to grab one of the books from their stack, “You do know I can read, right? Like, I am literate.” They roll their eyes, looking over at him with a blank face, “Yes I know you’re literate Morgie. I just didn’t think that you would be the type to read for fun. What are they, evil spell books?” He looks over the book in front of him, “Cursed Objects and Their Origins” written across the deep purple cover in looping silver letters. Was that really how they viewed him? He guesses he signed up for that when he started hanging out with Uliana. “No, actually I read a lot of mystery novels, or those little young adult romance novels where they hate each other at the start. They’re uh,” he traces the letters with his pointer finger, “A good distraction.” A sudden softness crosses over their face, looking back down at their notes as if trying to hide it. “I decided we’d do our trifold on cursed objects, it seemed like something you’d be into.”

He wasn’t, Morgie would’ve loved to do enchanted flora and fauna. He loved the outdoors, it was another way that he could get away from his own chaos. But they had done so much work to get the cursed object books, who would he be to tell them he wanted to do something else? “If that’s what you want to do, yeah, we can do cursed objects. It wasn’t what I was thinking but you did so much work already, so yeah. Let’s do cursed objects.” They look up at him, eyes flickering between both of his as if they were looking for something. An apologetic smile seems to find their face as they lean back, “No, I just assumed you’d want to do that. I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair of me, what were you thinking? I want this to be something we both want to do.”

They can feel their chest warm as his face lights up, sliding the book away from him as he leans forward. “I was thinking we could do enchanted flora and fauna. Things like the enchanted lake and Idun’s golden apples. Things that held power in nature, I’ve always had a thing for that type of stuff.” They must have been staring at him because the boy shrinks down, “But if you hate that idea, there’s no need to do it. I know this class means a lot to you and I don’t want to affect that.” (Y/n)’s brows furrow, how would he know that? They weren’t friends, they’d never actually spoken before that morning. Of course they’d interacted but it was more so just him watching as they dealt with his ragtag crew of friends. Morgie hasn’t interacted with them before, why hadn’t he? “How do you know that?” His face flushes red, looking down at his hands, “You uh, you always know the answers in that class. And you help other students with their work, you tutor people in it. (Y/n), you have the highest grade in our class, everyone knows that.” They bite their lip, looking at their lap with what he thinks is the ghost of a smile threatening their face. “I didn’t think you paid attention like that.” He chuckles, standing up to start putting the cursed object books back, “Yeah, you don’t really know me, do you?” “I guess I don’t.” He motions over to the stack of books in front of them, “Pass me those, I’ll go put them up and then maybe we can look together for the ones we actually need together? Unless you don’t want to be seen with me.” The tone at the end is teasing, taking a book from their hands with a smile. “No, I,” they stop, shaking their head, “Why would you think that?” He lets out a scoff, rolling his eyes, “Come on, (Y/n), I can tell you don’t like me. Don’t worry though, I’ll win you over eventually.”

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

Morgie’s dorm was cozy, they had to admit that, sitting at his desk with him leaning over them. Refusing to just pull up a chair so he could “see better” as they arranged their project across the trifold. “No the golden apple needs to be the centerfold,” He breathes, reaching over them to swap it with a picture of the enchanted lake. Mumbling something about how the story of Norse gods was more important than some stupid fable about some water. (Y/n) and Morgie were so close they could smell him, as if he was wrapped all around him. The boy wearing some sort of spicy cologne that they hated to admit was intoxicating, with a hint of something floral under it. His soap maybe? They couldn’t be quite sure, all they knew is they were shifting underneath him, trying to get away from the boy’s warmth so he wouldn’t notice the affect he was having on them. They were not meant to be so close, (Y/n) didn’t want to be this close. And yet, something about the comfortability made it impossible for them to ask the boy to move.

“The Enchanted Lake is the closest one to us, it should be in the center.” “It being the closest enchanted item to us doesn’t make it the most important, (Y/n). The story of the golden apple is the most interesting and it's the most attractive to look at. Look at how pretty centering it made our poster,” his hand softly tilts their head to look down at the project. And he’s right, that was the missing piece that the two of them had poured over for the past two hours, it looked perfect now. “Morgie le Fay, I could kiss you right now,” they breathe, reaching over to grab a glue stick from the pencil bag that rests open on the desk. His breath hitches, making them giggle slightly. He opens his mouth to say something, and the royal in his desk chair looks up to him, waiting patiently for whatever he has to say.

“Well isn’t this cozy? If I knew you had a date tonight I wouldn’t have come home, Morgie.” Hook’s voice snaps both of their heads over to the pirate in the doorway. He stands smirking, arms crossed as he leans against the frame. “Would you like me to go? I know this little date is basically one of your silly little novels come to life, I can give you space.” (Y/n) looks down at their lap, lips pursed as they play with their fingers. “You’re not funny, Hook,” he scoffs though there’s a playful air to it. “Oh but I am,” he teases, looking over at the royal in the chair, “So, (Y/n), did he win you over yet?” It was gentle, playful even in a way they’re positive Uliana would hate. They look up at him with a smile, meeting hopeful, hazel eyes. “He’s on the way to it, if he gets me an A on this project he might be in my good graces.” It was a lie of course, he was a hard person to hate, even if they refused to admit it. Mr. Cranston had done something right putting them together they supposed, this little friendship with Morgie was truly worth it.

#descendants #descendants imagines #descendants rise of red #descendants fanfiction #descendants x reader #morgie x reader #morgie le fay #morgie le fay x reader

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everybodyhatesmiddleschool · 4 months

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It has been six excruciating days since I was plunged into the Bridgerton fandom against my will.

I was minding my own business, watching YouTube compilations of the best kisses in TV history, when I unwittingly clicked on a video about Colin and Penelope, and I was immediately down so bad for them.

Let me be clear: Bridgerton was not part of my life before I clicked on that video. I wanted nothing to do with it; I had no intention of ever watching or reading that smut. And then, without warning, it swept in and took me in the night, much like Colin Bridgerton in the back of a carriage.

To say I have been lost in the sauce these past six days would be a gross understatement. The carriage scene is literally ruining my life. I haven’t gone to sleep before 1 a.m. since Sunday, and I have been over an hour late to work every day. Why? Because I cannot stop consuming that godforsaken scene — watching gifs of it over and over, reading y’all’s hilarious takes and memes about it, watching it with the audio descriptions turned on (🥵), watching it with the music removed (🥵🥵), watching Luke and Nicola on their press tour, watching, watching, watching.

Have I started actually watching season 1 of the show? Of course. Did I check out the large-print version of the first book from the library since it was the only copy available? You bet. But I do not care about these other characters and storylines. I want it to be Colin and Penelope on the screen and the page in every sentence and every scene.

And either fortunately or unfortunately, I don’t even have to be looking at a screen to be distracted by them — my daydreaming has never been as maladaptive in my life as it has been this week. I can hardly think of one ten-minute stretch in the past six days in which some imaginary scenario has not been taking over my brain. I want to be part of their world so bad — not just Bridgerton, but Shondaland. As is the case for 90% of all of my daydreams, I want these actors to know I exist. I want them to look at me with just as much awe and love as I look at them. So I might be staring at my computer screen in my cubicle, but in my mind, I’m on a press tour of my own that intersects with theirs. (I’m never the desperate fan with no life in my dreams; my idols always see me as their equal). I might be driving my commute in my car, but in my mind, they’re congratulating me about my own novel being optioned by Netflix. I might be brushing my teeth in my bathroom, but in my mind, we’re laughing together on Graham Norton’s couch.

But Lord, here comes that freaking carriage scene once again, inserting itself into my mind (pun unavoidable). I cannot get over it. I’m so stuck there that I’ve found myself wearing shoes I don’t remember putting on, carrying coffee mugs I don’t remember putting in my bag, driving a speed limit I don’t remember agreeing to as acceptable. There is laundry that needs to be folded. Bills need to be paid. Emails need to be deleted en masse without reading. But I can’t find the door that will let me out of this damn carriage.

I had a conversation with myself two days ago about how we might be able to adapt to this new living situation. After a few temper tantrums, I finally said, “Girl, if you’re going to watch this scene 1,000 times, you have got to find a way to make it a constructive part of your life.” So I did what any rational adult would do: I started writing a scholarly paper about why it’s so powerful — not just for me but, according to the internet, for a lot of women. And I have every intention of writing an entire paper about this … if I can find the time. I’m just so busy right now with consuming this damn scene.

Was starting to write that article enough to satiate my obsession with this scene, with this show and these actors? Of course not. So this morning, I started writing a spicy scene of my own, featuring not Colin and Penelope but two other vaguely outlined characters who I’m sure I’ll give names and personalities to later. I was literally sitting in my cubicle, hunched over my planner, writing down snippets of sexiness in as small a print as possible in case someone walked up on me and looked over my shoulder without me noticing. And I’m not gonna lie: this shit’s good. I’ve never written smut before, because I’ve never had enough spice in my own life to feel like I’d be able to do it justice on paper. But that imagination of mine — she’s a freak. And my mind? My mind has moved way past the gutter. It is now in the outhouse. It’s in the slop with the pigs.

It should have come as no surprise, but as usual, the act of actually writing down the jumble of mess in my brain has had the effect of breaking some of the spell. I was also forced to focus on work because of looming deadlines, and I currently feel calmer than I have since Sunday. But I am truly living in fear of June 13. I cannot go through this again, and I know that I’m bound to, because I know that what’s been shown so far won’t hold a candle to what’s coming. And if I get down bad any further, I will be deep enough in the ground for this to become my final resting place. I’m not ready to be buried, but it feels inevitable.

But somehow, despite my own wants and fears, and despite the fact that we haven’t even been introduced yet to the bedroom where Colin and Penelope are sure to end up, I am somehow already lurking from behind the window curtains in the corner, peeking out at them doing the deed. I know what I hope I’ll see: based on the excerpt I’ve seen from the book, they will be in front of a mirror — expressly because Colin wants Penelope to see herself in full for the glorious goddess she is, and she will look at her sexy, bare self with just as much pride and love as we viewers behind the screen will (but probably with slightly less lust than Colin, who I pray will be very loud about how hot she is).

I am dreaming about this scene, but I dread it. Because if it’s as good as the carriage scene, I will immediately be re-enscripted and sent right back to the trenches where I spent the last six days. I’m excited, but I’m scared. And I’m afraid of getting lost in the woods again, because I know that if I do, I won’t want to be found.

#bridgerton #polin #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #colin x penelope #bridgerton season 3 #maladaptive daydreaming #creative writing #send help #nicola coughlan #luke newton

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mysticofspades · 2 months

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Top 10 Moments in the Life Series

Okay, so like, a month ago or something, Jimmy asked his viewers to compile together a list of their top ten moments from the life series, and I put together my potential list right then and there when the video came out. Then I forgot about it for the entirety of a month and now here we are. (ADHD sucks sometimes TT). Since he’s already put out his reaction vid, I didn’t feel like putting together an entire video but still wanted to ramble some so~

10. Desert Duo on a Camel Together in a Red Desert

Frankly, this made the list exclusively because of biases. The significance of these two men wandering around a RED DESERT – red as in; covered in blood – on the back of some rideable minecraft animal is probably lost on any new viewer. Not to mention the Cactus Monopoly scene, with Scar giving Grian the monopoly over it while saying; “I know how you love monopolies.” That entire interaction pretty much ruined me. I haven’t not thought about it in weeks. I need help.

9. The AH-HA Bit

I don’t know if I need to say anything more about this. If the previous was iconic for its dramatics, this is iconic for the opposite. It’s just a bunch of men having fun together, laughing and making stupid little puns about a made up British tradition. The fact that Impulse, a very american american, was somehow bound up in this group made it ten times funnier. No notes, this bit speaks for itself. Insert funny AH-HA pun here.

8. Etho’s Fishing Rod Kill on Scar

Already one of my favorite seasons for a variety of reasons, Last Life didn’t need this scene to make it my all time favorite season or anything. But damn, am I glad it happened. The precision and calculations on Etho’s part is just– damn! That entire situation, no matter how it played out, Etho would be on the winning side. Like, it was either Scar dies and Etho gets a boogie kill or just not. Even if Etho didn’t get his kill there, Bdubs woulda still gotten a life and Etho could still kill anyone else. Either way, Bdubs would’ve gotten his life and Etho would’ve gotten his buddy back. It’s all just beautifully and meticulously planned out that I can’t help but plop into this spot.

(Yes, I recognise that it might not have been planned to that extent on Etho’s part, or IRL Etho’s part, at least. I am choosing to believe that ch!Etho totally did weigh out all his options and came to the conclusion that this was the best course of action and was confident he could get the kill and even knew that Scar would have the Enchanter on him. He just comes off as that type of character to me, is all.)

7. Scott’s Sacrifice for Pearl in DL

You cannot tell me that this is not one of the most iconic moments of the life series, ever. Scott standing over that pile of TNT, lighter in hand while Pearl, bathed in red and a bloody ax clenched tightly in her fists, watches, wide-eyed and hysteric, trying to desperately ask what’s going on or to understand or to just do something, unable to in the end as Scott takes his own life crowning her victor over the bloodbath that she had never thought would end like this.

And that fucking line?! “Tilly death do us part?!” What the hell, Scott?!

In conclusion, your honor, Tilly is still alive somewhere in the DL world and someone should rescue her.

6. Grain’s Stalactite kill on BigB / Ren

Alright, this is pure luck and I am so fucking here for it. It’s simply beautiful. The unplanned accuracy of a man on a bloodlust ending up only getting a kill on his chosen soulmate is poetic as shit (shit that just so happens to be really poetic, that is).

It’s kinda like the reverse or inverse of the Etho fishing rod kill. Grian’s pure luck and also not is what makes this scene so fucking memorable.

Not to mention both Grian and Scar’s reactions. Grian was over the moon, screaming and celebrating and being ecstatic until he realizes just what he’s done. And his little “except when I got married,” is all pure chaos and we live for that here.

Then there’s Scar, ever the opportunist, immediately starts looting the corpses. Silently. He picks up anything he deems valuable (which could mean useless lint and string, but whatever) and tries to bealine it out of there the second he’s done. I love Scar, honestly.

5. Scar’s SL Win!

This specific season holds a special place in my heart for being the only season I watched and stayed tuned in for the entirety of its run. So when Scar, the one I’ve been rooting for since 3L, happens to win, you can imagine my excitement.

It was so out of left field, too. Like, in the final battle, I knew for a fact something was going to take out Scott and Pearl, them being winners already and this spoken rule of no double winners and all. But between Scar and Gem? I’m sorry, Scar, but I definitely didn’t see it coming. Gem was on a mad one, killing or getting someone else to kill more than half the server and already being stacked on kills. It just fits, ya know?

Like, Martyn, Grain and Pearl all were crazy about killing their entire season, even on green they were kinda unhinged, ya know? (couch couch Scarlet Pearl cough cough). And it's not like Scott didn’t have a body count.

To be fair though, it’s not like Scar didn’t get any kills either, it was just more…. Discrete? Unintentional. His kill on Bdubs and his accidental shot on Gem were both not of his own volition.

The idea that what it took for Scar to win was to completely give up on making friends is poetic as shit.

First season, he had an ally, a friend, a comrade, one whom he betrayed then gave his life for.

Next season, he tried and tried and tried again to make friends, almost as if chasing that same high he got with his first partner, but never managing to make any meaningful connections, and ended up shot in the back.

Then, he’s reunited with his partner of old and they get off to a good start, being the last greens and all. But as if with all things, it came down as Scar, accidentally, took their first two lives and his soulmate took the other.

Afterwards, he returns to his family, hoping to find peace and connections there. He finds it with his mother and brother and, sort of, with his estranged father. He leads a Scar-typical season of blowing things up (attempting to, at least), stabbing people in the back and swindling (only a little). It all comes to a head as his once-soulmate, once-partner-in-crime stabs him in the back, literally.

Finally, we have this season. Scar starts out looking for friends, he very much does. But the universe itself has other ideas. Bad task after bad task, Scar is left almost entirely isolated from the rest of the server. The backstabber of a soulmate offers him a home but he cannot take it (as per rules he made up about his task). Then, somehow, somewhere, he sees those words, “She’s dead, Scar, you won.”

It’s all just beautiful honestly.

4. “It was just a prank, Scar!”

The beginning of it all. This little prank led to so much that it deserves to be in the top5 of every list out there, in my opinion anyway. Like, Grian randomly happening across a creeper out in broad daylight then proceeding to choose to lead it all the way into a group of distracted people in the name of a prank which leads into a season-long, dramatic, all-defying alliance of which leads to a climactic battle surrounded by the disheveled and war torn lands they once ruled over together (we’ll get to this in a minute, don’t worry), chants of the ghosts of the lives they ended to get to where they are, screaming in their ears to fight and to kill and having to brutally take the last life of the person he’d once vowed his own to Al because of what? A prank?! Seriously?!– is that not the best shit you’ve heard all day? Or all week? Hell, maybe your entire fucking life???

I sure think so.

3. Liz’s Final Death in SL

I realize that this is my only Tim related moment on the list and it was Tim who had asked for the list in the first place, but whatever. There are plenty of cool ass (and miserably funny) Tim moments out there (ones I might plop into the honorary mentions bit) but this is honestly my favorite and the one I think makes the cut compared to the others on here.

Anyhow. Onto Liz taking Tim’s place as first out.

I watched Liz’s POV late, can’t remember if it was because she uploaded late or someone else uploaded and I forgot to get back to it afterward– I dunno. I saw hers late and thus already knew she was going to die first, so, unfortunately, I didn’t get to live it through her eyes first, quite sad I know. Point is, I fucking. Nearly. Cried.

Like, not only was Liz’s whole arc in the season quite sad already, with the whole, “I wish everyone were here,” and her attempt at cheering herself up ending up so horribly, I knew beforehand that something awful was going to have to happen to sum up all her season-long misery. Dying in the midst of an attack, her only proper attack really, with an ender-pearl sitting untouched in her hotbar, was not the way I thought that would happen.

And something I didn't expect even more?? Her dying first??? Yeah, no, it was definitely not on my SL Bingo Card, that’s for sure. It was just so out of nowhere and yet, it also wasn’t? How do I explain? Like, Liz’s whole season was going from one misfortune to another, bad decision to another and it just kept piling on, until, well– you know.

Tim’s seasons are usually like that, no? Bad decisions followed by the universe itself hating on him followed by pure bad luck. Pretty much any Timmy Life Series season honestly.

I don’t think I’m doing this scene– this event justice. Timmy went out first every season for 4 seasons in a row. then Lizzie waltzes on in for the second time, suffers a bunch in her episodes, tries to kill Scott (a well-known no-no if you want to live) and then dies. First.

Beautiful and iconic; that’s LDShadowLady for you.

(I realize I should probably talk about Tim some more, given that this is the only Jim-related moment on here, but eh. This segment is too long already. I’ll talk about some other Jim moments later.)

2. Scar’s Water Bucket Clutch

This moment proved to me that putting Grian and Scar together in a life series makes a seriously underrated but totally fairly rated duo. Like, in one season they managed to keep a whole ass, proper, monopoly going for at least, like, 2(?) whole sessions, Grain managed that stalactite kill I talked about already and then Scar does this shit??

I just– there’s a reason these guys got so fucking close to winning and never teamed up, volentairily, ever again. Had they teamed up again, and wanted to actively work together and actually win this shit, they totally could. There is a fucking reason both of them are individually winners now and I’m so shitting here for it.

Onto more specific things; Scar is a mad man and I love him for it. He saw Etho burning a couple of pandas (I apologize; a couple of jellies) and was just, “screw you Giran, those pandas need me,” and he went.

Grian’s reaction going from severely panicked to immeasurable pride is just beautiful (lots of things are beautiful, shut up).

When I tell you I replayed this shit non-stop until all the dopamine this scene could provide my ADHDed brain could be sucked up dry until it was drier than the driest of dry prunes you’ve ever seen on a hot ass summer afternoon, I mean it with every ounce of my being.

With that said; second place it shall be forevermore~

1. Cactus Ring

I mentioned this earlier and I don’t think anyone is necessarily surprised judging by all my other picks thus far, yeah?

Everyone’s heard of the beginning of the end. Well this feels a lot like the opposite of that. The end of the beginning, ya know? Third life’s the beginning, where everything began, where everything and everyone got established (well mostly everyone) and it’s where everything started. The cactus ring, to me, marks the end of the beginning. As if to say, “the beginning is over. We all know what we’re doing from now on, the trials are over and the bloodlusts and betrayals have already begun, let them continue (forevermore~).”

It’s a red mark (of blood) in the sand from where they began to where they’ll continue to go. It's the end of an era, the beginning of another, the continuation of a story left unfinished. It’s everything and nothing and I’m making no sense–

My point in all this is that this moment is iconic and deserves top 2, at minimum, on any and all lists of this kind. I accept none otherwise (not really :P).

…I feel like I spoilt myself a little my gushing about these guys earlier and now I don’t really have all that much to say–

Honorary Mentions!

1 - Tim’s final LimL death.

What the hell, dude? Talk all that crap to what? Trip off your own fucking Bad Boys Bread Brige™? Timmy, Timmy, Timmy.

Joel and Grain’s, and even Pearl’s, reactions were awesome btw!

2 - Grain and Scar’s Sing-Along!

It’s a desert duo moment, I don’t know what you want from me.

3 - Tim Killing Liz in SL

If I’m not mistaken, this is, like, Tim’s only kill that season and it being completely accidental and the fact that he feels horrible for it makes this moment comedy gold.

4 - Grain’s Triple Kill in 3L

This set the stage for many, many kills to come, and the excessive use of TNT minecarts can also be pinned back here, which is awesome of course.

5 - Etho’s Washed Up?!

This was originally on the list but because of (Scar-related) changes, it no longer is. It's awesome though so I put it down here. I fucking love this shit, dude. Cleo and Budubs’ back and forth and Etho just like, “I knew it guys, I really am washed up,” is just great.

6 - Mumbo’s Death in the Nether in SL

Mumbo is awesome and kinda not all there sometimes. This just so happens to be a moment of the latter, is all. Love him.

7 - Joel and Liz’s Romance in SL

I love these two interacting just casually. They’re super sweet and I just– I love seeing couples just doing normal things, like playing a game they both like together and just having fun, ya know? Whether that be with a little flirting or not, it’s fun to watch.

Alternatively; the Joel and Liz are trying to flirt in LL with Scar awkwardly there in the background.

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apocalypseornaw · 10 months

Text

Real or Not (Pt 2/5)

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Just as you're beginning to feel like you overreacted the biggest challenge yet gets thrown your way

@lacilou s idea

You sang lightly along with your Playlist, Kaleo cranking through the Bluetooth speaker you'd hooked your phone up to as you worked through the stack of lore books the boys had stored in the small room just outside of the "dungeon" as they called it. They'd gone on a supply run into town and despite Dean asking you to tag along you'd chosen to instead stay behind at the bunker.

A couple weeks had passed since that day you'd overheard him and Sam talking about Camila. You'd been more careful of announcing your presence coming into rooms hoping to not walk into the middle of any more reminiscing. A part of you hoped Dean hadn't noticed any change in you while another part of you was nearly desperate for him to notice, to soothe your worries.

You let out a louder sigh than you'd meant to, noticing the legal pad in front of you was still blank despite the fact that you'd come in here with intentions to gather more information for the hunters journals you and Sam had been compiling to make assisting other hunters easier. "That thing say something bad to you? Cause I'll kick its ass" your eyes flew up to where Dean was now leaned against the doorframe watching you.

A small smile slipped onto your face "How long you been there?" He shrugged "Long enough to see that you looked like someone kicked a black kitten in front of you" you tried to look genuine when you said "Nothings wrong Dean" he nodded slowly "You sure?" "Of course" he smiled before walking closer, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips he tapped his knuckles against the legal pad before playfully saying "You hurt my girl's feelings again I'll set your ass on fire" you laughed despite yourself. Why were you worried when here he was threatening an inanimate object for you?

Yet again you found those three little words warming your lips begging for escape and yet again you choked them back down denying them the freedom to be released into the world. You did love Dean, you were in love with him but you wouldn't say it first. Take away the doubts lingering in your mind you knew him well enough to know the man didn't commit often, you were one of few lasting relationships and wasn't about to say it first just to freak him out.

You realized you were staring at him and felt the tips of your ears warm. Why you weren't sure considering you shared a bed with him and had for a while now. A smirk slipped onto his face before he said "Don't be shy sweetheart. You can feel free to check me out whenever you want, I'm all yours" your head flipped in your chest.

"I just fed your ego even more didn't i?" You teased and shrugged "Maybe just a little" you laughed and shook your head before pushing back from the table and grabbed his hand "Cmon I need a break. I'll help you and Sam put everything away"

You were beginning to think you'd simply over reacted to the mention of Camila. You had a few exes that you ended on good enough terms with that you still spoke to them occasionally and would back them up if need be on a hunt. While it was true none of them came near holding a candle to Dean you had cared about a couple of them.

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

You hissed lightly when Sam touched the ragged slice across your arm. Fucking ghouls, you hated the little scavengers. "Easy Y/N" he comforted, the antiseptic cold as he applied it to your wound.

Dean looked up from across the room, the slice across his cheek somehow added to his looks. It wasn't fair he always looked amazing, even when he was bloody "Sweetheart I haven't seen someone take down ghouls that fast in a while" you grinned slightly "Coming from one of you two I'll take that as a compliment"

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

Once Sam was through throwing a couple stitches in your arm he placed a bandage over it and smiled over your shoulder at you "all patched up" you nodded "Thanks Sam" He wished you and Dean goodnight then headed for the door that connected the two motel rooms you'd gotten.

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

Normally the three of you would just drive back to the bunker but considering you'd had to make the drive down to New Orleans to help a coven with their ghoul problem it had been a unanimous decision to crash halfway back for the night.

When you suggested just getting one room Sam had shook his head "No, I am not risking waking up to the sight of you and Dean being handsy with each other" you had ducked your head from embarrassment but Dean had simply shrugged "She's gorgeous, what can I say?"

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

Once the door shut behind Sam, Dean raised an eyebrow at you "What's that look about dee?" You asked and he shrugged "Just thinking you'd be a lot more comfortable out of those jeans"

You felt a smirk slip onto your face "Oh really?" You held his eyes as you unzipped your jeans and pulled them down your legs, kicking them behind you. A smile worked across his face as he took a step towards you "Now let's get you out of that shirt and bra"

You laughed as he reached for the hem of you shirt "So I'd be more comfortable naked?" He caught your lips in a hungry kiss before saying "Yeah, you would but don't worry I'm gonna get comfortable with you"

When you woke up Dean was curled up to your back, his warm breath hitting your neck with every slow exhale as he slept. Your arm wasn't that sore considering although some other body parts were after the night before. A warmth spread through your stomach and lower at the memory of Dean's lips on your body, the way his hips had rolled into yours both of you clinging to each other, a solid chorus of moans mixed with the skin meeting had filled the room.

As if he could hear your thoughts Dean started to stir behind you, his lips finding your neck "What you thinking about?:" you smiled, leaning back into him "A gorgeous guy" he murmured against your skin "Lucky asshole" before his hands began to roam lower on your body.

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

You'd just gotten out of the shower and was getting dressed when you heard Sam's voice in the other room talking to Dean. You caught a few words like "Gotta talk to Y/N"

You quickly got dressed and brushed your hair before heading into the main part of the motel room. Both Winchesters snatched their heads towards the sound of the door opening "What's wrong?" You asked and they exchanged a look "A hunter nearby called for an assist" Dean said matter of factly so you nodded "Ok, what's the case?"

They exchanged another look before Sam said "Thinking changling" you groaned inwardly, the last case had been horrible. "Let's get on it. Who is it?" With one final look exchanged between the boys Sam finally said "Camila"

@lacilou

@saranghaey

@stoneyggirl2

@marimarvelfan

@roseblue373

@suckitands33

@backtotheshitshow

@jackles010378

@badassbitch-21

@leigh70

@diagnosedpsychosis

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #real or not mini series

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tmzrkstan · 1 year

Note

the idol!reader stuff eats so bad but barely anybody does it

I am particularly passionate about this type of reading. And taking advantage of the moment, I leave here an old idea that I never gave a chance to. ;)

nct dream (hyung line) working with ex idol!s/o.

•----------••----------••----------••----------••-------•

genre: idol!reader, ex to lovers (?), smutty, adult language.

•----------••----------••----------••----------••-------•

✭MARK:

Looking from a professional point of view, it was such a great opportunity. You could finally get to do another kind of concept, show other side of yours. Besides, you knew very well how much of a talented idol Mark was. Your team almost beg you for you to do it, them just freaking out with the attention y'all would get.

Even when you accepted there wasn't really a lot of meeting with your ex. Untill the MV shooting day at least. There you were, watching Lee from far while finishing your make up. He was receiving instructions from the director.

"Hey..." your voice sounded quietly.

"Hi!" his eyes turned out similiar from a lost puppy. "You look nice... I mean, it´s nice seeing you." he just got a short smile from you. "Your part it´s really great"

"Of course, you must think so since you composed it" he stammered a bit before correcting himself "No, I meant you made it a lot better."

Before any more chances to say anything the director made you two start the work there. Both of you acting the way you were supposed to. Inside, you were annoyed and still feeling a litle hurt, on the Mark´s side, he was feeling awful. He knew it was his fault that the break up happened. You were the most understanding girlfriend ever, since you knew what beeing an idol means. But you also got tired of waiting for your turn, to get attention. He lost weeks not even calling you while on tour, but you didn´t. Always texted and videocalled him.

After a lot of fighting you gave up and clean the way for him to focus just on that. Lee really tried to see as the best thing for you both but he was suffering every day since. His members made him notice who the jerk was. He smiled like a child on Christmans morning whwn you agreed to collab with him. It was the last chance and it would be worth.

Hours passed out, your ex complimented and took care of you all day long. Those who didn´t knew about your relantionship were surprised by how a gentleman he was with you, who just tried your best not to fall for his sweetness again. Especially when you found a letter on your bag during a pause.

It was his hand writting and his true feelings. Apologies all over it, confessions like that he writted the love lyrics of the song for you and that he never stoped loving you. Admitted he was wrong and childshid and was ready for trying again if you do too.

''Oh boy'' you thought as seeing how good he was with words while they were on paper.

The last ''Cut!'' was heard and you carefully whisper at him "We can have dinner, that´s all." you bet he was happy. "Better not wase my time."

"I would never dare to do it again."

✭Renjun:

Beeing in a relantionship with him was sweet, comfortable and lovely. But unfortunally this only was like this when you still a trainee. When you had a chance to debut it all changed. Schedueles, dates, you lost time together and all the fighting started. You just didn´t talked with each other anymore since the end. Until you worked together in a survival reality as judges.

Everybody noticed how you were always on opposite sides and skewered each other for your different opinions. There were even compilations of yours fights, that carried a lot of chemistry and tension, on the internet every week and the audience loved this intrigue.

Eventually, they ended up having to help the same team, which made them put their fights aside and gather even behind the cameras looking for a solution to help the poor trainees.

"I can't understand your point" you rolled your eyes laughing "Of course you never did." he huffed "It's not all about you, though you may think so..." you were discussing what would be the best direction for a choreography.

"You're so childish! It's obvious that this step is better! You take it, however, you lose your balance at a certain point and end up almost falling, if it weren't for him catching himself abruptly. Eye contact was present and you felt your mouth go dry and your hands sweat.

"You should be more careful!" he puts you back on your feet, still holding tight to your waist. "If not what?" he looked down at you "What?" you then repeated "If not what will happen?"

"I'm going to have to teach you a few things…how to respect your elders." "How?" He sighed, smiling with some anger. Took you to the wall attacking your lips aggressively as he squeezes your waist again and you lose your fingers in his hair.

✭Jeno:

Starting to date with your co-worker wasn´t a really a good idea, especially if him was another MC from the TV show you worked on. But who could blame you for not resisting to Jeno? I mean, look at him right?

You should´ve said "no'' the first time he asked you out, but was too late now. After a few months you two had a big fight because of diferences on toughts and were obligated to work together for at least five weeks more. You runaway for as long as you could but after a quick tour on Asian you had to get back. But it was clear that he wasn´t going to make this easy.

A lot of smiles and flirting talks run free during the meeting for planning the week and when you were on make up session.

"Just shut your mouth up!" you yelled as soon as the stylists leaved the room.

"Why? Need it shut for you to kissed?"

"I´m gonna punch just on the midle of your face."

"The face you love." he smiled all playfull.

"I simply hate your attitude and confidence, you´re not that all." you roll your eyes as you listen to him laugh. "What?"

"It´s fun... the way we were making out on that sofa a few days earlier and now you are saying this stupid thing..."

"You are stupid." he got up, walking to behind your chair and facing you through the mirror. "Really, darling? Only because we had a silly fight you think that?"

"You know it wasn´t silly" you sigh. "For me it was, anything that keeps me away of these beautyful lips it´s silly..." he pus both hands around your shoulders, caressing exactly the way you like it.

"Don´t...don´t touch me." you hesitate before spinning your chair to his front. "I´m not going to fall for your charm again."

"So I do have a charm." his high was cut in half by his knees touching the carpet. "You fall once, sweetheart." he blinked slowly before biting his lower lip. "Let´s not promise things we can´t deal with later, ok?"

The door was open after three knocks, reveling the hairstylist team. He came back to his chair, with a cheeky smile. Oh, he was so sure you would be his again, just in a matter of time...

✭Haechan:

You really didn´t wanted to finished things with Donghyuck, but unfortunately beeing famous demanded a lot. When you noticed your, just recent, relantionship with him was making Haechan a lot distracted from his work you felt guilty. With wich power could you make him risk everything if you got into his life few days ago? So hard, but you did it. Lied and end it all because of "mental confusions".

But here you were, getting ready to practice a dance stage with him for an award concert. The fans picked you two for it, based on your aparently "friendship", and you get bad to your side if you recused.

Very diferent from what you expect, he was normal around, at least for his general behavior. He joked around with the dance instructor and tried to make you laugh, he wasn´t awkard at all. However, you felt very strange inside.

Luckly, you guys were quick with it and finished the day earlier. You grab your things nd almost run to grab the elevator, the same he stops putting one hand between the doors.

"Oh, isn´t such a coincidence?" he pressed the bottom on the metalic wall.

"I guess..." you smiled weakly.

"I didn´t get why you so weird around me..." he sigh slowly. "I should be the one to be like this, since you broke my heart few days ago, right?" even though his words looked painfull he was smiling yet. "You really didn´t had pitty for me, y/n..."

"Haechan, I..." your felt like falling as the elevator lurched and its lights were replaced by a darker, apparently the emergency one. "What´s this?" you grabed your bag stronger.

"Don´t worry, this one always do something like it, just wait a few minutes." he put his back at one wall.

"What? Why didn´t you told me before?" he looked down "I ask the same to you..."

"Come on, it´s not the same thing!" you frowned at him. "All we can do it´s wait, i swear it happended before."

"Fine... but I won´t be listening to you atacking me or my motives during this time!"

"I wouldn´t do it." he shrugged. "Even hurted, I know you didn´t mean anything that you said." "What?" the man came closer "It may look like not enough time, but I nkow you well by now. You were concerned."

"About?" he looked up "Me giving all of me in this...what did you called it? Hookup time."

"You can´t be sure of that." you tried to get back but he grabbed you wrist "But I am, as much as I decide to forgive you for this." he put one hand on your cheek "Also sure that you missed me how I missed you..." And everything happened quickly, the touch of lips, the lights and the elevator coming back and the doors opening in Jaemin and Jisung's faces who watched everything with a shocked face.

•----------••----------••----------••----------••-------•

#kpop #kpop imagines #mark lee #nct #haechan #gn!reader #kpop reactions #jeno #renjun #nct dream hyung line #idol!reader #nct dream reactions #nct reactions #nct imagine

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becauseimanicequeen · 1 month

Text

4 Minutes Theories (Ep. 3)

In this post, I've compiled my theories from my initial reaction to the trailer and the teaser (which were kind of sweeping since the trailer and teaser didn't give me much to get super detailed about), the new ones I've written down after watching new episodes (episode 1 and episode 2), and some new wild-ass theories I've written in some scattered posts throughout the previous week.

Just like last week, I will go through my theories one by one. Let's see how wrong I am this time, and how (un)likely the other theories are. Like last time, I might develop some of my theories and add some new ones as well.

Let's go!

Pre-premiere theory: The moments Great sees ahead of time are moments that might help him redeem himself from a past mistake/transgression. (Unconfirmed)

Well, the first two episodes seemed to have a pattern where the moments that were reversed seemed to be reversed for Great to do them over, do better, do "the right thing".

In this week's episode, though, it seemed like Great was moved back in time so he could tell Tyme that he could see 4 minutes into the future (with proof to make Tyme believe him). So, perhaps it isn't so much about redeeming himself from past mistakes/transgressions. That could still be a part of it, of course. But his precognitive ability might be helping him move forward quicker (since time is clearly running out). Moving toward what, though? That's the question, isn't it?

Maybe to find a way to wake up from his cardiac arrest (I still believe Great was the one that flatlined in the first episode). Maybe he needs to find the information he needs to do whatever he needs to do after waking up. Maybe to just make the most out of his out-of-body experience (OOBE) before he dies. Or maybe something else.

Either way, I'm keeping this theory for now, until it's proven wrong (or right).

Revised/developed pre-premiere theory: Korn will do some shady shit to prove to his dad that he can take over the family business. (Unconfirmed)

Korn is already deep in the shit. And I have a feeling he will only sink deeper and deeper (until he's 6 feet under).

This man will destroy more than one person he cares about, won't he? He's already putting Tonkla through shit, even though he's doing it unknowingly since this idiot doesn't use his goddamned phone!

(I'm usually annoyed by phones in general, but they can serve a productive purpose too, like making sure you block a fucking cop's cock from entering your sugar baby!)

I have a feeling Korn will fuck Great over as well. Great is only the result of his dad's affair, and Korn is probably more interested in prestige, status, and money than Great even though it seems like they have a good relationship (at least on the surface).

Will it go so far that Korn kills someone? Maybe. He might not do it of his own will, but if he's under too much pressure or if someone pressures him to do it, it might happen.

It will definitely be interesting to see how far Korn will go.

Pre-premiere theory: Title is involved with Korn. (Unconfirmed)

Before watching the first episode, I thought Title might've been a brother or that they had a boss/minion relationship. But, Title is (most likely) not Korn's brother (but who knows how far Korn's dad has spread his seed...). There's still a possibility he is (or will be) working for Korn. Or, perhaps Title's dad (whom he mentioned in the 2nd episode) is one of the shareholders, and Title will get involved with Korn for that reason.

Anyway, I'm keeping this theory for now.

Pre-premiere theory: Tonkla has a target on his back. (Unconfirmed)

This theory was based on the background of the poster for Fuaiz/Tonkla, and I still believe it's a possibility.

How will Korn react when he finds out Tonkla is hooking up with a cop? How will Fasai react when she finds out Korn has a sugar baby (if she doesn't already know, which I have a feeling she does)? How will Fasai (or her dad) react when she realizes Korn's sugar baby is hooking up with a cop? How will Win react when he finds out Tonkla's sugar daddy is managing illegal gambling sites? How will Win react when he finds out Tonkla has beaten the shit out of someone? (I mean, if Win even survives that long.)

I don't think all of them will target Tonkla, but there's definitely a possibility that Korn and Fasai (and potentially Fasai's dad) will want Tonkla gone/silenced/killed while Win might try and get information about Korn out of Tonkla.

Either way, I need Tonkla to come winning out of this, even if it means bashing other people's heads in to protect himself.

Pre-ep. 2 theory: Tonkla will betray Korn. (Unconfirmed)

I won't call Tonkla hooking up with Win a betrayal. Just like I didn't see it as a betrayal when Korn was with Fasai. There might be feelings involved for Tonkla and Korn, but they both know Tonkla is just a side piece (Tonkla even asked himself why he allowed himself to be treated this way, which means Korn has ignored him more than once in the past).

I won't call this theory confirmed until I have an actual betrayal. And I'm rooting for a betrayal. I don't really care if he reveals all of Korn's dirty laundry to Win or if he ends up beating the shit out of Korn with a rock. I just want him to fuck shit up.

Pre-premiere theory: Win is battling some contrasting, opposing forces (internal and/or external). (Unconfirmed)

This theory was based on the background of the poster for JJay/Win. I solely based it on the red and green contrasting colors.

Last week, after finding out he works for the police, I thought that perhaps the contrasting forces he's battling are his attachment/feelings for Tonkla and his duty to uphold the law.

After this week's episode, there's also the ethically ambiguous action of getting involved with the brother of the murder victim you're investigating (well, not officially anymore, but still). Will Win be able to keep his situationship with Tonkla separate from his duty as a cop or will he continue to go rogue to keep his promise to Tonkla?

Also, there's still the possibility that Tonkla might kill someone. What will Win do if/when he finds out? Will he have trouble deciding between protecting Tonkla or arresting him?

In other words, I need more to label this theory as confirmed.

Pre-premiere theory: Den has a situationship with Korn. (Unconfirmed)

I'm keeping this theory only because I want to see Bas and Job together. This is such a delulu dream of mine.

But...

What if Korn goes to the hospital to get the wound on his neck fixed? What if he runs into Den there?

If I can't have Korn and Den together, can I at least have Bas and Job in the same frame? Please. And, thank you.

I will keep being delulu about this until I get it (and probably even when there's not even a snowball's chance in hell that they'll hook up).

Pre-ep. 3 theory: Dome is Tonkla's brother. (Unconfirmed)

This theory is based on several timelines happening in the series (at least two, anyway). However, there might've been evidence in this episode that points to it not being possible for this theory to be true (seeing how Tyme said he was asked by Great to check in on Dome at the hospital). So, maybe not...

I don't know...

I'll have to write my timelines posts first. So, when I get some time after the Olympic Games have ended, I will expand on this theory (as well as the parallel timelines).

Pre-premiere theory: Fasai is the other character with a condition similar to Great’s (alternatively, it's Tyme). (Unconfirmed)

This won't happen. The only reason I'm keeping this theory is because I need the show to prove to me that Fasai doesn't have precognitive abilities so I can label this as wrong and move on.

Pre-ep. 3 theory: Tyme has a precognitive ability similar to Great’s (or might develop one). (Unconfirmed)

I've been dilly-dallying about this since I saw the trailer, but I didn't write it down until last week. That's only because I believe it one second only to not believe it the next. (This is a good example of how this show is fucking with my head. I love it, even though it's annoying.)

But, I will keep this theory because of the way Tyme's eyes caught Great when Great was sitting silently in the hospital in last week's episode as well as this moment from the teaser:

There's definitely something going on with Tyme, as if he can feel his way toward Great or something. (Perhaps a connection through a heart transplant?)

Come on, show. Prove me wrong (or right).

And, if I spin off on how he might've developed an ability of his own...

Wild-ass pre-ep. 2 theory: Tyme will have a near-death experience and develop his own precognitive ability. (Unconfirmed)

Do I think this will happen? Most likely not. But having both Great and Tyme develop precognitive abilities is delulu enough for me to like it.

Just imagine if both Tyme and Great are having OOBEs and are trying to either help each other or happen to unintentionally get in the way of each other's goals/changes? That would be bonkers.

Revised/developed pre-premiere theory: Fasai has a connection with Korn. (Unconfirmed)

Last week, I wrote that I would only confirm this if I could guess what kind of relationship they have (or half-confirm it since they clearly have some sort of connection).

My first pre-premiere guess was that she was Korn's sister (which, as soon as last week's episode was out, proved me way off). Then, my thought last week was that they have a situationship.

Fasai gets the pleasure of power/domination while Korn gets access to a higher standing, more money, more prestige, etc.

They have more than likely known each other for a long time because of their families, but I feel like it would be too obvious and boring if they were engaged (or even married).

So, I will keep this theory unconfirmed for now.

Pre-ep. 3 theory: Fasai (and/or her father) is in league with someone within the police force. (Unconfirmed)

In the first episode, Korn said Fasai was going to have dinner with an uncle Warit. In this week's episode, Nan found the name of a Warit on the papers in the safe.

It said he was a Lt. Gen., which, to be fair, is more of a military ranking than a police one, right?

Either way, I'm keeping this theory for now because I might be onto something.

Revised/developed pre-premiere theory: Great is having an out-of-body experience. (Unconfirmed)

I previously called this theory a "dream world" after watching the trailer and teaser, but an OOBE is a much better description of it.

I'm keeping this until proven right or wrong.

Pre-ep. 2 theory: Great's visions of himself and Tyme are his present self's memories of their time together. (Unconfirmed)

This is based on the OOBE theory being true. But this theory seems pretty obvious to me if the OOBE theory is true.

The reason he sees those visions, however, might be because some power wants him to approach Tyme a lot faster than he did in the real past. And that could be connected to another theory I have (the heart transplant theory).

I will expand on this as soon as I get some time over after the Olympic Games have ended.

Pre-ep. 3 theory: There are different timelines. (Unconfirmed)

Not to sound like a broken record (lol), but I will develop this in a separate post when the Olympic Games are over. I will, I will, I will.

To summarize, I think there are:

A present-time timeline

A real past timeline

And a timeline I call the OOBE timeline (which is where Great changes the events based on his precognitive ability)

I will develop this in another post because I can't seem to get it out of my head. And I need to get it out for my own sanity, lol.

Pre-premiere theory: Great’s (Bible’s) tattoos have something to do with the story. (Because I refuse to believe otherwise! lol) (Unconfirmed)

Just like I wrote last week (and the week before): I swear I'm keeping this theory because it hasn't been confirmed (or denied), yet. That's the only reason I'm keeping this theory.

I swear I'm not keeping this theory to add this image to every post I write...

Pre-premiere theory: Great becomes Korn’s target because he can see ahead of time. (Unconfirmed)

I'm starting to get the feeling that this might be more possible the more I learn about Korn than I thought after watching the first episode.

As I mentioned before, I have a feeling that Korn is going to do some shady shit. Turning on the kid that's the result of his dad's affair might not be that far-fetched. Will Korn become so ruthless in his pursuit to prove himself to his dad that he'll turn on Great? And will Great be able to avoid it now that he has his precognitive ability?

We'll have to wait and see.

Pre-ep. 2 theory: Great has a cardiac arrest/near-death experience at 11:00. (Unconfirmed)

This probably won't be confirmed until Great wakes up in the present (which might happen in episode 5 or 6). Unless I've been wrong about this the whole time. In that case, I'll gladly tuck this theory into my failed/scrapped box (where most, if not all the others, will end up too, lol).

We also saw that the clock was counting down in last week's episode as well as this week's episode.

And that leads me to the next theory...

Pre-ep. 3 theory: Great has 4 minutes to wake up/get his heart to start beating again. (Unconfirmed)

Great has 4 minutes (well, after the 3rd episode, it's only 2 minutes) to wake up/get his heart to start beating again in the present before his brain gets damaged. Because the brain starts to get damaged due to a lack of oxygen 3-5 minutes after the heart stops (according to a quick Google search). Since Sammon is an actual doctor, I'm pretty sure the 4-minute mark is scientifically supported. And that's what I think is happening here.

My guess is that Great needs to find the information he needs/learn whatever he needs to learn/solve whatever he needs to solve before the time runs out so his heart can start beating before he suffers major brain damage.

Pre-ep. 3 theory: Tyme is looking into the illegal gambling sites because his family fell victim to them. (Unconfirmed)

There has to be a bigger reason he's doing this than just wanting to be "the good guy" fighting crime.

My theory is that his parents fell victim to the illegal gambling sites even though it's been years since they died.

As I think about it now, though... Maybe Tyme has something against Great's dad in particular rather than the gambling sites. What if Great's dad was the reason Tyme's parents died? Perhaps Great's dad covered it up, and Tyme's investigation into the illegal gambling sites is just a way for him to take down Great's dad and get some justice for his parents' deaths?

Maybe...

Pre-ep. 3 theory: Tyme is getting close to Great because of Great's family and their connection to the illegal gambling sites. (Unconfirmed)

I still believe this is true even though I think Tyme was a bit surprised that he got to see a different side of Great than he thought he would.

Pre-premiere theory: Someone will die/fake their death. (Unconfirmed)

As I wrote in the previous posts in this series on my 4 Minutes theories, this was pretty obvious from the start. Sammon kills characters all the time.

But, I also mentioned in last week's post that I won't confirm this theory until one of the major characters dies. Technically, Dome has already been killed. But Great reversed it, so that doesn't count.

In last week's post, I also speculated on who would be killed and wrote Dome, Title, and perhaps Korn, which I still stand by.

I might pass this as soon as a major character shows up dead, or I might not pass this theory until at least two out of my options above (Dome, Title, and Korn) show up dead.

Either way, I'm keeping this theory for now.

Wild-ass pre-ep. 2 theory: Great will get Tyme's heart (after Tyme is shot). (Unconfirmed)

This is not the Transplant I want, btw. But it might be possible.

(Disclaimer: I'm not a medical professional. I have no idea if this is medically possible considering where Tyme was shot and how far he might be from a hospital (since I know a body needs to be hooked up to a ventilator to be able to keep the organs alive if organ donations are to be possible). So, excuse my lively imagination, lol.)

I will develop this theory in a separate post as soon as I get some time when the Olympic Games are over. I have so much to say about this one.

Wild-ass pre-ep. 3 theory: The number 4 marks a character with death. (Unconfirmed)

I had this theory yesterday before the 3rd episode and added it to this post.

The number 4 (which in Cantonese is pronounced very similarly to the word "death") marks characters with death. Either actual death or something like a cardiac arrest (which can be saved).

To summarize what I wrote in that post, Those characters are:

The patient at the beginning of the 1st episode who has a cardiac arrest. (I still believe this is Great.)

Great, who is surrounded by the number several times during his OOBE.

Manee, who is lying in room number 4 at the hospital.

View, Title, and Dome who are near that 4 on the trashcan in the 2nd episode. (It might just be one or it might be all three, my guess is all three.)

And in this week's episode, we also saw the patient in bed 4 that Great had intubated even though Den said it might've been more humane to let her die.

Also, if they're playing with several timelines in the show (which I also believe), the number 4 might signify the characters that died in the real past:

Great, who flatlines (even though that might technically be in the present)

Manee, who Great hit and left to die

View, who might've been killed by Title if Great hadn't helped her escape from him

Dome, who most likely would've been killed if Great hadn't stopped Title

Title still has time to die (perhaps by Tonkla)

And the elderly lady in bed number 4 who will probably die anyway

Let's see how wrong I am about this.

New theories after the 3rd episode:

Here, I'll gather the new theories I have (to make it simpler for myself to find them next week) and add one or two other ones I've come up with.

I'm still thinking about the rocks in the 2nd episode and what significance they have, but I haven't made up my mind about this yet. I feel like the parallel timelines might be at play here, so I'll have to think a bit more about that and perhaps develop it in a separate post.

Tyme's choices in the real past are the reason Great is in the hospital having a cardiac arrest and an OOBE (the note on the tea cup changing to "Can you forgive me, Great?" might be a message from Tyme). (At the risk of sounding like a broken record again... I will develop this in a separate post as soon as I get some time after the Olympic Games are over.)

When the clock strikes 11:04, Great wakes up in his real past and gets to do everything all over again according to what he learned during his OOBE.

Results so far:

Total theories since the trailer: 31

Confirmed theories: 1.5

Unconfirmed theories: 25.5

Wrong/scrapped theories: 4

New theories after ep 3: 2

#ice queen holmes #4 minutes #4 minutes the series #thai ql #thai bl #thai series #my shit

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handers-time · 4 months

Text

Handers Gift Exchange 2024 Round-up!

This year's Handers Gift Exchange has officially come to a close!

We'd like to give a huge thank you and shoutout to all 20 of our participants this year. Congratulations to you all, for doing so well creating beautiful works for your giftees.

On behalf of the mods ( @dismalzelenka, @un-shit-yourself, @storybookhawke, and @hollyand-writes ), thank you to everyone who remains in the Handers fandom—in addition to authors and artists, it also includes readers, commenters, serial kudosers, and avid rebloggers! We appreciate all the love, enthusiasm, support, and cheerleading everyone did throughout this event. Everyone involved keeps the love of the ship alive and well even thirteen years after the game came out.

If you participated in this event, we ask that you please leave a comment on the gift you received, at least three lines in length! Participation goes both ways, so please give some praise and adoration to the person who devoted their time and energy to create a gift for you.

You can view the blog's tag for this event here, and the AO3 collection here, but below is a compiled list of all the amazing gifts shared over the course of this exchange. Please mind the tags and ratings as you go through them!

Invitations by replicatortrash for ghostbunny M!Handers | Explicit |

Summary: Garrett Hawke has been trying to open his home to Anders for weeks and it's been slow going. Is he keeping distance because of something from his past, or because Garrett is a vampire... or is there something else going on Garrett hasn't considered?

Mélange by dismalzelenka for Sulkyvalkyrie F!Handers | Explicit |

Summary: “I want Justice involved.” It was a marvel, Anders thought, how four words flipped his entire world on its head. “You what?” Hawke tilted her head, catlike curiosity peppered across her face. “Justice,” she repeated. “I want him involved.” In which Hawke confesses some secrets, and Anders and Justice both learn there is far more to Hawke than meets the eye.

The Short Straw by autumninfall for DemonicPersephone F!Handers | Mature |

Summary: A quick way to earn some coin while fleeing the Templars of Kirkwall. A dragon up in the mountains. Surely nothing will go wrong, right?

at the end of the world by PhantomsLost for barbex F!Handers | Teen |

Summary: “Hawke, no.” She shook her head and took a step back, both hands still gripping her staff tight. “You and I both know we don’t have a better option.” Tipping her head slightly in the direction of the looming Nightmare, she added, “Go. I’ve got this.”

Broken, yet Remade by Actually_An_Insane_Fangirl for PhantomsLost F!Handers | Teen |

Summary: Hawke may be broken, but that doesn't mean she cannot be remade with the gentle hands of a healer.

Lunacy by Sulkyvalkyrie for GhostGarrison M!Handers | Explicit |

Summary: Hawke wanted to wait another night, but Anders can't stop worrying about him...

Looking the Part by acesdesire M!Handers | Teen |

Summary: While visiting Chateau Haine, Hawke finds himself enjoying the party more than expected, especially with Anders looking so dashing in his formal wear. Infiltration can wait (even if Tallis might have other plans). He would much rather indulge in this rare and beautiful moment.

Some Guys Have All the Luck by barbex for dismalzelenka M!Handers | Explicit |

Summary: Watching Anders fight, powerful, controlled, turns Hawke on like nothing else. That's a man he wants to get on his knees for. And more.

Hunting by DemonicPersephone for Actually_An_Insane_Fangirl F!Handers | Explicit |

Summary: Nothing like a near death experience to make romance bloom <3

Chasing the Light by leonidskies for SalsedinePicta M!Handers | Teen |

Summary: Anders is having a bad day. Hawke, forever down bad, refuses to let it go.

Hurt Less by ghostbunny for PorlPoint M!Handers | Mature |

Summary: After coming close to killing the mage girl, Ella, Anders is in a bad way, consumed by guilt and shame and beginning to spiral. Hawke attempts to help him through it, while dealing with some of his own insecurities.

The One That Didn't Get Away by FactoryKat for winebearcat M!Handers | G |

Summary: Of all the things that could have happened to newcomer Garrett Hawke after moving to Kirkwall, picking up a date outside of a walk-in clinic wasn't exactly on his predictions list.

Healing the Healer by PorlPoint M!Handers | Teen |

Summary: Anders is seriously injured and out of mana, with only Hawke there to heal him before it's too late.

Rose Cottage by winebearcat for leonidskies M!Handers | Mature |

Summary: Anders reaches his 50th Name Day. He never expected to make it past 30, let alone have his happy ending.

ART: storybookhawke's piece for autumninfall M!Handers | G |

ART: notomys-mordax-blog's piece for ocean-in-my-rebel-soul M!Handers | G |

ART: salsedinepicta's piece for notomys-mordax-blog M!Handers | G |

ART: kittyopera's piece for acesdesire M!Handers | G |

ART: gevascloset's piece for factorykat M!Handers | G |

ART: moosu's piece for kittyoperas M!Handers | G |

#handers #dragon age 2 #dragon age ii #mhanders #fhanders #anders #handers gift exchange 2024 #handers exchange 2024 #exchange roundup #mod post

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kourtniwritesagain · 1 year

Text

Too Good to Be

A/N: First full-length RWRB fic! There’s some spice, but not too much spice to rate it anything but T for Teen. Also, this is going to be a three parter because I just couldn’t stop and it was nearing 10k. So here’s part 1! Super nervous, super excited, super gonna shut up now. Enjoy!

It's finally summer, Alex’s favorite time of the year. Summer means the cabin, no graduate courses, and, most importantly, Henry. His Royal Highness was able to get a full two weeks straight of no engagements. Alex very politely told his scheduler to fuck off when approached with anything that resembled an engagement during those two weeks. Alex isn’t going to allow anything (or anyone) to come between himself and Henry.

Well, except for Cash, Nora, June, and his father apparently.

Alex isn’t too upset about his family being around, they all adore Henry and vice versa. The Secret Service is always around, and, honestly, Alex is used to it by now. Plus, Cash doesn't suck.

They're all at the cabin by the lake, and everyone is in bathing suits while lounging on the deck after a long afternoon of boating and jet skiing. Henry is watching videos with June and Nora off Nora's phone and laughing, eyes crinkling adorably. Alex can't help but smile. Last year, Alex wasn't sure he would ever even see Henry again, let alone be at the cabin with him. So much has changed since then. Alex is Henry's official suitor. England has embraced the two of them wholeheartedly, including Henry's older brother. The Queen…well, she still sucks. But everything is practically perfect.

"Alex!" June calls, waving her hand for her brother to come to her.

He stands and walks over to the others, still smiling softly. Henry lets out an adorable laugh at the video, and Alex sees it’s a cat compilation video.

“I left my very comfortable chair to watch cats?” Alex asks, amusement in his voice despite his words.

“I-I’m sohorry, it’s just so f-funny.” Henry gets out through his giggles. Nora and June are cackling beside him.

Alex watches as cat after cat jumps in fright after seeing their owners with creepy realistic cat masks on.

“Y’all are too easily entertained.”

June snorts. “You spent all day yesterday giggling at British memes.”

“Oi!” Henry feigns offense.

“In my defense,” Alex says. “I loved every single one of them.”

Henry rolls his eyes, but there’s no malice. “I suppose I’ll be receiving a few in the future.”

“You’ll have one every day for a month, baby.” Alex winks.

Henry blushes beautifully.

“Alexander.” Henry admonishes, rolling his eyes.

Alex simply grins widely.

June reaches over and tweaks Alex’s ribs, causing Alex to squawk and jump.

“Bug!” Alex swats at her hands.

“Leave Henry alone, brat.” June chastises, a mischievous grin on her face. Henry smiles smugly, clearly pleased that June was on his side.

Alex scowls at all of them, including Nora because she’s not helping.

“Don’t scowl, baby brother. You’re too pretty.”

That mollifies Alex somewhat. “I am pretty.”

Henry rolls his eyes.

They spend the entire afternoon outside, drinking beer and wine, watching ridiculous videos, and talking of summer plans. Alex is happier than he’s been in a very long time. Supper has been eaten, s’mores have been consumed, and a movie is currently playing in Alex and Henry’s room. Alex isn’t paying any attention to it because Henry is currently kissing his way down his throat.

“You’re seriously good at this, has anyone told you that?” Alex asks, stretching his head to the left to allow Henry more access.

“You have.”

“Well, I’m always right, so.” Alex lets out a groan as Henry adds a bit of teeth.

Alex thinks he’ll never tire of this. Not just the awesome sex (and it was awesome), but just having Henry with him…and not having to hide it. Alex absolutely adores holding Henry’s hand while they go shopping. Alex loves that Henry will kiss his cheek during photo ops. Alex enjoys being able to embrace Henry openly. Alex still sneaks very handsy things at very inopportune times for Henry, relishing in the blush it brings to the prince’s cheeks.

Henry slides his hands very slowly up Alex’s sides, causing him to squirm. He feels Henry smile against his throat.

“Don’t think I didn’t see your reaction earlier.”

Alex tenses.

“I d-don’t know what you’re t-talking about…” Alex trails off.

“I think we both know that’s not true,” says Henry. This time, his fingers wiggle on their way down Alex’s ribs.

“Ah!”

Henry chuckles against Alex’s throat as he continues to spider his fingers along Alex’s ribs.

“You f-fuhucker!” Alex squirms and laughs, reaching for Henry’s hands. Henry avoids them for a few seconds more before Alex finally catches them. Alex is panting slightly, but he narrows his eyes, wraps his legs around Henry’s waist, and flips the two of them onto the floor. Henry lands on his back with an ‘oof’. Big blue eyes look in shock at Alex.

“Mistake.” Alex growls.

“N-Now, sweetheart…let’s not do anything hasty.”

“Nicknames will get you nowhere, baby.” Alex replies.

Henry blushes and opens his mouth to barter, but Alex is having none of it. Alex turns around so his back is to Henry and goes straight for Henry’s thighs, easily his most ticklish spot.

“Alehex!” Henry immediately starts laughing. Alex found out about Henry’s ticklishness pretty early on during the ‘friends-with-benefits’ stage of their relationship. Alex and Henry had been lying in bed after a thorough makeout session, still clad only in boxers, and Henry giggled when Alex had lightly traced nonsensical patterns across Henry’s stomach. Alex proceeded to find every ticklish spot on Henry’s body, which…hadn’t been difficult. Henry turned out to be ticklish everywhere, but especially on his thighs and hips.

“How you’re able to fool around with thighs this ticklish, is kind of amazing.” Alex comments as he rakes his fingers up and down Henry’s quivering thighs.

“Plehehease!” Henry begs, alternating between pounding on Alex’s back and probably grabbing at his hair if Alex knows him well enough.

“I do not intend to stop anytime soon,” says Alex. “First, you must be punished for trying to tickle me. And second, you love it when I tickle you.”

“I’m sohohorry!”

“I’m sure you are.” Alex turns to face Henry now, wiggling lower onto Henry’s legs.

Henry doesn’t say anything else but instead lets out loud booming laughter as Alex moves to clamp down on both thighs right underneath where they meet Henry’s hips, squeezing mercilessly. Henry is devastatingly ticklish here, and Alex absolutely exploits this. The crease where thighs meet hips is just as ticklish. Alex plans on spending time there as well.

“Oh baby, you are too adorable.”

“Shut uhuhup!” Henry tries to command, batting at Alex’s hands.

“Usually your royal commands are a big turn on,” Alex tells him casually, as if he isn’t straight up torturing his boyfriend. “But this one just doesn’t have the usual oomph.”

Henry babbles something about ‘dick head’ and ‘fucking fuck.’ Alex can’t help but laugh as he listens to Henry’s own beautiful laughter.

“You are the most ticklish person on the planet, I swear. It’s kinda good that England isn’t actively trying to conquer the world anymore. You’d be kidnapped for ransom and tortured into oblivion the moment the enemy found out how ticklish you are.”

“A-Alex!” Henry pleads. Alex knows Henry gets more sensitive the more Alex teases him with words.

“I know that’s how royals were punished back in the medieval period,” Alex continues. “They’d tie up princes and princess, and fucking tickle the shit out of them. Sometimes, guards were told to put honey on the feet of royals and have goats lick them off.”

“Shut the fuhuhuck uhup!” Henry whines through his laughter. Henry has caught Alex’s hands, but all the prince does is hold onto his boyfriend's wrists. Alex is now lightly stroking at Henry’s hips, scrabbling his fingers along the hip bones every other downward stroke.

“Maybe we could get the queen to start that shit up again! She’s still super pissed you’re gay; I’m sure she’d loooooove to have someone punish you.”

Henry turns redder if that’s even possible. Alex knows that Henry’s thinking about it, though. Henry’s thinking about being tied up and helpless while being tickled.

“Do you like that thought, baby?” Alex asks.

Henry shakes his head, but doesn’t say anything. Alex reaches behind himself and strokes at Henry’s thighs again. He loves the feeling of the twitching muscles, firm from years of Polo. Henry kicks out his legs as Alex switches back to scrabbling his fingers all over Henry’s pelvis and hips.

“They’d call me Katniss because I would volunteer as tribute to be your tickle torturer.”

“Y-You alreheheady ARE!” Henry shouts as Alex digs his thumbs into each of Henry’s hip divots.

“Yeah, but it’d be an official title!” Alex crows. “First Son of the United States slash His Royal Horniness’ Official Tickle Monster!”

“You’re incorrhorrigible!”

“I’d never go easy on you either. It’s hips and thighs immediately, right out the gate,” explains Alex. “I’d move on to your ribs next, then your back. That spot near your kidneys? Yeah, you forget that spot a lot, but I don’t.”

“Alex, please!”

Alex ignores the please and runs his fingers up Henry’s ribs. Henry lets out a high-pitched squeal, causing Alex to laugh loudly himself .

“Now that was an adorable sound. Can you do it again?”

“Why dohoho you n-never stohop tahahalking?!” Henry is starting to really lose it. Alex has been tickling him nonstop for close to ten minutes now. Henry’s face, chest, and legs are red, from blushing and the devastating effects of Alex’s fingers.

“Everyone loves to hear me talk.”

“I swehehear, I will get you bahahack!” Henry promises, giggling. Alex has slowed his fingers to nonsensical patterns on Henry’s stomach, allowing the prince to breathe.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Alex winks at him.

Henry shoves at Alex’s shoulder. Alex falls dramatically, but not before scrabbling his fingers across Henry’s thighs once more.

“Stahap!” Henry rolls in on himself.

Alex laughs as he stands up, offering a hand to Henry.

“Piss off.” Henry tells him, swatting his hand away and standing on his own.

“Don’t be mad, baby.”

Henry blushes again.

“Every time.” Alex grins.

“Fuck you.” Henry retorts, a silly grin still on his face.

“Any time, Your Royal Highness.”

#tickle fic #tickling fic #alex claremont diaz #henry mountchristen windsor #ticklish!alex #ticklish!henry #red white and royal blue #rwrb fic #rwrb #kourtni writes things

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thefrontofmymind · 1 year

Text

Unknown (matty healy x reader)*

WARNINGS: THIS IS SMUT, IF I FIND OUT A MINOR READS THIS IM TELLING UR PARENTS

a/n: this is a part 2 to all things end, this one is based off of the song unknown by hozier. listen to it, it's such a good song

You spent months living your life before you let yourself think about him again. You were invited to a dinner party at the Hann’s, it would’ve been weird if he wasn’t invited. You were thinking of it as something of a preemptive strike against yourself–finally thinking through and addressing your relationship with Matty.

It’d been easy so far, he’d been away on tour so things in your flat were like they always were, apart from the day after you knew they’d all gotten back when George showed up to your flat, asking for some of his things. You let him take most of Matty’s things, from a list you saw he was reading off of from a text on his phone–a guitar he particularly loved, some of his clothes he didn’t pack for tour, and his stack of full notebooks he’d compiled over the years. He let you keep all the records housed in a floor-to-ceiling shelf in your living room. You knew there were some especially rare ones in the collection, ones you knew he tracked down after years and years of looking.

You decided the best way to really digest everything you’d hid away in a locked-up cupboard in your mind was to write a letter. You didn’t go into it thinking you’d ever give it to him, but you just wanted to write down all the things you wish you could say to him, so you could start again with a clean slate of sorts.

Dear Matty,

To start out this letter, I should tell you that, even now, I think I’ll always love you. Of course you knew this from our last proper conversation, but it’s still true now over 2 months later. We did so much together, you’ll always have a piece of my heart, and I hope mine your’s.

I try not to think about you when I see the ashtray I made for you during that week of quarantine when I got really into pottery. It still sits at its home on the window sill of the bathroom. I try not to turn my head too quickly when I’m out in public and I hear a Northern man speaking behind me. I don’t think I can ever watch True Romance again without thinking about my favourite song, I don’t think I could listen to Fugazi again without thinking of that goddamn t-shirt you wore until it was covered in holes.

I never said it enough, but I’m still so proud of you. For everything. You are a true image of dreams being accomplished, you’re basically a legend in the making. I know you never liked me inflating your ego too much, but I hope you’ll take this compliment at least this once.

This could be misconstrued as a little selfish, but I hope you’re hurting as much as I have been. I hope you struggle to think of me, I hope you reminisce on the good times and dwell on the tough times. I don’t know where you’re staying at the moment, I’m still getting all your mail so you mightn’t have gotten a new place yet, so you’re probably staying with George or someone, but I hope there’s things that remind you of me. Like those cufflinks I bought you for the first of your birthdays we spent together or when you see a movie on Netflix you know I love.

I hope that when we see each other again, there’s not a shred of any contempt in my heart. We don’t have to be friends, but it would kill me if we couldn’t even speak.

Love From Me

As you folded it and slid it into an envelope you felt so much lighter. And with it placed at the bottom of the drawer of your nightstand, you felt like you could breathe freely–for the first time in months.

Now you just had to face him. A task easier said than done, even with your previous exercise, it was a bandaid that made the pain bearable.

The evening of the dinner, you made sure to look your best. Not for Matty, no. You needed to show everyone else that you were fine–you were sure Matty had told them all about what happened, and the only one of his bandmates you’d spoken to was George. It was a shock when you got the text from Carly asking if you were free, you thought the end of your relationship with Matty would mean the end of your friendship with the people around him. Not to say you weren’t pleasantly surprised, just a little bit caught off guard.

You did a quick once-over before you headed out the door, and in the least self-conceited way, you’d never looked hotter. Your makeup was perfect, your hair had that fluffy, 90s supermodel look, and you were wearing a dress that fit you like a glove, in a colour that was the perfect compliment to your glowing skin.

On the drive there you were trying to psych yourself up. It wasn’t a big deal…You could do this. Even as you were walking towards the front door and you could hear laughs inside, you kept telling yourself you would be okay…even if you didn’t believe it all that much.

Only about a second after you pressed the doorbell, you were greeted with the sight of the one, the only Jamie Squire.

“How are you, kid?” He asked excitedly, giving you a friendly hug.

“Oh…You know,” you answered. Because he most certainly did know. You held up the mid-priced bottle of red wine you brought. “Where should this go?”

“Oh Carly’s in the kitchen,” he said.

You were glad to see Carly alone in the kitchen, checking on whatever meal was in the oven. She was just as dolled up as you–you were glad you wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb.

“Carls!” You called to her as you entered the kitchen.

She excitedly turned and gave you a hug, and gave you a compliment on your makeup. You were always grateful for the friendship between The 1975’s WAGs, past and present.

“So where’s the little rockstar?” You asked, you always loved spending time with Baby Hann, as one of his godparents you’d spent many days playing along with any game he could come up with–which were becoming more and more inventive as he got older.

“He’s at Ad’s parents’,” she answered, you frowned. “Hey, we need a night off every so often!”

“I know…I know…” You joked as you poured a glass from the bottle you brought. “Well then where’s your lovely husband? Need to tell him he should help out his wife.”

“He’s in the living room with everyone else…” She got quiet at the end of her sentence.

“Hey,” you said in a serious tone. “It’s okay, I can be around him.”

“You’re sure?”

“I think.” You laughed.

“If you say so…” She went back to preparing some kind of sauce on the stovetop, leaving you to wade into the unknown.

You followed the noise of laughter and talking. You were greeted with the sight of George standing in front of everyone else, telling some insane story of his–and the band’s–youth. He trailed off mid-sentence when you entered, and his audience all whipped their heads around to look at the interruption.

Immediately everyone stood, each taking turns to greet you with a polite hug. Last was Matty, he hung back as everyone else said hello. You were so distracted you didn’t notice him at first, but when you did, it was clear how he’d been doing. His hair was longer than before, but not in a way that seemed like he was trying to grow it out, he had a light sprinkle of stubble, and the suit he wore–a staple for him recently–was wrinkled and it looked just a little too big on him.

You politely gave him a kiss on the cheek. You were engulfed in the scent of his cologne, a scent you didn’t realise you missed so dearly.

“How are you, love?” He asked. Love. Sometimes things don’t change, you thought.

“I’m alright,” you said with a bright facade. “Busy with work.”

“Good! Me too,” he answered.

Soon you were whisked away by whomever wanted to talk to you next, not even given an opportunity to say goodbye.

And that was how it went for most of the evening, you’d somehow end up standing next to each other, and someone would intervene. You couldn’t blame your friends, they just wanted to minimise the tension, but there was nothing that could be done about your heart shattering more and more every time you got a look at him.

It got later into the night, and soon the group began to get thinner and thinner. At just a few stragglers left, you saw Matty in the back garden, smoking a cigarette and scrolling through his phone. It was time.

Maybe it was the bottle of wine giving you the courage, but you knew you couldn’t end the night without a proper conversation with Matty, it would be just plain rude not to.

He didn’t react at hearing the clunk of your heels on the wooden deck he was sitting on, only when you sat down right next to him. All he did was offer you a drag of his cigarette which you took, like old times.

“I’m glad you came,” he said after you handed the ciggie back to him. “Here, I mean.”

“Me too…” You answered. “Was a fun night.”

“Did you see how pissed Charli was?” He smiled. “G had to carry her to the car.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” you laughed. “So…uh…where are you staying at the moment?”

“I’ve been bouncing around…” He answered. “Here for tonight.”

You nodded. He seemed quite content to keep scrolling on his phone in silence, but you didn’t want to quit.

“Do you think we could be friends?” You asked. “One day, I mean…eventually.”

Matty looked at you–properly–for the first time since you sat down. “I hope so. Just…”

“What?”

“I need to get over some stuff before that,” he said, nonchalantly, stubbing out his cigarette on the wood of the deck. “Like…I don’t think I’ll ever love someone the way I love you. Like ever.”

Your heart sank at the admission. Everything you’d done to prepare yourself to face him calmly suddenly went out the window.

“Then what are we doing?”

He looked confused by your question.

“Why are we both miserable and just not doing anything about it? Why did we decide to split up if this was how it would end up?”

You were admittedly a bit drunker than you realised at first, you’d never have as much courage to talk to him about all this if you were completely sober.

“Because…” He started. “We run our course.”

“Who says?” You could feel something–Anger? Passion?–bubbling up. “Why should we suffer doing something that neither of us really want? Why were we so rash with all this?”

That last question was more to yourself, why did you give up so easily? You could see Matty’s eyes had a slight gloss to them, yours matched them.

“I don’t know.” Was all he said. And it was enough to solidify your decision of what you were about to do.

You began to lean forward, strong eye contact between the two of you. Matty met you in the middle and before you knew it you were engulfed in the warmth of his kiss, now letting the tears flow freely. It was some kind of cathartic release, all pent up over the last few months.

You didn’t break away until you were in desperate need of air. You both caught your breaths, just staring at each other. Eventually Matty let out a small chuckle.

“What?” You asked, confused but matching his grin.

“Was just thinking…” He started. “I’m supposed to stay here tonight…And I don’t know how I’m gonna sneak out to spend the night with you.”

You laughed. “Well that’s very presumptuous of you.”

“Well I know my audience…” He quipped. It was true, he knew the kind of person you were, as evident when you brought him back to your flat after your first proper date and silently begged him not to judge you–which he didn’t.

You both sat in silence for a little while, a comfortable silence. You didn’t want to go back inside, you felt safe in just Matty’s presence. But you were thinking, how would you explain this to everyone? Simple, you didn’t have to. As much as you loved the band and everyone that came along with them–your family–you did like being alone some of the time. And you thought it best to be alone right now.

“Well I’m going home,” you said, standing up.

“What do I do?” He asked.

“I don’t know! Come up with some excuse! Like you need another pack of fags or something!”

“Carly doesn’t like me smoking here! I had to sneak that one!” He pointed to the butt that was sitting crumbled on the deck next to him.

You sighed. “Just come up with something?”

He laughed. “I’ll try…”

You bid a farewell to the last of the group, and thanked the wonderful couple for hosting. As you turned the ignition of your car, a sense of excitement ran through you. You felt like a teenager again, sneaking around with a boy that made you giddy.

When you got back to your flat, you hurriedly tidied as best you could; making your bed, drying and putting away the dishes you’d left on the sink. When you finally had the time to get a look at yourself in the mirror and saw the sight before you, you quickly refreshed your makeup, fixing your smudged lipstick and creased concealer.

And then you waited on your sofa, after you poured yourself a glass of wine to keep your fearlessness going. Time ticked by ever so slowly. You must’ve checked your phone about two hundred times over the course of about 50 minutes. Eventually you heard a series of rapid knocks at your door, it could only be him. As soon as you opened the door his lips were on yours, feverish and rough.

“What took so long?” You asked in between kisses.

“Had to wait for everyone to leave…” Another kiss. “And then for Hann and Carly to go to bed.”

You just smiled. You had the adrenaline of a horny teenager.

In a flurry of clothes being stripped off between biting, hot kisses, you made your way to your bedroom. A task that was easy for Matty, purely for muscle memory.

There was no need to warm up to it. You straddled Matty and engulfed him in another kiss that almost made you melt.

“You want me to wear a condom?” He asked in a string of breaths, trying not to focus on the heat radiating from you on his thighs.

“I know I’m still clean, are you?”

“Of course.” Was his way of saying there’d been nobody else, An admission that made you beam.

You took gentle hold of his cock, running your thumb over the tip and eliciting a moan from him. And even more as you slowly lowered down on him. It felt comfortable, like home.

As you began to bounce, keeping firm eye contact with Matty, you could feel a bubble start to form in your abdomen.

You felt your spine turn to jelly when Matty placed two firm fingers on your clit, massaging it in a familiar pattern that you hadn’t felt in months. You were rapidly approaching the edge.

“Ma–Baby…” You began to get out. “Al-almost there…”

“Do you want me on top?” He asked, you nodded.

In a flash, Matty readjusted you so you were laying on top of the mattress, lifting your hips up just a little so he could hit that spot, over and over and over again.

You were biting your lip to stop from letting out the most guttural moan, you just about drew blood. But you just couldn’t hold it in any longer.

Once Matty had hit your g-spot one last time, you just unravelled underneath him. He kept thrusting as you ran out your high, but it wasn’t long before he was emptying into you and collapsing next to you.

In a hazy silence, you both were laid on your bed–yours and his–catching your breaths. After a few minutes of recovery, you sat up a little to look at Matty. He was staring at the ceiling with the biggest smile you’d ever seen on him.

“You alright there?” You asked, with a smile of your own.

“Yeah just…” He took a second to gather his thoughts. “Just really, really happy.”

“Me too.”

The rest of your evening–in a word–was still. You were sat in bed, now under the covers with legs intertwined, just talking. Talking about anything, everything, what you missed out on each other’s lives in the past couple months.

But there was one thing you wanted to tell him–needed to tell him. It was whispering at you from the drawer of your nightstand.

“I have something for you,” you said.

“Oh?” Matty asked with a smile as turned away from him to retrieve the envelope. “Is it a good something or a bad something?”

“Good, I think.” You handed him the envelope that had ‘to Matty’ scrawled on the front. “I wrote it a couple days ago, I just wanted to get all my feelings out.”

As he opened the envelope and quickly scanned the paper within, he got the memo. “A letter for me?”

“You don’t have to read it, or if you want to I can leave the room if that makes it easier…”

“No, you don’t have to…” He said with urgency. “Just sit with me?”

You nodded and shimmied closer to him as he read. It took a couple minutes, after he was done, he folded it back up and placed it on the nightstand on his side of the bed. You finally looked at him, he had tears in his eyes.

“I…” He said shakily. “I love you so much. And I’m never letting you go again.”

#matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #matty healy smut #matty healy fic #matty healy oneshot #Spotify

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skz-sage · 8 months

Text

skz + sage 5star moments (maknae line)

a/n: my apolo cheese for being absent. i do really want to continue writing for sage! i have so many ideas. as always, any requests are welcome! please leave them in my ask box :) if i get enough love i MIGHT do lalalala era version

jisung

jisung and sage do a vlog together so sages little series where she posts vlogs every few weeks. this days guest was jisung. every time you put these two together it’s absolute mayhem. literally in every video with jisung and sage they’re giggling, screaming laughing, it’s always happy-going with them. in this vlog it shows them going to practice, the convenience store and to the park. one of the highlights in this vlog is sage and jisung walking into the store and sage says “it’s on me, get whatever.” you can immediately see the sparkle in jisung’s eyes eyes. in subtitles she put “princess peter han~”. you can tell sage was getting worried the more and more jisung added things to the basket. she waited a little more to say “hey! i’m not made of money!” she scolded him. which made him laugh. you could tell he was doing it to mess with her. it didn’t matter because at the end they had a romantic picnic at the park with their snacks.

felix

this moment consist of felix and sage getting their makeup done next to each other. they were the last two to have their makeup done. because sage is a girl, her makeup takes a little longer than the rest of the boys. felix has this cute thing where when they’re getting their makeup done next to each other, felix will stay behind and talk sages ear off. sage took a time-lapse type of video, recording felix just talking, doing nothing just annoying miju. all she really did was nod and make small replies. it’s not that she didn’t like felix doing this, it just who sage is. she could be so interested in what you’re saying but she’ll give half-assed replies. minho gets on her ass a lot for it. she later posted onto her personal instagram the video and pictures she took of him next to her. she captioned it “yongbok? more like yongboring 😒”

seungmin

for this specific part of the mv, sage had to act surprised. for an odd reason it took sage a while to get it right. of course, seungmin found it soooo amusing. just from him staring at him with a grin, she could tell exactly what was going on in his head. this would go in a compilation of “seungmin staring at sage for 30 minutes”. oh he was evil, but she loved him. the camera man will go over to seungmin and he’s laugh to the camera, mocking sage’s attempts to act shocked. “she’s endearing.. but a little stupid.” this made stays be like “HUH?? JESUS HES SO MEAN TO HER”, but no this is just how sage and seungmin joke around. they’re brutal towards each other. later on when it was seungmin on camera and sage watching, she shook her head and sighed. “he’s really pretty, stay. but he’s horrible towards me. you should always love me more.” she joked with a straight face towards the camera.

jeongin

in the 5star concept pics, jeongin and sage were paired together. the visuals they gave were astronauts, intergalactic, out of the world. it had the members talking out it for weeks. went from “she’s so gorgeous!” to “miju where did the years go? you’re all grown up!” which she hears often… it drives her crazy. in the dressing room, jeongin left behind an expensive silver necklace. with a note from jeongin saying “for miju~ ♡”. of course jeongin checked with staff to make sure she can wear it during the photoshoot. of course she gave her best visuals in the photoshoot, as she always does. after the shoot her and jeongin went out to restaurant and sage still had the necklace on. later jeongin would post on his instagram a picture of his kiss-stained cheek and the culprit? son miju.

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pagegirlintraining · 13 days

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✂️🎵 for dancing through life pls? 💜

Thank you Lia 💜 it’s been ages since I’ve gotten to talk (or honestly think much) about DTL. So answering this ask was such a nice throwback.

I’ll start with the shorter answer, which is ♬ THEME SONG: pick a fic and I’ll share a song that reminds me of it (and why!):

There are so many possible songs for this one, simply because of all the routines. But one that isn’t directly involved in it but still reminds me of it is “Power” by Spinall, because the original plan for the epilogue was to let them perform a street dance choreo to this song. Obviously in the end I went less ‘fuck the monarchy’ and more ‘dreamy, fluffy boys in love’. But I still think they’d have killed that choreo.

As for the deleted scene, I picked the moment Simon learns about Wille’s obsession with the ship edits people keep making of them. Featuring Erik being a shithead of course 😁 this is set in chapter 11, during the night of their dinner where Simon first meets Erik as Wille’s boyfriend.

The sound of laughter coming from the saloon made Wilhelm stop, his hand halting its movement right above the door handle in favor of listening for a moment.

It wasn’t like he’d necessarily been worried about leaving his brother and his boyfriend alone for the five minutes it had taken him to use the bathroom. Still, having this audible proof that they were getting along splendidly without him flooded his chest with so much warmth, he had to give himself a moment to process it. To really dwell in this feeling of pure, utter love he felt for the two men whose laughter had morphed more into a series of giggles on Erik’s part and several snorts on Simon’s now. Only then did he let himself press down the handle.

“You need to see this, baby,” was the first thing out of Simon’s mouth the moment he clocked Wilhelm’s presence, an outstretched hand waving Wilhelm over in a gesture so entirely adorable, he thought for a moment his heart was going to entirely melt inside his chest. Erik made sure to prevent that from happening.

“Oh, don’t worry. He’s probably seen all of these already”, he was saying, and from the devilish gleam in his eyes, Wilhelm knew instantly that that couldn’t possibly be a good thing for him.

“What are you watching?” he asked, unable to fully suppress an air of apprehension. In response, Simon simply repeated the same gesture with his hand, and this time, Wilhelm followed his request, stepping over to the sofa holding him and Erik, his hand immediately finding Simon’s shoulder, thumb brushing the side of his neck as he peered over it and onto the laptop screen on Simon’s legs.

He was only mildly surprised when he found a picture of his own face there, an official one that the Let’s Dance Instagram account had used to announce his and Simon’s partnership on the show, albeit airbrushed in a way that made it seem like he was exuding a white glow. There wasn’t much time to wrap his head around this, since his gaze was caught quickly by another face beside his own, this one Simon’s, just as ridiculously airbrushed. He had also clearly been cropped out of the original photo in order to stand closer to Wilhelm, in a way that left them both smiling right at the camera, their photoshopped temples nearly touching.

“Vote for #TeamWilmon” the caption above said, with a whole rainbow made of hearts and two crowns behind it. Yeah, he definitely knew why Erik had been laughing now. And knowing his brother, the next few minutes, if not hours, were bound to be majorly embarrassing for Wilhelm.

“It seems people have decided that we have a team name now,” Simon was saying, clearly oblivious to his inner turmoil, “There’s a whole hashtag and it’s apparently been trending on and off over the last few weeks.”

“Oh. How, uh, supportive of them.”

“They’re really creative, too”, Simon continued, apparently too engrossed in this new discovery to notice Wilhelm’s abysmally hidden embarrassment. “This one person made a compilation of you tripping in practice and told people to vote if they wanted to see the monarchy fall.”

“That… that’s actually pretty clever”, Wilhelm got out, feeling himself relax a little bit. He could handle Simon potentially teasing him about falling down in practice. Lord knew he was already doing plenty of that, and eight times out of ten, Wilhelm got a kiss or two as an apology afterwards. So honestly, he didn’t mind that part in the least. What he was much more nervous about was Erik tattling on him and telling Simon how he’d been actively watching different kinds of videos about himself and Simon lately. So much so that his entire for you page was now basically one big collage of ‘Wilmon’. Because yeah, people were very creative when it came to putting together different combinations of clips of the two of them to all kinds of dramatic and sometimes cutesie music. And sue him, but a lot of times, that combination really worked for him.

Any tentative hope of getting out of this mostly unharmed was crushed the moment Erik cleared his throat, adding a low chuckle eight after.

“I’m surprised you haven’t seen any of these before, Wille. Then again, you’re more partial to the couple montages, aren’t you?”

“The couple montages?”

Of course, Simon would’ve jumped right on that. Wilhelm’s eyes squeezed shut in a pained expression all by themselves. When he opened them again, Simon had shifted on the couch, now fully turned back to face Wilhelm.

“You’re making couple montages?”

And okay, with how not at all weirded out - and maybe even slightly excited - Simon sounded asking this, Wilhelm suddenly felt almost bad that that wasn’t what he’d been doing.

“Not, uhm… not exactly.”

“He’s binging ship edits of the two of you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d made a fan account himself at this point.”

Yup, leave it to his big brother to ruin his life.

“You’re completely exaggerating”, he claimed, trying to come off as somewhere between amused and nonchalant rather than as panicked as he suddenly felt. Because what if Simon thought that was a ridiculous, or even creepy thing for him to be doing? What if he disapproved of the whole ‘shipping real people’ aspect of it all and would get mad at Wilhelm for not actively opposing it?

“Oh, am I?“ If anything, Erik’s grin had widened since Wilhelm’s last comment, which kind of made him regret not simply keeping his mouth shut. “So you’re saying if I were to check your Tiktok likes right now, there wouldn’t be anything from, say, last night, when you insisted on going to bed early only to then proceed to watch videos without your headphones until way past midnight?”

“Fuck off, Erik. I was watching a movie and fell asleep in front of it.”

It wasn’t even a lie. He had put on an old comedy for background noise that he’d ultimately ended up dozing off to. There was no actual way for Erik to know that he’d been more focused on the compilation of their rehearsal packages he’d been watching on his phone at the same time.

“Sure, stay in denial”, Erik told him now, his tone of voice making it very clear that be wasn’t actually planning on letting Wilhelm stay in denial about this. And really - “I just thought your boyfriend should know how big of a fan you are of your rela-“

That’s as far as he got before Simon surprised both of them by asking, “Do you have a favorite?”

It took Wilhelm a moment to even grasp the meaning of the question. When he did, he still felt like he needed to check again.

“You mean, like… a favorite edit?”

“Exactly.”

To his utter surprise, Simon was smiling up at him warmly, one hand coming to cover Wilhelm’s on the back of the couch, thumb beginning to draw slow patterns onto the back of it.

“I’ve only seen some of the ones that Rosh has sent me, but I’d love to know which ones you like. You know, just for, like, inspo, if I ever miss you and feel like checking some out.”

His cheeks had started to take on a slightly pink tinge toward the end, but just like the incredibly brave man Wilhelm knew him to be - god, he was so much braver than Wilhelm himself ever would be - he didn’t seem to even think about averting his eyes, or playing anything off with a stupid joke. No, his loving, wonderful boyfriend was looking right at Wilhelm with a soft smile and eyes that sparkled with open curiosity. And holy fuck, Wilhelm was so completely gone for him.

“I’ll show them to you later if you want,” he offered, and suddenly, it was the easiest thing. Because why not own the fact that he liked watching clips involving him and his beautiful boyfriend if it made Simon so obviously happy, and even a little bit giddy?

“”I’d love that”, he was telling Wilhelm now, smile deepening as he continued to stare up at him, their gazes irrevocably caught in one another.

“Urgh, you’re no fun”, Erik groaned next to them, but Wilhelm didn’t even need to look at him to know that he, too, was suppressing a genuine smile, even as he continued, “If you’re gonna keep doing whatever this is, I think I’ll call it a night now.”

“Night, Erik”, Wilhelm quipped without once taking his eyes off Simon, whose hand had now started to travel over his wrist and up his arm, leaving a string of goosebumps in its wake.

“Unbelievable,” he heard Erik mutter, but couldn’t find it in himself to mind the teasing he knew this would lead to in the future even a single bit.

I hope you like it and it feels in tone with the story. It really has been so long since I tried getting into DTL Wilhelm’s head (and writing him as Wilhelm. The amount of Wille’s I had to change in this one, rip me 😂) Anyway, thank you so much again for the ask, and giving my hectic brain something to be nostalgic about today 🥹💜

#fic ask game #ask answered #yr fanfic #wilmon #young royals

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kurtie4life96 · 2 years

Text

Song request: Chateau by Djo with Steve Harrington of course! But with OLD MONEY STEVE. smut if that's okay :) I love you!!

Chateau, Careless Whisper

S.H. × F! Reader

Summary: Steve runs into an old fling from high school at a party. He's very sought after, but she doesn't know about his money and popularity, and he is intrigued to say the least.

CW: MDNI 18+, old money!Steve, fem!reader, old flings, fluff, angst, drinking, jealousy, soft(ish) smut

AN: I decided to add Careless Whisper by George Michael with this, it just fit with the plot in my head, sorry!

Part 2 here!

Standing in the warm, summer night in front of a château style home in August, 1990, you ran shaky fingers through your hair, and tugged your black dress down at the hem, smoothing it, then staring at the large, lit up house before you, nearly having an anxiety attack at the sight of it.

It was gorgeous- a diamond in the rough of Hawkins, Indiana. The exterior of the large home was crafted with white wood paneling, grey steeply pitched roofs and shutters, accompanied with tall, arched windows. You stood in the courtyard, a quaint and simple fountain in the middle, a walkway compiled of stone surrounding it that lead to a similar looking guesthouse towards the back, with lush green grass and trees all around.

Music roared from within it, and you took a deep breath, your skin buzzing with nervousness and anticipation. You took a moment to reach into your small purse, spraying a cheap, but decent perfume on your chest, then began to walk towards the tall, double front doors, your heels clicking under you as you headed towards the black tie event that you'd heard gossip about for nearly a week.

A man you'd never seen before greeted you at the entrance, wearing a black suit and tie, his hair slicked back neatly, carrying a tray of glasses half full of champagne, offering one with a warm smile.

You accepted it, perhaps a little too eagerly, but needed something to calm your nerves. You thanked him with a nod and a smile, and stepped inside.

The interior was lit up brightly with a soft yellow glow, the design of the home elegant, elaborate, yet quite modern with a humble feel to it, tasteful paintings hanging on the walls, and a grand staircase. A large crowd of people dressed in black, designer clothes were scattered about underneath a crystal chandelier, chatting amongst themselves loudly enough to drown out the music.

You took another deep breath, your anxiety nearly taking over, as you tried to calm yourself by remembering the five senses.

What can you taste? The bubbly champagne, of course.

What can you smell? A mixture of unknown women and men's perfumes and cologne- a bit strong and a little nauseating.

What can you hear? Classical music and obnoxious voices.

What can you see? A crowd of people that you could only assume were pretentious and full of themselves, yet cleaned up extremely well.

What can you feel? Goosebumps on your skin. You can feel the cold glass in your hand. You can feel the fabric of your dress as you smoothed it down your body again, feeling self conscious.

Well, that didn't help.

Your stomach did backflips as you made your way throw the crowd aimlessly, apologizing over and over again, trying to compose yourself, feeling exposed, like you didn't belong there.

You stood in the corner, people watching, feeling like a wallflower, a part of you looking for familiar faces, although you knew none would be there.

Another well dressed gentleman walked by you gracefully with another tray of champagne just as you'd finished your first, and you grabbed a second, feeling grateful for the slight buzz that ran through your body.

As you sipped the alcohol, trying to gain the confidence to approach someone in the crowd, someone else approached you to your left to greet you, a familiar voice that startled you, making you gasp.

"Woah, shit, didn't mean to scare you!" He smiled, putting his hands up in an attempt to steady you.

You chuckled, a hint of annoyance and disbelief in it, as you turned to face the old fling standing before you.

He was wearing a black suit and tie like the rest of the men, an expensive looking watch on his wrist, his classic long, sun kissed waves framing his face- and damn it, you couldn't deny that he looked striking, and his cologne of cedarwood and citrus was intoxicating.

"Harrington," you grinned arrogantly, raising an eyebrow and standing up straight, crossing one arm over the other.

Steve slightly bowed, reaching an arm towards you in a cheesy fashion as he held his own glass of champagne in the other.

"In the flesh."

You smirked at his silly action, feeling a little caught off guard.

"What is a guy like you doing in a place like this?"

"Well," he leaned back, taking a sip, "I could ask you the same question."

You gave him a skeptical look.

"Oh, well," he stammered, laughing awkwardly, "not that you're a guy, I mean, obviously you're not- you know what mean, right?"

You took another sip, chuckling at him, "You haven't changed at all, have you?"

Steve shrugged his shoulders, smiling sheepishly.

"You've still got the same big, long hair, same demeanor, still cocky... isn't that right?"

"Yeah, well I never lost my charm, so I guess I haven't really changed," he winked at you, "So, it's been what- four years?"

"Yep, four years since we last saw each other, through all the Upside Down shit. And six years since you... broke my little heart?" You crossed your legs and leaned back against the wall.

He frowned at that statement, making you feel a little bad, but you would never let it show.

"I'm just giving you some shit, Harrington. No hard feelings." You laughed.

He smiled again and nodded, running his hand through his hair.

Couples began to gather around the common area, dancing intimately to a slow song that started to play throughout the large house.

Steve glanced over at the crowd, then back at you.

"Might I say, you look ravishing tonight. May I have this dance?" He set down his glass and reached an arm out towards you, a hopeful look on his face.

"I think that's the weirdest fucking thing I've ever heard you say. What are you, Shakespeare?" You laughed, downing the rest of your champagne.

"Well, no. I just thought that maybe you'd like to talk, over there?" He motioned towards the flock of couples. "Cause, I know you've been kinda wandering around here awkwardly, wouldn't you like to be with a familiar face?"

He held a hand to you again, waiting for your response.

"Fine," you groaned, setting your glass down, "but that was uncalled for."

Steve smiled as he took your hand in his, leading you gingerly through the crowd, and they made note to move out of the way.

He intertwined his left hand with your right, placing the other along your lower back. You rested your hand on his shoulder, as he began to sway you gently.

"You know, you should feel lucky, Harrington," you remarked, grinning at him, "because I don't dance."

He ignored your comment, instead gazing into your eyes, softly smiling at you with his stupid, perfect teeth.

"You know, you should really just call me Steve now." He suggested, a voice of honey.

You scoffed, "Okay, Steve... just still feels a little weird to say your first name."

"And why is that?" He questioned, pulling you a little closer towards him.

Careless Whisper began to echo throughout the room, and the song was a little too fitting for the situation you were in, making you feel a bit unfocused.

"I don't know... maybe it has to do with the fact that you used me as a rebound for that summer in high school, only to tell me you couldn't get over Nancy."

Steve furrowed his eyebrows together, seemingly deep in thought before he answered, "I don't think that's necessarily true."

"And why is that?" You repeated his question, still swaying to the music.

"You weren't a rebound. I really do- I mean, did like you, a lot. I was just confused. I didn't even know what I was feeling. I haven't seen her in-"

"It's okay, Steve. It's been years. I'm over it." You chuckled nervously.

"Are you?" He asked, smirking at you.

You nodded, a hesitant smile on your lips as you took note of each other's faces.

"Best summer of my life," he admitted quietly, "I've always thought about you, was never able to get you out of my head, you know."

Your chest grew warm and bloomed at his statement, "Me neither."

He was a bit taken aback, but beamed at you.

"So," you teased, "considering that you're here, dancing with me, I'm assuming your dream of 6 kids, living life on the road in an RV didn't work out?"

"Nope." He enunciated the word with a pop of his lips, looking around the room.

You heard whispering around you, and looked around too, finding people staring at the two of you, practically gawking.

"Why the fuck are they staring at us?" You asked, glaring right back at them.

"I don't know, they're just weird people, I guess," Steve replied, looking back at you with an amused smile, "so, you never answered my question."

"What question?" You focused back to him.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well," you sighed, still lazily swaying with him, "I heard through the grapevine at work that a lot of, you know, big shots were gonna be here. I thought I'd take a chance at talking to one of them, try to score a job. I'm barely able to afford my own apartment. Hard to do that when you're just a waitress."

Steve nodded, motioning for you to continue.

"Obviously, I can't even do that," you laughed, "cause now I'm just here, dancing with you."

He smirked, staring at your face for a moment before responding, making butterflies dance in your stomach, only now realizing the close proximity of your faces.

"I think I can help with that."

"Really?" You perked up, "How?"

The song began to fade away, the crowd of people dressed in black beginning to gather in groups, chatting amongst themselves again.

Steve gently let go of you, pulling a card out of his coat pocket and handing it to you. It had his name and phone number on it, but no other information.

"Here," he placed the card in your hand, "why don't you give me a call in, let's say... tomorrow?" He suggested. "Tomorrow morning."

"Oh, okay," you smiled gratefully, putting the card in your purse, "well thank you, Harrington. I really appreciate that."

"Don't thank me," he took your hands in his as he spoke, "it's the least I can do for you."

You gazed at each other with stars in your eyes, squeezing his hands for a moment, wondering if he felt the same tension as you.

"So," he let go of your hands, "I hear they're shutting this party down soon. You should go before they do, beat the traffic, you know."

"Okay," you nodded, "well, thanks again."

Steve nodded back, and you began to walk away.

"Hey!" He exclaimed, making you turn around to look at him again.

"Yeah?"

"Call me, Steve, okay? Talk to you soon."

You scoffed playfully, and turned around to walk out the door, feeling excited, hopeful, giddy as you walked to your car, squealing in joy as you drove away.

You were awoken by the god awful sound of your alarm clock, groaning as you rolled over in your bed to shut it off with an annoyed smack of your hand. You closed your eyes, getting comfortable for a moment longer, before they shot open again, realizing that you had a very important phone call to make.

You sat up abruptly, snatching the comforter off of you, heading to your small kitchenette to make a cup of coffee, hastily pouring the creamer in, mixing and taking a sip, preparing for the call you were about to make.

A part of you wondered why you were so nervous to call him. Were you worried that he wasn't being serious when he said he'd help you? Was the job going to be a big flop? Or did Steve Harrington still make you feel nervous after all these years?

Maybe a mix of everything.

You picked up his card from the kitchen counter, walking over to the phone on the wall. With a big inhale, exhale, you picked up the phone and dialed his number.

It only rang for three seconds before he picked up.

"Hello?"

"Uh, hey Steve, it's-"

He interrupted you, chuckling, "Finally, I've been waiting for you to call all morning!"

You laughed, "What? It's only 9 a.m."

"I know, I know," he emphasized his words, "I guess I've just been absolutely buzzing with excitement."

"Oh...kay," you teased, "why's that?"

"I don't know, just lonely, bored nowadays," he replied, "so, anyway, I've set up an interview for you at that coffee shop, you know, the one on 6th Street? There's this guy that's very interested in speaking with you."

"Oh, sweet, thank you! Um, what's the job again?"

Steve ignored your question, "So be there around 11. Also, give me your address. I'm gonna send a taxi over to your place to pick you up. Don't bring your car."

"Okay," you went on to give him your address, "but why?"

"I hope it goes great! Let me know after, okay? Talk to you later." He stuttered between his words and abruptly hung up the phone.

You removed the phone from your ear, staring at it for a moment, feeling puzzled to say the least, before you reacted.

"What the fuck?"

You hung the phone back up on the wall.

"That was fucking weird," you continued to talk to yourself, heading to your bedroom, "who just hangs up like that? Fucking Steve Harrington. What in the fuck was that?"

You quickly took to getting ready, slipping out of your pajamas, showering, putting on some makeup- not too much, just the right amount.

"Business casual," you reminded yourself, "not too casual, but not too much."

You finished your hair and opted for a pencil skirt, flats, and a simple blouse.

You stood before your reflection in the mirror, repeating comforting words of affirmation to yourself, as you smoothed your outfit down and checked the time on your watch.

10:53.

"Shit!"

You grabbed your purse and ran out the door, down the stairs of your apartment and outside, to see a yellow taxi waiting for you in the parking lot.

You opened the backdoor and got in hastily, anxiety taking over again.

"Hi- hello, sir," you spoke to the driver, "the coffee shop on-"

"6th Street, I know." The cab driver smiled and began to drive.

"Oh, um- thank you." You responded and smiled at him, fumbling with your hair as he drove.

Once he arrived at the destination, you grabbed your purse, reaching in to grab your wallet.

"How much do I owe you sir?"

"It's been paid for, ma'am." He assured. "You have a nice day."

"Oh shit- fuck- I mean, thank you. You too!" You stepped out of the car, facing the coffee shop.

What the fuck?

You smoothed down your outfit again, brushed your fingers through your hair and composed yourself, forcing a smile on your face, though your anxiety was through the roof.

You walked in, smelling freshly ground coffee beans and feeling the air conditioning in the shop blasting as you looked around the room for who you might be meeting.

It was easy to see who it was, considering there was only one person, sitting in the corner of the coffee shop with a shit eating grin on his face.

What the FUCK?

"Harrington?!" You exclaimed, a beyond confused look on your face.

He leaned back, his hair tousled perfectly, annoyingly wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans, his hands clasped together.

"In the flesh."

"What-"

"And remember, call me Steve."

You walked slowly towards him, wondering if there was a possibility you were hallucinating.

"Please, sit." He pulled out a chair for you, looking a little too cocky.

You reluctantly did as he asked, setting your purse down, keeping eye contact with him.

"What can I get you to drink? On me." He stood up, still grinning, like he'd won some sort of game.

"Um... just a mocha, thanks."

Steve nodded and walked to the front counter.

You sat deep in thought as you waited. Is he playing some mindgame with you? Is he still just an asshole? Why did he lie to you?

"Here's your mocha," he set it down on the table for you, "and I got one too, though I'm not much of a coffee drinker myself-"

"Why did you lie?" You interrupted him.

He sat down in front of you, furrowing his brows, "Lie?"

You nodded, impatiently waiting for a response, frustration coursing through your veins.

"Well, I didn't necessarily lie. I told you I'd help you, and you'd have an interview," he laughed quietly, "and, it was me the whole time!"

"Yeah, I've figured that out by now." You huffed. "Are you just trying to mess with me, embarrass me or something? If so, I'm just gonna walk out right now-"

"No, no!" Steve assured you, putting his hands up, "no, I'm sorry, I'm not trying to mess with you. I guess it was kinda stupid that I did it like this."

"Then why am I here?"

He took a sip of his coffee, leaning back in his chair, "For a job."

"What job?"

"Well," he sighed, trailing off for a moment, "please just listen to me. Just let me talk, and trust me. Please?"

You leaned forward in your chair, crossing your arms on the table and raised an eyebrow at him, "I'm listening."

He exhaled nervously, running a hand through his hair and scooting his chair closer to you, resting his hands on the table.

"So, during the time we kinda... drifted apart, I inherited some money. And if you remember, my dad had a lot of money."

You nodded, motioning for him to continue.

"Well, and please don't get mad, but that house party last night? It, uh... just so happens that house is... mine." Steve chuckled awkwardly.

"What?!"

"Let me finish, okay?"

You groaned, a look of worry on your face.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you that last night. It was just nice to see you again and talk to you, talk to someone that knows who I am as a real person and doesn't just try to talk to me for... my money, you know? And when you brought up that you needed a job, it got me thinking-"

You cut him off, "Thinking what?"

"Ugh, let me finish!" He groaned, "It got me thinking that I've needed someone to... run my house?"

"Like a house manager?"

"Yeah, like a house manager," he smiled, "you know, travel arrangements, manage my budget, organize parties or social stuff... I'm not exactly good at... those type of things."

"Yeah, I could see that." You teased, finally cracking a smile.

Steve scoffed playfully, "Shut up! I know, I know. The thing is, I've never hired anyone to do it because I don't really trust any random person with things like that. I saw a friend, someone I trust, and I thought, why not?"

He shrugged and smiled, waiting for your answer, his leg bouncing nervously.

"So," you sat up straight, crossing your legs, "would I be a maid, clean up after you? What's the catch?"

"No catch," Steve shook his head, "I already have a maid. You'd have to move in with me-"

"Woah, woah, woah," you interrupted, "move in with you-"

"Jesus, sweetheart, let me talk," he laughed, motioning his hands for you to calm down, "not in my house. I have a guesthouse in the back. It's got a kitchen, bathroom, bedrooms, everything you need for your own privacy. And you'd live in it for free. And I would pay you."

You perked up, "How much?"

"Let's say..." He thought for a moment, "$100,000? Just to start off?"

Your jaw nearly dropped to the floor, your eyes widening.

"Steve-"

"Don't say no." He said kindly, smiling at your reaction. "Unless you want to. That's okay, too. I just thought... it's the least I can do. Win-win situation?"

You stared at your coffee in disbelief, your heart beating so loud, surely he could hear it. Time slowed down, the world coming to a halt. So much so that you hadn't even realized that Steve reached out his hands to hold yours gently through your shock.

"I'll do it." You exhaled and glanced back over to him, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

"Really?" He beamed, squeezing your hands.

"Yes," you squeezed his back unknowingly, "only because I need this so badly. I could go back to school, I could take care of my family... Steve, I don't even know how to begin to thank you-"

"You don't have to," he reassured, "like I said, it's the least I can do."

You gazed at each other for a few moments, smiling so cheesy you almost couldn't stand it, and you again wondered if he felt the same tension between you as the night before.

It was only then did you finally notice that you were holding hands.

"So, um," you cleared your throat, pulling your hands back.

Steve did the same, his throat bobbing as there was an awkward bit of silence.

"So..." you finished your question, "when do I start?"

"Oh, today, if you want." He leaned back in his chair nonchalantly, as if what he just said wasn't a big deal.

"Today?!" You reiterated.

He nodded, a cheeky look spreading across his face again.

"Um, okay, but what about my stuff, my apartment-"

"The movers will take care of all that," Steve assured you, "you don't need to lift a finger. They'll start moving your stuff into the guesthouse today. If you want."

You wondered how any of that could happen so fast, but excitement pushed the thought to the back of your brain.

"Welp," he stood up, hands on his hips, "are you ready to go?"

You stood up after him, grabbing your purse, "Go? To your house?"

"Yep," he pulled his keys out of his pocket, swinging them around his fingers, "let's go."

You quickly followed him out the door, giggling with joy as Steve opened the passenger door of his red Cadillac for you. You got in, admiring the interior as he sat in the driver's seat and started the car.

"Steve?" You asked as he began to drive towards his house, the hot summer breeze flowing through each other's hair.

"Yeah?"

"This isn't gonna be, like... a weird sugar daddy situation, is it?"

He nearly choked on his own spit nervously, clearing his throat, "No, no, definitely not."

"Cause it's almost too good to be true, you know?"

"Definitely not." He repeated, looking over at you with a warm smile, then reverted his eyes back to the road, and you swore you saw a hint of a tense look on his face.

The next four months went by far too quickly. You were the happiest you'd ever been, feeling so grateful for the opportunity Steve had given you. You meticulously orchestrated the most extravagant house parties, took care of his finances, made sure his bills were paid on time, arranged his travel arrangements with perfection, and made his life much easier for him, which he showed great appreciation for.

The guesthouse you'd been living in was much more than you thought it was going to be. Two stories, fully furnished with the finest materials, a large kitchen with marble counter tops, the most luxurious bathroom, and the softest bedding you'd ever had the pleasure to sleep in, not to mention the insane salary, which Steve had already increased greatly on multiple occasions.

You were living the most amazing life, far past your highest expectations, but there was a feeling you couldn't shake, and you couldn't stand it.

Every time you put together a large gathering for a house party, you couldn't help but feel a little jealous when other women interacted with him, laughing at his jokes a little too loudly, having conversations with him a little too intimately, and dancing with him a little too long for your liking. But Steve still took the time to dance with you, of course, in a friendly manner, and you reminded yourself that he was a highly respected, well sought after man, and you just had to accept that. But god, did you hate it.

Every time Steve left for a business trip, whether it'd be a few days or a week, you found yourself feeling awfully lonely, isolated even. You kept busy by managing the house, doing your job, but you couldn't help but to feel insignificant, even abandoned, which you scolded yourself for, feeling embarrassed of yourself. He was your boss, after all. But god, you just fucking hated it.

But Steve did make up for it, of course. You never told him how lonely you were feeling, but he must have gotten the hint, as he would shower you with gifts. He'd bought you a new, much more reliable car in your favorite color. He'd gifted you a wardrobe of designer clothes, shoes and bags. He'd sent you on spa days that he'd pay for, massages, manicures, pedicures, and sent you to luxury salons to get your hair done. You hadn't even needed to touch your own money. You felt bad for all the gifts, telling him it wasn't necessary, that you were just there to do your job, but Steve always insisted, always reiterating that it was the least he could do.

The least he could do. Sometimes you wondered about that statement.

You were facing the fact that you, indeed, had feelings for Steve Harrington. And you wondered if you'd always had, ever since that summer in high school.

You felt ashamed of yourself, as it was so inappropriate to be in love with your own boss. But you'd known him long before he became a big shot, long before all these other people had known him, and so it was a difficult feeling to shake away.

You felt guilty for having these feelings, because Steve had done so much for you. You didn't want to be in love with him, as he showered you with things you'd only dreamed of. What if he meets the love of his life, and continues to be so generous towards you? That wouldn't be fair to them.

But at the same time, you couldn't tell him that you'd fallen for him. He'd always had trust issues, and you didn't want him to feel like you were taking advantage of him, or be accused of it. You didn't want to hurt him and break that trust.

It was all so conflicting, it drove you mad.

It didn't help that the two of you would spend your free time with each other, having dinner together at his large house, watching movies, laughing, friendly brunch dates, all of which included lingering stares, curling up on the couch a little closer together than platonic friends would do, Steve's endearing nicknames for you, his compliments, hands barely touching as you conversed, dancing slowly, warm bodies close together.

And you pondered the thought that maybe, just maybe, he was feeling the same electric buzz on on his own skin, the same butterflies in his stomach, the same fireworks, the same pull, the same tension as you did. Because you swore you could see it in his eyes when he looked into yours, in his smile, his body language.

Surely, you were just imagining things.

It wasn't something you could focus on right now anyway, so you shoved those feelings as far away as you could. You had a Christmas party to plan.

December 18th, 1990.

Steve's house was bustling with large crowds of people, holiday music softly playing throughout the large common area, a 20 ft large Christmas tree tucked away neatly in a corner, decorated accordingly with expensive ornaments, gold and silver lights wrapped around it, with a stupid little angel right on the top.

Five senses.

There was a fragrance of white pine, vanilla and cinnamon in the air. Cheerful, well dressed people chatted amongst themselves with an optimistic tone to their voices. Twinkling lights hung from the ceiling and red ribbons wrapped around the grand staircase in an elegant fashion. Your hand was wrapped around a glass of wine, and damn, did that cabernet taste a little too good.

All of this was happening because of your careful planning, but you definitely weren't feeling the holiday spirit.

You'd been standing by the Christmas tree alone for 2 hours now, sipping your fourth glass of red wine as you people watched with a bitter look on your face.

Despite how you felt, you were looking good. Really good.

You were wearing a satin red dress that hugged your body just right, a slit along the side of the dress to your upper thigh. Your hair was done elegantly, and on your lips was the perfect shade of red just right for your skin tone, fit with diamond jewelry and strappy heels- courtesy of Steve, obviously.

Speaking of Steve, you watched him in your usual wallflower fashion, conversing with people you didn't recognize, laughing, and having a grand old time with his usual black suit and tie, and his stupid perfect hair.

You took another sip, feeling a little forgotten about, and a little vulnerable as you stood alone, watching the party near its end.

A few minutes went by, and Steve suddenly gathered everyone around for a toast. You hesitantly walked towards the crowd, and watched as he thanked everyone for coming, thanked the chefs, the decorators, the butlers, and then thanking you, taking you by surprise.

"And I'd like to thank my beautiful house manager here," Steve gestured towards you, raising his glass as the crowd turned to look at you, "she single-handedly planned every bit of this get together, and I'm so gratetul to her for making this such a wonderful party, and for being my greatest friend. You're amazing."

"Cheers!" Everyone exclaimed, nodding at you in approval, and Steve winked at you.

You couldn't help but smile, your cheeks getting hot, taking another sip of wine, and for a fleeting moment, you didn't feel so alone anymore, so inferior.

That all came crashing down quickly.

Just as you thought Steve was about to take your hand and ask you to dance, another woman practically threw herself onto him, insisting she dance with him. He was a little taken aback, but reluctantly agreed to dance with her, and you swore that she had flashed you the most evil grin you'd ever seen.

Maybe it was the feelings you had for Steve, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe both, but rage coursed through your body at the sight. You felt annoyed, revolted, hostile, jealous.

You began to step backwards from the two of them, tears stinging the corners of your eyes, your lip nearly quivering as you backed away.

You made your way to a nearby table and downed the rest of your glass, setting it down as you glared at the two of them. Steve glanced over to you and caught your eye, his smile quickly fading and a worried, almost remorseful expression taking over.

You didn't want to act out, ruin Steve's party, ruin your friendship with him, so you stormed away, navigating through the large, drunken crowd and walking out the backdoor to head to your own private house, trying not to let hot tears spill down your face.

You walked in and slammed the door behind you, locking it and kicking off your heels. You turned on the lights and headed to your bedroom, sat down on the soft blankets of your bed, and finally allowed your emotions to pour out of you, sobbing to yourself and cursing yourself, mascara running down your cheeks.

Why am I like this? Why do I feel like this? I'm so stupid. So fucking stupid. We dated for 3 months when we were just kids. We hardly even kissed. What the fuck is wrong with me? I'll just have to quit. Tell him I'm moving. Find him a new manager, one he can trust. One that won't fall in love with him. God, how could I be so fucking ungrateful?

You sat up from the bed, absolutely bawling, and stumbled on the plush carpet to your full length mirror. You stared at yourself for a while, taking in shaky breaths, taking note of the expensive dress, the expensive jewelry, the expensive makeup- now a mess on your face.

"So fucking ungrateful!" You scolded the reflection in the mirror.

It was only then did you hear your front door close shut, and Steve's voice calling out your name softly.

Your heart dropped to your stomach.

You quickly wiped the smeared makeup off of your face and tried to compose yourself, taking a deep breath.

You walked out to the living room where Steve stood awkwardly, holding a ring of keys in his hands.

"Hey, Harrington." You tried to muster a smile.

He frowned at your greeting, looking concerned.

"Hey. Uh, sorry, you looked upset, and I heard you crying, so I kinda let myself in."

"Oh." You sniffed.

There was a moment of silence, and you felt that he was standing much too far away from you. There was a lump in your throat, too hard and too much to explain yourself.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked, cautiously taking a step towards you.

"Yeah," you wiped another tear from your cheek, smiling, "yeah, I'm okay."

"Are you sure? Cause, you know, you're crying."

Silence again.

Steve sighed, "Do you wanna sit?"

"Um... sure." Your voice cracked.

You both sat down on the loveseat in the living room. You crossed your legs, fumbling with the rings on your fingers and avoiding eye contact with him. He held his hands together.

"I'm sorry for running out," you spoke up, "is everything okay back at the party?"

"Oh, don't be sorry, sweetheart," Steve assured you, "the party is ending now. Mostly everyone is gone."

"Oh, okay. I hope it was a good one."

"It was great, you always make it great," he smiled, resting a hand on your knee, making you feel a little nervous, "but can I ask... why are you crying?"

You attempted to laugh, brush your pain away like it never existed in the first place.

"Honestly, I just felt overwhelmed, and probably had too much to drink."

"Yeah, probably," he agreed, "but... there's something else, too."

You shook your head slightly, tears stinging your eyes again, not responding.

"Was it because of that girl I was dancing with?"

You finally glanced over to him.

"No." You replied in a small, fragile voice.

Steve sighed, leaning forward and gave your knee a squeeze.

"Well... I won't bother you. Maybe you can talk to me about it tomorrow. For now," he stood up, putting his hands on his hips, "why don't you eat something, drink some water, and get some sleep, okay?"

You nodded, still sitting down, "Okay. I'm so sorry, Steve."

He didn't speak for a moment, only peering down at you with an empathetic look, before slowly leaning over and holding your face gently with his hands, pausing as his face hovered yours, and placing a small kiss to your forehead.

"You've done nothing wrong. There's nothing for you to worry about," Steve whispered against your skin, making you look at him in his eyes, "okay?"

You gave him a sad, half smile, still feeling guilty despite his words, "Okay."

He stood back up, and walked slowly to the front door, turning the knob and opening it.

"Good night."

"Good night, Steve."

The next day, your alarm woke you, not having dreamt at all. Your eyes burned from crying, and your lips were chapped from heavy breathing. You turned off the alarm and stared at the ceiling, lost in thought, remembering everything that had occurred the night before. The party. Steve's toast. The woman. Running away. Crying. Talking to Steve. His hand on your knee. His words of reassurance. His kiss on your forehead.

You tried to put the puzzle pieces together in your mind.

Shouldn't he be mad at me? He's my boss. He's given me everything, just for me to throw a drunken hissy fit. He should have fired me. Or at least been upset with me. Is he upset with me? No, he said he wasn't. Wait, does he have feelings for me, too? No he doesn't. There's no way. Is there?

You begrudgingly got out of bed, and walked towards the same mirror you had the night before, looking at the disheveled, emotional wreck in front of you.

Nope. No way.

You went on to do your usual morning routine of coffee, showering and getting ready, thankful that you didn't have a hangover, when there was a sudden knock on your front door.

What the fuck?

You opened it hesitantly to find no one standing there, but a beautifully wrapped gift bag was on the ground, with a note attached to it.

You looked around outside, and grabbed the bag, bringing it inside and shutting the door. You took it to your bedroom and sat the gift on the bed, and opened the note that had your name on it.

I felt like I needed you to know that you're my closest friend above anything else. Take the day off, on me, okay? And please accept the gift I got for you, and don't say no, like you usually do. Consider it an early Christmas gift. Please put it on and meet me in my bedroom upstairs for a movie night at 8. See you then.

-Harrington (call me Steve)

You couldn't help but bite your lip and smile, your stomach fluttering and feeling excited, grateful for his generosity and patience with you.

You placed the note to the side and dug into the gift bag, and audibly gasped and nearly sobbed at the sight of what you pulled out.

It wasn't Calvin Klein, or Ralph Lauren. It wasn't a designer dress, or expensive high heels.

It was cheesy Christmas pajamas, and a pair of fuzzy slippers. Complete with a reindeer and snowflake design, and it was cheap, from JC Penny's.

You could've died happy right then and there, to receive such a humble and thoughtful gift from Steve. The old Steve, the Steve he still was, the one you'd always kept close to your heart for years.

You chose not to go out and treat yourself that day like he'd offered, instead, staying in your home, relaxing with some good books and watching TV. You tried to take a nap, but you were too overjoyed, too overwhelmed in all the right ways to even think about falling asleep as you watched the clock tick by, minute by minute.

At 7:50, you put on your pajamas and slippers, looking into the mirror, this time, with a much more optimistic look on your face. You decided not to opt for makeup, as tonight was movie night- a night of friendship, a night of Steve, a night that had occurred many times before during a summer years ago.

You exited your house and walked towards the backdoor of Steve's, nearly skipping with joy, and let yourself in.

You were surprised to not see any of his other staff around the house as you walked up the staircase, thinking he must have given them the night off.

You tiptoed down the long, dark hallway filled with glee, and saw a dim light coming from Steve's bedroom.

You approached the open door and gave it a little knock, making him turn around.

"Oops, seems as if there's been a wardrobe malfunction."

He was wearing the same fucking pajamas as you.

"Steve!" You laughed, eyeing him up and down as you walked in.

He lifted his arms up in the air and smiled.

"You like?" He motioned at his outfit, and bolted towards you, lifting you up and making you squeal.

"That's what I like to hear," he sighed with relief as he put you back down, "it's good to see you smile."

"Steve, you're such a dork." You giggled and shoved his shoulder playfully.

"The most handsome dork you've ever seen," he teased, "so, what do you wanna watch? I've got everything set up."

He motioned towards the wooden table on the bed. On it was a bottle of white wine accompanied with two glasses, a big bowl of popcorn, and an assortment of candy.

"I grabbed the cheapest bottle of wine I could find, I promise," he chuckled, running his hands through his hair, "tonight is gonna be like old times. Gotta remind you that I'm still a humble guy."

"I never doubted you were." You beamed at him.

Steve's cheeks turned red, and his body language went a little shy.

"So, I know I asked you what you wanna watch, but I picked up your favorite you told me, Heathers-"

"Yes!" You exclaimed, "yes, I love that movie!"

He smiled, "I know you do. Now... let's get comfy."

There was definitely something in the air, and it was heavy, as the two of you watched Winona Ryder act on screen, eating popcorn, laughing, finishing a glass of wine, and bodies increasingly getting closer and closer together throughout the movie.

You both lay back in his bed, eyes glued to the TV under soft blankets, when Steve reached his arm out behind you, and commanded a soft "C'mere."

You glanced at him, wide-eyed, as adrenaline raced through your body at his request, and you hesitantly scooted towards him a bit. You leaned down your head down gently to rest on his shoulder, but you were still much too far away from him.

Steve pulled you closer to his body, and hooked his other arm under your knees, curling your legs on his lap. You lightly gasped and chuckled nervously at the action, but he just let out a hum of contentment.

You reached an arm across him to hold his side, and nuzzled further into his warm chest. He placed a gentle kiss to your hair, and rested his face on your head, holding you closely to him with both of his arms.

Suddenly, it was really hard to pay attention to the movie. Suddenly, you almost forgot how to breathe. Suddenly, you were so close to Steve, but somehow still too far away. Suddenly, the world paused around you as you felt his soft heartbeat against his chest. Suddenly, nearly all your nerves ceased to exist. Suddenly, Steve felt like home.

Steve was home.

The ending credits started to play on the TV screen. You had the nagging urge that you should let go of him, that movie night was over, but you didn't want to move, didn't want to let him ago, wanted this feeling and this warmth to last forever.

He sat up for a moment, and your heart dropped at the loss of his closeness as he grabbed the table from the bed and placed it on the ground.

You pulled away from him, preparing to say goodnight and go back to your own home, when Steve asked, "Where are you going?"

You glanced over to him, lips parted, but didn't respond, didn't know how to.

"Stay."

He took his shirt off, staring at you with soft eyes, and laid back down onto his bed slowly, patting the sheets, motioning for you to join him.

You eagerly did, as you crawled back onto his mattress, laying down next to him. He pulled the blankets over the two of you and pulled you in closer to him with strong arms until your faces were mere inches apart, nearly nose to nose, heads resting on soft pillows.

Steve ran his fingers up and down your back delicately, gazing into your eyes, you gazing back into his own, the only light in the bedroom now coming from the moon through the windows, enough to study the details of each other's faces in comfortable silence.

You traced your fingers along his back, breathing in his intoxicating scent, as he tucked your hair behind your ear and whispered to you, feeling his warm breath on your lips.

"You look so beautiful like this."

"Steve..."

No more words needed to be spoken, as the moment the two of you existed in gave you all the answers you ever needed.

He held the back of your head, and with a shaky breath, pressed his mouth against yours gently. His lips felt like silk as you quickly kissed him back, cradling the side of his face with your hand.

He broke the long, drawn out kiss, opening his eyes slowly to stare into your own, as if to make sure it was okay, before doing it again, his fingers splayed messy along your cheek.

You hummed against his mouth, roaming your hand from his chest, up the soft skin of his shoulder, to the nape of his neck, the both of you kissing between heavy sighs, resting your foreheads against the other.

Steve sat up a bit, grasping your face and pulling it to his, kissing you a little harder, a little faster each time, soft inhales between them, and he pulled at your bottom lip, impatient, hungry, asking for more.

You gave into him immediately, eagerly, deepening the kiss and raking your fingers through his soft hair, pulling him into you as tongues collided, desperate but languid.

You whined into him and Steve swallowed the sound, driving him mad and making his breath shudder, licking across your bottom lip and sucking it into his mouth, letting it go with a pop.

You lightly gasped and grasped at the skin of his back, hands heavy all over each other as he tugged you even closer to him, pressing gentle but eager kisses along your jawline. You threw your head back to give him access, and he leaned his face into your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin. His hands roamed up your abdomen but stopped, and you quickly leaned back and pulled your shirt over your head, exposing your chest to him with needy eyes.

Steve groaned, whispering swears as you gave him permission to explore you, cupping your breasts and smoothing his fingers over your nipples as he continued to kiss and suck down your chest, which only made your body fill with heat, needing more.

You sat up and pushed yourself up against him, your lips finding his easily as you wandered your hands down his chest to the waistline of his pants, giving it a small tug.

He hissed against your mouth and broke the kiss, whispering, "Are you sure?"

"Please," you pleaded softly, "want you."

"Fuck," he let out a breathy laugh, "you're gonna kill me, baby."

You kissed along his collarbone, roaming your hands down again, and sighed as you felt his hard length against his leg, lightly stroking it.

Steve groaned at your touch, and frantically pulled his pajamas and boxers down his legs, throwing them to the side and freeing himself. He leaned down towards you again, making you lay flat against the bed, kisses sloppy and needy as he hovered over you, his hand smoothing from your breasts, down your stomach to tug at your own pants.

"Take 'em off." You whined on his lips.

He snaked his fingers in your waistline, and pulled your panties and pajamas down your legs swiftly, tossing them somewhere in the room.

He leaned back from you, lips parted, as he took in the sight of you, cheeks flushed.

"So pretty."

You bit your lip and reached for him, desperate to feel his closeness, but Steve had other ideas.

He smoothed his calloused hands up and down your thighs, before spreading them open, murmuring helplessly to himself as he leaned down, pressing open mouthed kisses to the soft skin of your stomach, trailing his mouth down until he was above your heat, making you quiver underneath him.

He slowly traced his fingers down your lower stomach to the apex of your thighs, gently swiping them between your folds, cursing to himself at how wet you were.

You moaned, voice wrecked, arching into Steve's hand, giving yourself to him, a sign of permission.

He lifted a leg up over his shoulder and slowly slipped a finger inside of you, a second joining quickly, hooking inside of you.

You gasped loudly, and he leaned over and pressed his lips back to yours, an attempt to calm your reaction, to soothe you, as he thumbed at your clit, sliding his fingers in and out of you.

You moaned softly, your hands grasping and pulling at his hair, and he hissed at the action, and you took note of how much he liked it.

Steve pressed one more gentle kiss to your swollen lips, before descending down your body, kissing your heat and removing his thumb, replacing it with his tongue as he swirled it around your clit heavy, taking it into his mouth and sucking on it greedily.

You grinded against his face, coming undone and moaning a mixture of his name and expletives as your orgasm took a hold of you quickly, Steve humming against your heat, working you through your high until you were a panting mess.

He pulled his fingers out of you, sitting up slowly and placing them in his mouth, sucking on them and groaning at the taste of you.

"Good girl," he praised you through whispers, kneading his thumbs into the plush of your thighs, "you did so good."

You huffed, sitting up, your legs trembling and took his hard length into your hand, stroking it and kissing him desperately.

His breath stuttered against your lips as your grip tightened around him, hissing as Steve grabbed your wrist to stop you.

"Sweetheart," his voice was strained, husky, "if you do that, I'm not gonna last long."

His palms smoothed up and down your sides, then groped your breasts, making your breath hitch.

"Me neither," your voice thick with emotion, "need you."

"Sh, okay, I got you baby girl."

Steve laid you back down on the bed gingerly, and just as you thought he was going to hover over you, he laid down next to you, pulling you close to him, face to face, and lifted your leg to rest on his hip.

"Need you close. Okay?" He looked in your eyes, glazed over with lust.

You nodded, breath shaky, cradling his jaw with your hand as you felt his bare length press against your wet heat, squirming for friction. He snaked his arms under yours to hold you tight, his left hand on your lower back, his right grasping your ass.

He shifted his hips to align himself with your entrance, sucked in a sharp inhale, and pushed himself inside of you.

You both gasped loudly at the feeling, clutching at each other desperately, and Steve kissed you, swallowing your moans as he continued to inch inside of you, pushing in and out of you slowly until your walls took him in fully, his cock disappearing inside you completely.

Your bodies were flushed, skin warm as you felt him stretch you out every place you needed so badly, massaging your inner walls, the both of you in a state of utter bliss, euphoria and love, your lips kissing lazy and sloppy against each other, your slick making it easy for him to rock into you at a pace that wasn't too slow, wasn't too fast, but was amazingly deep and romantic.

You whimpered into his mouth as Steve continued to fuck into you, making him snap his hips into your spongy spot abruptly, and the both of you cursed, moaning each other's names, your voices stuttering, and your tongues gliding over each other messy.

Steve wasn't going to last long, you could tell by the way he bit back his moans, the beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, his hips jerking as you felt his length grow even harder inside of you.

Thankfully, you were on the edge too- heat beginning to pool in your lower back, your muscles tightening, goosebumps spreading across your skin as he continued to hit that delicious spot inside of you, the friction of his trail of body hair rubbing against your clit with each thrust, making you lose composure.

You raked your hands through his soft, mussed hair and tugged, earning a moan from him as he pressed open mouthed kisses along your jaw and neck, and Steve smiled against your skin when your walls tightened around him, getting the hint.

"You gonna cum?" He panted through thrusts, his voice gravelly.

"Yes- oh, fuck Steve-"

"Me- jesus christ- me too," he rasped, "cum with me, please, you look so pretty-"

His words were enough to send you over the edge as the world crashed around you, tears prodding at your eyes as your gut tightened and shockwaves gripped every inch of your skin, your orgasm bursting within you.

Steve felt you tighten and pulse around him as he rocked into you through your high, kissing you feverishly along your cheek and neck. The sound of your voice when you cried out his name made him bite down on your shoulder.

His hips stuttered and with a few more deep, powerful thrusts, his vision blurred as he spilled himself deep inside of you, groaning against your mouth as you kissed him sweetly until his movements stilled.

You slumped into each other, your limbs liquid, as the both of you tried to catch your breath. Steve pressed his forehead against yours, eyes hooded and heavy, skin warm and sticky, feeling lightheaded, and you both let out a breathy laugh of relief, a content sigh, as if this is what the two of you should have been doing all along.

You both held each other this way for a while, in comfortable silence, enjoying the closeness of each other's presence, the warmth and coziness of one another's bodies, hands smoothing over hair and skin, lips kissing the other's softly until you both finally caught your breath.

Steve eventually slid himself out of you with an exhale, and you shuddered at the loss. He pulled you in tightly to him, cradling you, limbs entangled and he rubbed circles into your cheek.

"Can I talk first?" He asked in a hushed voice.

You nodded, pursing your lips.

"I trust you. I know you. And I don't want anyone but you."

You beamed at him, tears glossing over your eyes, your heart blooming.

"I love you."

You lightly gasped at his confession, and he waited patiently for your response.

You kissed him, long and drawn out before speaking.

"I love you, Steve."

"Really?"

You nodded eagerly, "Really."

"Good." Another sigh of relief.

"So," you traced your fingers along his back, "What happens now?"

Steve chuckled, "Now? Now, you're mine," he cradled the side of your face, "you don't work for me. You're my girl. You're mine."

You smiled, and you could've died happy right then and there.

"And I want to give you everything."

Spicier Part 2 here

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