#what else is new really it's disney after all

[e-adlirez]

So the other other day I went to Disney On Ice with my family and the moment I saw them, I developed one hell of a hankering for a snow cone. I knew I wanted one (despite New Zealand winter being in more-or-less full force) and I knew I had some money, so I went to scout the stalls selling them in the venue and see which one sold them for the cheapest price. If not from the Disney-themed stalls (which are always overpriced and always just for the merch inextricably tied to them), then from the stalls the venue itself had, because they actually had those and didn't completely restrict us to sacrificing our wallets to the big mouse.

Spoiler alert: THE ONLY STALLS THAT HAD THEM WERE THE DOI STALLS

AND THE SNOW CONES COST 25 NZD A PIECE

(For conversion to USD, multiply by 0.6)

I never wound up buying a snow cone ;m;

I'm still craving one to this day, three days after the event wrapped up ;m;

[cosmicdahlias]

And They Were Roommates

Logan Howlett x Reader

MINORS DNI

Your roommate, Wade Wilson, brings home an alcoholic Canadian bastard with knifes in his knuckles. After a month of putting up with him, an argument between you two goes in an unexpected direction.

tags: hard drugs mention, marijuana mention, alcohol usage, age difference, enemies to lovers, slapping, claws, hate fucking, mdom/fsub, breeding, degradation, praise kink, belt usage, choking, p in v, knifeplay (counting claw usage as knifeplay lmao), blood, creampie, possible impreg, aftercare, oral, multiple orgasms (emphasis on multiple), overstimulation

i’ve recently started watching the xcu movies after deadpool and wolverine dropped on disney+ and MY GODDDDDD have i been missing out!!! i’ve been an mcu girlie for so long (plus deadpool). the x-men movies are so fun but alsoooooo uhhhh hugh jackman as logan??? HELLO??? i need this man biblically like it’s not even funny. i have yet to watch logan (2017) but i’ve seen edits on tiktok and WHOA MAMA talk about a silver fox!!! also fun fact male wolverines bite down on the female’s neck during mating and i couldn’t resist including that in this fic. animalistic logan is THE BEST logan 👌

You were Wade Wilson’s friend turned roommate. You first knew each other through your other roommate, Althea, a blind woman who went by Al. At one point in time you were Al’s dealer before giving up that life once you got your degree and found steady employment. You never dabbled in the devil’s dandruff like Al did, as with the rest of gen Z, your drug of choice was weed. Your friends often asked why you chose an old woman and a mutant in his forties as roommates, but honestly rent was cheap and that was all you cared about.

You hadn’t seen Wade in a few days, he mysteriously disappeared during his birthday party. Neither you, nor any of his friends had any idea what had happened to him. You knew he’d kinda hit a rough’ish point in his life, giving up his assassin alter ego by the name of Deadpool for becoming a car salesman. You wondered if he had gone off on some sort of bender, but you honestly didn’t know.

You had just gotten off of work and opened the door to your apartment. Getting home took longer than expected, half of your street was cordoned off, from the damage looked like a bombing was the cause. You sat on the couch and pulled out your phone, trying to see if the local news had covered what had happened when door unlocked and swung open.

Wade walked in, sporting the iconic red suit you hadn’t seen him wear in six years. He was carrying the most… unique looking dog you’d ever seen and he was accompanied by a man with a rugged appearance who was wearing pants of similar material as Wade’s suit and nothing else. The stench of blood permeated the room.

“Al, I’m back.” Wade said.

“She’s out. Dude, where the hell have you been?” You asked.

“Oh no big deal, just saved the entire multiverse from total annihilation. I’m Marvel Jesus now.” Wade answered.

You elected to ignore his explanation. You never knew why you asked what he’d gotten up to whenever he wore that suit, none of it ever made a lick of sense to you.

“Who’s the dog?”

“Her? This four legged scrotum is Mary Puppins, or as I like to call her, Dogpool. Something… unfortunate happened to her last owner, so I’m her papá now.” Wade said cheerfully.

Knowing him, he definitely had something to do with whatever happened to her previous owner, but that wasn’t what you were asking about.

“Cute, but I was talking about the washed up Abercrombie & Fitch greeter next to you.”

The man rolled his eyes.

“Ohhhh, yeah that’s Logan. He’s gonna be crashing here for a while.”

“Wait, hold the fuck up. You disappear for days and you just show up in the suit you haven’t worn in years, reeking of blood, telling me some shirtless dude who also smells like blood is gonna live here like it’s no big deal?”

“Well funny thing is he doesn’t exactly know anyone else around here, not really his fault since I had to pull him from his universe and bring him here to save ours. May or may not have done so to a choir rendition of Madonna. You know, typical multiverse stuff and whatnot. I mean we’re Disney property now and that’s the horse they’re beating to death at the moment.” Wade answered.

Once again ignoring the exposition dump, you continued to protest.

“You can’t be serious, Wade! This is a two bed apartment. You and Al already share a room, so where the fuck are you gonna put him?”

“Isn’t that a couch you’re sitting on?” Logan scoffed.

“Oh perfect, so I can’t even use the goddam living room anymore?” You asked, growing even more irritated by Logan’s input.

“Jesus, you’re just a fuckin’ princess, aren’t you?” Logan huffed.

You glared at him before turning your attention back to Wade.

“Do I literally not get a say in this like at all? Even though I live here and pay my share of the rent?”

“Look, I promise it’s temporary. Just until he gets his footing in this universe. It won’t be so bad, I mean look him, total eye candy.” Wade said, gripping Logan’s face and turning his head to you.

Logan gave him a look that could kill. Long metal claws sprung out from just below his knuckles. Your eyes widened.

“THE FUCK ARE THOSE?” You shouted.

“Riiiiiiiight, so those are adamantium claws. They ain’t vibranium, but hey, can’t always be the number one. He’s a bonafide animal, in more ways than one, maybe you’ll find out for yourself.” Wade said, you could tell he was winking underneath his mask.

“The fuck do you mean by that?” Logan growled.

“Yeah, what?” You asked.

“Hey, I know sexual tension when I see it.” Wade retorted.

“I literally just met him.” You said.

“Yeah and with Hugh Jackman’s face and body, the time between introduction and need for face riding is a matter of seconds.” Wade said.

You gave a quick glance at Logan. Sure, he was incredibly attractive, but you sensed a sort of emotional unavailability that put you off. You had standards.

“You know my type and he’s not it, Wade.” You insisted.

“Forget type, he’s THE Wolverine. You know how many fanfics people read about this guy? Lookin’ at you, reader.” Wade said.

“Whatever, I’m not getting into a debate over my preferences for men.” You said, walking to your room and slamming the door.

“I think that went well.” Wade said.

-

A month had passed and much to your dismay, you were still being forced to share the apartment with Logan. At the very least he’d upgraded to wearing a shirt instead of walking around with his top half exposed.

After getting home from an exhausting shift at work, you opened the fridge, looking for the bottle of wine you saved for those evenings after a particularly long day. It was nowhere to be seen and you immediately knew who the culprit was.

“For fuck’s sake, Logan!” You shouted.

You headed to the living room to confront what was supposed to be your temporary roommate who sat on the couch.

“Christ, what now?” He groaned.

“Where the fuck is my wine?”

“Hm? Oh that? Yeah, it’s gone.” He answered dismissively, almost like taking time to respond or even look at you was beneath him.

“How many times do I have to tell you to keep your barely functioning alcoholic ass away from my stuff?”

“Didn’t see your name on it.”

“I specifically told you not to touch that fucking bottle multiple times.”

“Must’ve not been able to distinguish what you said from your typical bitching, I usually just tune that shit out.” He said, still not making eye contact with you.

“Jesus you really have no respect for anyone.” You spat.

Logan stood, coming in way too close for your liking.

“Respect? That’s a really funny word coming from someone who doesn’t respect themselves enough to not wear short little skirts like the one you’re wearing, bending over all the time to show off that ass.”

“Excuse me?”

“Oh you fuckin’ heard me. You think I don’t see what you’re doing with the clothes you wear, or when you come out in the morning in nothing but a shirt and panties because you think I’m asleep and won’t notice?”

“Back the fuck up, the hell do you mean by ‘think’ you’re asleep?”

“I barely sleep enough as it is, I’m awake the second I hear your door open. You have any idea what seeing you like that does to me?”

You blushed.

“You’re fucking disgusting.” You said through gritted teeth.

“Please, you do it because you hope I’m watching you. I see the way you look at me. You can say you hate me all you fuckin’ want, but I can smell your goddam pheromones from across the room. I’ve been around for over two centuries and have more than enough experience to know when someone wants me. Especially when they’re acting like as much of a slut as y-“

You slapped him hard across the face. Logan immediately responded by pushing you up against the wall, unsheathing his claws and holding them under your chin. Neither of you said anything, the only sounds being a mix of him and you panting in anger.

Fuck, you had really grown to hate him, but something about his claws so dangerously close to you was playing into your kinks. You stole a glance down under, holy shit he was hard. You grabbed him by the face, kissing him aggressively. His claws retracted and he let his hands travel to your waist, pulling you closer.

“Mmf- fuckin’ knew it.” He said between kisses.

Logan picked you up by the underside of your thighs and carried you to your bedroom, his lips never once leaving you. He threw you down onto the bed, pulling your shirt over your head and unhooking your bra, tossing it aside. He took in the sight of your exposed chest.

“You’re such a pretty little thing, babygirl.”

His rough, calloused hand cupped your breast. He leaned down and you gave a yelp as he bit and tugged your nipple.

Logan chuckled. “Sensitive, aren’t you?”

You kissed him as you pulled his shirt off and traced your fingers along the dip between his abs. He unbuckled his belt, unzipping his jeans and slipping them off. Your eyes widened at the size of his cock, he laughed at your reaction.

“Yeah, like it don’t you?” He smirked.

“How the hell am I supposed to enjoy this if you’re gonna tear me in half?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t want it like that, I can tell you like it rough.”

“That’s a bold assumption to make.”

“Yeah? Keep telling yourself that.”

Logan pulled off your skirt and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your panties, slipping them down your legs. He looked at your pussy with pure animalistic lust.

“Fuuuck babygirl, look how wet you already are for me. You got it that bad for older men, huh?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You retorted.

“Oh I don’t have to, the way you’re dripping says more than enough.”

“Just shut up and fuck me already.”

You laid back on the bed with your head against the pillow and Logan flipped you over on your stomach, pulling you up to your hands and knees.

“No, you don’t get missionary. You act like a bitch? You’re getting fucked like one.”

Logan reached for his belt, he raised it, bringing it down sharply on your ass, making you squeal.

“This is what you get for being such a fuckin’ brat. From now on you call me ‘sir’, understand?”

“Like hell I will.“

He lashed you again.

“Keep talking back and see what happens. Now, what do you say?”

“Y- yes sir.”

“There you go. I’ll be nicer if you listen to me… maybe.”

Logan looped the belt around your neck.

“I’m keeping you on a leash in case you continue making smart comments.” He smirked.

“As if that’s gonna shut m- hrrrk!”

He pulled it tight, the leather dug into your skin and constricted your throat. The most you could get out was a strained moan.

“Got nothin’ to say to me now, huh? C’mon, tell me how much you hate me.” Logan mocked as he pulled harder.

You looked back at him and mouthed “fuck you”.

He laughed. “Oh I will.”

He pressed the tip of his cock against your slit for a fraction of a second before sharply forcing his full length deep inside you, causing you to cry out as his intimidating girth stretched you wide. He began to fuck you at a ruthless pace, the sounds of your yelps and squeaks filling the room.

“Poor thing, am I hurting you? It’s okay, I’m only fucking you senseless.” He teased.

His free hand gripped your ass, nails digging into your skin.

“Jesus Christ, you’re so fuckin’ tight. It’s like your little pussy was made for my cock.” He grunted.

Logan leaned down, sucking your neck, leaving mark after mark, his hand letting the belt loosen.

“You’re gonna look so pretty all marked up by me.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Are you seriously giving me hickeys? Really? What are you thirtee- ngh!”

Logan pulled tight on his belt again, keeping you from finishing your snide remark.

His thrusts became more aggressive, and as much as your feelings about Logan confused you, his cock felt incredible. You moved yourself back on him and he growled in approval.

“Yeah that’s it, take this fat cock like a perfect little slut. So good for me.”

He let go of the belt, both hands moving to your hips. His pace became punishingly fast and brutal. Between his growls and the way he fucked you like a dog, he honestly seemed more animal than man.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ breed you, I don’t care if you’re on the pill or not.”

You whimpered and tightened around him at his words. He smirked.

“Oh you like that?”

You nodded.

“Yeah? You wanna get knocked up? Tell me you want it, babygirl. Lemme hear you say it.”

“I need you to cum in me, get me pregnant. Please.” You begged.

He stopped his thrusts with only his head remaining inside you. He grabbed you by the throat and pulled you up against him, pressing his chest to your back.

“Please, what?” He commanded.

“Please, sir.”

He shoved you down onto the mattress and slammed himself fully back inside you, immediately resuming his vicious pace.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl.”

He panted like a wild animal, his claws slowly extending as he grew close.

“S- shit, sorry. Happens sometimes.” He said.

You tightened around him.

“Use them on me, hurt me, sir. Please, I need it so bad.” You whined.

“Goddam, you’re a fuckin’ freak. Aren’t ya, babygirl?”

He raked his claws down your back, you moaned obscenely loud as pearls of blood formed from the long slits he’d created. The mere sensation of it all immediately caused you to cum on his cock. The feeling of you pulsing around his shaft pushed him over the edge. He grunted as he buried himself to the hilt and leaned over, biting down hard on your neck, capillaries breaking under your skin. His cock throbbed with every rope of cum he shot into you.

“Fuuuuckin’ Christ, it’s not often I find someone that’s as into the hardcore stuff as me.” He chuckled.

Your whole body shook and you collapsed onto the mattress on your stomach. Logan removed his belt from your neck and got off the bed.

“Stay there, don’t move.” He said, pulling on his jeans and leaving the room.

He returned five or so minutes later with gauze, a roll of medical tape, and a wet hand towel.

“Had to really dig around for some of this stuff, when two out of four roommates regenerate there’s not a real demand.“

Logan got back onto the bed, sitting next to you.

“So what’s it like? To not heal immediately?” He asked as he dabbed at the blood on your back.

“I dunno, I never really thought about it. I guess you just deal with the pain for a few days, weeks, or months depending on what it is until it’s fine again.”

Logan chuckled.

“Sometimes I forget just how fragile everyone else is, until the world reminds me of it again and then…” He trailed off.

You could tell there was a heaviness to the latter half of his words, you knew why. Wade had told you that in Logan’s universe (a concept which took weeks for you to fully grasp) every single one of his fellow mutants had been murdered. You didn’t know the details, but you didn’t need to for you to understand why he was the way that he was. You looked up at him.

“It wasn’t your fault.” You said softly.

“What do you-“ his brow furrowed. “What did Wade tell you?” He growled as he covered his claw marks with gauze.

“Don’t get mad, I just- I wanted to know why you act like-“

“A dick?” He scoffed, pulling out a few inches of medical tape from the roll.

“Like someone with severe trauma.”

He went silent and looked away from your gaze as he finished adding the last line of tape to secure the gauze.

“…You’re all patched up.”

You moved to get up and dress yourself, but Logan wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you back onto the mattress.

“No, c’mere. Lay back for me.”

“Do I still have to call you ‘sir’?

“It’s alright, you can call me ‘Logan’ again. This is about making you feel good, not me. I think I owe you one for being such a good girl.”

You laid with your head against the pillow and Logan began to kiss his way down the length of your body until his head was between your thighs. His lips were so close to your pussy that you could feel the heat of his breath.

“Didn’t peg you for the kinda guy that gives head.”

“You thought wrong. I’m eating this pussy until you’re shaking for me.”

His lips met your clit, his tongue rolling and circling it. You moaned and tangled your fingers in his hair.

“Fuckin’ Christ, your scent is addictive.” He growled against you, making you shudder as the deep vibrations went straight to your clit.

You bucked your hips and he moved his hands to them, keeping you in place.

“Eeeeasy there. I know it feels good, but you can’t move around like that if I’m gonna eat you out, babygirl.”

He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them at just the right spot to absolutely send you over the edge. Your breath shuddered as you tightened around him.

“That’s it. C’mon, be a good girl and cum for me.”

You gripped his hair harder as you came undone on his tongue, pulsing around his fingers.

“Fuuuuuck, Logan!”

Your back arched off the bed, he pressed a hand to your stomach, holding you down.

“No, I’m not done with you yet.”

He continued sucking and licking your clit, his fingers fucking you hard and fast. You shook, feeling a second orgasm build. Your head cocked back as all of the nerves in your body ignited in pleasure for a second time. You expected Logan to remove his mouth, but he kept going.

“Fuck, I can’t stop. You’re just too goddam perfect when you cum.”

You moaned loudly, your clit throbbing in his mouth as you came for a third time, cursing like a sailor and writhing against his tongue.

“You doing good there, babygirl?” Logan asked.

“Uh-huh.” You murmured.

At some point everything went hazy and you lost track of just how many times he’d made you cum. The more you had, the quicker the next one came, until it was one immediately after another. You were a shaking, stuttering mess.

“L- Logan, I ca- an’t keep going. I- it’s too m- much.”

“Shhh, you’re okay. Just one more time, I promise.”

He pumped his fingers relentlessly, his tongue working your clit at an equally vigorous pace. Every muscle in your body tensed as the most intense orgasm you had ever felt in your life rocked you to your very core and everything went white for a moment.

“Ohhhhh godddd, Logan. You’re gonna fucking kill meeee.” You groaned.

Logan moved himself to get on top of you, kissing you deeply.

“I’m sorry babygirl. I know I pushed you hard, but you did so well for me.” He whispered softly, holding your face in his hand and stroking your cheek with his thumb.

He laid next to you, pulling you to him, his chest pressed against your back as your post orgasm haze finally subsided.

“Never saw you as the cuddling type.” You said.

“Depends on how I feel about whoever I’m fucking, and unfortunately for me I’m starting to actually like you.”

“And what did I do to deserve that?”

“Well, you’re still a total bitch, but you’re actually pretty sweet when you want to be. I like you that way though, makes things interesting. I’ll admit when you slapped me I got so fuckin’ hard.”

“So, you’re saying I should slap you more often?”

“I’m not saying no, but just expect to lose the ability to walk after I fuck it out of you.”

“You got yourself a deal.”

He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.

“Good. Now, there’s something you should know. Regeneration doesn’t just mean that I heal quickly.” He said, pressing the hard bulge in his jeans against you.

“Holy shit, so… we could fuck all night without stopping?”

“Exactly.”

“Then what the hell are we doing just lying here?”

Logan turned you onto your back, getting on top of you.

“Attagirl, let’s fuckin’ go.”

-

The two of you spent the whole night fucking like rabbits nonstop. When morning came you made your way to the kitchen. Logan followed, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you from behind as you made yourself a cup of coffee. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, taking in your scent.

“I hope you know I’m never gonna get enough of you.” He said, his hands traveling underneath your shirt to your breasts.

“I swear, you’re hornier than a dog that hasn’t had his balls chopped off.” You teased.

“Yeah and you love it.”

“There you go with the assumptions again, you’re so right though.” You purred, turning to him.

“I know I am.”

His lips met yours and he lifted you onto the counter. You laced your fingers in his hair and wrapped your legs around him. Both of you were too focused on each other to notice the sound of a door opening. Wade walked out from the room he shared with Al carrying Mary Puppins.

“Judging by the NC-17 noises I heard all night I’m guessing you two had fun.” Wade said, causing you to jump and pull away from Logan.

“For fuck’s sake, do you not know when to leave people alone?” Logan huffed.

“Oh c’mon peanut, you know boundaries aren’t my forte. It’s my toxic trait.”

Logan glared at him.

“Alright alright, I can take a hint. Just try not to get any fluids on the appliances. I certainly don’t mind a little Wolvie in my coffee, but I don’t think Al would appreciate it.” Wade said, heading back to his room.

Logan turned his attention back to you, his lips brushing against yours.

“Now, babygirl, where were we?”

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

IT'S NOT JUST HAIR!

Platonic yandere Batfam x Weird Black!Reader

It's not just hair; it's never just hair. It's history—years and years of history. It's culture—years and years of culture. It runs in your family, from woman to man, from grandma to grandpa. It's religion; it's family. It was never just hair, and you know that. You can smell the cocoa butter and olive oil being pressed between your braids, feeling the soft, smooth fingers of your mother braiding your hair down to your shoulders. It was never just hair; it was so much more, and you can't even explain it.

"What do you think, baby? Do you like it?" A small mirror was handed to you; a wide smile crossed your face. You moved your head to the side to see a small star on the side of your head. The cornrows were beautiful, with little brown and tan beads at the bottom. It was amazing. You put her face against yours; you two almost looked like siblings.

"I take that as a yes, then," she said, holding back a giggle. You nod your head profusely; a big grin spreads across her face.

"It's beautiful, Mommy! It's amazing!" You were so giddy with joy. Your mother always did your hair; you would complain and cry that it hurt, but the finished product was always worth it. She would put you between her legs, your head on her thigh, as she brushed through the tangles, and the TV would blaze with old Disney movies. You didn't care about the hair of those Disney princesses; your hair was already beautiful, it was already amazing, it was already outstanding because it was yours and it was like no one else's. Sometimes, your mom would bring you to her favorite hair salon, and the lady would let you read old magazines with all different types of hairstyles for Black women from the 80s to the 90s to the 2000s. It would make your little brain go wild with all those colors, and you would hear all the ladies' gossip; it was like your own personal haven. And when your mom was down, your mouth would drop—the woman in front of you was your mother.

"How do I look, baby?" she would say, running her hands through her fresh braids.

"They look amazing!" you yelled, giggling.

But now you're in a manor, and the thing is, no one in this whole family knows anything about your hair, and not even Alfred can help you. So you just wore an afro; you let your hair grow out and picked your hair. You were never embarrassed or insecure about your hair until now, when you saw a news post from a Wayne family page.

"Why is [Name] Wayne's hair so big? It's not fit for galas. I mean, look at it! It's inappropriate for business or the red carpet. They should really get it fixed." There was more posted after that, and the more the Daily Planet made articles about it, the bigger it became. Your hair would always be a topic of discussion, whether at home or at school. You'd tried to hide it, tried to pretend it wasn't there, but how could you? It's always there; it's your hair; it's always yours.

"It's okay, [Name], it's just hair." No, it's not; it's not just hair. The relaxer box was right in front of you, the little Black girls smiling with their straightened hair and bangs. "It's just hair," you thought, and you let it just be hair. You put the white substance in your hair, letting it burn and straighten it. You rinsed your hair and dragged that flat iron along it, the curls going straight. Your hair reached down to your shoulders now; you looked like Barbara and Stephanie and everyone else in the family. Now you looked like you were meant to be here, not just some random child of Bruce Wayne. You looked like a true Wayne, not just a [Last Name]. And people started liking your hair, and you began to like it—love it, even—getting more attention because of it. You brushed that hair out, just to see a clump of your hair... What is this? More hair started to fall out in little clumps.

"AHH!" you cried out, seeing them drop on the bathroom floor. Your eyes started tearing up; you looked up into the mirror, seeing your mother through the glass.

"Oh, baby, you had such beautiful hair. I love it so much. Why would you change it, sweetie? Why would you hide it?" she said, her dead eyes looking so sorrowful.

"It's just hair, Mommy," you whispered, tears running down your face.

"It's not just hair, baby, it's years and years of history, it's culture, it's everything." Her hand touched your scalp, stroking it.

"But the press and the..." you mumbled.

"What do they know? There's nothing like you, and you know that. Why do you care about what they say? It's not their hair; it's yours. It's always been yours! Why would you kill it, baby? It was always yours!" You wiped your face, and that was the day you went back to your old neighborhood and visited that old hair salon. You got to meet the ladies who helped raise you. Your mom was right; it was never just hair. It was community; it was culture; it was family. It was yours, and you're not a Wayne; you're an [Last Name], no matter what.

[defututus]

Baggage Claim Reunion

modern!rockstar!eddie Munson x reader

masterlist

summary: Corroded Coffin is finally home after their first supporting tour in the UK and you get to pick them up.

word count: 5.3k

content warning: established relationship, fluff, more fluff, some language, references to sex and a dom/sub relationship that I'll explore at some point, overall you and Eddie are just happy to be reunited.

author's note: this came to me as I was waiting for @corroded-hellfire to pick me up from the airport when I visited her. I stewed on the idea for a little bit before deciding to write it and I'm really happy with how it turned out!

Also, I'm starting a general taglist if anyone is interested 👉👈

Indianapolis International Airport was buzzing with people in the evening. Most of the individuals walking by look like they’d rather be anywhere else right now as they slump over in the chairs waiting for their luggage or lean against the handles of their carry-on bag. It was amazing to see how some people dressed there. You saw people dressed from head to toe in new Disney merch, in their pajamas, suits, the whole nine yards. Indiana was finally blessed with a few warm days around this time of year so you drove to the airport in a sweatshirt and some pajama pants. The occasion was exciting but did not warrant dressing up since you’d be going to bed right after. You even tried to nap earlier in the day but the anticipation for today’s events kept you wide awake. Hell, you’re probably the only one at the arrivals gate full of energy as you anxiously bounce on your slippered feet waiting for the passengers of an 11-hour flight from Helsinki to return home. 

Corroded Coffin had finally made it and was invited to open up for another band on the European leg of their tour. Everyone was so ecstatic when they got the call from the band's agent and began preparing. Eddie quickly got the necessary time off from work approved (one of the perks of Wayne’s new promotion to shop manager), passports were renewed, visas expedited, and before you all could even process what was happening you waved goodbye as Corroded Coffin flew off to tour for the next month. It was hard for you to adjust to your apartment being so quiet. Eddie was always coming over to stay the night to the point that you’d joke he should just move in. Maybe you’d suggest that after dropping everyone off when they arrived home. The band would have weekly hang outs every Saturday night at your place and would sometimes culminate in a sleepover with you all sprawled out across the living room. Your head more often than not would end up on Eddie’s shoulder and his arm draped across your shoulder. It was weird to go so long without him humming a tune or tapping his fingers against something. It almost didn’t feel like home without him. 

Eddie would call you after every show and you’d spend as much time as possible catching up on each other's day before he had to go help with loading up the van and promise to call again the next day. There’s the usual back and forth about who should hang up first until one person gives in, or in some cases one of the band members takes the phone and hangs up for you guys. They don’t do it to be mean, but they all know that if they don’t do it then Eddie will make them late for load out almost every night. 

You miss Eddie’s warmth, his contagious laughter, the way he always had a corny joke or compliment when you were in a bad mood. Hell, you even missed when he was trying to be annoying. You missed every part of him and as proud as you were to see Corroded Coffin get the attention they deserved, you also wanted your best friend and boyfriend back. The distance made you realize how hard it was to function without him. Sure, he had done other tours before, but the time difference left you two with little time to chat and it made you feel lonely. Your other half was missing.

You get to the baggage claim earlier than expected, having looked up the map of the airport the night before to avoid getting lost. The universe must have sensed your desperation because there was barely any traffic during rush hour. Once you strode through the glass doors, you find the carousel everyone’s luggage would be dropped off and park yourself on a bench facing the gate. According to the boards plastered around the airport, Corroded Coffin’s grueling nonstop flight had landed and their luggage was being delivered to the baggage area, meaning your boys would be arriving soon. There’s a small food court near the baggage claim and still had plenty of time left before the guys come out, so you take the opportunity to get some food for yourself. It’s not much, settling for a quesadilla and bag of tortilla chips with queso. You’ll eat that and let the boys fight over the bag when you drive them all home.

Your phone nearly died earlier and you needed it to get home from the airport so you resort to the age-old activity of people watching to make time pass by easily. You watch exhausted families carrying their sleeping children, pilots and flight attendants heading to and from work, and count at least four adorable dogs that make you want to abandon your post waiting for the band so you can say hello to them. There was even a man who sat near you with what was possibly the funniest, most wrinkly English Bulldog you had ever seen. His name was Hank and you were so excited to tell Eddie about him when you two were finally reunited

You were so excited to see everyone – mainly Eddie – that your heart began to pound every time you saw a group of people approach the baggage claim, but found yourself immensely disappointed every time when you learned it was not Corroded Coffin. There was a surprising amount of tall white men with long brown hair. Were you being tortured? It sure felt like it.

Twenty torturous minutes later and you finally see a familiar group of people approaching the baggage area. Leading the pack is Jeff, who is chugging the last of his water and shoving it in his backpack. Grant and Gareth are passionately arguing about something with Gareth enthusiastically jumping as if the added height would help prove his point. Behind those two is a drained looking Eddie with a can of Monster in his hand and his guitar slung over his back. Eddie insisted he take the guitar as a carry-on because he didn’t trust anyone to handle it with care. The rest of the band’s equipment was being shipped back to the States and would arrive in a few weeks.

 He had changed his hair a bit before leaving for tour by getting an undercut and you never realized how much a change in hairstyle could affect his confidence levels. His self-esteem got a big boost once Corroded Coffin began to take off, but this new haircut really helped him.. The longer portion of his hair was tied back into a loose bun to show off the shaved back. You joked that he did it solely to show more of his neck to you since you had a habit of biting it. He had headphones on and wasn’t really paying attention to the argument going on in front of him, looking as exhausted as everyone else in the building, but with little more curiosity about this part of the building and the amenities that surrounded them. He wore a faded Corroded Coffin hoodie (he insisted on repping the band whenever possible) with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his tattoo sleeves and a pair of gray sweatpants, your personal favorite. Eddie was definitely dressing for comfort in this case, although you’d make the case that he looks good no matter what. He looked tired, the long flight most likely taking whatever energy he had left before the show, but somehow he looked as perfect as ever.

 Grant is the one to spot you first and waves in your direction. You throw your half-eaten meal down into the large to-go bag it came in and drop it on the floor to dart in their direction. Eddie doesn’t see you barreling over to them, instead taken by the large sculpture near the elevators. It’s not until he hears you yell, “Welcome back!” that he realizes his favorite person is finally here to take them all home that he tugs his headphones off his ears. The metalhead pushes through to the front of the group and meets you halfway to pick you up and twirl you around. He had never looked happier, all semblance of exhaustion wiped off his face the second he had you in his arms.

You’re both smiling at each other and start giggling when he spins you around. Your reunion is like something out of a movie. The world slows down around you as your attention lies solely on Eddie, his eyes, his smile, his everything. The rest of his band watches from afar to allow you both to have this moment. Eddie had a smile on their face that they didn’t see often - it was usually after a great show or whenever you two were apart and he finally saw you again. They collectively decided to keep their mouth shut about how much he’d complain about missing you. Always moaning about how he wished you were there with them, how he wished you saw what he did on stage (you have social media, you saw every second of every show), and how he missed talking to you. Eddie called you every day yet he acted like he hadn’t spoken to you in years. It was easy to just let him have his moment with you while they all waited to collect their luggage at the appropriate carousel as it began dropping out of the chute. 

Eddie’s spinning slows down until he’s just standing there with you in his arms.. He loosens his grip enough to place you down on the floor but immediately pulls you in for a tight hug. If there was one thing about Eddie that you liked to share with people, it was the fact that he gave the most amazing hugs. He would hold you so tightly you felt that he might actually break something if he were any stronger. Years of working odd jobs and later at the mechanic led to him building enough muscle so he finally filled out his shirts and could lift anything with ease. Hauling gear was easy for him, and he particularly took joy in throwing you around like a ragdoll, whether during sex or just to wrestle around and get you to laugh. Right now, it felt like he was trying to squeeze the air out of your lungs. All the love he had for you was fueling the hug’s strength. You reciprocated the embrace as much as you could, still feeling a bit giggly because your boy was finally home. Your face is buried in his neck to take in his scent. It was intoxicating. You had started using some of his shirts as pillow cases to tide you over while he was gone. Your bed usually smelled like him since he slept there most nights, but without him visiting the sheets began to lose their comforting smell. Thankfully, he already had a drawer for his stuff so you didn’t even have to ask him to give you anything. You even took one of his shirts the last time you visited his place so you could have something new.

Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead before resting his head on top of yours, almost whispering against your hair, “Oh honey, my sweet girl…,” he presses his nose to your hair to breathe you in and continues with a smile, “I missed you so much.”

His hands move from your waist to cup your cheeks after pulling away from you. There’s a moment where you two don’t say anything, just taking each other in for the first time in a month. Then, he pulls you closer to press a soft kiss to your lips. It’s not the passionate kiss you were craving all month, but you were happy to finally feel his soft lips against yours. You’re leaning into the kiss as the world disappears around you, at least until you hear someone clear their throat and you remember Eddie did not arrive here alone.

“Um, sorry, do we get a hello too?” You pull away from your boyfriend and look over to Jeff who was speaking and laugh at his request. Eddie’s gaze follows yours and he cocks a brow at his bandmate, looking absolutely pissed that his bassist dared to interrupt your moment with him, but also that Jeff wanted to take you away from him. Yes, you were good friends with the rest of the band, and yes he was sure you also missed them, but you were Eddie’s girlfriend. He wanted to hold onto you for as long as humanly possible. If he could, he’d sit in the driver’s seat and use his arms as your seatbelt when you drove home. Despite his protests, you fully let go of Eddie (to which he lets out a sad whine and follows you to the others) and give each member a greeting and a hug, asking how the flight was and making general small talk. Without any warning besides the quiet thud of his footsteps on the tile floor, Eddie moves to stand behind you and wrap his arms loosely around your waist and rest his head on your shoulder. One of your hands reaches up to scratch the back ofhis scalp and he lets out a content hum, happy to just stand here all night as long as you never stop touching him.

“So…” you begin, turning your attention to the group as a whole, “how was the trip? Did you guys get to sleep for a little bit?” You feel Eddie shift a little bit behind you, unaware of the look he’s giving his friends who just chuckle. 

Grant looks Eddie directly in the eyes and replies, “Oh, definitely. Eddie was especially quiet so it was pretty easy.” You cock an eyebrow at Grant, a little suspicious of the claim since the Eddie you know, the Eddie who sleeps in your bed most days, is a known sleep talker and never shuts the hell up when he’s awake. There was never a quiet moment with him. This was especially the case now, given how Eddie hasn’t spoken since he held you. Usually he’d be going on and on about every thought that went through his head during the plane flight or things that happened between your last phone call and now. 

“I’m sorry, but I wasn’t aware that Eddie had a mute button. Where is it? Does he have a new secret freckle that I don’t know about? ” You point a finger in your boyfriend’s face while questioning the others. Eddie, taking the opportunity to get another laugh out of you, leans in and tries to playfully nip at your finger but you just move your hand away when he does so. He’s still silent and you’re becoming more suspicious of him by the second.

Jeff walks over, having gone to the nearest trash can to dispose of his empty bottle. He adjusts the backpack on his shoulder before replying, “Well, someone lost their voice last night at the end of the show.” The other two boys laugh and Gareth pulls his phone out to seemingly provide evidence for Eddie’s actions as Jeff continues on, “He was invited on stage for the last song of the night with the headliner It was fucking sick. The gutturals? Disgusting. ” 

Gareth hands his phone over to you with a video from Tiktok pulled up. You kept TikTok open throughout the night to watch everything unfold live, but somehow missed this part of the night. Maybe this was when you were trying to sleep or went on a cleaning spree. 

Like Jeff said, it was the last song of the night and they called Eddie on stage. The metalhead is sweaty from his previous performance but looks like he could go on all night if he had the chance. He has a smile on his face that fills your heart with pride, his joy only growing when the audience begins to cheer even more than they were before once he came on stage.  Eddie is still in his stage outfit and makeup, some smoky red eyeshadow, wearing a half buttoned up button-down shirt, distressed jeans, and his favorite combat boots. The unbuttoned shirt revealed sections of his tattoos and his two necklaces - one with your first initial on it and the other was his new lucky guitar pick. His original has been hanging around your neck for around two years now. You were sure the comments were flooded with people fawning over his looks, they always are. 

The two walk up to center stage as the band plays the first notes. You can almost feel the energy of the room just by watching the video. Everyone in the audience begins cheering. Everyone knows the lyrics and they all scream along with the two men on stage. The first notes of the song begin to play and the two vocalists make it to center stage before they start singing. Eddie has one foot up on the stage risers as he belts out the lyrics.

All in with a losing hand

The sun sets on a wanted man

No spine, born without a backbone

Two-faced, too late for a tombstone

 His screams are most akin to a deep growl from the back of his throat. He tried his best over the years to improve his guttural screams without damaging his throat, but maybe last night he got so excited that he forgot to take all the precautionary steps he took to prevent any damage. 

Eddie nods at this and speaks up as much as he’s able to and says, “I got carried away and fucked up. I could feel the damage happening maybe halfway through the song but there was no way I was gonna stop.”

 Jeff nods, muttering under his breath, “And you’re the one always lecturing us about proper technique…” Eddie huffs and raises a ringed middle finger to his bassist who did the only reasonable thing and gave Eddie one back.

You take a little pity on Eddie because he’s clearly annoyed at himself for doing this and how he hurt himself. You turn to him to peck his lips while soothingly rubbing his shoulders. Your touch is already making him feel better. All he wants to do is go home and snuggle up to you in order to make up for lost time. From behind you, there’s some muffled comments being made by the boys, including a sarcastic ‘I can never get over how whipped he is for her…’ coming from Gareth. Eddie tears his eyes from you to Gareth and hoarsely remarks, “At least I have a girlfriend.” It’s barely audible to them, given the condition of his voice and the overall noise levels of the airport, but they’re able to decipher what he said by lip reading. The reactions are mixed. Grant fakes offense, Jeff scoffs, and Gareth flips him off. Then, the younger man gets an idea. 

“You know…”, Gareth says, readjusting the bag hanging off one shoulder with a sly smile on his face, something you notice right away when you turn to look at him, “I’ve actually been acting as his interpreter. I’m pretty good.”

Your boyfriend scoffs and croaks out to Gareth, “No the fuck you’re not.”

Instantly, Gareth replies, “What’s that? You’re indefinitely appointing me as the new frontman? Aww, thanks man! I really appreciate that you trust me with the band!” Eddie shakes his head and is about to walk past you and try to knock some sense into his drummer, mainly because he’s tired and just wants to go home, but you’re still holding onto his shoulder so he stays put. He’s pursing his lips and is clearly ticked off by Gareth, which seems to have been his goal. Most of the time, Eddie could put up with Gareth’s shenanigans, but you swore that every time they went on tour Eddie would come back needing a break from him. He needed a break from everyone, really. That’s what was so great about this job. You’re stuck in a tiny van with them with zero time by yourself and once you get home you can just avoid them until you can bear to look at their faces again. They didn’t schedule a Hellfire session next week for this exact reason. Eddie didn’t want to hear any of their voices or look at them for a while. Hell, he wanted to forget the guys even existed. His plan was to spend time with you, spend time in you, and spend time catching up on his sleep… with you

He’s sick of standing here, he’s sick of the clothes he’s wearing, he’s sick of being awake. Eddie grabs his suitcase from the small pile of luggage that made up their belongings and said to you, “I wanna go home.” He pulls the handle up and takes your hand to begin walking towards the exit. You couldn’t understand what he was saying seconds ago and found the perfect opportunity to poke fun at him.

“Oh yeah, I’d love to watch Titanic when we get home! We can do a fun romance movie marathon!.”

Eddie stops in his tracks and spins to look at you. Did you not hear him correctly? Is his voice that messed up? It’s only when you’ve got the same shit-eating grin on your face that Gareth is wearing that Eddie realizes you’re just messing with him. He gives you the same glare he previously gave the rest of the band and lets go of you before turning to leave the building. You let Eddie take a few steps by himself before shouting out, “You’re going in the wrong direction!”

Eddie groans and turns around again. You and the boys are laughing and all decide it’s finally time to get going. Your boyfriend strode in the other direction to the other exit, one hand on his luggage and the other grabbing your hand again as he passed. You’re laughing even more now and follow him to the elevator leading to the parking garage. Everyone else follows behind and you all make your way upstairs and to your car.

All the bags are packed into the back and the boys into the seats. Eddie immediately claimed the front passenger seat to avoid being sandwiched between the other three, but it gave him the opportunity to hold onto you more. Once everyone was buckled in and ready you began the hour long drive from Indianapolis to Hawkins. There was some chatter at the beginning, but as time went on the chatter morphed into a loud conversation about god knows what. You kept your focus on the road in order to get everyone home as fast as possible. Your patience was beginning to wear thin so you couldn’t imagine how Eddie was feeling. Their loud comments were almost enough to drown out the car radio and the other vehicles whizzing past you on the highway. 

The entire time, Eddie kept one hand on your thigh. Neither of you had the energy for sex right now, but you couldn’t deny that his touch wasn’t getting you a little hot and bothered. You were used to satiating each other's urges whenever you had the chance so you had a month's worth of desires and urges to let out with him. When the time came for him to leave for tour, he made you promise not to touch yourself because ‘you can’t play with something that belongs to him’. You could have easily gone against his wishes, it was all for fun, but it just made his homecoming all the more exciting. His hands were warm and the heat went right through your jeans. He would squeeze your leg sometimes when you stopped and sometimes rub the inside of your thigh with his thumb. 

You drop everyone off at their respective homes and heave a sigh of relief once it’s just you and Eddie in the car. You love those guys, you really do, but sometimes when they’re all together in the same room (or in this case, car) they all start acting like lunatics. Your only saving grace was the fact that they all wore seatbelts and Eddie, the usual instigator of their chaos, was quiet and drained of all his energy. 

As you begin the drive to your apartment, you lower the radio volume until it’s merely background noise.  Eddie takes his hand away from your thigh and crosses his arms as he makes himself more comfortable. He even pulls his hoodie up to keep warm

You lived two towns over so the drive would be twenty minutes until you both could finally go to sleep. Out of the corner of your eye you see Eddie moving to recline the passenger seat a little bit and shut his eyes. 

“Get some rest, baby. We’ll be home soon.”

There was never a discussion about where he’d be staying the night, you just assumed he would be sleeping here. It was a peaceful, quiet drive. A few minutes after he got comfortable you heard his even, heavy breathing and smiled at how quickly he fell asleep. He tired himself out after that last show. Eventually, you roll into your complex’s parking lot and slow to a stop in your designated area. Once the car is off, you take one of Eddie’s hands and give it a squeeze to wake him up. His eyes flutter open and you give him a warm smile. He blearily rubs his eyes and slowly ambles out of the car. You grab his luggage and he picks up his guitar case to sling over his shoulder.  Once he’s out and all his belongings are out of the car, you go over to him and hold your hand out which he happily takes. It’s a short walk from your car but takes a little longer than normal thanks to everything you two are lugging and how sluggish your boyfriend is moving. Thankfully, the temperature wasn’t dipping too low so neither of you were in a hurry. Eventually you get to the front door of your apartment. Neither of you speak on the walk over, but it’s a comfortable silence so neither of you try to fix that. 

The door finally opens after you fight the lock for what feels like an eternity. Eddie sighs when he steps inside. He sets his guitar case down on the sofa and you put his luggage down next to the front door. You kick off your slippers as he leans against the couch to bend over and pull his sneakers off. Once those are off, he begins stripping down in the living room without saying a word. Eddie pulls his hoodie over his head and is followed by the Metallica shirt he wore underneath. Then, he pulls off his sweatpants to reveal… nothing else.

“Ed, honey, did you really take an 11-hour flight without underwear?”

Eddie turns to you as he takes his hair down out of the ponytail he was wearing. He runs his fingers through his hair and scratches at his scalp to relieve the tension from having his hair up for that long. Your beautiful boyfriend stands in the middle of your living room, completely drained and fully nude in front of the open living room window. Eddie looks at you and tiredly answers, “I didn’t feel like wearing them” like it’s completely normal. He’s beyond the point of holding a regular conversation. The dim lighting doesn’t help to hide the bags under his eyes. This would be a conversation to be held in the morning.

You sigh and shake your head at him. He’s bending over to pick his clothes up and you get a full view of his ass, and you won’t complain. It’s a great view. So great that you go over and give it a little tap. You don’t have the energy to give it a full-on smack, something else to tackle tomorrow. Eddie turns and has a small smile on his face. He takes the shirt in his hand and throws it at your face. You hate to admit it smells amazing - it’s a little more sweaty than the shirts he usually gives you since he was stuck in a cramped plane for eleven hours, but that was what somehow made it smell better. He picks up his laundry (minus the shirt) and carries it into your room. Your eyes are scanning his body as he walks inside. The only light source in the room is your bedside lamp, so there’s even less light in there. He’s half hard despite the exhaustion over the past 24 hours and you make a mental note to yourself to wake him up with a blowjob, he always loves that. All his dirty clothing is tossed onto the designated laundry chair, now a mix of your dirty clothes and his, before he flops down onto the bed on his stomach. He’s sprawled out like a starfish and groans when he hits the bed, burying his face in your pillows. It gives you the opportunity to ogle him more, the skeleton wings on his back and the bite mark that you gave him that he permanently tattooed onto the side of his neck. It’s the closest thing you guys had to matching couple tattoos - he had a bite from you on his neck, and you had his on your inner thigh. He was perfect.

You take the time to remove your clothing and strip down like Eddie did earlier. He turns his head a bit to watch you. His eyes trace your curves as the clothing falls off and is placed on the growing mountain in the corner. Once you’re properly undressed, he turns his head back to your pillows so he could  take in your fragrance again. The mix of your shampoo, soap, and natural scent was better than any drug.

“God, I’m fucking exhausted…”

You tiptoe over to the side of the bed and sit down next to him, moving a lock of curly hair away from his face so you can look at him more. He has a sleepy smile on his face, and it’s obvious that he’s on the verge of falling asleep. You reply, “Mm, I bet. Did you have fun?” 

The metalhead nods his head and takes your hand in his to kiss the back of it. Eddie missed a lot of things. He missed the smell of your bedsheets, your warmth when he woke up to your body curled up next to his, the long nights spent in bed just laughing and talking until one of you fell asleep. With his lips pressed against your hand, he mutters, “Yes, but I’m happy to be home…”

He called your apartment home. There was already a mix of his belongings in here besides his clothing so it would make sense that it felt like home to him. The question keeps flying around in your head, but again, it’s a conversation for tomorrow. Your blankets were calling your name, especially with this angel of a man under them. You reach to your bedside table and turn the light off with a soft click, the streetlights outside barely illuminating the room now. Eddie holds the sheets open for you as you tiredly climb inside. The last of your energy leaves your body the moment your head hits the pillow. A pair of strong arms encircle you again and pull you close so your chests are pressed together. You nuzzle him and give him a little kiss before whispering, “Goodnight, Eddie. Get some sleep.”

You two are both out within ten minutes.

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@ainelantv

[spitdrunken]

man. still have NOT managed to get my hands on the book of bill because it's sold out literally everywhere over here, but have any of you seen the new 'how not to draw' vid on the disney youtube channel that features bill? it really got me thinking.

notes: fourth wall breaking, obsessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships, implied sexual content, implied mind control

it's heavily implied that the video takes place in a world where gravity falls is supposedly fictional, like our own. bill literally says he's going to break the fourth wall! because i'm a sucker for fourth wall breaks and characters being aware of their own fandom (to an extent), i simply just HAD to run with this scenario.

i just like the idea of 'you' being just a person, some totally, in the large scheme of things, insignificant human walking the earth. you have a tendency for escapism, perhaps. you have always been drawn to stories. you like gravity falls. maybe it was something you watched while you were younger and recently rewatched, or an interest that had never waned. regardless, bill cipher, charismatic and unapologetically evil villain that he is, is one of your favourites.

you doodle him on the edges of paper when you're supposed to be doing anything else. (regardless of anyone's artistic skills, it's not difficult to draw a triangle with a top hat and an eye, is it?) and in this world, you are hardly the only one who likes him, who, perhaps, ships himself with him, who thinks about him a lot. who makes drawings and writes or reads fic. you don't think it's all that unusual.

in a stroke of luck or, depending on how you look at it, the exact opposite, the universe's idea of a cosmic joke, you are the one to catch bill's eye. (it's, after all, much easier to infiltrate the dreams of someone who already has you on their mind. makes sense, doesn't it? a tentative, wavering link had been formed already.) there, in your dreams, he tells you what to say--triangulum, entangulum. meteforis dominus ventium. meteforis venetisarium--and the next morning, you remember it clear as a memory.

you do it. for funsies. why wouldn't you? you don't expect it to actually work. he's a fictional interdimensional demon. why would it work? but much to your surprise, and horror, because surely a screw must've gotten loose for this to be happening, one of your little doodles has life blown to it. as a response to your summon, a tiny little bill cipher darts across your paper, alive but still confined.

(you've given him an in. now, he only has to take the crack you've opened for him, dig his fingers in, and tear it open.)

oh, he'll be funny! he'll be exactly what you thought of him. perhaps he even voices a line of dialogue you swore you wrote down somewhere days prior. yes, he's read whatever you wrote or read, whatever you looked at. he's keeping it himself for now. it's not easy to inflate his ego further, but you might have succeeded. rather than a meatbag, bill first looks upon you with the eye of someone presented with a puppy. fundamentally lesser, but capable of being something with the right training.

he urges you to make a deal with him and the promise he'll act out whatever fantasy you've been cooking up in that brain of yours, even if it's gross and weird and physically impossible!

he'll warp your dimension to make all of it possible!!! it's great!!! don't worry about it!!!!!!

…you don't do it. you don't touch the paper. you've seen the show, and you aren't stupid. bill nearly balks. he'd expected you to be the easiest mark of all time, but he suppose he forgot that even puppies have teeth. that's fine. he can work with this. because even though you have not let him in yet, and you refuse to shake his hand through the paper, you don't seperate yourself from him just yet.

you could oh so easily take the piece of paper he's on and throw it in the nearest shredder. or set him on fire. in you, he recognises lingering curiosity, and the excitement at having stood out, at being chosen, in one way or another. it's not hopeless yet.

he can play a bit of a longer game, then. he's been at this for a long, long time. he'll tolerate the paper he's on being folded into a little square and tucked into your breast pocket, granting him a view of your life and the world you're living in. (all the time, his hunger grows.) your decision not to throw him away ends up being your downfall. spending so much time with bill, letting him joke around with you, complaining about your problems… it takes a while for you to realise that, for a while now, he has not been speaking out loud anymore, but instead through your mind.

a connection that cannot be cut has been formed in between two of you.

on bill's part, he had thorougly expected to be bored. but perhaps it's your genuine interest in him, not the things he's offering, which he does not often see. (he's been down this road before. won't end well. but...) the sheer mundanity of your life that makes him wish he could twist and turn it all around. or just a random alignment of the stars. the heart doesn't always follow logic. in this scenario, at some point, bill realises that he has become genuinely invested in you, too. and at that point, you'll never manage to slip away. he's already dug in his heels in your mind far enough. you had no adequate protection.

he still wants to take over your world. he still wants to escape the discomforting flatness of the paper you've summoned him in. but, perhaps, you two could share that meatsack of a body of yours, before things get that far.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Dear Raven, do you have any opinion on the Tangled event in terms of it’s “story”? Cause I personally feel that it was rather underwhelming…

I have a lot of thoughts about Wish Lantern, so I'd be more than happy to expand on those here. First of all, I think a lot of us were underwhelmed by this event because we went in with a certain set of expectations. We thought this would be THE Riddle event and hyped ourselves up about how this would further his character development. And technically, the event did do that--even if said development was only relevant for parts 2-7 to 2-13, and the final part, 2-18. I think we just weren't fans of the execution. Rarely are story events contained mostly in a single room--but Wish Lantern was. Rarely are modern Twst story events a mere two episodes long--but Wish Lantern was. Rarely do story events call for characters to just stand around and reenact the exact same things the Disney characters did--but in Wish Lantern, they do. It was just a storm of blandness when I think we were wanting and expecting to explore a new place, and more in-depth exploration of Riddle's complicated relationship with his mother, especially considering we got Wish Lantern right off the tail end of his book 7 dream in the JP server. But we didn't get that, so many people ended up disappointed.

Now, how do I feel about it? Well...

I think I get what they were going for by cramming everyone into the library. The devs were probably trying to show us how claustrophobic and suffocating it is to be trapped inside and stripped of your freedom. They wanted us to feel the same way that Rapunzel did up in her tower, and they did it all without telling us to our faces "doesn't it suck, don't you feel awful about this?" But the problem with this setting is that it also makes for a dull story, especially when you combine it with the fact that Riddle and the others come to the stunningly stupid conclusion that they HAVE to live out the same life the Princess in the Tower did to get out.

We never got an explanation as to why this chain of events was even set off by the lantern to begin with. As a writer myself, this really bothers me :/

We got NRC library lore, but it was not that interesting because this could have been easily guessed, given the age and elite status of the school.

One bit of new lore I thought was very interesting was Jack saying that only a handful of mages are authorized to move humans using magic + there are restrictions on this kind of magic. This fleshes out the magic system of Twst and the laws around its use.

I found it silly that Riddle was the one to suggest that they pretend to be princesses and that this is what would help solve their problem. That's so nonsensical and such a huge leap of logic, I expected it of KALIM, not Riddle. (Maybe you could argue that Riddle has a desire to let his inner child out, but I do not see current day Riddle so overtly expressing that; he has shown time and time again he is uncomfortable going outside the bounds his mother laid for him, and that includes acting in traditionally immature ways.) And not only that, but why did they all insist and automatically invest so much in being princesses, and continue to dig into details about the Princess in the Tower's life, truly believing that reenacting it would get them out of this bind??? I know it's for plot convenience, but it was so contrived. They literally had no proof this would work yet kept acting in ways that implied they genuinely believed it would work. Why wouldn't they just believe "okay, this isn't working" after changing into their new clothes, makeup, and hairdos and try something else? No, instead they just fully dedicated themselves to this reenactment strategy after questioning their assumption maybe once or twice.

The Princess in the Tower is even a FAIRY TALE in the world of Twisted Wonderland. It's not actually a part of their history. The characters point out (at multiple points in the event) how silly the fairy tale is or how little sense it makes. So... that gives them even less reason to believe in reenacting it as their solution.

Shoutout to the part where Jack talks about how tight his shirt is in the chest area (boobs too big, lol) and how he had to alter it to be more comfortable for him...

There were strange parts where the event was like a... poorly written locked room mystery? In a good mystery, the reader is handed all the clues to come to their own conclusions. In a bad mystery, important details are not given to the reader, so there is no feasible way for them to come to their own conclusions until the story tells them that missing crucial information. This happens a few times, with Ace handing Riddle "something he'll need" (which turns out to be a frying pan), Riddle "taking a long time" to jump out of the window (because he was contacting Silver to tell him to bring Vorpal), and Vargas giving them climbing rope (to aid in their escape). We only anticipate these things to occur if you're familiar with Tangled already. If you haven't seen it, you would have NO IDEA what is going to happen with these scenes.

I liked that every NRC character, including staff, got their five minutes in the spotlight. We don't often get events like this, so I appreciate them when they do happen.

Mom!Jamil was so very prominent this event 💀

Jade killed me when he showed up wearing THAT STUPID VARGAS CAMP MONSTER MASK THING.

... Remember what I said earlier about how it's confusing how Riddle, Jack, Deuce, and Kalim are throwing literally their ALL into these hobbies??? Well. Leona comes in and tells them it's inefficient to do that. Why are they trying to play an entire game of chess when moving a single piece is enough to constitute fulfilling the (supposed) requirements? If they were so worried about the time crunch, they should have been more economical with their time and spent the minimum amount on every activity, not spend hours trying to do each one. AGAIN, I HAVE TO GIVE IT TO KINGSCHOLAR... HE IS CORRECT. Of all the characters, I can only really see Riddle being anal about doing everything perfectly, but the other three could easily coast by on the bare minimum.

This is a bit of my book 7 salt spilling over into this event, but I kept having this nagging thought that Riddle and co. (+ Crowley) seem VERY concerned with escaping the library before it rolls over to the next day. Like... I understand why they're worried--but they oddly do not demonstrate this same level of urgency for most of the dream hopping in book 7 even though the stakes are much higher there. It doesn't make sense to me...

The devs got creative with the framing of this event; there was the diagonal slice and then showing two characters in two different locations speaking, as well as the Jamils low fade in + vanish.

The new music tracks were nice; one emulated the Kingdom Dance, and the other was a combination of the instrumentation of When Will My Life Begin and At Last I See The Light, which I appreciated.

The rhythmics/twistunes were cute. Nothing else to add.

I did like the character development we actually got for Riddle—I just wish it came attached to a better event and was executed better. His development is sort of poorly spaced out (especially when compared to Deuce in White Rabbit Fest), the event itself is short, and Riddle doesn’t even bring up his mom until 2-13… when the last part is 2-18.

I still felt that the parallels between Rapunzel and Riddle were sufficiently conveyed; it just requires reading between the lines.

I loved that they made a point to mention that the Princess didn’t know she was kidnapped by a witch because the witch provided all that she could ever want in her tower. Delicious food and lots of things to do… why would she ever go against someone that provided these amenities for her? It is similar to the mindset many abused children have—simply because an abusive guardian provides for them, children are compelled to give them grace and feel guilty about disobeying. These kids don’t realize they are “kidnapped” (under the abusive guardian’s thumb). The same goes for Riddle.

When I think about it… the window is an important symbol for Riddle. The manga more explicitly shows us that Trey and Chenya knocked on Riddle’s window to get his attention. It’s also through the window that Riddle escapes to go play with them. Now, again, a window is his escape, and, learning from past experience, he hesitates to take that route even though it is so easily accessible. I've decided... Never again. Almost made me gasp out loud, honestly. This was the part I expected from the start, and Twst actually delivered.

Another point I feel is very important is how Riddle consistently brings up the rules as a means of depriving himself of basic things like food (because you cannot eat in the library). The others have the be the ones to convince him to take better care of himself. He even has trouble jumping from the window too—and this is the same as Rapunzel. It’s not that they cannot leave the tower. They can leave anytime they like—but they trap themselves in it, psychologically speaking, due to how they’ve been isolated and controlled. That takes real strength and willpower to overcome.

It’s great that Jack, Deuce, and Kalim support Riddle through this tough decision-making, even if they’re blunt about it. (Sometimes bluntness is what he needs to really snap into action!!) “I don’t want to see you turning into a loser that uses the rules as an excuse to not act.”, “Are you planning on staying there forever?” etc.

The ending nicely wraps up Riddle’s little arc. He connects the dots that both he and Rapunzel broke the promises made to their mothers—but it was worth it to see this amazing sight, wasn’t it?

I happen to have my own Wish Lantern rewrite if you're interested in an alternate version of the event. As it currently is, it's okay to pretty good in the Riddle development scenes alone and has some cute interactions, but everything else surrounding that is pretty bleh.

[deansbeer]

friendship in the sun ・ BABY!DEAN WINCHESTER. ៸៸៸ 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ! ♡ library

୨୧ synopsis. you meet baby dean at the playground and share your snacks, and unknowingly become his first real friend.

୨୧ warning(s). fluff | slight angst | mentions of neglect (fuck john winchester) | implied emotional burden | light apprehension (baby!dean was nervous he'd be left out) — i might have missed some warnings, so do let me know !

୨୧ word count. 1.1k

୨୧ kari notes. currently sobbing over this and what bree is sending me about what is to come soon for starlight … my chest physically aches (is that even possible + i hit my vape too hard earlier) and feels so SO heavy rn. do not hate me i promise it does have some cuteness to it <3

the sun is warm against your skin, the air thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and melting popsicles. kids are running across the playground, screaming and laughing, their sneakers kicking up dust from the wood chips beneath the swings.

you're in the middle of a game of tag, your legs pumping as you run, breathless and giggling, dodging outstretched hands. the world is simple, bright, and full of endless fun—until you hear a small voice behind you.

"can i play too?"

you turn around and see a boy, about your age, standing a few feet away. he's got short blonde hair, green eyes that are wide and hopeful, and a pair of scuffed-up sneakers that have clearly seen better days. he looks a little nervous, like he’s expecting you to say no.

but you love making new friends.

"yeah!" you beam, nodding excitedly. "you can be it first!"

the boy grins, the nervousness melting off his face, and before he can say anything else, one of the other kids taps his arm and yells, "tag, you're it!" before sprinting away.

he lets out a genuine laugh and takes off running after them, and just like that, he's part of the game, part of your world.

you find out his name is dean.

as you both climb onto the swings, kicking your legs to go higher and higher, he tells you about his baby brother, sam.

"he's two," he says proudly, gripping the chains of the swing as he leans back, letting the wind rush past his face. "he's real small, but he's super smart. like, i think he’s gonna be a genius or somethin'."

you smile at that, loving the way his face lights up when he talks about his little brother.

"i have a baby sister," you tell him, slowing your swing down until your sneakers drag against the dirt. "she's really tiny, though. like, just a few weeks old. my mom says she can be a handful sometimes."

"bet she cries a lot," dean says, wrinkling his nose.

"yeah, but she's cute," you shrug. "sometimes i help my mom with her. i hold her bottle and stuff."

dean looks thoughtful, like he's tucking that information away for later. like maybe he'll try that with sam next time.

after a while, you start to feel tired, so you reach over and grab dean's hand, tugging him toward the bench where your mom is sitting. she's got your baby sister on her shoulder, gently patting her back, and she smiles when she sees you.

"you hungry, sweetheart?" she asks, already reaching for your pink lunchbox—the one with flowers and disney princess stickers all over it.

you nod, plopping down on the bench, and pat the spot next to you. dean hesitates for a second before sitting down, his little hands resting awkwardly in his lap as he watches you open your lunchbox.

"look what i got!" you say excitedly, pulling out each item one by one. "fruit snacks, a pudding cup, cookies, and—" you pause for dramatic effect, "a peanut butter and jelly sandwich!"

dean watches you with a small pout, his lips pressing together as his stomach rumbles. he looks away quickly, like maybe if he ignores it, you won't notice.

but you do notice.

"what was that?" you ask, tilting your head.

"nothin’," he says quickly. "you're probably hearin' things."

you frown, glancing at your sandwich before looking back at him. he's trying to act like it's no big deal, but at six years old, you already have enough intuition to know.

he probably doesn't eat much at home.

you don't say anything about it, though. you just take your sandwich—cut into two perfect triangles—and hold one half out to him with a small smile, a gap where your front tooth used to be showing.

"here, you can have this one."

dean's eyes widen slightly, and he glances around—like he's making sure no one, especially his dad, is watching—before reaching out and taking it.

"thanks," he mumbles, looking a little shy, but also really, really grateful.

you just nod, opening up your pudding cup while he takes a bite of the sandwich.

after a moment, you pull out your cookies and push them toward him, too.

"you can have some if you want."

dean looks at you like you just handed him the best gift in the world, and after another quick glance around, he takes one.

you both sit there, swinging your legs, eating peanut butter and jelly and cookies, and passing your red gatorade-filled pink sippy cup back and forth. most kids might think it's weird to share a drink, or to drink out of something so pink, but dean doesn't care.

he just likes being here with you.

likes that, for once, he doesn't feel left out.

the sun starts to dip lower, casting golden light over the playground, and your mom calls for you to start wrapping it up.

"five more minutes!" you call back, grabbing dean's hand and pulling him toward the jungle gym.

you both squeeze in as much playtime as you can, climbing, laughing, chasing each other around—until a deep voice cuts through the air.

"dean!"

dean stops in his tracks, his little shoulders going stiff. you turn to see a man standing near the parking lot, holding a small toddler in his arms. sam, you guess.

"c'mon, kid, we gotta go," his dad says, adjusting sam on his hip.

dean looks at you, a little disappointed, but you just smile and take his hand again.

"let's go."

you walk with him toward his dad, your fingers still laced together, and when you reach them, you let go just long enough to lean in and press a tiny kiss to dean's cheek.

"bye, dean!" you chirp, giving him a big, toothy grin before running back to your mom.

dean just stands there for a second, blinking, his face suddenly very warm.

he doesn't even realize he's touching his cheek until his dad makes a noise—something halfway between amusement and impatience.

"c'mon, romeo," john mutters, shifting sam in his arms as he turns toward the impala.

dean frowns, his stomach sinking as he trudges behind him.

"gonna need you to watch sam tonight," john says, not looking back. "got a routine hunt to do."

dean doesn't say anything.

he just glances back—just once—to see you climbing into the backseat of your mom’s car, your baby sister still nestled against her shoulder.

you catch his eye and wave.

he waves back.

and then he climbs into the impala, sam curled up against his side, already half-asleep.

the warmth of your hand still lingers in his.

the taste of peanut butter and jelly still sticks to his tongue.

and for the first time in a long time, he thinks maybe—just maybe—he might have a real friend.

៸៸៸ special tags. @titsout4jackles @daylighted @bluemerakis @beausling @aileenunfiltered @honeyryewhiskey @figthoughts @dollyfiles @starzify @ultravi0lence14 @soldiersgirl @sunsbaby @abox-of-rocks @whisperingdaze @eepwtf @chris444evr @deanswidow @voidsuites @jasvtsc @cowboysandcigarettes @stereotypicalbarbie

[anyarose011]

Dimensions {Angus Tully x Reader}

Summary: What else is there to do after an emotional night than spill your darkest insecurities to someone you hated a week ago? Advice: Go bowling and to a movie afterwards so he'll tell you his.

Part 9 of 10 (Masterlist)

Warning(s): Long ass monologues you could use to audition for a school play, a good father figure, swearing, past miscarriages, past abandonment, descriptions of cancer, and descriptions of grief.

I’m just now realizing that all of my series has a dead mom. Guys, I’m not like Walt Disney I swear; my mom is alive and we have a great relationship 85% of the time. But anyway, hey pookiesss, here's my late Christmas/New Years gift! I really loved this chapter, and made it a little longer just to make up for the long time it took to get it out. Honestly...this may be the second to last chapter. We'll just have to see if I would want to write a long last chapter or not. Also, I would like to apologize for changing the title to the series (specifically to @riverdrowning for recommending it), but it's not my fault Jack Antonoff probably walked out of the movie and said "This would be a great song".

Word Count: 7.4k

The spaghetti wasn’t cooked all the way, the sauce covered half of the pasta, and the only good thing about the room service your stepfather ordered were the meatballs.

Maybe you should’ve just sucked it up and stayed at the diner.

You hadn’t seen Angus or your stepfather-fuck it, he was still your dad, the rest of the evening. You had shut yourself in your small hotel room, trying to console yourself with a warm bath and reading The Little Prince.

It helped a little bit, and you had barely had a break from crying that you thought you would sleep well that night.

Yet, as you laid on the bed and saw the digital clock read ‘1:00 AM’, that was when you sat up. Wrapping the spare blanket around yourself, you peeked behind the curtains of the window and just stared out it. There were a few people down on the streets of snowy Boston. Some were across the street sitting on a bench drinking and laughing, and some walking briskly with their hands in their pockets to escape the cold.

Your gaze then lingered on the door to your left by the desk; the door leading to Angus and your father’s room.

Taking a deep breath, you approached the door and carefully turned the handle. Luckily, the door didn’t creak as you opened it, and then stepped into the room. Just like yours, the only light was in the room was the streetlamps outside peering in through the window.

Your father slept with a pillow over his head, probably in an attempt to smother his snores for Angus sake. Your gaze then turned to the boy in question. He slept soundly on his side facing away from the window.

Tiptoeing, once you made it to his side, you gently shook him.

Angus hummed lightly before turning over and seeing you. He flinched for a moment, and you shushed him before whispering.

“Can I talk to you?”

He nodded. “Yeah, what’s up?”

You didn’t say anything; only took his hand in yours and helped him stand from his bed. The two of you quietly scurried back to your room, and shut the door. You sat on your bed, leaning against the headboard. You assumed Angus would’ve sat at the foot of it, but no, he sat beside you.

Silence filled the air between you, until, for the first time, it was Angus who broke the silence.

“You uh…you said you wanted to talk. Do you still wanna do that?”

“No,” you immediately answered. “but I know I have to.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I mean I need to.” You sighed. “I’m sorry; I didn’t expect that I needed to tell you about…Daniel, but I should have.”

Angus shook his head. “It was none of my business. It’s a lot of bagage-.”

“-Can I just say everything first, please?” When you saw him nod, you continued with hesitance. “My mom did meet my father at Harvard, but she also met Paul. She…she was closer with him the whole time. They went on like one date their sophomore year, but she said it didn’t work out; apparently, he was too full of himself for her back then.” You both laughed.

Swallowing, you continued. “They were still friends, but my mom started dating Daniel her junior year. He had to repeat a year, and even then, barely passed that. It’s not that he was an idiot, he just didn’t want to do the work. Still, they got along, and after they graduated, they got married and moved to Boston. They wanted kids right away but…my mom had two miscarriages before having me a lot later. I-I wondered if he hated her because of that. Still, I remember growing up and Daniel was nice but…It’s stupid, there’d school stuff and he wouldn’t come. He’d say it was work, and I know that was probably the case, but I remember one night where I heard my mom yelling at him because he went to the bar with friends instead of a dance recital or something, I can’t remember.”

Your voice lowered as the memory resurfaced. “Mom got cancer when I was nine, and I think it was a few weeks after I heard something downstairs late at night. I got up and saw Daniel trying to go out the front door, suitcase in hand. I asked where he was going, all he said was that he loved me, and left. I woke Mom up…and she just cried. She cried so much I stopped crying with her and called Paul; Mr. Hunham.”

You wiped your face; tears were beginning to form but not fall. “Her parents lived in Pennsylvania, so there was no one else I could call. They were still friends even after he left Harvard. She invited him to family stuff and was basically my uncle. It was like one in the morning, I don’t know. Barton’s an hour away, but he got there in twenty minutes. I don’t know how he wasn’t pulled over. He took a week off from Barton and just stayed with us. After that, he’d make the one hour commute everyday for a few months. Every few weeks in the mail there’d be the same letter with a toy train stamp. I didn’t know this, but my mom and dad were only talking through letters, and they were getting a divorce. I didn’t even know it happened until she sat me down and told me that they did. It-it was late at night, and I just kept crying. It was over that, yeah, but-but I remember saying that I was scared Mr. Hunham was going to leave.”

Angus slipped his hand into yours, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t expect you to let out a pitiful laugh before continuing. “I was almost ten when he asked how we’d feel about moving into a house in Barton with him. I said no because I genuinely thought the only way we could live together was if my mom and him got married. So I told him that, and later, he pulled me aside saying that he promised he’d at least ask her, but wanted to give her time. I…I don’t know why I trusted him, but I did. We moved to Barton, had a small house that we only lived in for two years…and I think it was my favorite place. I drive by that house sometimes…and I really miss it.”

He squeezed your hand as if to let you know that he was still listening.

“Mary became a family friend, Curtis became my best friend…you know the rest. Mom would get better, then worse, then better again, and it just repeated. And my dad…Paul, he was good; he was really good, especially for her. It wasn’t even a year later when he asked me if he could marry her. Of course, I said yes. There wasn’t a huge wedding; it was just the three of us, Mary and Curtis, and my mom’s parents.” You chuckled, wiping your eyes. “Curtis was the ring bearer, and I was the flower girl. The men were all getting lunch together while we were getting my mom ready at church, and my grandpa wanted to see my mom’s ring so he took it from Curtis, but he dropped it down the gutter!”

“No!” Agnus laughed.

“He did! So we got two old guys freaking out, they told poor Curtis to go to the chapel and tell Mary, but he instead tells me, and my immediate response was to go to the drugstore and beg for change to buy a plastic dinosaur ring.”

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not!” You had to stifle your giggles. “We told Mom about the ring, but then gave her the plastic one and thought it’d be fine. She marched to the diner of course, rollers still in her hair and all. She showed them the ring, raising her voice; but, in the end, all we could do was laugh. We got someone to go down and get the actual ring, and the wedding went on…I remember she…I remember she told me that she loved every second of it more than she ever did her first wedding…She wore that plastic ring to the grave.”

There was no sound at all in your room, all but your breathing steadying out from your crying. It felt as if the world knew you needed silence.

Angus spoke up. “I would’ve like to meet her.”

“She would’ve liked you.”

“You don’t have to say that-.”

“-No,” You cut him off. “she would’ve; I wouldn’t bullshit that.”

He looked away as if it was too much. Still, he held onto you as he slunk down to lie on the bed. You followed his lead.

“She probably would’ve helped your dad not have a stick up his ass this Christmas.” He said.

You bit your tongue to not burst out in laughter but grinned from ear to ear up at the ceiling. “He still would’ve had one, but not so much.”

Angus nodded then drew his eyes up to the ceiling away from you. “You don’t-you don’t have to talk about it, but…could I ask about Daniel?”

You sighed. “He showed up to Mom’s funeral with his new pregnant wife, and we only really said hello and that was it. I can’t really remember, but I think his wife tried to talk more, but I didn’t want to. He still lived in Boston, and I never heard from him again until this past August. He sent a letter about wanting to reconnect, and I…I was stupid.” You confessed. “I didn’t want to say anything to him, but I don’t know why, I wrote him a letter and we’d just go from there. It was nothing serious, just talking about our lives. Then he started sending money; I guess he was trying to buy my forgiveness. He wanted to meet up, that was the letter you gave my dad; and no, he didn’t want us to meet at the diner.”

“I never thought that.”

“Just wanted to make sure.”

Angus reached over, placing his hand on your cheek to have you look at him. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with his shit all this time.”

“I know.” You responded exhaustedly. “I just…fuck.”

“Yeah…fuck.” The two of you fell into silence; awkward yet somehow also soothing. He soon broke it, asking. “How’re you doing now?”

“My eyes hurt from crying, but thanks for listening.”

He nodded. “Yeah, I care about you.”

It felt strange to hear that. You knew enough from your father and Mary that they would go to the ends of the earth for you; they never had to say it aloud. Still, while the foreign feeling settled in your chest like a weight, it soon eased within you as you tossed your arms around him.

“You’re the best thing that could’ve happened to me this Christmas.” You whispered.

You felt him stiffen at your words, and for a moment, you thought you said too much. Then, he sighed into your hold, encircling your waist with his arms and pulling you closer.

“I’m glad I got stuck with you and not Kountze.”

“You piece of shit.” You snickered, pressing your face into the crook of his neck.

“I’ll wake you up when I gotta go back.”

“Don’t.” You shook your head, still holding onto him. “I’m gonna sleep really well from bawling my eyes out.”

He kissed your cheek. “I hope so.”

“Night, Angus.”

He wished you a goodnight, whispering your name so tenderly.

You were right; you did sleep well. So well, it wasn’t the light outside that woke you up, but a knock on the connecting door. Looking over at your side, you saw that Angus was not there; which relieved you more than disheartened you.

Tossing yourself out of bed, you opened the door, revealing your father.

“Morning, sweetheart.” He greeted. “How are you feeling?”

“My eyes still hurt a little,” you answered honestly. “but better.”

He hummed. “I ordered breakfast, would you want to get dressed and join us?”

“Sure.” You closed the door and went to change into your favorite outfit. You brought it into the bathroom, and when you stripped your nightgown off, you saw the faintest red patch in your underwear.

“Fuck.” You mumbled. Out of all the days your period could have started…at least you had packed a few things for it.

After you were ready, and after tying in one of the ribbons Angus had gotten you, you knocked on the door to let them know you were coming in, and entered the room. Angus sat on his bed, eating a plate of toast and sausages.

“How are you?” He asked immediately upon your presence.

You shrugged, loading up a plate and sitting on the bed with him. “Okay.”

The three of you sat there, eating. Again, there was a hint of discomfort in it; as if none of you slept as well as you could have, and you were too tired to make conversation. Still, in the silence, you found yourself waking up.

When breakfast was finished, you all decided to go bowling at an alley you and your mother frequented when you used to live in Boston. The weather, although still bitter cold, wasn’t as bad as it had been for the past few days, leading to you taking the subway and walking instead of splurging on another taxi.

It’d been a while since you bowled, but you were better than you remembered; albeit, not great, but your ball wasn’t going in the gutter every round. Unlike your father.

Leave it to Angus to teach his own teacher how to properly bowl. It was funny for you to sit back and watch. In many movies you watched as a teenager, it was always the boy to teach the pretty girl how to bowl; never the girl’s stepfather who is also the boy’s teacher.

“Not bad,” your father laughed once he hit a few pins. “you’re a pretty good teacher, kid. Too bad everybody dislikes you; pretty much hates you. But you must know that, right?”

You turned to Angus, smirking as if to say: ‘Now how does it feel?’. He nodded, trying not to smile. “Touché sir, touché. By the way, what eye do you aim with anyway? You know, I’ve been meaning to ask, when were talking, which one should I look at? Sometimes, I look at one,” he pointed. “but then I think I’m wrong, so I look at the other.”

Your father nodded, obviously uncomfortable but not inexperienced with the question. “Yes, everybody does that. My wife did it for a whole month after I met her.”

“So, which is it?” He laughed.

Mr. Hunham shrugged, turning to you. “Don’t you tell him.”

You mimed zipping your lips and locking them before throwing away the key. He nodded, going to take his turn.

Angus snapped his gaze to you, saying your name and drawing out the last syllable.

“Yes, Angus?” You asked.

“Tell me.”

“No.”

Your father came over soon after, saying. “I’m going to go get a drink, behave yourselves, and you can play for my turns.”

“Can I have some vodka?” You asked.

He answered, walking away. “When you’re in Europe or you’re twenty-one.”

You sighed, looking at Angus. “We’re in agreement we’re gonna screw up his bowls on purpose, right?”

“Only if you tell me which eye to look at.”

“The right one.”

“His right or my right?”

“Yes.”

He snickered. “You’re impossible.”

Getting up, you made your way to grab your ball. “Yeah, but that’s why you like me, I think.”

You bowled your set, getting a spare to your surprise and turning in victory. Angus got up, getting his own ball, waiting for the pins to come back.

“It’s one of them,” he said. “but I can handle you.”

They were simple words, and you know he probably didn’t mean for them to mean anything to you, but they did. Still, you wanted to have fun; you spent all of the night and early morning weeping, you wanted to laugh in the day.

You stayed standing as he took his turn, and he immediately got a strike. When he looked at you with the same shit-eating grin he always gave, you took one of the balls off the dispenser.

“So, what else do you like about me?” You asked, playing.

“Absolutely nothing.”

“You said that me being impossible was one of the things,” you crouched down and simply placed the bowling ball in the gutter. “so, there must be at least something else.”

Angus hummed. “You play fairly.”

Laughing as you stood, you and Angus watched as the ball was slowly beginning to approach the pins. When it quickly became boring, you both sat down back at the chairs, writing down all of your scores. As Angus was penciling in the boxes, you looked back to your father at the bar, chatting with two men. Hopefully he was making friends.

Then, when you heard light giggling, you compulsively turned to your left and saw two girls your age staring at your table. The second your eyes met theirs, they looked away in the blink of your eye.

They’d been doing that the whole damn time since you came to the alley. Your selfish yet hormonal teenage brain thought it was because of you eating utter shit at bowling, then when the fog cleared, you saw that their eyes would be on Angus.

Of course they probably assumed you were his sister or cousin or something. Because in what circumstances would a girl bring her dad and her boyfriend along? Wait shit…you weren’t technically his girlfriend; you talked about that the night before, but you had much direr things to attend to, so no shit you couldn’t talk about-.

“You okay?”

You pulled on a smile at Angus’ question, turning your head to him. “Yeah, just thought I saw something.”

His eyes went to the girls behind you for just a second before landing on yours. He took your face into his hands and pressed a kiss on your forehead.

You chuckled, pulling away. “What was that for?

“Just wanted to see if you had a temperature.”

“Why?” You began to retie your bowling shoes. “Because I’m hot?”

“Well…” He drew off, and you looked up at him with a questioning look until he sputtered out. “Jealousy’s a sickness, that’s why-.”

“-Angus!” You laughed louder than you thought possible, shaking your head.

“You’re hot too!” He tried to defend, finding your laughing contagious. “I don’t know why I said that.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Yeah, I do.” He sat farther back in his chair, and you leaned against him, resting your head on his shoulder. He glanced back, then at you. “Your dad might see.”

“Do you care?”

“I mean…maybe.” He admitted. “If he’ll drop kick me into next Tuesday, then yeah.”

You sat up yet tossed your legs over his lap. “This better?”

He smiled, draping his arm over your chair. “Yeah.”

And you both sat like that for another minute until you realized that it was technically your father’s turn, and there was no way in hell you were going to let him come back and knock a few pins down.

Once he returned, and you finished the rest of your game, there was debate on going to a movie or just going to lunch. Considering this was a vacation, you opted for the more exciting of the two and decided to risk getting sick from eating a lot of popcorn; but hey, it was still food.

The only movie that seemed interesting was Little Big Man. The theater was packed as the three of you sat down, and even without knowing anything about it, the movie was pretty good. It certainly impressed your father.

“This is not only amusing,” he whispered to you sitting in between him and Angus. “but for a movie, it’s a fairly accurate depiction of life among the Cheyenne.”

Somebody shushed him before you could, only for him to whisper. “Fuck off.”

You bit your tongue to smother your laughter. Another minute passed, and you felt Angus’ mouth hover over your ear.

“Meet me out in the lobby in a few minutes.”

Before you could even turn to him, he got out of his seat and whispered to your dad. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

He nodded, not thinking anything of it. You, on the other hand, felt your body grow simultaneously cold and warm at the same time. What could he possibly have had in mind? You had an idea of course, but the thought of…doing that in public or just in general caused your stomach to tie in a million knots. Still, you had to tell him that yourself.

After what you thought was long enough, you also stood. “I gotta go to the bathroom.”

That was when your father sat up. He sighed your name. “Now, I know there’s been something going on between the two of you, but-.”

“-I’m on my cycle...” Was all you could think to say. “I’m bleeding.”

Didn’t know why you said the second half and neither did your father, but that was enough for him to stop. “Oh…do you need anything?”

“You to stop talking.”

He did, leaving you to rush out of the theater. You found Angus in the lobby, and he took your hand without saying anything. Oh, but you certainly did.

“I’m not doing anything.” You stated.

He glanced over at you, heading towards the exit. “Huh?”

That’s when you stopped you and him in your tracks yet still held his hand. “I’m on my period, and even if I wasn’t, I would still beat your ass if you-.”

“-Oh my god, no!” He cut you off. “I don’t…look,” he rested his hands on your shoulders. “I haven’t been honest. I’m a prick for not telling you sooner, and I wanted to say something last night, but it wasn’t about me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Just trust me.” He led you outside, and you were welcomed to a line of waiting taxis. Angus immediately began making a beeline to the farthest one.

You pulled yourself out of his grasp, saying all the way. “What the fuck? No! What are you doing?!”

“I’ll explain on the way.” He turned to you, huffing. “Just please-.”

“-No! You’re telling me right here and now.”

“Hey!”

Your heads snapped over to the theater, where you father was then sprinting across the street and over to both of you. Angus got into the taxi before you could even say anything, only for you then to yank the door open when your father finally came by.

“Get out.” He commanded.

“I just need to do something.” Angus resisted. “We were gonna come back-.”

“-Where the hell were we even going?!” You fired back.

He didn’t even acknowledge you. “I can go on my own. It won’t take long, it’s nothing bad.”

“So why’d you even ask me in the first place?”

“Stop it!” Your father had enough, then looked at Angus. “Just get out, you conniving little shit! Were you planning this the whole time? Just counting the minutes until I turned my back?”

“I wasn’t running away.” Angus softened, the pain in his voice only growing with each word. “There’s just something I need to do before we go back to school. Please. You could come with me, just come with me, okay?”

“Come with you where?”

“…To see my dad.”

Your heart began to crack like ice on a river in the early days of spring. If only he had told you earlier, you would have gone without a second guess.

“Your dad?” Your own father sighed. “That’s what this is about? What didn’t you just ask me? Because, of course, we can visit a cemetery.”

Slowly, Angus dropped his gaze from both of you. You thought his disbelief was from your father saying ‘yes’, but then tears began to fall, and it didn’t even look like he knew they were. You crouched to his height, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong?”

He shook his head, not looking at you. “He’s not dead.”

The crack in your heart spontaneously shattered it just with three little words. Still, you had to ask with one.

“What?”

“He’s at Pinehills…”

You dropped your hand from him. The sanatorium…you’d never been, only heard of it once or twice. Your father read your shock and spoke for you.

“Okay, we’ll go. Scoot over.”  Angus did so, and your father sat in the middle, looking up at you. “Come on.”

As if you weren’t in your own body, you shook your head. “I-I think I’ll walk back-.”

“-We’re not splitting up,” he said your name gently. “that’s final. Get in.”

You didn’t put up much of a fight, and sat down, shutting the door.

Leaning against the glass, you watched as Boston, once again, passed by you. The car was deathly silent. In situations like this, you would at least look around you, but no; you couldn’t even muster the strength to lift your head, and you felt yourself beginning to cramp.

Skyscrapers soon turned into trees farther out of the city you drove. The sanatorium was just a large stone building, more like a prison than a hospital. After your father paid the driver, the three of you entered.

As your dad spoke to the receptionist, Angus slipped his hand into yours.

You swiftly pulled it away, not even meeting his eyes.

An orderly came out and led the three of you up a set of stairs. You stopped in front of a door, and the orderly gave just a single look to you and your father. You kept your head low, but your father nodded at Angus, and the boy entered with the orderly.

You and your father sat in the waiting room on a bench together, saying nothing. The whiplash of the entire day began to weigh on your shoulders, and so did the entirety of the night prior. The tightening in your lower abdomen only added to everything, and it was your father’s hand on your back that made you break.

“Are you okay?” He questioned.

 “I have to go to the bathroom.”

You stood up and ignored his pleas as he followed after you. Just as you were outside of the woman’s restroom, a stabbing pain struck you like a flash of lighting. Doubling over yourself, you clutched where your uterus lay, tears springing free as you sunk to the floor.

“Hey, hey,” your dad rubbed your shoulders, kneeling in front of you. “what is it?”

“It hurts.” You sobbed.

“Period?” He asked. You could only nod. He turned to a nurse who approached the commotion. “Does the hospital have anything help with the pain? Tylenol?”

“I have some in my purse.” She raced down the hall.

Your father shushed you, holding you tightly. “I know, I know. She’ll be back soon.”

“It-it’s not just that.” You hiccupped.

He ran his hand up and down your back. “What else is it?”

“I-I-I-I.” you stammered.

“Breathe,” he said. “just breathe.”

You copied him when he inhaled deeply, then exhaled softly. When you felt air returning to your lungs, you finally found your words.

“I hate him.” You hiccupped. “I hate that he left mom, and-and that he didn’t want to talk to me until now, and-and-and that he brought his stupid wife and his stupid kids that won’t do anything with their life because they’re just as dumb as he is! I-I hate that Mary’s alone, and-and that Curtis is dead, and that he even had to go in the first place! I hate that he lied, and that he said we would be friends, but he didn’t-he didn’t even tell me this, but I told him everything.”

Your father rocked you back and forth ever so subtly as you cried. He rubbed circles into your shoulder. “You’ve had a lot going on, haven’t you?”

You nodded.

He pulled away only slightly, just so you could look at him. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ve protected you as much as I should have, and even then, some of these things, I couldn’t; no matter how much I’d give to. You are…god,” he said your name. “you are your mother’s daughter. I hate that so much of you and her strength have had to come from people who hurt you; and I wish I could tell you this is the last time you’ll have to feel like this, but I don’t want to lie to you. But, I just want you to know, and I mean this with my whole heart: I wouldn’t be able to overcome the things you are handling right now when I was your age. Girls are forced and socialized to grow up faster than boys; it’s not solely a biological factor, it’s also a societal one, and it’s not fair. I don’t know if it matters, but I’m so proud of who you have become; raging spirit and all.”

You still were crying, but not just in sorrow; now, overwhelming adoration was added. Wiping your nose on your sleeve, you sat against the wall.

“Why didn’t he tell us?” You asked.

“I don’t entirely know,” he sat beside you. “but I believe shame is the main part.”

“He lied.” You shook your head. “I wouldn’t have judged him if he told the truth.”

“Would you have told him about Daniel if he didn’t show up?”

You went silent, already knowing your answer. Sighing, you rested your head on his shoulder. “I’m going to mourn Mom and Curtis longer than I’ll have known them…and if I think about that too much, I can’t sleep.”

Your father leaned his head on top of yours. “Then I’ll be mourning with you, and so will Mary.”

“Until you won’t be.”

“Then you’ll mourn with your husband, your children, your friends, hell, mourn with ten cats and dogs if you don’t have any of those other things later on in life.”

That managed to crack a smile. “Shut up.”

“It’s not human nature for us to be alone.” He said. “Even to those so called ‘antisocials’ or ‘loners’. You will always have someone to share a life with; even if it is those copious amounts of animals you’ll have.”

The nurse came by finally, holding a few pills in her hand, and a glass of water in another. “Sorry I took so long.”

You shook your head, taking them from her. “Just in time, thanks.”

Swallowing the Tylenol, you gave her the glass and she walked away. Your father stood up and reached his hand out to you. You took it and stood up, wiping the tears off your face.

“Do I look like shit?” You asked.

He shook his head. “You look like your mother.”

The two of you walked back down the hallway, and when you turned the corner, you saw Angus come out of the room he had gone into previously. He turned over to his left and he locked eyes with you first.

His eyes were red, yet no tears had fallen.

You left your father’s side and walked down the hallway, enveloping your arms around Angus. He latched onto you as soon as he felt your touch, and only then, hiding his face in your shoulder, did you hear him cry for the first time.

The three of you left the same when you entered; although, worse for wear. Angus mirrored what you had done prior to coming; staring out the window and not looking at anything else the whole time.

You had gone to a fancier restaurant as a final ‘hurrah’ of your Boston field trip, and to finally see Mary again after two long days without her. The three of you were quiet at the table, only truly talking when the waitress came. Your father attempted to make conversation, but it was apparent, after the days you both had, neither you nor Angus were in the mood.

Yet, after it seemed like you would all be silent until Mary arrived…

“He used to be fine; better than fine.” Angus began, staring down at the table before looking up. “He was my dad. Then about four years ago, he started acting strange; like, erratic, forgetful, saying all this weird shit. My mom took him to a bunch of doctors, and they put him on medication. But that just made it worse. He got more confused. And then he got angry, and then he got...physical. And that was the last straw. They put him away. Then she divorced him. Without him even realizing it. That’s why she wants a whole new life. And it’s easy to just stash me away in a boarding school, like half of us there are just stashed away. And I get it; she never has to look at me, because maybe when she looks at me, she…she sees him.”

You held his hand under the table the whole time, not knowing what else to do.

Your father shook his head at the statement Angus made. “No, no, no, no. That can’t be true, she…you’re her son.”

“Maybe she’s right.” Angus shook his head too. “I can’t keep it together. I lie, I steal, I piss people off. I only have one friend, a real friend, and even then I was a piece of shit, I’ll probably get kicked out of Barton too; and when I do, it’ll be my own fault. Get sent to Fork Union and maybe to you-know-where; and nobody will care.”

Except you would. You would lose someone else a second, horrible time. The thought alone brought tears to your eyes, but you forced them away; this wasn’t about you.

“And the funny thing is…” Angus trailed off. “I wanted to see him so bad this whole time….But I also didn’t, you know? Because I’m afraid that’s what’s gonna happen to me one day.”

“Angus,” your dad soothed. “listen. You’re not your father.”

“How do you know?”

“Because no one is their own father.” He shook his head. “I’m not my dad, no matter how hard he tried to beat that idea into me. The girl you’re sitting next to is neither me nor her biological father, and I’m thankful for both every day.” His eyes began to drift. “I find the world a bitter and complicated place, and it seems to feel the same way about me. I think we all have this in common. Don’t get me wrong, you have your challenges. You’re erratic and belligerent and a gigantic pain in the balls, but you’re not me, and you’re not your father. You’re your own man.” He scoffed, rewording. “Man. No. You’re just a kid. You’re just beginning. And you’re smart. You’ve got time to turn things around.”

You and Angus stared at him as if he was a priest giving the best sermon of his life. He went on.

“Sure, the Greeks had the idea that the steps you take to avoid your fate are the very steps that lead to it, but that’s just a literary conceit. In real life, your history does not have to dictate your destiny.” He looked over at you specifically. “And I hope you know this too, Josephine March; this isn’t just a boy’s club philosophy.”

You grinned from ear to ear. “Noted.”

He returned your smile, and then his eyes fell behind you. “Oh, there’s Mary.”

You and Angus looked over and saw her entering. Angus said. “Can you not tell Mary or anybody about-.”

“-Entre nous.” Your father interrupted. “This whole damn trip is entre nous. Stand up.”

“What?” You both uttered.

“Stand for the lady, you boors. You cretins.”

You did as you were asked, and Mary sat down once she was at the table.

“Thank you, sorry I’m late.” She squeezed your shoulder as she sat by you. “How’re you doing?”

“Fine.” You smiled. “Just happy you’re here.”

The host handed Mary the menu and the waitress came back. “Hello ma’am, would you like a cocktail to start?”

“Oh no, I’ll just take a cup of tea.” Mary said.

“Oh, come on, have a cocktail.” Your father insisted.

“No, no, a cup of tea is fine, I’ve eaten already.”

“And you three?” She asked the rest of you. “Did you save room for dessert?”

Your gaze drifted over to a nearby table where the waiter was holding a saucepan completely on fire. You asked. “What’s that?”

“That’s out signature dessert, cherries jubilee.”

Angus smiled, just as entranced as you were. “That sounds great.”

Your father laughed. “Bring the young vandals here cherries jubilee.”

She made a face. “I’m afraid I can’t; the dish contains brandy.”

If you had half a mind like some people you knew (Teddy, Daniel, the majority of the male population, etc.), you would have said aloud: “I’ve had stronger shit than that.”

“Yeah, but doesn’t the alcohol just burn off?” Mary asked as if she wasn’t an excellent cook.

“It’s still against the rules, ma’am.”

“Fine,” your father sighed. “I’ll order the cherries jubilee, we can share it.”

“I can’t allow that either.”

Mary pointed between you and Angus. “Can we say it’s their birthday?”

“Yeah, we’re twins!” You leaned over so your face and Angus’s were side by side. “It’s our birthday.”

She chuckled. “Happy birthday. Let’s get you two slices of cake or some other age-appropriate desserts.”

“Christ on a crutch!” Your dad cursed. “What kind of fascist hash foundry are you running here?”

Mary put her hand on his arm to stop him from further pissing off the waitress. “Excuse me ma’am, do you by any chance have cherries?”

“…Yes.” She answered.

“Great, and do you have ice cream?”

“Yes.”

“Fantastic, can we please get cherries and ice cream to go?”

“And the check?” Your father added.

“Right away.”

Once she was out of sight, Mary muttered. “Bitch.”

You snickered. “Hey don’t swear; Jesus was born two days ago.”

“If Jesus had to deal with her, he’d say the same thing.” She sighed.

“Now who’s committing blasphemy?!”

When the check was brought alongside the cherries and ice cream, the four of you put on your coats and left; not without you and Angus grabbing enough spoons. In the parking lot, your father opened the box and poured the remaining bourbon out of his flask.

“Is this a good idea?” You asked, only then realizing you would have to light a box on fire.

“No Josephine,” your father said. “it’s a great idea. Go on.”

Mary, with a cigarette in her mouth, stroke a match and dropped it onto the dessert. It burst into flames.

“Presto! Cherries Jubilee!”

“Cool!” You cheered. “How do we eat it?”

“It should go out…”

It did not go out; instead, the box actually caught on fire.

Mary gasped. “How much alcohol did you put in there?!”

A series of curses all left your lips, and your father tried to grab a flap of one of the boxes but let go of the heat. It fell onto the concrete, but when there was no sighn of danger, you all looked at each other in a beat of silence, then laughed.

Once the failed cherries jubilee went out, all of you just decided to get ice cream at the hotel. Mary would be sleeping there that night since you would leave in the morning. Once you reached the hotel, and the four of you were walking two by two (you with your dad and Mary with Angus), you lowered your voice.

“I need to talk with Angus.” You told your dad. “Just for a second outside. We’re not gonna run away or anything-.”

“-I know.” He said. “Just maybe keep it down to a few minutes? It’s freezing and I want to go to bed.”

You nodded and stopped once you were right outside the hotel. You grabbed Angus’ arm to stop him and he looked at you with a quizzical look. When she noticed her companion wasn’t behind her, Mary also looked at you.

You smiled. “I just need to steal him for a minute.”

She hummed. “Don’t be too long, I want my ice cream.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Both adults went into the hotel, leaving you and Angus outside. It wasn’t as cold as everyone was making it out to be; but hey, Mary and your dad were old so that’s probably why.

“What do you wanna talk about?” Angus asked.

“You got a cigarette?”

He seemed a bit confused at first, but nodded, taking out a pack and handing you one. He got out a lighter from his other pocket, lighting it for you. You took a few puffs before handing it to him, and he took it, thanking you.

“I’m sorry.” You began.

Angus furrowed his brow. “Why?”

“At the hospital,” you explained, taking the cigarette when he handed it back. “I pulled my hand away from you. You were hurting and I was a bitch about it.”

He shook his head. “I lied to you.”

“You did, but that doesn’t mean I should’ve reacted that way.” You sighed. “I was just…I didn’t have a lot of friends growing up, even before I was homeschooled. The friends I did have would make plans to meet up without me in front of me, or would make snide comments about my hair, the books I liked, stupid stuff like that. I was kind of a know it all in class, so I don’t blame them that much, but still. And I…I never knew anyone else who’d lost a parent; at least, I wasn’t close with anyone who did. And I’m…I’m glad your dad is alive; I was just really blindsided.”

Angus nodded, taking the cigarette from you. After taking a drag, he paused before saying. “I told him about you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah…about what I liked about you.” He smiled gently. “That you’re smarter than me, you’re funny, nice-.”

“-I’m not really.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Then so are you,” You countered, leaning against the wall and taking the cigarette. “and I don’t know why you keep insisting you aren’t.”

He mirrored you. “…I don’t know either.”

You dropped the cigarette once it was finished, stomping it out. “For the record, I think you’re really sweet.”

He snorted. “Now that’s funny.”

“Will you shut up for a second?” You sighed. “You don’t have to be Audrey Hepburn. I mean, shit, you got me a book just because I couldn’t find mine. You…you put up with the bullshit I gave you early on, and didn’t judge me about Daniel. So don’t you dare tell me you’re not sweet.”

He nodded, staring up at the sky, and for a moment, you thought you saw tears prick his eyes the more you went on. When you were finished, he wrapped his arms around you without warning. Still, it was not unwelcome.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I should have told you.”

“I get why you didn’t.”

“No, it wasn’t fair to you.”

It wasn’t, he was right about that. Still, how could you hold it against him? With a sigh, all you said was.

“Mothers and fathers…”

He nodded. “Mothers and fathers.”

His mom shipped him off to boarding school to forget about him, his dad was essentially dead to the world around him.

Your mother was dead period, and your father wanted to forget about you when you didn’t want to forget about him…

A strange parallel you two were. Perhaps you were always meant to find one another out of the billions of people on earth.

“Could I ask you something?” Angus spoke up. You hummed in response. “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

He asked as if he genuinely didn’t know the answer.

You pulled away, kissing his cheek. “As long as you don’t pretend I’m not when everyone comes back to school.”

“Never thought of it.”

The two of you stayed there in each other’s arms for just a little longer. When you both decided it was time to go in, you separated and walked hand in hand back into the hotel.

[mscherub]

Right, so…you’re transported to a new world, and me being the science geek I am, I can’t help but think of all the bacteria you wouldn’t be accustomed to in Twisted Wonderland…so imagine how bad flu season would be, or just the spreading of sicknesses around the school in general

You better have a good immune system cause oml would it be put into overdrive. Anyways…here’s my twist on what the Ignyhide boys would do in order to be helpful in your recovery ❤️‍🩹

Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignyhide, Diasomnia

Warnings!:

Sickness, obviously

Mentions of vomiting, snot, etc

To start us off…

It’s flu season in Twisted Wonderland, well you call it the flu, they call it something else you don’t even bother to learn. With you’re immune so shot and not used to the illnesses that spread around, getting sick more often that you honestly should, you woke up with a headache. Ok…nothing too serious, but you thought it to be a good idea to just take some ibuprofen equivalent in their world and “thug it out,” which ultimately lead to your current situation. Currently, you’re in the infirmary, having passed out from a raging fever and a disgustingly congested respiratory system during PE and you’re bed ridden back at ramshackle, at least until your fever goes down. Sevens bless Grim and the ghosts as they try and get you things to feel better, but you need some sort of intervention, and here comes you’re favorite person at the right time. How do they help you out?

Idia (And platonic ortho):

First of all, good luck getting him to come out of his room, but if Ortho really really convinces him then you’ll have a chance. Ortho comes with, obviously, for Idia’s emotional state more so than yours…

Idia will sit with you in your room quietly on his tablet or any gaming devices he’s brought with him, sitting off in the armchair. He’ll spare you a glance every now and then but he’s a little out of his comfort zone right now. If he can have Grim for a little then that’ll be a bonus for him

Ortho will regularly check up on your temperature and set reminders on when you should take medicine. He’ll also search the internet for other remedies he can find or make to help alleviate the more severe symptoms you may have

Idia will try and pitch in, he’ll offer to share his sweet snacks, but of course if your feeling a bit finicky with the foods you eat at the moment then he’ll back off and try and go into recluse mode again, which then Ortho will take the initiative on food and get you whatever you want

Don’t worry about the assignments, Ortho and Idia have them covered, actually. Idia will do them without him even saying anything to you. A surprise for when you’re better

Ortho will work on disinfecting and waiting on you, getting blankets or pillows, whatever you need. He’ll also do a body scan to see what areas are affected the most…ehhh, a little invasive

After things calm down a bit, if you’re up for it, Idia will play games with you on whatever device or board game he has or can find

He’ll relax more that way and have fun himself. it’s hard being out of his comfort zone, but at least he’s just around you

Ortho is just happy he could get Idia out, especially to help you out. Ortho’s learning a lot about how to treat sick people now thanks to the data input you’ve provided him!

Sorry this one was a little shorter. I decided to group them up because I just couldn’t see Idia helping out by himself, lol. Thanks for reading, lovelies!

Master list

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, reblog if you’d want to!

Pictures are owned by Disney Twisted Wonderland but are edited by me :)

[prettyboypistol]

TF2 Mercs x Romantic M!Reader

Scout

Has never had anyone pull out the stops for him. He's the youngest of 7, his life has been full of hand-me-downs and overlooking.

When you hand him a bouquet of roses he actually fucking cries.

Dinner, a movie while holding hands, cuddling under the stars? God, he feels like a princess in a disney movie and you're his prince charming

Soldier

He's touched, really, he is! But has a hard time expressing it. He gives you a big ol' kiss and thanks you with a smile, but is lowkey pretty awkward when you offer to dance with him.

He looooved the homecooked dinner you made for him- after all, restaurants aren't really his scene. Course after course if just amazing!

Afterwards, you convince him to slowdance/cuddledance with you while whispering sweet nothings into his ear. He blushed so hard you can feel the heat on his cheeks.

Pyro

OH MY GOD??? ALL THIS FOR ME??? THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!!

Well, that's what you think they signed to you as they blubbered tearfully and hugged you. You decorated the recreation room with streamers of deep red and had a bowl of icecream to share while watching a movie!

Their favorite part is when you lit the streamers on fire, making a brief flaming heart.

Demoman

What's better than a roadtrip and sightseeing in a new place? You two snuck out and drove to Dallas for a long weekend out. It took you eons to convince the Administrator for a long weekend too, so it was extra heartfelt!

Big foods, big hats, and big inside jokes nobody else will understand, most of all- you take Demoman out to light fireworks in the desert. Big ones.

With all the clamoring to see the light show, Demoman is elated to kiss you in public with nobody noticing.

Engineer

Going to his favorite museum of engineering and listening to him talk is what Dell found most heartstopping. That dopey look of love as you listened intently had him in a chokehold.

Brushing the backs of your hands together feels more scandalous than holding your hand as you give him a teasing wink.

After, you cook his favorite meal? "Oh darlin', you're an angel."

Heavy

Doesn't know how to react at first, insisting he doesn't need to be spoiled. Then you pull out the handknitted mittens with bear paws on the inside and he's all the way on board to let you spoil him like a king.

You get a thank you kiss for everything you do, a promise to repay the favor later (;P) with every surprise you give him.

Oh boy does he, the more you love on Heavy, the more he loves on you.

Sniper

Survivalist camping with him over the weekend is how you win his heart. He sees you fishing at the crack of dawn and you just smile at him and hand him a pole. The comfortable silence has him blushing like a poppy.

Play wrestle this man. Play wrestle him and win. Pin this man to the ground with a playful yet exerting smile and he will never forget the moment until the day he does and then some. Then kiss him. Do it.

Spy

Ah, a nice restaurant where he doesn't have to worry about the bill, a gala where he doesn't have to assassinate anyone, and a handsome man he isn't obligated to sleep with for information- this is the perfect date!

He's quite the flirt as well, but as long as you can keep up with him, you'll win out in the end with your romance attack modifiers of the date on your side.

Dancing with him is a must, even if you're bad, it's still overwhelmingly charming to Spy.

Medic

YOU BOUGHT HIM NEW SYRINGES AFTER HIS OLD ONES SNAPPED???? AWWW YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE!!!

Much like Spy, Medic loves a fancy dinner and dancing, but he likes the thrill of a mission to help digest his food. That's why you two break into the blood donation truck and take some especially weird samples of blood that you find.

While the police chase you, you two share a kiss. Be gay, do crime!

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[spoilers below cut]

Well, it looks like I got it right. It was a silly episode, though nothing related to the teaser we got. That's a shame. I suppose it's just to hype us up for the future. Either way, let's see what this is about!

(the following is my live reaction:)

shoes, huh? ......spaghetwhat now?

oof, yeah man you're gonna need a new pair

ooh damn. well, it is Bob after all. ofc he would say that 😌↕️

nah it's still bullshit, idc what anyone says

why, this doesn't look suspicious at all. a mirror shop conviently placed here on an alleyway

"🤨?" what? I gotta be on high alert every episode! Last time, the Team dropped a callback to IGBP out of nowhere, who knows what they drop on us next

uh, wha? how did.....? I shouldn't be questioning the logic of the SMG4 universe, this isn't what's surprising. It's a fact that mirrors were also used in WOTFI 2025 hmmmm

(you guys are gonna have to drag me away from this scene or I'll start thinking too hard on this)

c'mon dude, there's no need to prove yourself of anything

oh hey Swag! how's Chris— *record scratch* ......i'm sorry wha?

😦

RADIATION?

oh i did not like the realistic mouth ADKL;JK

wait hold up! enhance... ENHANCE....

....is that who I think it is? there's no way, right?

IS THAT STEVE? omg HI it's been so long

FM?! it's really you? omg ^^ it's been.... oh wow, it has been years, hasn't it? anyway damn, it's been SO long

like I know FM and X aren't gonna come back but it is heartwarming to see them again after a few years. We mostly seen Cube walking around

she was a fairy 🧚✨

see? I told yall Mario would totally be a disney princess (that crowd's just being a much of haters)

I ain't trusting that, hell no

AY back to the clubhouse!

Oh, Depresso, I didn't expect you to come back from Karen's arc

....😶 "what?" well, I was gonna say that I hated that heavy breathing like. Mario, what the hell did you do? But for some reason, this starting to remind me of something. I'll talk about it later if this is going where I think is going

ofc the meme guardians would be the ones who enjoy this lol

well, 4 would be the one doing the redesigns. this tho.....

and now Swag's glowing green smh, told yall I don't trust it

Well, it was mostly 3 that made fun of you, Mario, but that's bc it's 3 we're talking about. I suppose from how you feel, you might remember it things differently

MORE?!

Mario, telling you rn, it ain't worth it

yeah, I knew Swag was gonna say "CHUG"

😨 oh i don't like that..... I think my hunch may be correct

(also don't

what is up with his hand? he destroyed a nokia, and yall know those are practically indestructible

guys, i don't like this

😨😨😨

MIYAMOTO NOOO

the cutaway from that fight scene tho LMAO

JAMES?!

why did I have a feeling 3 would like this new look? lol (it actually makes me think)

killer fish from san diego.... (FISH MENTION?!)

well, 4, what else did you expect? This seems like a normal SMG4 plot honesty, it just feels.... a bit strange if that's how I would describe it

*points at 3* Can we talk about the fit tho? the puzzles hoodie and the silly pants..... that's a Fit (with a capital F) if I ever seen one 😎

perhaps one day we get James to do a 3 cosplay like Luke did? maybe???

and that's a fire bound to happen

....omg, Bob? Was this from the explosion?

it'll never be enough, right? but also this is Bob, he's got a whole set of standards

oh yea, this is VERY similar to the thing I'm going to talk about

Mario: "I WILL be pretty" :( aw but you were

EXACTLY, you really did have a point from the start

TIME TO SHUT THIS DOWN

Do the thing, Mario! YEAH

It's bad enough as it is that people were already mad about the switch 2 (and by extension the new mario kart) would be expensive

Well, at least Miyamoto listened

Wow, 3 was really happy with this new form until he was changed back. huh.

Look, I know it's supposed to be funny and all, but something's telling me it goes deeper than that. And I'm gonna talk about it OBVIOUSLY. You are talking to a theorist here, ofc I would overanalyze stuff

At least, things are back to normal

and THERE! Right there is all I need, thanks Team!

Such a tease to have the cafe right there and Swag coming out of it, but we don't get to be in it (*head in hands* /lh) one day tho....

*explodes* <- that is probably the second episode in a row that ended with an explosion

Congrats to Michelle940607 for your art being featured in the end credits! 🎉 seriously some of the art I've seen from you guy look like they belong in a museum omg

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

This certainly was an episode and I'm not quite sure what to think of it /gen. It did start off and very similar to a classic SMG4 plot, I noticed we got a lot more of Mario's 64 version in this one. But for some reason I can't point my finger on it, hmm.

I'll be real, it did feel a bit uncomfortable of the whole "true beauty" thing and all that jazz, but it was a nice message at the end with Mario accepting himself. As someone who has dealt with self-image issues before, it hits closer to home more than anything. The good thing is that we got our silly goofball back.

"So, what's the big deal about your hunch?" Well, I'm glad you asked, chat. For most of the episode, I couldn't shake this feeling of familiarity until I remembered what it was when Mario transformed the second time.

You see, there is a body-horror film called "The Substance". I do wanna warn that there is a bunch of gore and things that make want to look away, I know not all of you have the stomach to look it up so I might as well warn you now. It's also the whole point of the film to make you feel uncomfortable and unsettled, perhaps even grossed out. Basically, the film brings up the topic of perfection and societal beauty standards, more specifically in Hollywood. Truly, the victim of the film is an older actress desperately wanting to bring her perfect self while at the same time hating herself for how she looks now, despite being beautiful anyway. She took a serum (that was a radioactive-green color) and it worked, only later to abuse it bc of the perfection mindset Hollywood put on her.

Perfectionism, it really leads someone to their downfall....

There's a reason I brought this film up. Throughout the whole episode, it felt off. Sure, I was uncomfortable about "fixing" one's self image, but there was another thing. The close-up to Swag's realistic mouth, the mirror. The radiation given to Mario, the heavy breathing and distortion of his body. Hell, even the way Mario feel against the table and knocked the book off from it. This is practically a PG-13 version of the film, except y'know with Mario and in the SMG4 universe. Heh, and wouldn't you know it, pink being used in the two medias to represent perfection. (you're gonna have to trust me on this for those who don't know)

Now, can we talk about 3? We GOTTA talk about 3.

On hindsight, it's part of the joke that someone would like their new look and get sad when everything turns back to normal, which in this case was 3. And it indeed caught me so off-guard to see James just there, it did get a laugh out of me. BUT if you put this context of the film in mind, this bit adds on to the topic of 3's insecurities. He already feels like the "worst version of 4" and still getting used to having friends. Then, to have this radioactive solution that supposedly makes you look perfect and become "true beauty" on him, 3 looks really happy about it. Sure, he goes on to say how he's handsome and is "The Rizzler", but that might be him trying to put up a front of his own self-image to others. And maybe to himself. Ofc everything reverts back to the way it was and 3 is upset about it. Back to being the "worst version of 4". Not to mention 3 wearing a Puzzles hoodie, y'know the one always in pursuit for perfection.

The more you think about, it really is sad.

Speaking of 4, he was the completely opposite. 4 was the first one to ask Mario what the hell did he do to them and was dumbfounded to know the reason why, for shoes. Until the very end, you can see 4 being unhappy until he's back to his old silly self. He didn't want this "perfection". Now, this is not me trying to connect it to goop!4, really I'm not. But it is just interesting that 4 didn't accept the unexpected "perfection" and rejected it.

Maybe I'm looking too much into thing and likely that the Team didn't plan all this, but these are my thoughts. Personally, it was an ok episode, all things considered, but I know some people aren't happy about it which that's fair. I just hope some people *cough cough* reddit *cough* don't take things too far and start blaming our new writer. We're just getting started and I did get a catch on some of their work, so I can put in a good word. Please do give them a chance, looking at you reddit. Not all episodes are going to be heavy-hitters and that's okay. There's always another week.

It's valid if you don't like the episode or you're unsure what to feel, just don't go looking for someone/something to blame on. Perhaps it's me being too optimistic, who can say? Besides, I know the Team's cooking, I got a hunch

I still can't believe Evan from the Team actually followed me omg

Anyway, it is an interesting direction the Team went with this episode and I do hope we get more of 3's inner turmoil of being "4's worst copy" like the "Trash Friends" episode. Oh, and they follow-up on the Puzzles and WPNZ teaser somehow, a prison escape perhaps?? Who knows!

As for all of you, if you are dealing with self-image/body issues, just know that you're a wonderful person inside and out. It might not feel like it bc we're talking behind a screen, but seriously you don't have to change to be loved. You already are, and very much friend-shaped to give you a virtual hug 🫂💙 If you want, talk to somebody about it and try to handle it in a healthy and respectful way to yourself. For example, instead of the usual black hoodies I wore in high school, I dress and doll myself up with some nice and comfy clothes. Even if I'm not going out, I still do it and that helped me rebuild some confidence in myself. You can always do what you can for yourself, however you can :)

Well, that's all from me folks! I do apologize taking a while to post this out there. Just putting out fires in my production job, y'know the usual. I'll see yall in the next one, and remember: numbers always go first!

...wow, I can't believe we got to see FM after so long. That's wild. I do wonder how Chris is doing tho

[winwintea]

winwintea's super SEXY and COOL rec-list

author’s note ↬ i really need to start saving and liking half of the fics i read bc i end up not being able to find them again... a lot of these are smut (bc i am a whore sometimes) so mdni with those tagged with s!

last updated ↬ september 11th, 2024

𝐊𝐄𝐘 ↬

f — 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟

a — 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭

h — 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞/𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 

s— 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍/𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾

𝖭𝖢𝖳 𝖣𝖱𝖤𝖠𝖬

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐋𝐄𝐄 ↬

𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐱𝐢𝐞 𝐝𝐮𝐬𝐭 by @sehunniepotwrites ↳ disneyland au | f | 11.9k words 

There are so many ways your friend group could have chosen to celebrate your graduation from university but they chose the one way that fit their childlike antics most of all–going to Disneyland. With all the screams of joy and laughter filing the atmosphere, you see why people call it The Happiest Place on Earth. It’s where magic comes alive, hearts soar to the skies, and where dreams come true. With your dream job already lined up for you once you get back from this vacation, you wonder if your last and wildest fantasy–the one that carries Mark Lee endearingly close to your heart–will take flight. (But don’t worry; your best friends, with a little help of pixie dust, are determined to make it come alive by the end of night.)

perfection like literally. i love disney. so so so much.

𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 by @yojeongin ↳ husband au | s | 19.5k words 

all mark ever does is use weaponized incompetence to get out of small tasks you ask of him. when he finally realizes you resort to his close friends to do what he can’t— nothing can prepare him for what’s in your pandora box; now karma is set in motion.

toxic as hell... i didn't know what to think of myself after this. but it's extremely well written.

𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨 by @hazyhae ↳ plug + stoner au | a, f, s | 14.4k words 

a high slip up cost you mark lee years ago, and you’ve spent years burying your memories of him ever since. the universe has other plans for you when your old friend starts a new career, smoking his way back into your life.

love love their work, even has a whole post dedicated to explaining weed basics 101 which i appreciate. A LOT

𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 by @spiderm444rk↳ smau | f | ongoing

you, as the promising journalism student of NCUT, were more than willing to join the school magazine when you got offered. to your disappointment, the only section they let you have is the anonymous confessions one - which is mostly really, really boring. i mean, who even posts any cool confessions nowadays ? especially in a damn college magazine ? they only offered you the job no one else wanted. on the other hand, mark, a business student, was never more annoyed with the choice of his major. sure, business is cool and hopefully it’ll earn him money, but it’s not something he could really get into. he always wanted to do music. but after long considering, he chose business instead, to make sure he gets a real job in the future. and he doubts that choice was correct more and more every day. once the school band announces they’re looking for a new guitarist, he’s absolutely ready to apply until he reads the ‘music students only’ part. pissed off, he starts typing a message to the gc, but it ends up going to a different number - and you finally get to help some poor random stranger who confessed with something interesting.

sucker for mark lee and bands 😋😋

𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐬 by @https-lvesick ↳ spiderman smau | a, f | ongoing

toronto has never been so chaotic, but things are working out since the spiders appeared to save the citizens. spiderman and silk are the city's biggest saviours and they count on them to keep them safe, even the police. but, aside from their big responsibilities, they’re just teenagers, trying to be themselves and keep their grades good, trying to have a social life and maybe a love life as successful as their superhero life. but… what’s easier to tell? that you have a crush on your best friend or that you’re a mutant superhero?

so so so so hyped for this since it started and excited for it still... a spiderman smau is just so good especially for mark <33

𝐇𝐔𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐍 ↬

𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 by @strrykais ↳ fantasy au + smau | f, a | ongoing

did you know that angels walk the earth before they get accepted into heaven, being tasked to watch over a human and complete their assignment. renjun was excited to finally have the chance to earn his wings, until he finds out his task is getting you to love life. a very depressed girl meets a very desperate boy, can they learn that maybe staying on earth isn't such a bad thing after all.

so hyped for this one actually even though it's the newest one on this list i think.

𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐭𝐰𝐨. 𝐭𝐞𝐧. by @zchl ↳ angsty little drabble | a | 1k words

(doesnt have a summary) renjun in the hospital, you're waiting for news.

literally broke me.

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 by @hwanchaesong ↳ exes to lovers | a, f | 1.1k words

[part of the after hours series] Y'all bring gravity to shame because even with its constant pull of 9.81 m/s^2, it still can't put your drunken pieces back together.

the series is so good check it out. this one is my fav though, it's just honestly a scenario i've never thought about before.

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐉𝐄𝐍𝐎 ↬

𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 by @hazyhae ↳ fwb to lovers + plug!jeno | f, a, s | 4.7k words

jeno doesn't think he's ever felt this restless in his life. maybe he's been smoking a bad batch of flower, or maybe it's the fact that you haven't knocked on his door in over a month.

oh god. jeno isn't even one of my ults or wreckers but damn this hits the spot actually?

8 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 by @nanaxwii ↳ friends to lovers | f, a, | 1.3k words

Why do all good stories come to an end? Why don’t we try to make it work? It just takes 8 letters to fix it all, or does it…?

loving this one... it's filled with tooth rotting fluff that's so cute omg... i love them.

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐂𝐊 ↬

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫 by @lyvhie ↳ established relationship | f | 2k words

you just want to show your boyfriend how important he is to you.

like the title it's literally so sweet... tooth-rotting fluff

𝐩𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 by @lqfiles ↳ smau | f | ongoing

after getting evicted out of your old place, you're left with no other choice but to look for a cheaper alternative. which is how you end up becoming neighbors with lee haechan, who has a passion for music and disturbing whatever peace and quiet there is. or in which you found yourself a very nice apartment, the only issue? your neighbor is your friend's somewhat ex-situationship who won't stop playing his guitar at 2 am in the night.

you will absolutely shit yourself reading this (in a good way dare i say?)

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐧 by @diorcities ↳ ballet au | s, h | 20.9k words

docile bodies loaded with lethal venom and betrayals are commonplace in the prestigious academy, and you happen to be their new prey when you're given the starring role with the smooth seducer with the devil's carved grin that everyone desperately desires: haechan

probably the filthiest one on this list? read the tags before reading, might be too much. it's just extremely poetic...

𝐍𝐀 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍 ↬

𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 by @polarisjisung ↳ fighter au | a, f | 2.7k words

it's routine— you patch up his wounds and watch them heal, he salts your wounds but doesn't stick around long enough to watch them grow.

i hate you for this hua (esp part 2) but i also love to drown in angst

𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 by @markiemelon ↳ friends to lovers(?) au | f | idk lol

going over to jaem's house to crash a couple of times leads to something...

this was so sweet omg

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭 by @polarisjisung ↳ enemies to lovers smau | f, a | ongoing

going ovevery college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easierer to jaem's house to crash a couple of times leads to something...

unfortunately i cannot put cherry flavored, but this is just as good. check it out!!!

𝐙𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐄 ↬

𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧 by @lowkeychenle ↳ friends to lovers(?) au | s, f, a | 9k words

Chenle is everything you want--everything you need. Somehow, the thought of him manages to pull you back in even after you were free. Messy kisses, late night trysts, and him tracing the word 'mine' on your thigh--barely anything, so how could you possibly be guilty as sin? (based on Guilty As Sin? by Taylor Swift)

fucked me over so badly.

𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭! by @wonbin-truther ↳ idol smau | f | smau

idol chenle x idol reader try to avoid dating rumors

this was SOO FUNNY

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 by @lyvhie ↳ established relationship | s | 2.5k words

a stupid little game seems to be enough to make you speak with recklessness and throw reason out of the window in the heat of the moment. but since you were unwilling to be so easily placated, chenle was decided to talk some sense into you.

i fully choked the day i read this. had to take a breather omg 😵😵

𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐞 by @mins-fins ↳ royalty au | f, a | 22.7k words

where crown prince zhong chenle, forced into a marriage with a woman he doesn't like and riddled with complicated feelings, finds solace in the palace's very own medic, you.

actually such a sucker for royalty fics... and chenle is so prince coded

𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐮𝐭𝐲 by @aehyei ↳ parallel universe + time traveling au | f, a | 6.4k words

After a long day of stressful practice, Chenle finds himself in deep sleep on his bed and wakes up when a strange child that came from nowhere jumped on him—scaring him in the progress. To add to everything, the young idol learns that he just traveled to the future and is able to meet his future daughter. But will Chenle be able to be that great husband and father when he doesn’t even have a single clue on what’s going on?

one of my ABSOLUTE FAVORITES I HAVE EVER READ. if you're gonna read any of these read this.

𝐒𝐄𝐑Á 𝐔𝐍𝐀 𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 by @galacticseonghwa ↳ biker smau | f, a, s | ongoing

your friends were all you needed, they were your brothers from another mother they loved to say. but that all went to shit after ricky dragged you to one of his motorbike sprints. who are you to say no when ricky's opponent claws his way into your inner circle and present himself as your dream man?

really really good and underrated... i love chenle can you tell...

𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 by @chenlesfavorite ↳ motorcyclist smau | f, a | ongoing

working night shifts 24/7 at the convenience store while also supporting your boyfriend’s obsession with watching motorcyclists race is not easy, but little did you know that one of the bikers that he loves soon gets involved with you.

wdym this is ending soon... no way.... im gonna cry wtf

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆 ↬

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐮𝐫 𝐮𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 by @aehyei ↳ high school au | f | 7.2k words

You love stories. If anyone would ask, you’d rather live in it then wake up another day in a world where everyone’s having the love story you’ve been daydreaming about. Of course falling in love with your best friend never came across your mind so it was a bit of a mess when you realized Jisung didn’t only view you as a ‘friend’. 

so so so so sos sos cute omfghsdjsah

𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐦 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 by @jirsungs ↳ college smau | f | completed

a story about a college student enjoying her life in school perfectly fine, until one of her friends drags the group along to watch their school's band perform. little did she know that day would be marked as the day her whole world turned upside down because of a particular, nonchalant, and difficult drummer boy. a drummer boy who spilled his entire drink on her brand new outfit at a party and never came back.

i actually binged this in a day bc it was so good

𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐝 by @babbymochiiii ↳ discord call au (if you know where this is going...) | s | ??? words

you and jisung have discord date night, where things take a turn.

sorry guys im.. a little shameless sometimes...

𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 ↬

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡 by @jaysng ↳ friends to lovers | f | idk lol

jay and mute reader both seem to like each other, just when he thinks that his confession was a pure failure the reader does something surprising.

this was just so sweet i literally fell in love with him all over again

𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 by @yeonzzzn ↳ zombie apocalypse au | f, h, a, s | 26.2k words

in the middle of the apocalypse, you and jay find each other in a situation of life and death, using the protection of each other to get to the next safe zone. unfortunately for the both of you, things take a turn once secrets get revealed and the fight for survival becomes greater.

probably one of my personal favorites on this list teehee. i love jay park.

𝐖𝐄𝐍 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐔𝐈 ↬

𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨 by @wheeboo ↳ dark + psychiatric facility au | f, a, h | 12.8k words

in which a new patient is assigned for treatment under your care, and you begin to put the puzzles and pieces together to a past case that you thought to have ceased away from your mind.

literally had me gripping the edge of my seat as i read this

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐇𝐄𝐄 ↬

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐰𝐨 by @wonbin-truther ↳ influencers smau | f, a | ongoing

sohee was a well known streamer, having grown his fanbase over covid with the game minecraft and slowly branched into other games along with sponsorships and modeling offers. he was also well known for being your number one twitter fanboy, never missing one of your posts even if fashion wasn't his greatest interest. what happens when a modeling gig brings him face to face with you?

this was a really sweet smau omfg... and sohee streamer just makes so much sense...

𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍 ↬

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 by @sehunniepot ↳ disneyland cast member au | f, a, h | 12.8k words

in which a new patient is assigned for treatment under your care, and you begin to put the puzzles and pieces together to a past case that you thought to have ceased away from your mind.

if y'all have anything disney related send my way cause i'll literally eat it all up. JUST LIKE THIS ONE.

𝐌𝐀𝐄𝐃𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐔 ↬

𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐝 by @slytherinshua ↳ established relationship | f | ~500 words

jealous riku over seiji from whisper of the heart

i need more riku content omfg. ALSO THIS IS PERFECT? ITS JUST A DRABBLE BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH?

SEND ME UR FICS SO I CAN READ THEM BTW !!!! i'll try to update this as often as i can... or maybe make more depending on the amount on here, but thank you all so much for the wonderful stories <33

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐋𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: I'm rewatching Gilmore Girls for the thousandths time and ... my crush on Luke is still alive and kicking...

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ISTJ

Hufflepuff

Lawful Good

Scorpio Sun, Capricorn Moon, Aries Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・A grumpy man on a good day, intolerable on a bad day and luckily for you, you met on one of his worst

・You labelled him as a jerk, and vowed never to go near him nor his cafe for the rest of your life

・But then your car broke down and he was the first person to drive past you.

"Need any help?"

"Yeah- oh. No, no I do not," you said to Luke and slammed your car door closed. Hautily crossing your arms over your chest and staring forward.

"Oh c'mon," he called out from his open window.

・This interaction solidified a new way of looking at Luke. You didn't hate him anymore ... no, quite the opposite. But you were damn sure he still hated you

・Heavy on the will-they-won't-they trope. It went on for four months before you both couldn't take it anymore.

・There was something pulling you towards him, like a constant ache and whenever you saw him, it was relieved. You knew you loved him two months after knowing him. And it hurt so much seeing him go out with anyone else.

・But god, by a goddamn Stars Hollow miracle, he saw you. Finally saw what you saw in him.

・Very,, very family orientated. You're in trouble? He's dropping everything to help you.

・You're sitting next to Luke on the couch watching tv and suddenly get a call saying one of your siblings needs help? Luke is already up and putting on his shoes.

・You can try and help him but he shoos you inside and says he's got this.

・Goes over and above for anything that you want.

・Will literally save up everyday until he reaches his money goal to take you to Disney Land because you told him one night you really wanted to go.

・Stubborn as all hell, thinks he knows best but you're the only person who can make him fold.

・When you first told him you loved him, he nearly got the air knocked out of him.

・He's incredibly touch-starved, and doesn't want you to know that (but of course you know that...)

・Despite the grumpy exterior, Luke has shown moments of being supportive and encouraging

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

The Moon and His Star

"Why are you babying me" (Luke) x "Because I know you like it" (You)

Acquaintances to Standing Up For Him to Friends to Lovers

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Enemies-To-Lovers

Like Calls To Like

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Into My Arms by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞 No one under the age of 18 past this point, makes me feel weird if you read it.

Also, for the most part it's gender neutral but in the nsfw section there's female genitalia used for the reader.

I wasn't going to add this but ... I want to ... but for some reason thinking about Luke & smut makes me blush so hard so please forgive me for any mistakes or such :')

・You both stand mere centimetres apart. Your breaths mingling as the snow slowly falls around you.

・Standing outside his diner, you shivered as Luke's hand slowly moves around your waist and pulls you close

・Your lips melt into his, your hands gripping his jacket. Trying desperately to get closer to him. To press against him, to feel ... to feel anything of his body.

"Let's go upstairs," he mumbles against your lips, his hands roaming around your body.

・Your first time together was fast at first; ripping each other's clothes off. Trying to see each other's naked body and drink it all in.

・But once the clothes had been discarded, you both became very ... sensitive and vulnerable.

・So, it slowed down, and rough touches turned into gentle caresses.

・Luke couldn't stop staring at you, smelling you; he wanted to lose himself in you.

・You love riling him up; obviously not when people are around. But teasing him at home; rubbing his crotch innocently.

・Nibbling at his ear, giving his neck a kiss or two, and then walking away.

・Luke's reaction is always the same - nose flairing, hands curling into fists; he knows this game. He's just never good at playing it. He hates teasing. He'd rather just pin you down and jump your bones.

・But you love how much you can provoke him; it means he loves you that much that your touch drives him wild.

・Blow jobs are one of his favourite things; he never expects you to do it, and for a while he never let you service him. But now that he knows you enjoy it too...god his heart pounds whenever he thinks of it

・Loves pulling you to the edge of the bed, slipping down your pants/lifting your skirt and practically ripping your underwear from you. He holds your thighs apart and eats you like a starved man

・At first he doesn't like your sex toys; feeling inferior to them.

・But you showed him how they can be used in sex for heightened pleasure.

・You still haven't gotten Luke to a sex shop though. He has vowed never to stand a foot in that shop.

[janeyseymour]

If This Is Love

Summary: Melissa's not familiar with what love should be. You come along though, and you turn her whole view on love upside down. Based off of Ingrid Michaelson's "If This is Love" from the notebook musical- and please give the song a listen, as it's my own cover!

WC: 3.25k

Since the day that Melissa Schemmenti could form coherent thoughts, she dreamt about finding love. As a little girl, she wasn’t quite shown love- seeing her parents’ marriage turn into hatred and then a messy divorce. Her aunts and uncles weren’t much better. But being a young girl who grew up with Disney princess movies where Prince Charming comes whisking the princess away, and then after falling in love with reading, the young redhead was determined to find love.

And she did… or she thought she did. Joe came along her junior year of high school, perhaps when she was the most vulnerable she could be. Being in the midst of moving house once again, dealing with a father who was as good as dead to her at this point, and having the body insecurities that every teenage girl has, she would find love in the wrong place with Joe. Not that she knew it at the time. No, she wholeheartedly believed that Joe was her true love- he didn’t degrade her or hit her the way she watched her father treat her mother. She had broken the cycle.

Until she didn’t. Until she grew up while Joe stayed the boyish person that she thought would grow up with her. And while Melissa blossomed into a lovely, yet somehow still relatively tough and true to South Philly, teacher, Joe found himself at a standstill. That did not bode well for the redhead. It led Melissa Schemmenti to the life that she had so desperately been trying to avoid, and yet here she was.

With the help of her new found friend at work, the second grade teacher was able to get away from her husband. And in that act, Melissa Schemmenti and Barbara Howard were bonded for life.

Since leaving Joe, Melissa has rarely let love into her life. Of course, she yearned to satiate her desires and often let herself, but the men that she went home with or brought back to her home were very clearly one night stands. A no strings attached situation.

If the redheaded divorcee couldn’t make it work with what she thought was her first love, her true love, her life partner, there was no point in letting anyone else in, as much as she still wished and dreamt of Prince Charming to come sweep her off her feet and carry her away to a palace, to a happily ever after.

And then you came along. Everything that the rough and tough woman thought she knew about herself went out the window. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t actually need a Princess Charming… but a Princess Charming?

That threw her for a whole new loop, but still the redhead stood her ground and refused to let you into her life in a romantic way because of her prior experiences. Well, the more accurate statement is that she tried to refuse to let you into her life in a romantic way.

But you, with your sweet charm and truly kind heart, had wormed your way into that one spot that Melissa so desperately kept guarded. As time goes by, the two of you grow close, and it’s… it’s nice. It’s almost as if the two of you have slipped into a relationship without either of you really knowing it.

Until Barbara Howard, your favorite redhead’s work wife, makes it apparent to Melissa just how in deep she is. And the glass shatters around her as she sees exactly what the kindergarten teacher is speaking of.

I've waited every day to feel the way I feel. Knots in my stomach, the kind that never heal. Butterflies that fly in me and never seem to go away.

It is true that Melissa has been waiting everyday to feel the way she feels about you. From the time she was little, she wanted to feel unconditional love for someone, and all the somewhat broken girl wanted in return was the same connection from someone else. Green eyes soften and glance down at her hands as she realizes you provide that warmth and love that she craves and has been craving for years now. The thought of it alone makes her stomach knot, but she oddly finds that she doesn’t ever want those knots, butterflies really, to go away when she thinks about you. It’s a warm, somewhat pleasant feeling when you simply greet her with a gentle smile or softly spoken words. It’s in the way that you show her you care for her, backing up the words that you promise her everyday. As opposed to just the words, you show her that you mean them. And… it makes her heart flutter. She remembers the first time she ever felt that with you, and it brings a warmth to her soul like no other.

Melissa comes into the staff room looking exhausted and a little pale, if you’re being honest. The second grade teacher throws her purse on the chair that she usually occupies before sighing heavily as she makes her way to the coffee machine.

“Long night, Schemmenti?” you tease her. “Out avoiding all your problems again?”

She looks to you with a tiredness in her eyes that, despite her appearances, you still weren’t really ready for. “No. I was in bed by nine, and my body feels like it’s absolutely dragging today.”

By the time her coffee is ready, she hasn’t engaged in conversation with anyone else in the room, and she simply gathers her things and heads for her own classroom. That’s quite odd. Unusual. Maybe she really isn’t feeling well.

Come the time for lunch, your kids have you going crazy. All you really want to do is sit in your classroom for some much needed peace and quiet, but your curiosity about how your favorite redhead gets the best of you. So, with a soft sigh to yourself, you make your down to the staff lounge. You know you’re a few minutes later than you would be on a normal day, so when you walk in to see that Melissa isn’t sitting in her spot, you grow a bit concerned.

“Where’s Mel?” you ask Barbara.

The kindergarten teacher shrugs. “I know she said something about her kids having her wiped and maybe staying in her room to nap during lunch.”

Your brows furrow, and you grab her lunch from the refrigerator before heating it. Once it’s hot and ready, you gather your own meager lunch and head down to the redhead’s classroom.

What you see when you walk in is not what you expected at all. The woman is wearing her winter coat, she has the blanket that she usually sits on draped over her, and she’s asleep on the carpet as she leans against the beanbag that she usually keeps in her calm down corner.

You frown before crossing your way over and feeling her forehead. She’s burning up. It’s clear she isn’t feeling well, because when you expected her to bat at your hand, she doesn’t so much as flinch at your touch. 

“Mel,” you shake her gently, so as not to disturb her quite as much. She doesn’t stir in the slightest.

With a frown, you take her things back down to the staff lounge, stick it in the fridge, and then grab your keys. If she’s feeling so terrible that she can’t even stay awake for the entirety of the school day, the afternoon is going to be rough.

“Where are you going, Y/N?” Janine asks. “Aren’t you going to eat lunch with us?”

“I forgot I have to run out to the store,” you lie.

“Well, when are you going to eat lunch, dear?” Barbara asks as she takes a bite of her salad.

You shrug. “I’ll be fine. I had a big breakfast, and if I really get hungry, I’ll eat while my kids are at music today.” Without another word, you’re out of the staff lounge and running for your car to make it to Acme and back before you have to pick the kids up from their lunch period.

You don’t think you’ve ever been in and out of the grocery store in such quick timing. Your arms are equipped with congestion and fever reducing medicine, a bag of cough drops, tissues, tea bags, honey, and a thermometer.

You hastily eat your lunch on your way back to the school, prepare the mug of tea just how you fix it when you’re sick yourself, and then you’re quietly making your way back into the redhead’s room. She’s just as you left her, although she’s shivering now.

“Mel?” you gently shake her awake. She has to wake up- the kids are almost done their lunch period.

Her eyes open, and she blearily looks up at you. “Y/N?”

“Hey hun,” you smile softly. “It’s time to get up now, but I brought you a few things to help you get through the rest of the-” She cuts you off with a harsh cough that sounds and looks painful. “-the rest of the day.”

You silently present her with some of the medicine and the bag of cough drops. Then you hand her the tea. “Drink it. It’ll help your throat.”

“‘m fine,” the second grade teacher grumbles.

“You aren’t,” you tell her softly. “And that’s okay. You just have to make it the next two hours, and then you can go home and rest tonight, tomorrow, and over the weekend.”

What you had done for her that day, and then even just checking in on her throughout the weekend, it was something special to Melissa Schemmenti. You did all of it out of the goodness of your heart, expecting nothing in return. You just… wanted to be there for her when she was in a time of need. It sent her into a tizzy when she realized that she had more than just platonic feelings for you.

Sick to my stomach when I think about (her) face. But in a good way, in a way I can’t replace/ Nothing can stop this- it’s almost like a hurricane.

If the tougher than nails redheaded teacher thinks her stomach turns in knots when she thought of your sweet, kind actions that you consistently show her, it is no match to the way she feels when she thinks about your beautiful face.

She can recall the first time she laid eyes on you. Stunning was the first word that popped into her head. And then, in her own inner monologue, she chastised herself. That word couldn’t capture how beautiful you are. She decided later on what word best describes your face- ethereal.

It’s something in the way that your eyes glimmer when you’re speaking of something that you’re passionate about- whether that be your kids, the music that you love to listen to, or another hobby of yours entirely, Melissa Schemmenti swears she could get lost in your eyes for forever, and she wouldn’t have a single complaint about it.

Your eyes give so much away in general. She can see when you’re happy, elated, sad, frustrated, angry… just by glancing into your eyes for a split second. The redhead almost swears she can touch your soul when she looks into your eyes. They tell her everything she needs to know. Melissa swears you hold a whole other universe in your eyes that is just waiting to be discovered.

She wants to be the one to discover that piece of you. At first, she had tried to step back from you and stop the feelings that she seemed to harbor for you, but it wasn’t possible. It isn’t possible. You, like a hurricane, came barreling into her life- a force to be reckoned with that can’t be stopped.

If this is love, I’m not ready. If this is love, why am I so unsteady? If this is love, why did no one tell me the pain that I would feel?

The redhead, not wanting to but being forced to, sits in her emotions almost everyday after school. She gets into her car (before either driving to her house to prepare dinner for the two of you, or to make her way over to your place to eat one of your infamous dishes), and she takes in what Barbara had spoken quietly at lunch while you were in the restroom. Shit. Melissa is in deep. She’s not ready for this- not in the slightest. She isn’t in love with you. She can’t be. But if she is… why does she feel so unsteady, so uncomfortable with it.

Taking a deep breath, the second grade teacher calls her best friend.

“Melissa, we just left the building,” Barb answers the phone.

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” Melissa huffs out. Then she makes herself a bit vulnerable. “I- I think you may be right.”

“Well, of course I am,” the kindergarten teacher smirks. “But what am I correct about this time?”

“I- I think I’m in deep for Y/N.”

“And you’re calling me to tell me this because…?”

“Barb,” the usually strong and confident woman says in such a way that Barbara’s heart almost aches for her friend. “If- If this is love, why does it hurt so much?”

“Melissa, dear… if I may, the last times you’ve been in love, they’ve hurt you,” the wise woman says into the phone. “Perhaps you’re projecting the hurt and emotions that you’ve buried deep down onto this.”

“I dunno,” the redhead shrugs. 

“Tell me, when you think of Y/N, how do you feel?”

Melissa bites the bottom corner of her lip before admitting, “Lighter than I’ve felt in a long time… There’s- she’s somethin’ real special, Barb.”

“She is,” Barbara smiles into the phone. “If you want my honest opinion, I think you’ve had enough heartache in your life, and I truly don’t think Y/N is capable of hurting anyone. You are a strong and confident woman, Melissa. And I think you need to open yourself back up to love- for yourself, for Y/N, and so the rest of our friends stop asking me if the two of you are secretly dating!”

The second grade teacher hums into her device, thinking on it. “M’kay, thanks.”

“Think about it, and make a choice, Melissa. But remember, dear: not making a decision is a decision.”

And with that, Barbara hangs up the phone, and Melissa closes her eyes.

If this is love, maybe I’m ready. How do I know? I’m in my head again. If this is love, I think I’m in it. If this is, if this is, if this is love.

The entire drive back to her place, Melissa Schemmenti is all but a basket case. One second, she thinks she’s ready- maybe. And then she’s not so sure. And then she’s asking herself how she would know if she loves you before berating herself for getting herself absorbed in her thoughts to the point that she hardly remembers the drive home.

As she treks her way up the front steps to her house, you pull up with the same bright smile on your face that she saw at the end of the day. And Melissa thinks to herself that she’s used to seeing that beautiful grin after a long day at work- that she could get used to you always being around for dinner, like you have been for months now. Silently, Melissa Schemmenti thinks that if this is what love is, she thinks she just might be in it.

The world around me says no, but I say yes. I wanna scream it out, instead it’s stuck inside my chest. It’s like a bird, in a rage, in a cage- and nobody wants to free me.

The entire time that the two of you dance around the kitchen to make dinner, the redhead’s eyes hardly leave you. You can’t say you don’t notice. Melissa often has an eye on you no matter where you are, whether that be in her home, your house, the school, or elsewhere, but the way that she’s watching you tonight is… it’s different.

Everything in the second grade teacher’s heart is telling her to profess her love for you. To tell you that despite the fact that she’s got a not so great track record with relationships that left her terrified of love and what it can do to people, that you are worth all of those doubts and fears.

You almost ask her what’s going through that pretty head of hers, but you know how the redhead can be. If she doesn’t want to say it, she won’t. So you settle for giving her warm smiles and feather light touches as you maneuver your way through her house with ease throughout the night. What you don’t know is: if you had asked Melissa, she would’ve told you this time. And she actually wanted you to ask. 

If this is love, I’m not ready. If this is love, why am I so unsteady? If this is love, why did no one tell me the pain that I would feel?

When you leave for the night, Melissa is about as confused as Janine was when Gregory was trying to teach her physics. She- she knows that she loves you now, but something was stopping her from telling you tonight, even when there was a perfect opportunity for her to lean in and kiss you. That alone tells her that she isn’t ready. God, why is she so unsteady in her feelings?

The redhead groans as she drags herself to bed, and only once she is in the quiet comfort of her own bed does she truly let herself fall into her thoughts.

Melissa has been burned, seen other people burned, and… her heart quite literally aches, a dull sensation that feels like a knife to the heart, as she remembers what that feels like. She wonders if you’re worth the risk of feeling like that again.

If this is love, maybe I’m ready. How do I know? I’m in my head again. If this is love, I think I’m in it. If this is, if this is, if this is love, I think I’m in it, and in between it, and upside down, and inside out. I think I’m in in, and in between it, and upside down.

Sleep doesn’t come easy for Melissa that night. But when she does finally give into her own exhaustion, she dreams of you. She dreams of what a life could be like with you. 

When she wakes with a soft jolt, the redhead wishes she hadn’t. Dreaming of a life with you was better than reality- a reality where you aren’t hers.

As she sits up in bed, she comes to the conclusion that if this is what love is, she’s in love with you and everything that could be.

Those thoughts are only confirmed when she walks into the staff room, and there you are- practically glowing as the sun surrounds you perfectly as you sip from your coffee mug while grading your students’ spelling tests. You look like an angel- you are an angel in her eyes.

And with enough courage, Melissa knows that this is what love is supposed to be, and she has to do something about it- soon.

If this is, if this is, if this is, if this is, if this is, if this is, if this is love. 

Tags

(and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights

[marzipanandminutiae]

Ranking My Childhood Barbies: Mid-Millennial Edition

I was born in 1993, near a turning point in Barbie styles- from the enormous sparkly eyes and poofy skirts of the 1980s and 1990s to the sleek, sophisticated look of the early 2000s. I was also VERY MUCH not a Barbie kid in the classic sense- I did not have a passion for fashion until I discovered fashion pre-1918 as a teenager. My heart sang for American Girl dolls and every princess and nominally historical fashion doll it could find. If the Haunted Beauty line had dropped in 2001, I would have lost my 8-year-old mind. Which means my nostalgia may be a little to the side of everyone else's, so join me for a walk down memory lane as I rank every non-Disney fashion doll I owned in my childhood. Because I'm 32 and still not over dolls. also bored.

(I'm including release years, but most of these I had a year or longer after they came out)

13. Vols Cheerleader Barbie (1999)

I grew up just outside of Nashville and I won this as a family Easter egg hunt prize when I was...like 7, I think? I knew the prize was a doll. I did not know it was a Sports Doll. My disappointment was immeasurable and my Easter was ruined.

12. Ruffle Fun Barbie (1994)

She was my reward for being toilet trained when I was 2 or 3, and I am told I selected her myself. What tiny Marzi was thinking, I will never know. But she was the first, and that counts for something.

(the "fun" was that the ruffle could go on the neckline or the hem of her dress. truly minutes of mind-blowing play, there)

11. Barbie Sweet treats (1998)

She wasn't a princess or a historical lady, and that lost her Many Points. But she came with fun tiny accessories- I thiiiiink you were supposed to use her "cake molds" as cookie cutters and there was a recipe? I never did, though -and had a very pretty face. Not ideal, but not the worst either.

When I was diagnosed with tourette syndrome at age 7, I remarked that the electrodes they stuck on my head looked like "Barbie spoons." I meant the spoons from this set. Somehow that's a bit emotional to think about.

10. Hula Hair Barbie (1996)

Why did I want this Barbie? DID I want this Barbie? How did she enter my life? No idea. Maybe she always existed at the bottom of the plastic bin in my closet, legs splayed and missing her tinsel skirt, never getting played with. She had pretty hair, which I did like, and at least had a dress-type outfit?

9. Olympic Skater Barbie (1997)

Definitely Not Tara Lipinski Barbie! I loved her extra articulation and sparkly costume. Short skirts lost points for me, but she was An Athlete. She had to be safe on the ice. Babby Marzi understood and respected this. (Also there was a Ken. I did not want the Ken. I had zero Kens, actually. Make of that what you will.)

8. Jewelry Fun- My First Barbie (1996)

Now we're getting into the heavy hitters. Long hair? Check. Pink dress with gauzy off-shoulder sleeves? Check. CROWN (that I could never make stay on)? Big Check. She was not my first- Ruffle Fun Nighmarescape up there took that prize -but she was an early favorite. However, short dress and molded-on shoes? Come on. Amateur hour, Barbie!

7. Princess Barbie (1997)

Yes, she was a princess. But I only got her because my friend had her and I was following the crowd. I called her Purple Princess Barbie for years, and really wasn't overly fond of her. Something about the obvious lipstick and very tanned skin + platinum hair on an obviously white doll made me think of a teacher or a news anchor. Not a princess at all.

"I only got her because Maddy had her," I thought. "that was dumb. I should have gotten a doll I wanted on my own." And a valuable lesson was learned that day.

6. Crystal Jubilee Barbie (1999)

My grandma got her for me as a New Millennium holiday gift, and I thought she was the meanest-looking doll I'd ever seen (until Bratz came along). She was beautiful, yes, but it was the cold beauty of an iceberg or a diamond. She reminded me of Meredith in the Parent trap. I could see her marrying some poor little girl's daddy and getting her shipped off to boarding school. My friend Kiyo genuinely convinced me that this doll was out to kill me in my sleep, and only my other dolls were protecting me from such a horrible fate.

...but like, pretty dress and prettier tiara. Also in hindsight, her face isn't even that mean. Come on, babby me!

5. Butterfly Princess Barbie (1994)

the magnetic rose wand made the sparkly butterflies on her huge also sparkly ball gown flutter

are you not enchanted

4. teen Skipper Fashion Party (2000)

"why is a modern fashion doll so high on the list?"

oh ye of little knowledge. this was not teen Skipper Fashion Party. this...was Nikki

I first saw this doll at a friend's house and I was ENAMORED. her knowing aquamarine eyes. her long, soft hair. her blend of sweetness and strength. Liberated from her Fashion Junji Ito outfit, she could be the perfect warrior priestess of the moon goddess, or a princess who rode dragons (and also had fancy ball gowns sometimes), or a sorceress deep in the mystical forest of the Fair Folk. She had PROMISE. So I got her at FAO Schwarz here in Boston while visiting my sister at college, and a doll love for the ages was born

...until I cut all her hair off and drew black eyeliner and lipstick on her in my 12-year-old Pop Punk phase. Oops.

3. Barbie Princess of the Nile (2001)

my only non-Disney fashion doll of color growning up, and I'm not proud of that, but in my defense I was scared of taking a doll that a little Black or Latina or Asian girl might need to feel Seen. (probably because my mother explained Black Barbies in catalogues as "for little Black girls to have dolls like them," meaning no harm by it). but I guess I figured there weren't any little Ancient Egyptian girls around, so it was fine

besides, Ancient Egypt was so cool! and she was so Shiny! and her hair was all tiny braids, like Brandy the Objectively Prettiest Cinderella! Historically accurate she was not, but she was close enough for me to fawn over.

2. Children's Collector Series Rapunzel Barbie (1997)

that bitch in the pink dress can step off. Movie or no movie, this is the superior Rapunzel Barbie. Fight me. Look at her sweet face. Look at her gown that shimmers as if made of moonlight. Look at her bold divergence from 1990s Barbie's All Pink Always color scheme. I saw this exact photo in a catalogue and fell madly in love. She is still at my parents' house. I still love her dearly. I still get annoyed that even other Millennials only remember the pink-dress movie-having Rapunzel Barbie.

the gold-tinsel-crossed undersleeves. I'll be in the corner sobbing with inexpressible joy.

Princess of Ireland Barbie (2002)

this is not a stock Princess of Ireland Barbie

this is MY Princess of Ireland Barbie (her name is Joan)

with the custom porcelain BJD I had made of her, because I ADORE PRINCESS OF IRELAND BARBIE

this doll was a revelation. for starters, I'd never had a pale white doll before. white Barbies always tended to be tanned, which I thought was kind of weird- my mom and sister weren't tanned. It made sense that my Esmeralda doll and Egyptian Barbie were tan-skinned, because I knew about pretty ladies with naturally dark skin, but not my many blue-eyed blonde Barbies. Joan had this amazing ivory skin, which contrasted gorgeously with her deep red hair and lips. I used to pretend she was actually made of ivory, with emerald eyes and ruby lips (ignore the doll logistics there)

also, cape???? she had a velvet cape??? C A P E. I loved that cape.

I didn't know what "Mackie Face" meant yet, but I loved her intelligent closed-mouth smile; she seemed to have a more interesting expression than the then-common toothy Barbie grin

Joan was the star of my childhood Barbies, and she still has a hold on me even now- with her crown fallen off, her shoes missing, and glue leaking through her rooting holes and making her hair all gummy

[lilacmingi]

CRUELLA DE VIL (DISNEY VILLAINS AU)

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. NO SPAM-LIKING PLEASE

Pairing: Cruella!San x boutique owner!fem reader (ft business partner!Hongjoong)

Word count: 6,745

Note: Okay this one might be my fave out of the whole series!! So many people loved it on Wattpad and I personally am really proud of this one to this day!!

The new window display looked incredible. You had stayed after closing the previous night to put it up in hopes that it would attract some new customers. Not just that, but you wanted to show off the jacket you worked so hard to reform.

You went in to make a few minor adjustments before opening for the day. As you were straightening up the outfit on the mannequin, your coworker and business partner, Hongjoong, walked in adjusting his beret.

Today's ensemble consisted of a white t-shirt with safety pins all over it, thick, black suspenders clipped onto a pair of black pants with a partial red, plaid pleated skirt attached to it—he's always dressing in the most wonderfully unique outfits.

"Morning." You greeted, stepping out of the window display. "You're looking fashionable, as usual."

"Thank you." He grinned, doing a little spin so you could see a full 360 view of the outfit. "I'm experimenting with something different."

"You mean the skirt attached to the pants?"

"Yeah. I think it looks cool, don't you?"

"Yes! I love it. We might be able to sell something like that, hm?" You grinned, raising a brow.

"If the people want it, I'll be more than happy to make more." He said. "Oh, here's your coffee, by the way."

"Ah." You placed your hand on your chest. "You're a doll. Thank you."

"You're welcome." He nodded, heading to the back.

Seconds later, music started playing through the speakers in the store, your lips curling into a pleased smile.

You and Hongjoong shared a similar music taste and you'd both curated the perfect playlist for the store. It's a mix of alternative rock, indie, and a touch of classic rock and indie pop—which was fit for your motley boutique.

The two of you had been friends since college. You both majored in business and shared a love for reforming clothes. It wasn't long until you started making plans for a business. You made a deal to go in together, save the money, and start up your own boutique, and as of one year ago, you did. It was a brilliant idea that blossomed into what it is today.

Yours and Hongjoong's business is located

in one of the fashion capitals of the world—London. You both specialize in thrifting and reforming. The two of you check out local thrift shops and buy pieces to cut up and put back together to make something unique. You can't find clothes like yours and Hongjoong's anywhere else.

"So, I stopped at a couple secondhand shops on my way here. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course I don't. What did you find? Anything good?"

"Well, I found this scarf." He spoke, pulling the accessory from a shopping bag. "The print is unique. I thought maybe we could cut up uneven chunks of the fabric and sew them on a jacket or something."

"Ooh." You nodded, envisioning the piece. "I like that. What else?"

"These dainty little chains and these boots."

"Let me guess. Attach the chains to the boots to make them edgy?" You guessed.

"Yes! This is why we're business partners." He grinned. "I'm gonna go put this stuff in the back with the other pieces."

You hummed in acknowledgement and took a sip of coffee, the sweet taste coating your tastebuds, a slightly bitter aftertaste following.

"Please help get me through the day." You spoke to the beverage as you plopped down behind the register.

Hongjoong emerged from the back room, smoothing out his shirt.

"That window display looks nice."

"Thank you. I did stay late last night to get it set up." You grinned, proudly. "I hope it attracts some new customers."

"It will. It looks fantastic. No other storefronts look like ours." Hongjoong assured you, his eyes trailing off to the dog bed behind the counter, your pet Dalmatian curled up asleep inside.

"I didn't even know Valentino was here." He commented.

"Yeah. He's tired today. He's been sleeping ever since I got here."

"Hey. If that window display doesn't attract new customers, Valentino will."

"Yeah, he's a favorite among our usual customers."

"Speaking of customers." Hongjoong pointed towards the front entrance.

Someone was standing outside in front of the display window, you couldn't see them too well from where you were sitting, though.

"I'm gonna go work on those boots. Just call me if you need me."

"Sure." You nodded, watching Hongjoong disappear behind the beaded curtain separating the front of the store from the back.

You stayed sitting behind the register, assuming the person outside was just perusing and most likely wouldn't come inside.

Just then, the door to the boutique opened, catching your attention. You turned your head and watched as a man with unique half black and half white hair strode into the store. He wore pinstripe pants and a white dress shirt unbuttoned at the top, a tight corset cinched around his waist. On top of the entire ensemble was a cream-colored fur coat draped over his shoulders. His entire appearance practically screamed high fashion and you were left speechless as you stared at this incredibly well-dressed man.

"What's that in the display window?" He asked, pointing with his cane.

"A jacket."

"I know what it is. I'm not stupid. I want to know who made it."

"I did." You answered.

"It's wonderful."

"Thank you." You were surprised to hear this man's praise. "Would you like to see it up close?"

"What kind of question is that?"

You stepped onto the platform in the display window and removed the jacket, bringing it to your new and eccentric customer.

He held it up, examining it, running his gloved fingers over the embellishments on it.

When you first got a hold of it, it was a measly little leather jacket with a couple holes in it, but now it looked like something completely new. You put a couple patches printed to look like newspapers on the jacket to cover the holes and added hundreds of studs and chains to it. To top it off, the word rebel was hand-painted on the back in sharp, white letters.

"I'll take it." The customer finally spoke.

"That's wonderful. Let me ring you up."

He followed you to the register where he paid for the jacket.

At this point, Valentino had gotten out of his bed and wandered around the counter.

"What a cute dog." He commented.

"Thank you. His name is Valentino."

"Like the fashion designer."

"The very same."

"Hm." The man gave a hum of what seemed like approval.

"You know, I just put that jacket out last night. You're the first one to show interest in it."

"What can I say? I have an eye for fashion." He grinned.

"I'd say you do. Your outfit is incredible."

"Oh, this?" He questioned as if it were nothing. "I just threw this together."

Your brows raised at his nonchalance.

"Well, darling, thank you for the jacket." He gave you a wink, retrieving the clothing from the counter. "Perhaps I'll see you around."

You blinked a few times as you watched him stride away, your cheeks feeling slightly warm at the nickname darling.

"Wait." You called out.

The man turned to glance over his shoulder.

"What's your name?"

"San. Don't wear it out, dear."

Just then, Hongjoong emerged from the back seeing San leave the store. The door closed and Hongjoong turned to look at you in your flustered state.

"Who was that?"

"San."

"San who?"

"I don't know, but he was beautiful."

Hongjoong let out a snort. "You're drooling."

You brought your hand up to your mouth, not feeling a thing.

"Am not."

"You were about to."

You rolled your eyes, choosing not to argue back.

A few days passed and all you could think about was the fashionable San. He was only in your store for about five minutes, but he made quite an impression on you, capturing your attention as soon as he stepped into your establishment.

A customer had just purchased a pair of pants with a partial skirt attached to it. Hongjoong only made one tester pair just to see if anyone would buy it.

"Looks like you need to make more of those pants." You commented.

"Looks like I do." Hongjoong smiled.

Your eyes widened as you saw San walking past the storefront, his eyes landing on the new display you set up.

"Oh my gosh." You stood from your seat behind the register.

"What?"

"There he is!" You whispered, pointing to the window.

"That San guy from a few days ago?" Hongjoong asked.

"Yes."

"He came back? That must mean he loved what he bought."

Your cheeks became warm thinking about San loving the jacket so much that he came back.

The door opened and in walked the highly fashionable man from the other day. Today he wore a black and white striped shirt with a long, black trench coat over the top. The pants he wore were the same color as his jacket and were cropped above his ankles, showing off his shiny dress shoes with pointed, metallic-capped tips.

"Hello." Hongjoong greeted as he approached San.

"Hello." San responded as he passed Hongjoong, walking straight to you. "Y/n, my dear."

He took your hand, giving a kiss to the back of it. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

"Yeah. It's a surprise to see you." You managed to say.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he let go of your hand. "You're surprised I came back?"

"Well, yes."

"I wanted to see what else you've got. Hopefully it's as good as that jacket."

"Ah, well, feel free to look around." You gestured to the endless racks of clothes. "We have plenty more items like that."

San turned towards all the clothes and began perusing the store.

You watched as he strode around, his fingers running over the fabric of the clothes hanging up. Every so often, he would pull a piece of clothing off the rack, examining the garment and rubbing the fabric between his fingers. If he found something he liked, he would take it off the rack and toss it over his arm.

"I must admit, I'm impressed." San spoke up.

"Thank you. I can't take all the credit, though. Hongjoong designs a lot of these pieces as well." You spoke up.

"You're both incredibly talented." San praised. "What about this?" He retrieved a pair of pants from the rack.

You remember the trousers well, Hongjoong designed them. He took two different pairs of pants and cut them in half, one black pair, the other red plaid. He sewed them together and clipped a wallet chain onto the belt loops.

"I made those." Hongjoong spoke up.

"Incredible." San murmured. "I'll take these. I have just the right top to pair with them."

Hongjoong offered to ring up the items San had collected while you made yourself busy rearranging a jewelry display.

Once San had paid for his items, he headed towards the door, briefly coming to a stop beside you.

"Keep doing what you're doing, love. There aren't many people who possess the talent you and your business partner have."

"Thank you." You told him.

"Don't mention it." He waved his hand dismissively as he headed towards the door. "Au revoir." (goodbye in French)

Again, you were left speechless and absolutely awestruck.

"He's amazing."

San continued to stop by the boutique over the next couple weeks, always looking for new finds and wanting to know the latest piece of clothing that had been reformed. He even showed interest in Hongjoong's pants with the half skirt attached to it and requested a custom pair of his own. He was practically a regular customer at this point.

Each time he popped into the store, he wore yet another incredible outfit that left you mind blown. He was the most fashionable person you had met—besides Hongjoong, of course.

"You know San?" You asked.

"The one you always ogle at?" Hongjoong asked.

"I do not—" He gave you a look, making you stop mid-sentence. "Yes. That one."

"What about him?"

"Do you think he lives around here?"

"I don't know. Why do you ask?"

"We should hire him."

"What?"

"His style is incredible. We could use someone like him on our staff."

"Hm." Hongjoong hummed. "It's not a bad idea."

The mail slot in the front door opens as today's newspaper falls to the floor. Your dog, Valentino got up to retrieve it, carrying it over to you.

"Ah, the paper. Thank you, Valentino." You thanked your Dalmatian, taking the newspaper from him.

You unrolled the paper, pausing when you saw a photo of a familiar-looking man printed on the front page.

Plastered on the front page of the newspaper was a photo of San, and he was wearing your jacket. The cover read: RENOWNED SOUTH KOREAN FASHION DESIGNER CHOI SAN AT LONDON'S FASHION WEEK.

Your jaw dropped in disbelief.

"Hongjoong?" You called out.

Your partner came hurrying over.

"What's wrong? What is it?"

"Look." You showed him the front page.

Hongjoong's eyes widened, his mouth hanging open.

"He's a fashion designer?" He exclaimed in disbelief.

"Apparently so. A renowned fashion designer too."

"I can't believe this. Do you know what that means?" Hongjoong asked.

"We had a popular fashion designer stop by our shop!"

"Exactly! Do you think he told his famous fashion designer friends about us?" He inquired excitedly.

"I don't know. Let's read the article."

South Korean fashion designer Choi San has graced London with his presence, traveling to the bustling city for London Fashion Week. He's been seen around the city wearing some eye-catching outfits that have people talking.

Choi San is known for his uniquely original and out-of-the-box designs. Fans and designers alike are all anticipating what he has in store.

"Wow." You gaped. "I'm speechless."

"Do you think those eye-catching outfits consisted of anything he bought from this store?" Inquired Hongjoong.

"I sure hope so."

You were dying for San to return to the boutique. You wanted so badly to talk to him about the new information you found out.

It was a couple days before he returned.

Those were the longest two days of your life.

One overcast day, he came striding into the boutique, graceful and elegant as ever.

"Hello." He greeted before perusing the items, acting as if he wasn't hiding a huge secret.

"You're a renowned fashion designer?!" You shrieked.

"Of course, doll." He responded, casually as his fingertips trailed over a pair of handmade earrings on display.

"And you didn't say anything?"

"You didn't know?" He asked, raising a brow.

"No. I saw you in the paper the other day."

"Well, I don't fault you for that. I'm fairly new in the fashion scene. A virtuoso, they call me. Can you believe that?" He chuckled. "It's rather flattering."

"I can't believe a famous fashion designer has been visiting our little boutique. I had no idea."

"Don't let it get to you, dear." He chuckled. "My status shouldn't change the relationship between us."

"R-relationship?" You blushed.

"Yes?" He said it like a question. "We're friends, are we not?"

"Yes! Friends. Of course. Yeah." You chuckled nervously.

That was awkward.

Hongjoong emerged from the back room with a newly reformed piece of clothing, a measuring tape draped around his neck.

"Ah! Just the man I wanted to see." He smiled. "What do you think?"

Hongjoong held up a black coat that had been completely redone. It was embellished with silver swirls and had epaulettes added onto the shoulders.

"Wow." San gaped. "I love everything about it. How much?"

Hongjoong gave him the price he was considering for the garment and San immediately bought it.

"I'll probably stop by within the next few days." He told the both of you.

"That's fine. You're welcome any time. Even if we're closed." Hongjoong smiled.

"Good to know." San tossed his shopping bag over his shoulder. "Until next time." He waved, striding out of the shop.

San returned to your store just a few days later, a large bag tossed over his shoulder.

He strode into the boutique, dropping the sack onto the floor. You furrowed your brows at him.

"Well, don't just stand there. Have a look." He gestured.

You opened the bag and began digging through it, gasping as you pulled out multiple pieces of designer clothes.

"What are you doing? This is thousands of dollars worth of your clothing."

"Right. I want you to tear it up."

"I'm sorry?"

"What you do here. Thrifting clothes. Tearing them apart and putting them back together. I'm having a show, that's why I'm here in London. I'd like to do a small showcase during my show."

"So you're talking about a collaboration? Your clothes, our style?" You questioned.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about, love."

"We would love to."

"I'd like to watch you work if you don't mind. I can assist you, of course. I would just need a station with a sewing machine."

"Don't worry. We have an extra in the back." Hongjoong chimed in. "We can definitely work something out."

"Fabulous." San grinned. "Let's get to work, shall we?"

Later that evening when the store closed, the three of you gathered in the back room where all of the sorting and reassembling took place. You and Hongjoong would examine each piece San brought in, making plans and sketches, discussing how you would upcycle it. With each piece came a story from San about how he came up with the idea for the garment. You enjoyed hearing him talk about his thought process, hanging on to every word. You took it as an opportunity to learn a bit from the fashion genius.

After examining each piece of clothing, the three of you got to work. You and Hongjoong would cut up clothes while San laid them out on a table and pieced them together, following the sketches the two of you provided. Naturally, you and your business partner had music playing to help keep everyone motivated. Though, sometimes you'd get distracted, prancing around the room and dancing.

Unbeknownst to you, San was watching and admiring you as you goofed off. To see you so carefree while doing what you love made his heart swell.

A couple hours passed and the three of you had gotten a considerable amount of work done. You cut up about half of the clothes San brought to you and laid them out with pieces of other garments of San's that you'd planned to turn into one piece.

Once you had a few pieces laid out, you and San began to sew them together while Hongjoong continued to disassemble any remaining garments in the bag.

At some point, Hongjoong let out a huff, stretching his back.

"I could use something to eat. Is anyone else hungry?"

"Starving." You responded.

Hongjoong glanced at his watch.

"It's only 7:00 PM. I can go and pick something up."

"Sounds good. San and I can stay here and keep working."

"Perfect. What's everyone in the mood for?"

You and San shared a look before you spoke up.

"Pizza?"

You then looked to San for approval, worried that he would turn the idea down and suggest some lavish meal.

"It's a classic. You can't go wrong with pizza." He responded.

"Great." Hongjoong clasped his hands together. "I'll be back soon."

Your partner left the room, the sound of the front entrance closing behind him following shortly after. You paid no mind to it as you worked, sewing the lower half of a red plaid shirt onto the bottom of a cropped, leather jacket.

"So, Y/n, how long have you been into fashion?" San inquired.

"Since I was a kid. I'd get into my parents' closet and take their clothes." You chuckled. "I remember one time I took my dad's suit jacket and tied one of my mom's scarves around the waist. Then, I got a hold of her red heels and put them on. The outfit was horrendous and I was far too little for any of the clothes, but it was so much fun."

A soft smile made its way onto San's face as he pictured a tiny you prancing around in a large jacket and heels.

"I used to draw pictures of outfits too. Most of the drawings were of dresses. I'm talking pages upon pages."

"Did you ever create any of those drawings?"

"Goodness no." You chuckled. "When I got older and learned how to use a sewing machine, my taste had changed quite a bit."

San listened to you talk about how your love for fashion progressed as well as how you and Hongjoong met and started your business together.

"That's quite a story."

"Yeah, it is." You hummed. "Not everyone is lucky enough to have their plans work out like mine and Hongjoong's."

"I'd say you're both very lucky."

Valentino, who had been napping walked up to you, resting his head in your lap. You stopped what you were doing to give him a few soft pets accompanied by ear scratches. His tail wagged happily in response. When you stopped, he lifted his paw, placing it on the side of your thigh as a way to tell you to keep going.

"Alright." You chuckled. "But only for a little while. Mama's got work to do."

San watched you with adoration, his heart thumping heavily in his chest.

"How did you get Valentino?" He asked.

"I actually found him roaming the streets. I was headed here when I spotted him. I felt so bad. He was only a little guy at the time. I brought him into the store and gave him part of the sandwich I packed for lunch. Hongjoong was surprised to see me come in with a dog, but he didn't mind. I decided that day that I would keep him." You gave the Dalmatian a fond look as you stroked his ears. "While I was working, he wandered in the back room. I later found him sleeping on a Valentino shirt Hongjoong thrifted. That's how I decided to name him."

"He's lucky to have you." San smiled.

"I think I'm the lucky one."

It wasn't long before Hongjoong returned with a couple pizzas and some drinks. The three of you took a twenty minute break to eat and rest before getting back to work. When midnight rolled around, you decided to call it a night. The three of you agreeing to close up shop and head home, promising to pick up again the next day.

You continued to meet up for a week, working tirelessly on the clothes. San and Hongjoong stayed in the back room sewing while you worked the store. When you weren't running the boutique, you were in the back helping San, switching out with Hongjoong.

It took two weeks for every piece to be completed. Once finished, each item of clothing was placed on a hanger and put in a garment bag, provided by San, then put inside a van.

"Thank you so much, darling." San beamed, flashing a bright smile accompanied by the most charming dimples. "The two of you have done marvelous work."

"It was an honor." You told him.

"It really was. To work with someone like you has been such an awesome experience." Hongjoong agreed.

"It's been wonderful working with the both of you." San approached Hongjoong, giving him a brief cheek-to-cheek air kiss.

He then moved over, doing the same to you, except he actually kissed your cheeks.

"I'll see you around." He smirked, giving you a wink before hopping into the van and driving off.

You stood with your mouth open, your cheeks burning from San's sudden kisses.

"He just..." You trailed off, your hands cupping your burning cheeks.

Hongjoong stood off to the side, unable to hold back giggles as he watched you in your flustered state, having witnessed the exchange.

"Y/n! The paper's here!" Hongjoong called. "And San is on the cover again!"

You rushed out of the back room, excitedly.

"Let's see what it says."

Hongjoong laid the paper out on the counter so the both of you could read it. The front page was plastered with photos of San wearing clothes that he bought from the boutique. Your eyes traveled from the photos to the article as you began to read it.

Choi San is set to have a fashion show this weekend where he will showcase his most recent designs. The fashion genius has been spotted walking the streets of London wearing an incredible ensemble from his new fashion line. Critics have been raving over the pieces he's been seen wearing around the city. When asked for any clues about his upcoming line, this was his response.

"Well, I can't reveal much about my designs, but the theme for the show will be 'The Next Generation of Fashion'. So stay tuned, darlings." The designer said.

"What?" You frowned. "His designs?"

"That can't be right." Hongjoong murmured.

His eyes scanned over the article, a frown on his face.

"He didn't say that, did he?"

"It says it right there, plain as day." You pointed. "I can't reveal much about my designs. Not only that, but it says he's been wearing his designs around the city. The clothes he's wearing in the photos is our stuff from the shop."

Hongjoong shook his head in response, unable to believe that San would do that.

"I have to talk with him." You murmured.

"It looks like you'll get your chance."

The door swung open and in walked Choi San, happy as ever.

"Hello, loves." He greeted, striding towards the register.

Hongjoong, who knew what was going to happen, quickly made himself scarce.

Your jaw clenched as he approached you with an arrogant grin that you wanted so badly to slap off his face. You snatched up the newspaper and slammed it onto the counter.

"Care to explain?"

The designer's brows furrowed as he looked down at the front page. "I don't understand."

"The article, San. You totally took credit for mine and Hongjoong's work."

"No, I didn't."

"It says so right here." You pointed.

He leaned down to get a better look at the paper.

"I can't believe I thought you wanted to work with me." You scoffed, shaking your head. "Just go."

San merely turned around and left the boutique without another word.

A huff left you as you spun around, storming into the back room.

"What happened?" Hongjoong inquired.

"I told him to leave."

"He didn't say anything?"

"No."

Valentino trotted in a few moments later with an envelope in his mouth.

"What's that?" Asked Hongjoong.

"I don't know. He already got the mail."

You took the lavish, cream-colored envelope from him, opening it up.

Inside was a card with two tickets to the fashion show. The card had a short note written in neat handwriting:

You've worked hard. Enjoy the show.

- San

"It's tickets to San's fashion show." You scoffed.

"He sent us tickets?" Hongjoong rushed over, peering over your shoulder.

"I guess that's what he came here to do." You assumed.

"Y/n, you need to go." He told you.

"What? No. There's no way. Not after what he did to us."

"I know you're upset that he used us, but I want to go to the show, you should too. The least we can do is show up and see our designs on the runway."

To your disappointment, he had a point. It would be nice to be able to see the clothes you and Hongjoong worked so hard to create.

You walked into the event, loud music blaring throughout the large room. You felt like your whole body was trembling. You didn't want to be there.

"You look great." Hongjoong assured you.

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"It'll be fine, Y/n. Despite what he did, I think he wanted us to be here."

"I can't understand why."

The two of you made your way to a row of seats. Hongjoong stopped suddenly, nudging you.

"Look." He pointed to the first row of seats, each one with a card on them. There were two chairs beside each other, one had a card with Hongjoong's name on it, the other with yours. You were a bit surprised to see that you had reserved seats, especially after what happened just a few days prior.

"C'mon." Hongjoong beckoned you over to your chairs.

After sitting down, you held the name card in your hand, flipping it back and forth. On the cardstock was your name printed in beautiful gold letters, a decorative box framing the print.

The show began shortly after, rock music playing through the speakers in the building as the lights started to dim. A silence settled over the room as everyone focused on the bright catwalk. A voice came over the speakers, kicking off the show.

"Welcome to the next generation of fashion."

Models began striding down the runway, each one donning an outfit you had never seen. You knew immediately that these were San's designs. Though you want very happy with him at the moment you had to admit, his designs were impeccable—they were nothing like you'd ever seen before. It was hard not to be impressed by his incredible work. He truly was a virtuoso.

Halfway through the show, that same voice came over the speakers once again.

"And now, for a special showcase."

Your eyes widened in awe as you watched the models strut down the catwalk wearing designs that you and Hongjoong created. It was like a dream come true. You just wished the circumstances were better. Though your situation wasn't the greatest, you didn't let that put a damper on your excitement.

The both of you watched with awestruck expressions as the models sashayed down the runway, showing off the upcycled pieces of San's previous fashion lines. The models looked incredible, as did their hair and makeup. Every single one had a different look and managed to match the vibe of each ensemble.

"Wow." You gaped.

"Yeah." Hongjoong nodded, his wide eyes staring unblinking at the models.

The last few models made their way off stage, signaling the end of the showcase. You knew what would happen next.

Your chest tightened when San walked up on stage. The crowd clapped and cheered as he made his way to the front of the catwalk.

His black and white hair was pushed away from his face in a messy, yet tidy way that perfectly suited him. His ensemble consisted of a white dress shirt that was unbuttoned halfway, showing off a silver body chain. The shirt was tucked into a pair of black, high-waisted trousers with two rows of buttons on the front and a chain dangling from the waist. He had on a large, spotted fur coat that resembled a Dalmatian, and bold, red gloves with many silver rings on top. The coat was long and swayed behind him as he stepped forward.

"Good evening, everyone." He greeted, scanning the crowd.

You unconsciously pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, afraid of being noticed.

"I hope you all enjoyed the show. First of all, I want to thank every single one of you for coming tonight. I appreciate your support dearly."

The crowd clapped in response.

"The showcase you all just watched was extra special. You might have noticed some familiar elements in each outfit, those elements being my old designs. Each one has gotten a new life, being turned into something different." He explained.

There were a few oohs from the crowd.

"I can't take all the credit for the end result you all saw moments ago. Yes, these may be my clothes, but they were truly brought to life by the amazing people who run a small boutique in town and I have to give all the credit to them. I was only a small part of this." He admitted. "Contrary to what the papers have been saying, all the fashion I've been wearing during my time here has been created by them. The pieces I wore were purchased at their boutique, it was not me giving anyone a sneak peek at what would be showcased tonight. You should all know, I hate giving spoilers."

Your lips pressed together as you felt shame and embarrassment flood your entire body.

"Now, I would like to introduce you all to the two incredibly talented fashionistas who re-created the stunning looks you just saw. Hongjoong and Y/n, will you come up here?" San turned right towards the both of you, your cheeks being set aflame.

Hongjoong nudged you as he stood up, heading onto the catwalk with you nervously following behind.

"Everyone please give these two a rousing applause!"

The whole room erupted in claps and cheers for you and Hongjoong. You were overwhelmed. You got to see your designs displayed on the runway and you were receiving a literal standing ovation from a room full of fashion designers and other luminaries. To top it all off, San was being genuine the entire time. Of course, you totally made a fool out of yourself and snapped at him without bothering to hear him out, and for that you needed to apologize.

San thanked everyone and gave a shoutout to yours and Hongjoong's boutique before closing out the show.

"There's going to be an after party in the next room, so please feel free to stay and hang out."

And with that, the show was over and the after party began. Everyone started getting up from their seats, making their way to the next room as you, San, and Hongjoong exited the catwalk, going backstage.

"Thank you, San. The showcase was incredible." Hongjoong told him.

"I should be thanking you. Tonight was a success and that's because of you two."

You smiled a little, guilt weighing on your heart.

"Well, I believe you two need some time alone, so I'm going to the after party. I'll see you later." Hongjoong quickly excused himself, allowing you and San some privacy.

"San, I'm so terribly sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I was really hateful to you that day." You apologized immediately.

"It's alright." He shook his head with a soft smile. "Don't worry yourself."

"I didn't know the tabloids messed up"

"Well, they did. I read the paper when I got home that day and found that they misquoted me. I never said my designs. I said the designs. They also jumped to conclusions big time and assumed the pieces from your store were my designs. I'd say I can't believe they did that, but honestly, that's how they are." He rolled his eyes. "Magazines, newspapers, websites. They're practically known for mincing people's words. How embarrassing."

"My apology still stands. I should have let you explain."

"I told you not to worry." San brought a gloved finger up under your chin, lifting your face to look at him. "You don't have to apologize."

"Alright." You sighed.

He dropped his hand, giving you a warm smile.

"So, what did you think about the show? Honestly."

"It was incredible. I was blown away by your designs and the ones Hongjoong and I worked on looked great too. It was honestly a dream come true. And that was nice of you to give our shop a shoutout at the end."

"You both deserve it." He smiled softly.

"Your outfit tonight is incredible. I especially love the coat."

"Thank you, doll. It's a tribute."

"A tribute?"

"To you. It reminded me of your dear Valentino so I wanted to wear it tonight."

You didn't hold back the flattered grin that spread across your features.

He did that for you?

"Now, let's talk about this ensemble you have on. You look absolutely divine." He told you.

Your eyes widened. "You think so?"

"I know so. Let me have a look at this." He glanced at your outfit, stepping back and allowing you to show him the full look.

You chose a flattering, yet chic ensemble; a bit edgy like what you and Hongjoong reform, but classy enough for a fashion show.

"Oh my." San gasped. "My dear Y/n, you are absolutely stunning."

You tried to stay cool, but San's compliments were getting to you, making your whole body feel like it was going to collapse.

"Love, can I tell you something?" He suddenly asked, his hand reaching for yours.

You allowed him to take it as he pulled you closer.

"Yes. Of course."

"You've captivated me, my dear Y/n. I treasure that night we shared in the back room of your shop. I enjoyed learning more about you and your love for fashion."

That brought a smile to your face.

"I enjoyed that night too, and every night after that when we worked on clothes."

"I'm glad the feeling is mutual." He smiled, his thumb running over the top of your hand.

You could tell there was something he wasn't saying or something he wanted to say, rather.

"We made a great team. Perhaps we should make this duo permanent."

"What are you trying to say?" You inquired.

"I'm saying, I want you to be my girlfriend."

You tried to hold back your smile as you looked at him.

"What if I don't feel the same?" You asked.

"Darling, I know when people are staring at me."

"What?"

"I saw you gawking at me all those times I came into your boutique."

"Oh." You became flustered. "So you noticed."

"Don't be embarrassed, darling. I quite liked it. Attention from the public is nice, but attention from you is even better."

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, your heart racing.

"So, what do you say? You want to make this official?"

"Yes, please."

San was unable to contain himself as a glowing grin spread across his face, his dimples making an appearance. His hand let go of yours, moving to rest against your waist, tugging your body closer. You knew what he was getting around to and you were more than okay with it. His gloved hand cupped your cheek as his sharp, half-lidded eyes darkened slightly, his face inching closer to yours.

"Just kiss me already." You urged, desperate to feel his lips.

"What's the magic word?" He whispered.

Unable to wait any longer, you grabbed the body chain that hung over his chest, using it to pull him to you, your lips crashing against his. The unexpected action caught San off guard, but he didn't mind. In fact, he thought that was very attractive.

His hand immediately moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer so he could deepen the kiss.

"A girl who knows what she wants. I like that." He smirked against your mouth before capturing your lips fully with his own. You clung to him desperately, your hands clenching the fabric of his shirt as your head tilted slightly, wanting to feel closer to San.

A hum of satisfaction from San vibrated against your lips, sending a rush of butterflies through your stomach. His hand that was resting on your waist made its way to the small of your back, holding you firmly against him.

As much as you hated to, you pulled away in need of air. San stared down at you with flushed cheeks and swollen lips, his eyes droopy. His hair had become slightly out of place, a few extra strands hanging over his forehead. You casually brought your hand up to his uniquely-colored hair, gently running your hand over it, careful not to mess it up.

"I've always been fascinated with your hair." You admitted.

"Really?"

You hummed with a nod.

"I used to color it when I was a kid. I felt that I stood out too much."

"You know, sometimes standing out is a good thing."

He smiled, cupping your cheek. "That's exactly right, my dear."

The designer placed one last kiss to your lips before escorting you back out to the main room.

"Now, what do you say we go to that after party?"

"Sounds good." You nodded.

Hongjoong: Hades ⟡ Seonghwa: Maleficent ⟡ Yunho: Captain Hook ⟡ Yeosang: Evil Queen ⟡ Mingi: Dr. Facilier ⟡ Wooyoung: Hyena ⟡ Jongho: Gaston

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