#which leaves him rightly a fucking mess and that was not a good look for her

[these-are-the-first-steps]

Ok so like.....*sigh*

So like in the show he basically asks her to marry him and she says yes, and they're both like "Promise? Promise!" but she keeps fucking conveniently remembering and forgetting "the promise to mother" like I know he's intoxicating af and it's hard to hold a thought around this man (I also have a very hard time holding a thought looking at him), but pick a goddamn side and have a backbone about it ffs!! Like you can't waffle on people like this girl!! You literally sat here and engaged yourself to this man and then you go off and do THAT???

I would like to note that so far in the (very drastically different) novel, there is no such promise ever made, and she fucks off to the steppe because she's mad at Ning Yi thinking the whole entire time he had just been cozying up as part of a plot to kill her so leaving bought her time, space, and a power base to fight back and he just eats the misunderstanding like "????? fine, come and kill me when you're ready, at least I'll get to see you again, I am ok with this." which makes a bit more sense tbh.

In a loooot a lot of ways, the tv show is about 1000x more polished than the book, but at least the book has fewer slaps in the face like this. They become a bit more obvious on rewatch, especially after pawing through the novel. (I hope the translator finishes it someday!! They picked it up again this past may after two years of nothing so here's hoping!)

[esha-isboogara]

thanks fr the mmrs

i want to write more kento stuff but i have zero ideas :( it’s a curse tbh he’s literally the loml but it’s impossible for me to write for him. anyways enjoy this hot mess <3

✰dark content, non consensual somnophilia, he’s a jealous perv, me simping for him

kento is well aware how much gojo loves you. the man makes sure to mention it at least one hundred something times a day. “i’ve never met a girl like her..i just love her so much” he’d tell him while they walked throughout the campus. or he’d bring up a cutesy little story while getting drinks. it was clear satarou gojo was in l-o-v-e

externally nanami nodded, trying to seem happy for his coworkers good fortune. telling him how happy he was that he had found such a lovely partner and expressing his excitement for their upcoming engagement. but inside he was being eaten alive by jealousy.

nanami had met you first. he had loved you first. you were supposed to be all his. if only he hadn’t introduced you to gojo. you’d be his pretty little girlfriend who he could proudly brag about to all his coworkers and friends. regret was slowly gnawing through his heart.

and that’s how he found himself in your room, standing above you as your slept peacefully on your twin sized bed. you looked so cute all cuddled up under your blankets, snuggling up against a stuffie which by the looks of it you’d had for years. he couldn’t understand how gojo could leave such an adorable thing alone so often.

if he was your partner he’d take you with him on every trip, treating you like the royalty you were.

nanami sighed as he continued to gaze down at you. god, you looked angelic being bathed in the light of the moon. like an angel that fell from the heavens itself.

carefully he climbed into bed with you, his breath catching in his throat as you nestled against his chest.

“toru? is that you”? you asked sleepily, not bothering to open your eyes.

nanami knew if he spoke he’d be screwed. you’d see him as some kind of sick pervert, rightly so, and never speak to him again. instead he answered with a simple “mhm”

you mumbled something incoherently before drifting back into your slumber.

oh god you were just so cute. he was trying his best to control his more..perverse urges but he was failing.

fuck. he knew how wrong this was- how terrible he was for doing this in the first place. but what kind of man would he be if he left you unattended and needy for a man’s touch.

his fingers crept beteen your thoughts eating a small gasp from you but nothing more. as he moved them higher it was clear how wet you had become.

nanami couldn’t help but feel another twinge of jealousy with a hint of annoyance. gojo got to experience this as often as he wanted and yet he was too busy with his “work” to indulge himself with this amazing feeling. he’d never understand how that man could be so stupid.

you were just so ready for him, his index finger slid through your slick folds with ease. it was almost as if his body was molded to give you pleasure. he was careful to keep his pace slow and methodical. there was a chance he’d never be able to experience this bliss ever again in his lifetime. it was imperative that he took his time to bask in your glory.

quiet whines fell from your lips as he continued his movements. nanami couldn’t help but feel as if he died and went to heaven.

it didn’t take much longer for your climax to approach. he felt your walls clench around his fingers as you groaned in pure pleasure.

“mmm satoru. i love you so much”.

he knew he should feel bad, he should feel guilty for what he’s done. but he didn’t m. in fact he felt the best he had in weeks. he’s definitely going to pay you a few more visits before your boyfriend returns.

[therealslimsanji]

I'm ngl, everytime I see like hate towards Taz over this it's like there's a new thing to be like upset about because the behaviour is just so bad that it really doesn't feel like good faith arguments.

I'll also be upfront, I'm very arab and am a quarter Palestinian so it's not like I don't have any say in this, even if thankfully my family aren't near the genocide that is happening they are still very affected by this.

Like people being against the 'neutrality' of the red Cross have to understand that this is the same neutrality that doctors and surgeons have to have when it comes to aiding people. It's the kind of neutrality that is not about avoiding doing anything which is the real problem but the neutrality of "do no harm" which is a needed ethical point that needs to be with anyone who has a person's life in their hands. If people are worried that sending money to the British Red Cross might mean that the money goes to British Tax then that's just not the case as they are a charity and that means all the money that goes into the charity must go to whatever aid the charity is about with none of it going to taxes.

I just feel like the people who (rightly) get pissed about any doctor that doesn't help a trans or queer person because of the doctor's "religious beliefs" are missing the main point of why this shit is horrendous, because it is one person who has someone's life in their hands choosing who lives or dies instead of just trying to do the job of preventing death.

And the British Red Cross only brings aid to civilians, people who are just living in these places, and Israeli civilians are still people with lives, whether they support their government or not or anything, they still have families and the death of those families can be kindling of the corrupt and is the suffering of the living, regardless of whether it is an Israeli family or a Palestinian family (it's even this point that is making me post this anonymously because I saw how people questioned Taz's heritage and I've had people dismiss my nationality because of how much I try to stay anonymous (my parents are queerphobic and I am currently engaged to my girlfriend of 4 years and of course I don't want my parents knowing that))

And I've brought up like people making this point that he wanted to distance himself from his arab half because he goes by Taz Skylar instead of Tarek Yassin and like ??? The man has been upfront about being dyslexic and tarek, and Yassin has multiple phonetic spellings that would mess with writing it??? Like legit, Taz Skylar is probably the easiest thing to write and read if you're dyslexic.

And then the way people acted over him, deleting tweets and shit like yes, he is an adult, but he's also an adult that has mental issues and had been upfront about that??? Like, I'm just glad that he eventually just stuck to the point and clarified some things as well in his Instagram post. (Like the fact that he brings up that he also wanted to help the refugees that come up to tenerife kinda shows that he had other things in mind and probably just didn't think that would translate to taking any position on the genocide and when people mistook that he had to clarify he just doesn't want innocent people hurt)

Ngl I might just send some anon messages once in a while just being like "AND ANOTHER THING" but atm it is also too early so for now imma leave these points and just try to get on with my day because OOF

Thank you for this! Because I've argued with peoplen who say "you can't be neutral in a genocide" with "yes, actually, you can because it doesn't mean you're INDIFFERENT. And in the case of thr RC, neutrality saves the lives of INNOCENT parties on both sides." But they just don't wanna hear it. I guess because it makes too much sense? Idk.

And the issue with his name is stupid as FUCK. I'm half Sicilian. In the 40s-60s, MANY singers and actors would change their ethnic looking/sounding Italian surnames to more "American" ones. People changing their names and/or shortening them is NOTHING new, and even white Americans have done the same thing in Hollywood. Let's be honest, he probably went with Taz Skylar because 1) Taz sounds like a possible nickname given to him when he was a kid and he just stuck with it because he liked it and 2) going into the acting business with an Arab name? Guess what roles he's gonna get stereotyped with. Especially if/when he becomes bigger over here in America. It has zero to do with "distancing himself." He's done nothing that other famous folk haven't been doing for DECADES.

You can send as many ANONS as you wish. Honestly, this is my first time ever getting Anon asks, and it's been fun 😄.

[socheckitout-mikey]

OMG HI HI!! i not sure if you still write for the outsiders but I was wondering if you could do hc for going to a carnival/fair with the boys individually (like you're their s/o)

heya hun, yeah i still do! you can find out what fandoms i write for in my navi! ^-^ tysm for requesting this, it was a cute idea and y'know i always love writing for the outsiders! i hope that you enjoy what i came up with and sorry it took me a million years to write! - mae

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Carnival/Fair Dates With The Curtis Gang and Shepard Brothers Hc's:

Curly Shepard:

° In typical Curly fashion, he's getting up to no good, which doesn't change even when you're dating him. His number one priority is to show off to you in order to get a reaction – preferably a laugh. He's such a dork dfnsdjkfdsj! Sometimes you've just got to cringe during the storm instead, but it's okay, the rest of Tulsa is too lmaoo.

° He definitely cheated when the carny was temporarily distracted by some wise ass kid (another one his gang members), which resulted in him rigging the game in his favour to win you that plushie you so desperately wanted for ages now! Hey, you weren't too bothered – the man who ran the game was a damned cheapskate anyway. Sometimes it is better to fight fire with fire.

° Deadass wolfs down so much food with you that both of your stomachs hurt like utter hell for the next few hours. To say that y'all are immobile, lying in the back of Tim's car on the ride home with the window rolled down looking green is an understatement. However, it was all worth it for those mini corn dogs and donuts!!!

° You do blame each other for influencing the other until Tim goes, "I don't give a flyin' fuck who influenced who, just don't yack in my car, or else."

° Ngl he's a little prick because when you both sat on the top of the Ferris Wheel, he "violently" shook the stall you were in to freak you out just a little. He took the smack on his chest like a champ before pressing a sloppy kiss to your forehead. He steadied the stall.

° "I'm only screwin' with ya..." He grinned softly against your temple. He really was soft and made it up to you for scaring you so much.

° As payback you made him go on the massive roller coaster. He genuinely wasn't hyped for it, but he was acting like it wasn't a big deal at all. Holy crap was he relieved to be back on solid ground after it was over. Boii even kissed the dusty tarmac when he thought nobody was looking. Poor guy turned green, but he lowkey cussed you out under his breath bfddjdjfdsfdjd.

Dallas Winston:

° Is it much of a surprise that he's also not up to any good, as per usual? There are prominent ways for him to get into all sorts of trouble, and he does it openly as well. He's not afraid, but he's also making sure it's not so much of a hindrance so you can enjoy yourself too. Believe it or not, but he has these mindful moments. He likes to mess around and see where the chips lie – bonus points if you're up for causing a little bit of trouble with him!

° Expect to have the funnest time with his hand slid into your back pocket and amping up the flirting. Man, is he a showoff when he's up to have a go at all of the stalls. Some he wins and others he loses, but if he's cheating, he's sneaky about it. It kinda makes you laugh at this point ngl.

° "Whatcha laughin' at, chicken shit?" He grins at you as you clutch your freshly won teddy bear. "You! Hey, I thought I told you to stop callin' me that?!" You gripe back at him. "Call you what?" He teases you, pressing a kiss to your lips.

° Dallas genuinely took the water gun he had and sprayed you with it instead of the bulls eye. Man were you mad as hell at him, and rightly so! "I got good aim, sweet cheeks. For ten bucks, I'll let you squirt me." He winks. "I'm leaving..." Bc ew cringe Dally! "Awe, don't be like that, sugar!"

° His favourite pastime? Scaring the shit out of all the little kids for the hell of it. He's literally such an ass, but you love him anyway. That kid who tried stealing dough outta your purse had it coming for him anyway hdfhjjdhj.

° Dally's deffo tried to do things a bit legally just for your benefit – as mentioned above. Hey, he only cut the line ten times this trip! "You snooze, you lose, man!" (Insert the most obnoxious eye roll ever from you dfhsjfhfhfhfdhjn) "It's for cotton candy, babe!" Never mess with Dallas Winston and his damn cotton candy, lemme tell you that!

° Deadass punched a guy for saying something nasty about you. Lmaoo y'all got kicked out, but not before he snuck you both back in! It was warranted for Dallas to do the right thing. If you both get chucked out again, he'll just take you out into town. It's quieter that way and hey! You guys have a whole diner to yourselves. "Don't even think about it, Dal!"

Darry Curtis:

° Okay y'all, these are a rare occurrence, but boy does Darry take this opportunity when he gets a shot! Darry being off in the summer? Unheard of! But somehow fate has aligned in the stars and you've been blessed with an opportunity! It may be one day, but it's so much fun. It brings him back to his highschool days. He's beaming! It's just so wholesome, man.

° Darry played football in high school so you know his aim is literally no joke. Watch him bust every rigged game with flying colours, because he's smart. You're going home with a carnival haul! And you know what? None of the carny's can be mad at you, because when they see how much of a gentleman Darry is to you, and how your eyes glitter when you look up at him, their hearts melt! You guys are literally the cutest!

° He definitely tries to avoid going on all the rides, because and I quote, "That looks more rickety than the scaffolding I was on yesterday. Ain't no way in hell I'm goin' on that thing, and neither are you. We ain't even got medical insurance to cover it!" Y'know, old man stuff!

° But he does eventually go on it after all of your incessant begging. He's a grumpy old man as he boards onto it. The rides aren't his favourite, but he endures them – they're more Soda's shtick! He goes along with it because he loves you.

° But the food? He loves it! With all of his, "Let's be mindful about money," shtick, he kind of bends the rules a little bit and indulges some. He's more focused on getting more grub into you than into him though, because he likes to treat you though. He doesn't have a whole bank's worth of money to spend, but he makes it work. He's happy when you offer him half of what you have, despite trying to decline a thousand times. This is why he loves you.

° "I think you're really beautiful when you smile." You grin up at him as you rest your head on his shoulder.

° "I think you must've hit your head." He laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. (AAAAHHHH I CAN'T!! Y'ALL ARE SO CUTE!!!!)

Johnny Cade:

° Man, do his eyes light up like the sun at the prospect of going to the fair/carnival. Thanks so much for asking him to come along! There’s so much to do and explore, it’s a little overwhelming. He’s a little timid at first, but once he gets going on the different rides and games, Johnny is grinning like a chessy cat, from ear to ear.

° He isn’t the best at games, but hey, that’s okay because y’all laugh at the fact he completely missed the ring from the duck so badly that it looped around a Soc’s hand.

° “Man, I got the aim of a cat brawlin’ in the alleys!” He admits with a blush coating his tanned cheeks.

° His least favourite ride is the haunted house, because he spooks too easily. He can hide it, but when things pop out at him, it spikes up his anxiety. Poor baby! However, his favourite ride is the spinning tea cups. He’s relatively gentle, but do not make the mistake of going in one with him, Dally, Steve, Soda and Two-bit: You will be hanging on for dear life and barf. It’ll be all your fault for trusting them too lmaoo.

° Total bonus points if there is a rodeo at the same time. Johnny is crazy about them. He loves seeing all of the animals and action going on. He’s a little bit bouncy as he holds your hand. It’s very wholesome, and honestly, you’re probably bouncing with excitement beside him just as much.

° Johnny will treat you with cotton candy or something else you wanted to eat. It’s not much, but with all the gang giving him money here and there, he’s got more than he’s used to. So he doesn’t know what to do with it other than spend it on as much food as you can both stomach lmaoo.

° He’s a true gentleman and walks you home after all is said and done. He hangs about on your front porch, fidgeting a bit until he goes, “Thanks for spendin’ the day with me. It’s honestly been the best I’ve had in awhile…” and your response? A kiss on his lips before you wish him a safe walk home. To say he’s frozen on the spot for a solid ten minutes blushing like crazy is an understatement! Once he comes to, he’s grinning all big as he walks off of your porch. He’s so grateful to be dating you.

Ponyboy Curtis:

° Ya’ll can’t tell me that Ponyboy doesn’t watch the sunset with you on the top of the Ferris Wheel. It’s cliche, but I don’t give a crap. It’s cute and it happens. I’m willing to fight anyone on this! Just imagine his precious head leaning against your shoulder, both of you bathed in a spectacle of sunset colours. (I CAN’T IT’S TOO CUTE-)

° He’s a little shit™️ and goofs off with you because although he’s sweet, he’s not a saint. Expect lots of laughter together as you explore the entire place. You tend to bring Ponyboy out of his shell, and you know the gang catches you two trying to sneak into the circus tent to get into the show for free!

° Y’know what? You win him something at the bean bag stall. He’s a track star, but you’re the one with the better aim – even though his isn’t half bad. He’s a little abashed as he holds the duck plushie in his hand. He’s adamant when he gets home that it’s yours, that you just left it at his house. But it never moves and he gets teased for it.

° Ashfujdshjds he loses you 20 minutes in and pretty much has a panic attack but eventually finds you challenging Steve to an arm wrestling contest behind the bleachers.

° “I thought you got eaten by a lion! This whole time I’m panickin’ I lost you and you were there with dumbass Steve.”

° “Well someone’s both mouthy and has an overactive imagination! If it helps any, I totally kicked Steve’s ass!”

° He tripped way too many times to count, and each time you laughed. That is until you walked into a pole, which was flat out hilarious. You have a wounded ego, but Ponyboy’s is elated! “Man, that’s- I can’t believe you-,” He gasps between fits of laughter as he clutches his stomach. “Oh bite me, Curtis!”

Sodapop Curtis:

° You’re dating the poster child for hyperactivity. Maaaaaaan good fucking luck having a moment to sit still. Rip to your legs man! Steve basically has to drag you along like a soldier at war because you gave up on walking long ago. He begs Soda to let you sit for at least five minutes fgjgjfkdgjd.

° But in all seriousness, Sodapop is making sure to be considerate of you. He’s just sooo excited!!! There’s sm to see and do, and you bet your ass he’s doing back flips just to show off because mans is a spider monkey, lmaoo.

° Overall it’s such a cute and thoughtful day/night. Although there’s some stuff planned out, Sodapop is also winging things, because he’s a spontaneous king! So expect lots of flirting and some romance, because although he doesn’t have much, he’s giving you his world! Awwww so cheesy gjdfjffjd.

° If you love stuffed animals, then you’ll be buried in a mountain of them by the time you get home! If you don’t, too bad! At least you got free stuff. (Yes, Darry did end up getting mad at him for spending his wages on the carnival but yee yee I guess!)

° You guys go on all of the rides. Though he isn’t the type to push you to go on any ones you’re adamant not going on – like if you’re deadly afraid of heights. He either won’t go on and keeps you company on the ground, or he’ll come right back once the ride’s finished. He’s vvv supportive, softening out any of your anxieties or worries by making you laugh and feel loved <333 He’s proud if you do decide to face your fears though!

° At the end of the day when you guys are out of breath and a little tired, you’ll be sitting in the cab of Darry’s Ford pickup truck. There’s the sounds of crickets chirping and it’s cooled off some due to nighttime casting across Tulsa. You’re both sleepily smiling, Soda’s palm flat against your knee. It’s quiet as Elvis plays softly in the background: Sodapop knows when it’s time to let the chill vibes commence. “Thanks for takin’ me along.” You murmur all dopey up at him. He’s enamoured by your cuteness.

° “No worries, baby. Did you have fun?” He grins back at you. All you can do is muster a nod before slipping into a deep sleep. He laughs softly, “I ain’t carryin’ you inside your house.” But he does.

Steve Randle:

° You can’t handle the Randle sfudfhdujdhjd (I will never stop saying this, guys). But on a serious note, Steve loves going to fairs and carnivals, because similar to his best buddy, Sodapop, there’s so much to do! He’s spontaneous and likes to show off how strong he is, so expect him to show anyone up at the bell tower. He’s strong as hell and enjoys the little crowd developed around y’all. He seems to win most of the time!

° Steve is rather thoughtful and romantic. He thought out the entire date, and you’re probably on a double date with Sandy and Sodapop. It’s very cute, and Steve is always silently checking in with you when everyone else isn’t paying attention. “You good, doll?”

° At night time, when it gets cold, you bet your ass he gives you his jacket to wear. Even if it’s heading over into autumn, the last slivers of summer mourned: He doesn’t care. It’s the right thing to do and he’s so soft for you fdjfjd. He even drives you home and walks you to your porch. Man, he’s so crazy about you, and he doesn’t stop flirting until the very end.

° “You know, you’re kinda sweet?” You hum against his lips, the tips of your noses brushing together.

° He breathes a little chuckle, “Who said anythin’ about bein’ sweet?” Before diving in for that mind blowing kiss!

° Steve doesn’t really have much of a favourite ride: He’s up for anything – especially if it’s fast and takes a lot of sharp or sudden turns/drops. He likes the swing rides, grinning widely because he feels as free as a bird. Your exhilarated expression only makes him happier.

° Y’all are beat by the end of the day. It was such a fun time, though!!

Tim Shepard:

° Saddle up bucko, because this is one wild ride! Going to a carnival or the fair with Tim is a lot of fun – if you’re looking to cause a decent amount of trouble. He likes to goad you a little, to see how far he can push you and loves when you snap back at him a little sassy, “Alright tiger! Easy does it. Don’t wanna get ahead of ourselves.”

° Tim will have his arm draped over you in some fashion: Always has to have that contact. It’s how he flirts with you. He’s like a calm, cool and dangerous panther slinking through the fair – all eyes of the carny’s on him like hawks, “Sheesh! You’d think they’d know how to make things more welcoming. I an cut the tension with my switch.”

° It takes a bit of prodding, but eventually you convince him to ditch “looking cool” in favour of having fun. He’s relaxed, and he may even win some prizes at some of the games – as long as a carny doesn’t get wise with him. Tim doesn’t fare well with being told what to do. But he keeps himself cool, will get payback later when you’re not around to witness it lmaoo.

° Much like Curly, Tim will do something just to frighten you a little. It’s really so you come sit in his lap or hold onto him. There’s that wild look in his eyes, a mischievous simper donning his features, “Don’t even fuckin’ think about it!” You warn with a pointed finger.

° “S’that supposed to fend me off, tuts?” He says, backing you up slowly against a wall.

° A chase will ensue and Tim always wins. His prize? Throwing you over his shoulder and slapping you ass like a champ, lmaooo!

° Everything is spontaneous, but Tim tends to be more relaxed when you’re around. You wanna grab a bite to eat at The Dingo after? Sweet, let's do it! But you’re buying since it was your idea fjdjdfjkfjdjffdj.

Two-bit Matthews:

° Oh, pray to whatever God exists, because this will be eventful! Two-bit is a social butterfly, so not only is he chatting to you, but making others laugh in the process. He’s also extremely slick so he’s buttering up unsuspecting stall managers for good deals, but they know him by now. They aren’t fooled.

° Can’t go to the carnival or fair without Two-bit stealing something and plonking it right into your hands a ways away. “How did you-. Babe, take this back!”

° “Is that an order, officer? I say, if you handcuff me in the backseat of your car, I might just do what you say.” He grins all funny into your ear. “What am I gonna do with ya?” You inquire with a laugh. “Beats me. You’re the one with the stolen goods. I didn’t do zilch. Hey Officer!” He calls over the heads of the crowd, only for you to grab his hand and yank him down a small opening. “Shut the fuck up, Keith! That ain’t funny.” But Two is already rolling around on the ground laughing.

° He probably takes you into the House of Mirrors, and you guys just spend most of your time either hiding from and scaring each other, or doing that to other people. Two-bit loves the mirrors where you stand a certain way and it makes you super small and wide or tall and skinny. He pulls the dumbest faces in the glass. He's so easily amused (and so are you).

° Yes, he did walk into a mirror and almost knock himself out cold. Call in the cavalry, a.k.a. The gang: We got a man down! fuijdkfhjsdfbjdfdfkj

° You spent the next eight hours in the ER waiting to get his nose set because he broke it. “Talk about a knockout…” You mumble halfway through a yawn.

° “Aw shoot! This ain’t shit. Y'should’ve seen me in a dance off with Steve three years back. Now that guy can kick like a donkey!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

please like, reblog and follow for more!

requests: closed!

[tommyspeakycap]

Hi love, I adore your writing so much! And as you just asked for some ideas/concepts here’s mine for Jack Grealish from prompts list 2: fluff #11 where he’s asking her (she’s his best friend) to go for a walk cause there’s so much going on in his life and he just needs to talk. fluff #36, angst #31 and a happy ending please? Basically a Best friends to lovers thing as I’m a sap for that…thank you!! xx

Fluff #11; “I know it’s 2 in the morning but do you want to…”

Fluff #36; “because I fell for you, isn’t it obvious?”

hope I did this justice for you!

Fell for you

“Jesus god,” you grumbled with hands aimlessly palming across the mattress for the blaring sound of your phone from its place charging somewhere on the bed. Your next move is an elongated “Ahhhhh,” sound, fatigue still holding tightly onto your body in a way that seals your eyes shut even as you try to shut off the sound your phone was deafening your with. In a wakened state, you might’ve noticed that it was your ringtone that had interrupted your sleep. However as tired as you were you ruled it as your alarm right away and moved yourself into seated position with the duvet still wrapped tight around you and your eyes still shut.

You were suspended in that space between being asleep and being awake, still sitting up when the offensive sound came screaming through your phone once again.

This time, your eyes snapped open in fright and the fatigue-blurred letters of Jack Grealish’s name popped up across the top of your screen.

“How is it morning already?” You protest down the line, a heavy sigh passing your lips to follow. Jack’s chuckle can be heard through the line, “It’s not.” He replies simply, prompting you to pull your phone away from your ear to hold out in front if your face.

02:17am

“Then why on earth am I up?” You mumble, a question more posed to yourself than the man on the other end. “Wait, why are you up? And why are you calling so early?”

“I’m outside your door.”

“You’re what?!” You throw back your duvet and swing your legs over the side of the bed. You’ve hung up the phone already by the time you reach the front door at a tired shuffle. His hair is tousled when you see him, like he’s been running his hands through it over and over, you imagine that he has. He does that when he’s stressed. You have to squint against the street lights and his car headlights outside, still on as it sits running on the street. “Can we go somewhere?” He asks, his voice as desperate as his eyes look when he speaks, begging you to agree. Not that he would need to beg. You’d do anything for that man. Even if it did mean dragging yourself from your bed at 2 in the morning.

“Course.”

No question, no pressure. He loves that from you. He knows you’ll ask him later and when the time is right you’ll force him to tell you of course. Now is not that time yet and you’re nowhere near awake enough to do so much anyway. “Let me just grab my-“

“I have a hoodie in the car and your shoes in my boot.” He cuts in, tugging your arm gently out the door of your house. He knows you better than any other person in this world, so he knows full and well that there’s not much you are going to do in the way of protesting when you’re so soon out of sleep. He’d often teased with layers of worry deeper beneath that he genuinely worried for you living on your own. You open the door to people far too easily, and he will not fail to bring that up sometime tomorrow. For now, he steps into your doorway where you had stood moments before, grabs your keys from the cabinet and pulls the door closed behind him with a click of the latch locking behind him.

The cold paving stones beneath your feet make you shine in protest, shifting your weight between each one to ease the chill. In was in that cold that you look down and make the realisation, or rather come to remember the fact that you don’t have any pyjama bottoms on. “Jack!” You yelp, “I’m not wearing trousers!” You suddenly feel very exposed and rightly so, standing outside your home suddenly very awake in only a long claret and blue shirt that only extended down to the middle of your thighs. “Eh?” He whips around, “You what?”

It’s only now he really takes you in with rosy cheeks from embarrassment, your hair messed up from your sleep. His frantic eyes soften and his heart stops thundering in his chest finally. The sight of you there calms him. You’re there. Right there. His (y/n) is right there in front of him.

“What’s the rush, Jack? Is everything okay?”

Your gentle words and tired eyes bring him back to the ground, the flurry of his racing thoughts only now finally calmed. He often acts on impulse, but you are always able to slow his brain down a few paces. His sits heavily, "I know it's two am but...do you think we could go somewhere. My heads fuckin'... I don't even know." He dips back down to run that hand through his hair once again. His words stoke a bit of a worry in you, head tilted to the side in question. Jack doesn't tend to be the kind who gets himself panicked and all wound up like he has right now. That's more your half of the friendship. You did the worrying, he did the easygoing.

"It's okay, Jack. Of course. Come on then, let's go." You nod your head and he goes around the back of the car to get the shoes and socks he promised you. You very nearly choked up a lung when he presented you with a brand new Balenciaga box. "What the fuck, Jack?" You all but wheeze out, head whipping towards him climbing into the passenger seat.

"Got you a present 'cause I'm leaving soon." He shrugs with a jaw-dropping ease. You list open the lid and inside sit a pair of sliders that cost nearly £400. You physically gawp. "Oh my god."

"What?" Jack asks, drawing out of his parking spot on the street, "Heard you telling your mum you needed new sliders for the summer, do you not like 'em?"

His nerves would be clear in his voice if you hadn't been in such a ferocious level of shock. You're glad you weren't eating anything because it surely would have choked you to death. Of course you had seen Jack wearing brands like Balenciaga, Gucci, Versace and the likes, but you had never owned such an expensive piece of clothing. "I mean of course I love them, J but I meant from Primark or bloody amazon, you shouldn't have spent al that money on me." You protested, but Jack really pays it no mind. In fact, the suggestion that you don't deserve everything luxurious that this world has to offer offends him more than it does anything else. You should know that you deserve everything good that this world can give and he has the means to actually give that to you. He'd count himself an absolute fool not to.

"Gonna pretend you didn't say that." He mutters, eyes kept carefully on the empty road ahead of his car. Your eyebrows are furrowed, a part of you brain still very much trying to a) wake up and b) process the expensive of the gift he handed to you so casually. "Not arguing about it either." His voice cuts you off the second you open your mouth to speak, shutting down your protest before it even leaves you.

As the fatigue of your sleep wears off, your mind continues to be just as boggled as it had been the moment his name popped up on your screen at 2am, if not more boggled now.

"You're acting so weird, Jack. What the hell is going on with you today?" Your insistence is careful with your pressure. It's enough to try to open him up but not enough to make it sound like a confrontation. Neither you nor Jack like confrontation especially with each other. The words make him chew on his lip as he careens the large white range rover through a turn that leads up a gravel road that crunches beneath his tires. The stops when he's met with a with a large gate that prevents cars but a little slot for people to walk through. Jack leaves his door open when he leaves the car with a curtly mumbled "Stay here" as he does. He pushes open the gate with ease before he gets back in the car and follows the path up the hill further.

He stop abruptly in a very small gravel car park without any parking lines to abide and steps out, slamming his door behind him like he absolutely always does; you swear that man couldn't be quiet if his life depended on it. Which was another reason why you were so surprised by his silence. You clamber out after him with that same fear of falling flat on your face that always fills your mind each and every time you leave his car. But Jack is where he has been every time you step out the Range Rover since the first day he got it; standing by your door to hold your hand so you can jump out without a trip onto the gravel beneath. He shuts the door behind you and hands you a spare pair of his loose fitting track pants.

On an average day you might've teased the reason he hasn't worn them was because they wouldn't have squeezed the life out his legs. Today wasn't one of those days, so you slip them on without a word. Followed up by his way too big for you socks and the brand new black slides. Even wide awake, this confuses you to no end. Jack was never quiet and never elusive. He was boisterous, loud, open and confident.

The second you turn around, you realise why he brought you here.

The view of the stars, the sky completely clear. There wasn't a street lamp in sight. The moon provided the kind of spotlight hue that you kind of thought only existed in the enhancement of Hollywood movies. "Woah," you breathe, words stolen by its beauty.

"Yeah," Jack laughs, "Now you know how I feel every time I look at you."

You head turns to him so fast it sends your head spinning a little, or maybe that's just the shock of his words. You couldn't tell.

"What?"

He shrugs his shoulders, scuffing his feet along the gravel to meet up with where you stand. But he freezes before he gets the chance.

"Why are you wearing that?" He asks, a very sudden cold change in his tone that actually makes your body feel colder. "Wearing what? This?" You gesture to the claret and blue shirt you had thrown on in a haste to get to him standing at your front door a short while ago. You turn to see his unhappy scowl and the firm discontented cross of his strong arms. "Yeah that," he grumbles, "And where'd you even get it." He adds with a flare of his nostrils. He looks adorable angry like this, like he's trying so hard to look angry when his emotions lie truly elsewhere.

You look down at the shirt with furrowed brows, before you shift your shoulder forward, crane your neck and pull the material around to view the back as best you could. "What's wrong with it?" You ask finally, attempts to defy the natural state of your body failing to allow you to see your back.

"It's Ginny's." Jack states as if its the most obvious thing in the world. You just look at him bewildered. "And?"

He huffs as he takes a few more heavy steps up to you, looking like he had a lot of things to say without any way of being able to get them to coordinate from his brain to his lips. "Why do you have Ginny's shirt though?"

You breathe a little bit of laughter at him, shaking your head softly. "it was just a joke. I saw him after a match waiting for you so I jumped out at him and pretended to be a fan for a video and he signed it and gave to me as a joke. I just threw it on when you showed up at my door in the middle of the night. Wasn't exactly a fashion statement."

Jack still grunts in dissatisfaction at your answer, refusing to meet your eyes. "You have plenty of mine to wear though, don't need his." His argues in a disgruntled grumble. You raise and drop your arms down by your side with a sigh. He was really testing your patience now. "Hm, last time I checked you couldn't give me yours anymore because your ex didn't like it." You protest with a wag of your finger, making him turn his head downwards with something like a shudder running through him at the mention of her name. "Yeah well there's a reason she's my ex innit." He mutters under his breath.

"What the hell is the problem with you today Jack?" You exclaim, his eyes jolting to you in surprise. You don't often snap.

"First you show up at my door in the middle of the night and drag me out of my house and then you won't actually speak to me and now you're picking a fight about John M fucking Ginn?" You snap, the anger and confusion he had stirred up showing in your emphatic hand gestures that only come out when you're telling him a passionate story or going off your head at him. "He's your best mate, why would that even bother you?!"

"I'm sorry, I-"

"I'm not done, Jack!" You yell, holding out a hand. "You haven't even spoken to me all week. I found out you made the England call up on fucking twitter Jack, twitter! And your mum told me about you dumping your girl and I can't even get through to you and now you're buying me gifts and bringing me here? I don't know if I'm coming or going here Jack, you have to give me something. We're meant to be friends." You voice breaks on the last syllable and a lump forms in Jack's throat that he can't just swallow away. Any pain, any hurt and any slight sadness of emotion that appears in you shatters his heart. He thought that was a normal reaction until two weeks ago when he realised it only happens to him when its your upset he witnesses.

"I'm sorry." He says, his voice thick and wavering with the same level of emotion. "I really, really am." He stands right in front of you now, so close you're basically chest to chest, faces merely inches apart.

"And I'm scared." He admits, sending a pang through your already aching heart. "Scared because I'm leaving and I can't take you with me." His words tickle your lips as they leave his, clouds of air puffing above the two of you as his hot breath meets the cold night air. "You've done it before, J. It'll be fine." You soothe, hands gently raising to reach up and brush the hair out of his face. His let's forth a content sigh of relief at the feeling of your touch. "That was before though." He confesses with a slight shrug. He watches that furrow sow itself back into your brows.

"Before what?"

"Dance with me?" He suggests, his arms finding their way around you with ease, much less fumbley than you remember from your high school prom. Your head tilts in that adorable confused way that makes a grin form on his cold lips.

"Why?" You query, eyes slightly narrowed in suspicion. He laughs softly. "Because the music is slow and the sky is gorgeous and because I love you."

Before you get the chance to recognise, process or even understand what he said, he's swaying you around the gravel under the stars.

"Because you what?" You squeak, your eyes desperately searching his as you look for any reason this might be some kind of a joke or one of pranks that makes you want to throttle him. He just smiles at you with those crinkled eyes and the love shining right there in his eyes for you to see. Your stomach flutters like the teenager you were when you fell in love with him. His lips dip down to capture yours in the best kiss that your being has ever felt, his hands ringing your hair, stroking down over your cheeks with those warm hands of his.

"Because I've fell for you, isn't it obvious?"

[saveourskinship]

beneath the sound of hope

Granger’s hair was blowing in the slipstream of the car. Her eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses but there was a smile on her face that glinted in the Mediterranean sun.

Which was hot and callous. Bright. And beautiful. So, so beautiful.

Her head tilted back against the seatrest and she sighed, contentment easing the planes of her cheekbones. 

As if the war wasn’t still raging. As if they hadn’t run away.

‘1979′ played on the radio and she sung under her breath, the wind whipping the words away before they reached him.

Her foot bobbed in time to the music, dangling on the edge of the open window, the reflection of her arches high and wrinkled as she scrunched her toes through the sideview mirror.

In a moment, in a second, in a heartbeat, a realisation thundered through Draco. 

A jarring, erratic palpitation. 

And it smelled -

- and tasted -

- and felt a lot like love.

Which is when the dread sunk in. The awful, diabolic tragedy that she was happy. She was so, so happy.

On the opposite side of the backseat, Potter snuffled in his slumber, but it was a pretense. A slight slittened opening indicated he was watching.

The smallest shake of his head at Draco and he shifted to more comfortably sleep.

And he knew. Draco knew. 

He knew what that shake meant.

Don’t mess with it. Don’t fuck it up.

Because she was happy. So, so happy.

And he watched Theo grasp her hand, link their fingers and place them on the gearstick.

So they were driving together.

Beside coast and cliff and girder, teasing the edge. Another precipice to risk everything for.

Together.

Hermione leant towards his friend, singing lyrics at him. Draco watched as Theo side-eyed her antics and gave a tight smile. Tight like he was trying not to grin. Tight like he was trying to contain how much he was melting. 

Like a chocolate-coated treat dripping ice cream in summer heat.

An annoyed foot violently nudged his.

Potter huffed in his ‘sleep’.

DON’T mess with it. DON’T fuck it up.

Potter was surprisingly good at hiding his own interest. Draco only knew because once when Granger doubled back to them for something, Potter’s eyes had never left where she’d come from.

Or who was waiting for her there.

He’d been a lot more careful since Draco had given him an all-too-knowing look. 

Now the only anomalous behaviour Potter displayed was to flick his gaze to Theo’s golden-brown hair. Just to see which way the sun glinted off it that day.

Potter was right. The risks Theo had taken to get them out... blowing up his ancestral house while the Dark Lord was visiting, refusing to leave England  without Draco, driving through the night in Muggle transport to not be detected.

They owed Theo a lot.

He hadn’t known about the Horcruxes, or that Bellatrix had access to one and resurrected Voldemort via Hufflepuff’s cup a few days later. 

He hadn’t known this version of Tom would be younger. Less powerful, surely, but more sane. 

And sanity was turning out to be a very dangerous thing.

Granger had tried to insist they return immediately once they’d found out. Theo refused. He, rightly in Draco’s opinion, pointed out going back without a solid plan would be unnecessarily reckless.

He’d asked her, begged her really, for three months. Three months to relax, to think clearly, to strategise.

So they were touring Europe, sticking close to the ocean. Staying in Muggle towns, never for longer than a day or two.

And Theo and Hermione fell more in love every day.

Draco had been shocked when he’d met Theo at the Muggle petrol station in Wiltshire to find that their last-resort escape plan now included two stowaways in the form of Undesirables No. 1 and No. 2. 

The disbelief continued when Theo admitted his dalliance with Granger in sixth year. Their assignment as Arithmancy partners turning into a friendship then a romance. 

Then love.

Draco had thought him insane. Swotty, annoying Granger with her far-too-eager attitude...

It turned out the insanity Theo was afflicted with was contagious though.

Don’t mess with it. Don’t fuck it up.

Granger turned in her seat, facing him and Potter. She curled up and tested the length of the seatbelt by resting her head on Theo’s shoulder. 

It didn’t look terribly comfortable, her legs leaning on the middle console of the car. But she seemed content, regardless.

She took her sunglasses off and placed them on the dash before snaking her hand through the gap to take Harry’s. Potter smiled but didn’t open his eyes, gently stroking her thumb with his own.

Granger squeezed Potter a little and flicked her gaze to Draco. 

She smiled.

He stuttered.

Don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck it up.

She observed him with a knowing flick of her eyes, “You look a bit bored.”

“It’s chronic,” he replied and she laughed so freely it constricted something caged in him. 

Theo leant his head on top of hers and she kissed his shoulder through his T-shirt.

Draco looked out the window to distract himself from the raw, hungry want that rushed in him.

“I could use your help,” Hermione addressed him again. He turned back to regard her with a silent question in his expression. She had an openness on her face. Waiting.

“Oh?”

“We need to solve a murder,” she informed him.

“A murder?” he repeated, vaguely alarmed.

“A puzzle,” Theo clarified, meeting Draco’s eyes in the rearview mirror and Draco felt a grizzled pit of guilt settle in his stomach.

Don’t mess with it. Do. Not. Fuck. It. Up.

“Go on,” Draco said, with a small lift of his fingers.

Hermione lit up, clearly excited he would entertain whatever she had in mind.

“Right! Well, then, this is the problem: Two people are at a party and given the same drink. The drinks are exactly the same, given by the same person at the same time with the same ingredients. But... only one of them dies. What happened?”

Draco frowned, “That’s not much information to try formulate a theory.”

She grinned, happy with his engagement. 

Draco clenched his jaw to stop himself grinning back.

“You can ask questions. Consider it role-play. You can be the hard, jaded Auror and I’ll be a nervous yet belligerent suspect,” she offered, genially.

“Alright then. Tell me, Miss Granger,” Draco began. He ignored the twitch of a frown from Potter, and the touch of pride in Theo’s eyes. 

Instead, he watched the amused way Granger sparkled at him. She patted Harry’s hand before releasing it, sinking in a crossed-armed sulk, affecting the mien of a caught criminal.

“Yes?” she replied, testily before poking her tongue out teasingly to make sure he knew she was playing.

A warmth that had nothing to do with the sun spread across his chest.

“What did this drink consist of? A full list, if you please-”

“Vodka, cranberry juice and ice,” she replied with mocking combativeness.

“Anything else?” Draco drawled with a weary sigh.

He wouldn’t fuck with it.

“Well, poison, too. Obviously,” Granger rolled her eyes, committing to the role.

He wouldn’t mess with it.

“Yes, poison. Administered how?” Draco continued the charade. Enjoying himself probably a little too much. Theo laughed softly and Granger turned to ask him ‘What?’ but he just shook his head.

Potter had stopped pretending to sleep and was faintly glaring at Draco who sent him a shrug.

Hermione rejoined the game with a adorably prim click of her throat, “Well, isn’t it your job to find out, Mr. Auror, sir?”

The grin escaped despite himself.

He wouldn’t mess with it. He wouldn’t fuck it up.

But gods he wanted to.

[finalfantasyxivwritings]

what if. emmanellain wore the maid dress. and here me out here. and wol fucked him

“Well?” the man makes a little twirl, causing the skirt of his outfit flutter slightly against the movement. “I can’t rightly say I understand your unending fascination to have me in one of these things. Not unflattering, but I am quite a bit more used to… well, dress slacks and a coat.”

“You didn’t have to wear it,” you point out, but Emmanellain’s expression pinches into annoyance, as if you had said something to offend him—which is rather difficult in itself for how easy-going he tends to be around you.

“Of course I didn’t! But I very well couldn’t hear you going on about it forever, seeing as you were so keen to mention it within my earshot on several occasions.”

In spite of the man’s acclaimed loathing, you couldn’t help but notice that they way he stood there—hands perched delicately on his hips, lips pursed and one foot tapping almost impatiently on the wood floor—it did look rather endearing. Maybe it was due to his soft features or his naturally slim figure, or maybe yet it’s because Emmanellain hasn’t dropped the fervent haze of pink on his cheeks from the moment he pulled the garments on. But regardless of the reason, he simply looked good in a maid outfit. Stupidly good, in fact.

So you tell him as much. Words and expression alike, which seems to make the young Fortempts lord practically preen beneath the praise.

“Well,” he scoffs, twirling once more and watching the way the dress flutters. “Daring hero I may not be, but I suppose I can be akin to a delightful maiden for a day. You are owed at least that much, if nothing else. My elder brother could hardly make this look half as good as I.”

A moment or so passes in outward silence, but your thoughts are rampant—largely of all the ways you could leave Emmanellain debauched and breathless, and preferably without messing up the dress itself all that much.

“How expensive was the outfit?”

“Hardly worth mentioning,” Emmanellain says, waving off the question with one hand. “The fabric is standard quality for the outfit, as I was told—though I’m not quite certain what normal quality would be in Limsa Lominsa—Ishgard has enough sense nowadays to clothe our servants in warmer wear than this.” He takes in a breath and none too discreetly turns his eyes away from you. “These underclothes are hardly comfortable either. How a lady could put up with these is beyond me.”

You blink. Realization dawning over your mind, the question falls from your lips before you can think to stop it. “Emmanellain, you’re… not wearing knickers under those tights, right?”

To this, the lord looks more aggrieved than embarrassed. “Well of course!” he exclaims. “Why would I go through the trouble of putting this thing on if I wasn’t going to wear the entire outfit? Are you not the person who impressed—quite strongly I might add—that one shouldn’t leave deeds and promises half-completed?”

From that moment your memory is a bit blurred. You can recall several things happening in quick succession, but what sticks out the most is the delightful sound of surprise to spill from Emmanellain’s lips coupled with the unmistakable noise of fabric being torn apart.

After all, he said it hadn’t been expensive.

[mickeyhenrysgf]

Same Old Mistakes

Summary: Lee Bodecker is jealous of your new relationship with Arvin Russell

Pairings: Modern Day! Arvin Russell x reader, Modern Day! Lee Bodecker x reader

Warnings: manipulation, age gap (reader is in college 20), cheating , dub con, unprotected sex, degrading language, dark themes, please don’t read if you’re not 18+ or these warnings make you uncomfortable.

Author’s note: this is kind of a sequel to my other one shot Party Favors from my old account. You don’t really have to read it though to understand. Anyways, someone commented the reader should fuck Arvin & well I put my own twist on it because I love Lee way too much.

It’s been a month since Sheriff Bodecker was called to stop your party. You wished you could erase the memories from the night. Lee always had a soft spot for you but you took his kindness for granted.

In exchange for not getting turned in for your noise complaint, you had to get on your knees for the Sheriff. To think the sheriff would even care about you or even your pleasures was a silly idea. He cares about one thing and one thing only. Controlling everyone in the town. But, that was a month ago. You stayed clear from misconduct, you didn’t want to see his face ever again.

Now, you were somewhat happy. You were finally interested in someone around your age. His name was Arvin Russell. Everyday after class, he waited for you in his old beat up truck. Arvin didn’t go to college but you didn’t mind. He had small jobs here and there where he would even save some of his money to buy you small things. It was his way of showing that he really liked you. Maybe, you could see yourself falling for him...

“Got your s’ favorite” Arvin announced in his Southern accent that you loved. He had a cheeky smile as he took out a sandwich from his metal lunchbox. A new meal was always waiting for you after class.

You smiled brightly, leaning in and giving him a kiss on the cheek. Arvin pouted softly as he pointed to his lips and you chuckled giving him a kiss on the lips which he rightly deserved.

“You’re the best, Arvin!” you pressed another kiss to his nose. A tint of red started to cover his ears. He truly was one of the sweetest boys you met in town. You cherished it.

But, he wasn’t just sweet. He also knew how to woo a girl in bed...

“Holy fuck—!” You moaned, your eyes rolled back as Arvin pounded into you. The headboard colliding with the wall with every thrust. Arvin had a smirk plastered on his face. This was his favorite thing to do. Pleasure you.

“atta girl... doing so good for me...” he mumbled against your lips, his thumb swiping against your clit as his hips rutted into you. He grabbed your legs and hooked them over his shoulders creating a even more pleasurable experience.

“You close, my pretty girl—? Gunna cum for me, yeah?” Your hands pulled onto his locks and your mouth widened without a sound signaling your release as Arvin grunted heavily. With a few more thrusts, he emptied himself in the condom and pulled out of you, collapsing onto the bed. The condom thrown into the nearby trash can.

He pulled your sweaty body onto his, he watched as you panted against his chest. His heart swelled from the effect you had on him.

“I want you to be my girl for real...” he finally whispered softly, his thumb caressing your cheek. You looked up at him.

“Like— your girlfriend?”

“Mmhm—“ he mumbled and you smiled brightly, leaning forward and kissing him deeply.

As Lee Bodecker parked his car at the gas station, he saw a couple in a car not too far from where he was. The two shadows talked for a moment before they kissed each other on the nose. He couldn’t quite make out who they were but he figured it was young love. He rolled his eyes, until he noticed something. His eyes squinted and he moved his seat up, until his belly pressed against the wheel. It was you.

“Here, get yourself something. We still got a few hours left.” Arvin insisted handing you money.

“Baby... I can buy it on my own, it’s fine” you protested pushing his hand away slightly. He shook his head.

“Please. I don’t mind... how about you order us two hot sandwiches, so then you don’t feel so bad” you sighed heavily, looking down at the money in his hand.

“Fine but this is the last time, babe.”

Arvin hushed you softly, settling the money in your palm. He kissed the bridge of your nose and then your lips. The act itself warming you from within.

“I gotta pump the gas and fill the tires which is going take a while. See you in 15. Now go on.” You nodded and settled out of the car, walking into the convenient store.

You looked around the store. Arvin did say you would be on the road for some time. Everything looked good but you really didn’t want to waste all of his money. As you continued to look, the store doorbell rung signaling a new costumer had arrived.

Lee Bodecker walked into the store with a new sense of confidence. The girl who had been ignoring him for weeks had finally crossed paths with him again. He tilted his hat at the store manager before he walked towards you.

He found himself sliding into the same aisle where you were in. You were two busy bending down and looking at different flavors of chips to notice his presence behind you. His eyes roamed your backside and he bit his lip at the curve of your ass. If only he could push himself right against it.

You turned around to head into the next aisle but you collided into a taller figure. The chips in your hand fell onto the ground. You quickly scrambled to pick them up but a hand stopped you.

“No need Y/N... the pleasure is mine” you could recognize the accent from miles away.

Your heart practically stopped as you stood up to meet eyes with Lee who casually winked at you. That was the problem with the sheriff. He sweet talked you, then used you, and then did it all over again.

“I haven’t seen you in forever. Seems like you are doing everything in your power to not get into trouble...” he chuckled darkly, his eyes stayed on yours.

“Uh- yeah. I guess you can say that. Trouble is just not my thing anymore” you shrugged, looking around the store trying your best to ignore him.

Other customers continued to shop. They didn’t mind the presence of the sheriff.

“I bet.” Lee continued.

“You know... we never talked about that night between us.” You stopped in your tracks as Lee said those words. Memories from a month ago rushing back.

“Shit, you move on quick. Already sucking another man’s cock, huh?” He bended slightly to whisper in your ear just enough for you to hear. His lips grazed against your ear ever so slightly which made you shudder.

You quickly stepped away from him. Your relationship with Arvin was fairly new. He couldn’t have possibly known.

“What are you talking about?!”

“I saw you and Arvin in the car just now” He placed his hands on his hips.

“Congratulations... but he’s uh- a handful” Lee joked, his jaw clenching. You turned on your heel but Lee grabbed your arm tightly. Almost to the point of a potential bruise.

“Lee, stop. You’re hurting me...” you sneered through your teeth. He looked around the store before he grabbed you to the back and pulled you into the store’s bathroom, quickly locking the two of you in there.

“Lee-! You can’t just-! I have to go to back to Arvin!” You pushed his slightly protruding belly, trying to make your way to the door but he pulled you back.

“First off, it’s sheriff to you now. And second of all you don’t leave until I’m done talking to you. Or we can have a repeat from the party. You hear me?” He threatened, his eyes much darker from when he first greeted you.

You gulped lightly, throwing your hands to the side. Protesting wouldn’t get you anywhere. Just let him talk and you’ll be within Arvin’s arms in a few.

“Did you tell him about us?” He asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“What? No. Why would I do that?” Lee laughed softly, taking off his sheriff’s hat and running his fingers through his hands.

There was nothing to tell Arvin. But, Lee thought otherwise. He pushed you back against the wall, as you stared up at him.

“Because if I was him, I would want to know that my girl goes around sucking the sheriff’s dick and then begs him to fuck her”

“T-that was one time... and it was the p-past...” his words hit you one after the other. He was shaming you for an act he manipulated you into doing. Tears started to prickle at the corner of your eyes.

You were a good person. You deserved Arvin. Lee just loved playing the role of the knight in shining armor who pretended to fix your bad behavior every single time.

“Just the past” he repeated with an uncertainty in his voice. His thumb pressed against your lips like old times but you turned your head.

He rolled his eyes at your actions.

“You were such a bad girl. But, who always left you off with a warning? Hmmm? Any other sheriff would have thrown you in the back of the cop car, while you wait for mommy and daddy to pick you up!”

His hands roamed your body as he continued to speak.

“You avoided me for a whole month because you knew you wanted me and you were afraid” he sighed heavily, glaring at you.

Maybe. He was right. But you couldn’t give him the satisfaction. Not yet at least.

“Arvin... really, Y/N?” Lee sighed, pushing away from you in disbelief.

“I like him, Sheriff. He’s a good person. He treats me right. He actually likes me and takes care of me!” You pleaded as your eyes followed him as he paced along the small bathroom.

A tear slipped against your cheek. The doorknob was so close, you could make a run if you were fast enough.

“Do you love him?” He questioned, a hint of jealousy present in his tone.

“I-I don’t know...” Lee turned around and placed himself back on you.

“I can make you feel so much better than he can...” his nose pressed against your neck, as his hands grabbed your waist.

The attraction you had for Lee was still here. It almost made you feel sick inside. If he really cared for you, he wouldn’t do this. But, his words were messing with you. A voice in your head even tried to convince you to listen to him.

“Y/N, let me show what I should have done on the night of the Halloween party” his lips ghosted over yours and pressed onto you softly. He deepened the kiss and you allowed it at first.

Lee Bodecker was finally kissing you. Something you craved for the longest. But, it felt wrong. You struggled and pushed him away.

“Stop—!” You were out of breath as you took a beeline towards the door but Lee grabbed your hair and yanked you back.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?!” He barked, and you winced in pain at his grip. When he heard your whine, he reluctantly let go but kept his arm around your body.

“I’m in a r-relationship, sheriff!” You stammered, scared to even look him in the eyes. Lee tilted your chin up, his eyes now softer. He had to think of his next actions carefully.

He was playing his favorite game on you.

“God, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I got carried away” his arms cradled you in his embrace. His lips kissed your temple. His manners switched instantly. He knew playing the role of the bad wolf wouldn’t win you over.

“I care for you so much, darlin’ and Arvin... he’s not the one for you. He’s done a lot of bad things” Lee said softly, his thumb wiped your tears and cupped your face. If you were going to believe anything, you’d believe Lee & his job.

You raised an eyebrow. Arvin never expressed his wrongdoings. Yeah, he beat up a few bullies from school but they deserved it. Suddenly, you didn’t feel so uncomfortable in Lee’s embrace. Lee noticed this as your posture softened.

This was his chance.

“Really? Like what?”

“Oh, darlin’ if I tell ya— you’ll be scared of the poor boy. I don’t want that.” He informed, his lips pressed against your forehead again.

He was reeling you in with every word. This time you actually felt butterflies in your stomach.

If Arvin was a bad man, as the sheriff explained, then maybe Lee was actually protecting you.

“Please, sheriff... Please, tell me—” His eyes widened at your pleas. Something in him awakened. His cock stirred in his pants, a hard on soon to form. You sounded like an angel to him. He wished you would beg some more.

“You really wanna know—“ he teased, his hands falling to your sides, down your back, and right before your ass. You nodded, pushing into him some more. He bit his lip, his cock straining against his trousers.

“Well, he’s good with his Luger pistol, I’ll tell you that—“ he half joked. Lee tested the waters and suddenly put his hands on your ass. To his surprise, you didn’t move away. It’s not like you didn’t feel his hands either. You were just too busy, caught up in wanting to know more. But, it also did feel good, which you didn’t dare to admit.

He wanted to just bend you over the bathroom sink and have his way already. Just a few more lines and he’d be there.

“Remember that pastor in town who passed away a while ago—“

You nodded recollecting the only town’s gossip. You never went to church, but you remembered hearing the death on the television. It was one of the only major events that happened in Knockemstiff. Lee’s hands squeezed your ass softly and then wandered up your shirt.

“W-what does the pastor have to with a-anything?” You mumbled, holding in your moans at Lee’s actions. His hands cupped your covered breasts and began to grope them. In one swift movement, your bra was off and Lee was pinching your nipples. You gasped, arching yourself towards him.

“Shhh... getting to the best part. Just listen.” He whispered, pressing soft kisses against your neck and you finally moaned. Victory. Lee even started to get carried away and grinded against you.

You knew how wrong this was. It was overwhelming. If Arvin ever found out what was taking place, he’d leave you. This had to stay a secret.

“You’re taking too long!” you whined, feeling the sheriff’s hands and body engulf you. Although it was turning you on, you had to get back to Arvin.

“What did I just say? Don’t rush me” he bellowed, as he shoved two fingers in your mouth. The feeling wasn’t unfamiliar. He’s done this before at the night of the party. You played along with him and swirled your tongue around his digits.

You just needed to know what Arvin did. You had to see if he was worth it. But, you were surely testing Lee’s patience. He needed your pussy now.

“Turns out your precious boyfriend was a part of the murder...” he popped his fingers out your mouth, already undoing your jeans and pushing them down. He pushed your panties to the side and rubbed your clit with his soaked fingers. You bit your lip, throwing your head back and Lee chuckled at your body’s response. He turned your body around, the two of you now looking into the mirror.

“What?”

“Your little boyfriend killed the pastor.” Lee’s eyes studied yours as they widened through mirror. He nodded, moving your hair away from your neck. His fingers danced against the skin, goosebumps forming.

“T-that can’t be true-“ you murmured, as Lee began to place sloppy wet kisses over your exposed skin.

Arvin Russell was a good man. If he killed someone, there had to be a good reason.

One thing Lee was good at was creating his own version of the truth.

Your thoughts were clouded from Lee’s actions. It was all too much, but you couldn’t push away from Lee even if you wanted to.

“Well, start believing darlin’— you need a real man. Someone who is gunna take care of ya— That boy just gunna mess with your damn head...” The next thing you heard was the sound of the sheriff’s belt being unbuckled and his pants dropping. You sucked in a breath, already knowing what would happen next. There was no need to turn around.

“You’re not gunna run away now, are you?” He teased, as his cock ran through your folds, collecting your wetness. You gasped lightly biting down on your lip, shaking your head.

“That’s a good girl. Now, hold on, sheriff’s gunna make you feel real good.” He smirked motioning you to hold onto the sink as he slowly entered you. Your hands tightened around the sink as you moaned at how thick he was.

“Fuck!” You both announced as Lee fully bottomed out holding onto your hips. His thrusts quickly falling into a steady pace, as he pulled your hair back.

“So tight and wet-! Whose this pussy belong to huh?” His hand fell onto your right cheek, and then your left, until it made a type of red shade. It was the right amount of pain and pleasure.

You wanted to say his name but your mind kept drifting to Arvin. He was probably worried sick. 15 minutes definitely had already passed.

Lee scoffed as if he somehow could read your thoughts. His thrusts became deeper and rougher, his hand wrapping around your throat.

“I asked you a fuckin’ question!” Lee spat, his voice was deeper, almost animalistic.

“My cock is in this dirty cunt—! Not him!” Before you could reply he slapped your ass with a stronger force.

“It belongs to you!” you whimpered, tears falling from your eyes. He groaned, his lips sucking and licking against your neck. He was close but he wanted you to cum with him. His fingers once again giving your clit attention which was a little too harsh.

His thrusts were getting sloppier by the second, slowly but surely the only one on your mind was Lee and how good his cock felt around you.

“God, I’m going to make you my little whore. Your pretty face and cunt stuffed with my cock whenever I like, say yes” He grunted, his fingers digging into your hips and to his surprise you wiggled your ass against him. Even clenched around him. You were too lost in the ecstasy. He’s got you now.

“Yes—! Yes, I’ll be your whore!” you practically begged, humiliated by your words but it felt too good.

“Going to fill this cunt up now— and tomorrow and the day after that. You’ll love it.“ he grunted through his teeth.

“Please—!” You moaned, the only sounds consisted of heavy panting and his cock pounding in and out of you. The mirror already fogged.

“Cum with me!” He groaned, his final thrust helping you reach your orgasm. Moments later, Lee was stilling inside you and painting your walls which felt like forever, some of his cum seeping down your thighs.

He leaned over and wiped down the mirror. Your appearance was much messier from when you got there. Tear stained cheeks, make up ruined, & messy hair. You looked horrible but to Lee you looked like a doll. The sight already making his cock hard again.

He turned you around and lifted you up on the sink. “Mine” he observed, the coldness from the sink made you wince. Lee propped your mouth open and spat inside.

“Swallow.” And you gladly did as he pulled you into a forceful kiss, teeth and tongue clashing. His hands played with your breasts as the two of you moaned in pleasure.

He officially ruined you... and claimed you.

“Who do you belong to?” He asked one final time as he broke the sloppy kiss, saliva disconnecting from yours and his mouth.

“You... sheriff.” He nodded proudly, grabbing his boxers and trousers from the floor, and dressed himself. He picked up your panties and stuffed them into his pocket. You began to protest but he hushed you.

“You’ll get these back after you leave him... Don’t keep me waiting, honey.” Lee announced sternly, kissing you again and then leaving you alone in the bathroom.

Your propped yourself off the sink, your legs shakily going over to grab your jeans to put them on quickly. You splashed some water on your face but it didn’t change anything. Your hair covered your new forming hickies but it couldn’t take away your post sex look.

You nervously opened the bathroom door and walked back into the main area of the store. The store was quiet and the sheriff was already gone.

“Baby—! There you are—“ Arvin’s voice startled you from behind as he hurried over to you and pulled you into his arms. His hands cupping your face. “What happened?” He questioned, concern written all over his face.

“I was in the bathroom I-uh- have a really bad stomach ache. I don’t know. It came out of nowhere...” you mumbled, holding onto your stomach. Somehow trying to convince him that was the reason for your horrible appearance. He signed in relief, rocking your body back and forth.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home...”

Arvin was oblivious. Maybe, he was too in love and just believed anything that came out of your mouth. You were thankful for that. His hands interlaced with yours, as you both walked out the store, a limp in your step.

The sheriff’s car was parked in the front just like he said he would. He told you in the bathroom he would wait for you.

Most importantly, To leave Arvin.

The two of you locked eyes. The sight in front of him filled him up with jealousy. He saw the way you were limping. Proudly, caused by him. But here you were laced hand in hand with Arvin.

If you weren’t going to leave him, then Lee would take matters into his own hands. The sheriff stepped out his car, stopping you & Arvin. His hands on his hips as he tilted his hat up.

“Something wrong, Sheriff?” Arvin asked, holding you close.

“Just need to have a few words with Miss Y/N at my office. Something about her family came up. Won’t be too long and nothing for you to worry about. I’ll take her home to you— later” he drawled out the last words, his eyes filled with anger and his jaw clenched, you were in for it.

[stray-kids-react]

Sitting on their lap

Pt.1💜 -

Soft & Smut reactions

Masterlist

...

Bang Chan

{Soft Reaction}

° Becomes a habit between you two, especially when he is working on a song. You have trouble sleeping without him, so when he is up late working you'll simply bring a blanket and sleepy on his lap.

° Absolutely loves it when you cuddle him on his lap, will sometimes get inspiration of lyrics by you. Has written love songs about you while you were asleep on his lap, he just can't help but appreciate your love.

° The first time you fell asleep on his lap, he couldn't stop giggling and smiling. He wasn't able to look at you because he knew he would wake you up with his fanboying. Was judged by Changbin when he walked in.

° Whenever he is done he'll pick you up and carry you to the shared bedroom, pecking the tip of your nose multiple times. Almost woke you up once when you nuzzled into his shoulder, he just found you so cute.

{Spicy Reaction}

° Knows when you want cuddles or want to be punished, and teases you for hours when you are needy. Like lightly pecking your sweet spot, just waiting for you to either whine or beg him for something more.

° Will never let you take control when you are so needy, would much rather dominate you and be able to tease you to your limit. Acts like nothing is going on, unless you become bratty, then he cages you against the wall.

° If he is working and needs to finish something, he will let you ride him in his office chair. Even though it is impossible to focus on his work while you are riding him, ends up dealing with you instead.

° If the boys are around and you are teasing him, he will pinch your thighs and hiss for you stop secretly grinding on him. You always just smirk and continue your conversations like nothing is wrong.

Lee know

{Soft Reaction}

° Is usually the one to sit on your lap ngl, just because he loves being held and cuddled. Doesn't care who sits on who's lap, just as long as he is getting some kisses and cuddles, especially if he is tired.

° Rubs your tummy and nodes his face into the crook of your neck, even when the boys are around. Sometimes falls asleep in that position, just because you are so warm and he is so tired from practicing all day.

° If any of the members tease him, he always retaliates with comebacks like 'You're just jealous' and 'At least I'm not single and alone.' If you are around he'll kiss you right after a comeback, just to rub it in.

° Loves it when you sprawl across his lap like a cat, always rubbing shapes on your back with a bright smile. Once woke you up laughing when Dori laid across your back.

{Spicy Reaction}

° Won't hesitate to grind up on you, even if that wasn't your intent of the action. Likes teasing you in front of the members or in public, he loves and slightly gets turned on by your doughy shocked eyes and red ears.

° Will hold onto you waist tightly so you won't try and tease him back, because he knows that you will attempt to in revenge. Likes it when you whisper and beg him to stop, because he feels dominant and proud.

° If he is done of teasing you or you become bratty, then he will take you to the bedroom or washroom ( Public or not) and gives you both what you have both been craving. Not caring who hears or walks in on you two.

° Once held you to his lap during game night with the other members, and accidentally got turned on thanks to your shifting. And had to rush to washroom after his turn in Uno, due to an "Issue".

Changbin

{Soft Reaction}

° Loves holding you in your arms and just taking a break from his stressful schedule. You usually listen to random songs on your playlist, as you both spend hours cuddling on the couch in total silence.

° Whenever he is overworking himself, you will plop yourself onto his lap and force him to take a rest. Understands that you are worried about his health when he overworks, but sometimes just needs to finish it.

° Doesn't mind when you sit on his lap in public, since he is constantly teased by the member anyways. Likes resting his head against your back, sometimes pressing soft kisses against your shoulder blades.

° When he feels clingy and wants some attention, he will call for you and pull you onto his lap. Usually talking in his baby voice while hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Making your heart melt every time.

{Spicy Reaction}

° Smirks when he notices a wet spot on your underwear, as you sit on his lap wearing only a shirt of his and a pair of underwear. Gazes up at you with the darkness of lust clouding his eyes, making you silently whine.

° He likes pushing you towards him and softly biting on your neck, especially when you rightly tug on his hair while begging for something more. Always tells you to have some patience, with a cocky grin.

° Gets hella turned on when you squirm every which way to get some sort of friction, which works to your favor since he ends up getting bored of foreplay and just wants to fuck you against the pillows.

° He gets turned on whenever you sit on his lap, but it always depends on whether you want to have sex with him or not. He is good at containing his hormones when you don't feel up to it, and is okay with just cuddling.

Hyunjin

{Soft Reaction}

° Is a giggly mess whenever you plant yourself on his lap, especially if you are around any of the members. Always pulls you back to his lap whenever you try to leave, mostly because he loves your cuddles.

° Pats different beats onto your belly, sometimes asking if you can guess what song he is playing. Fiddles with the ends of your shirt unconsciously, it feels normal to him to fiddle with your clothing and fingers.

° If you wear jeans, he will pull you to his lap by your belt loops, caging you in his arms once you crash into him. Soon looking at you with a sly grin and playful glint in his eyes, making a pink tint rush to your cheeks.

° When you are drinking something, he will grab it from your hands and take a small sip. Occasionally cringing at the taste and asking why you drink that.

° Knows what you are up to almost immediately, and isn't afraid to tease you in front of everyone. And no one realizes your intentions, since you two are very clingy.

° Likes to press you harshly against his bulge, loving the way you squirm and turn beet red. Will secretly spread your ass apart, so he can push even deeper inside you. You hiss for him to stop, but he only ever smirks.

° Whenever he makes love to you, he loves the position where you ride him as he sits up. Just so he can feel closer to you and quiet down your moans if you two aren't home alone.

° Gets hella turned on when you put your head back in pleasure, and never misses an opportunity to kiss and mark your neck. You absolutely love his kisses since his lips are so warm and soft, making your brain go fuzzy.

[bqstqnbruin]

I hate it when you stare

Wow here I am with another part, another fic. Ignooooree my typooos. Is this more soft smut? No one told me last time if what I wrote counts so uhhhhhhh

Read the whole series:  I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair // I hate the way you drive my car // I hate it when you stare // I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind // I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme // I hate the way you’re always right // I hate it when you lie // I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry // I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call // But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

I really do have work to do for my class at 2:30 tomorrow but instead I finished this, so I hope you like this!

_______________________

“How is it bullshit? Everyone can tell that we’re in love with each other.”

“So, what, because other people believe it, that automatically means it’s true?”

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

Evelina was visiting home for the weekend for her mom’s birthday, which meant that you had the apartment to yourself. From Friday after work until Sunday night, you were free to do whatever you wanted by yourself. Or, you thought you were going to be doing whatever you wanted until your boss texted you saying that he wanted your project finished by Monday so you could present it that afternoon. That meant you were posted up on the couch, your hair tied in a bun on top of your head, a mug full of coffee, another of tea, and a cup with water all in front of you, the blanket normally on the back of your couch now draped over your shoulders. It was a full call to the hungover days you had back in undergrad when you woke up late and were struggling to finish the work you had due the next morning.

“It’s me!” you hear a familiar voice call from the door, snapping you out of what might have been the first and only roll you had been on working on the project.

You look up to see Matthew coming over the couch, plastic bags in hand to plop down on the table. “Remind me to change the locks.”

“That would mean you have to get up to let me in, though,” he sends a wink in your direction.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him, even though you felt butterflies throughout your entire body at the sight of him looking so comfortable next to you. It was just because he’s a guy, not because it’s Matthew. You let out a quiet sigh as he fiddles with the remote to your TV. “Who says I wouldn’t leave you in the hallway? Plus, I thought you were supposed to have practice today?” you ask, trying to focus more on your project than on him.

“We’re done, and we don’t have a game for three days for once, so we’re resting up. I figured, why not come see my favorite girl?” he says, resting his hand on your shin once your drape your legs over his lap. 

“Because Taryn is in St. Louis so you settled for me instead?”

He scoffs, slowly running his hand up and down your bare leg while his eyes fixate on the television screen. He had to be able to feel the goosebumps that he was causing with his touch. “Fine, my favorite girl in Calgary unless Taryn is visiting, are you happy?”

“Am I ever happy when I’m around you?” you tease, lifting only your eyes from your screen to look at him. Still staring at the TV, you can see the smile on his face, but it almost looks like his jaw is clenching, like he’s fighting saying something back.

“And how could I not be happy around you when you treat me like that?” Your eyes linger for a second on his smile before scanning the rest of his body. Even under the long-sleeved dry fit shirt he was wearing, you could see the outline of the muscles that graced his abdomen. His arms looked like they were begging to rip the seam of the shirt, and you wanted nothing more than to take it off of him and just let them free. “Do you like what you see, babe?” you hear him say, snapping you out of the thoughts you were convincing yourself meant nothing as he was looking at you out of the corner of his eye. 

“I’m trying to picture you as a more attractive guy,” you lie, “It would be so nice if Elias were here, wouldn’t it?” 

“If you’re implying that you want a threesome, then I don’t think I could do it with a teammate,” he laughs, his fingers tightening around your shin. Would Elias be better than Matthew? Any guy would be better than Matthew, you tell yourself. He’s your best friend, and nothing more. 

“What have I said about being crude?” you ask him, fixating your eyes on the way he’s biting his bottom lip. “I think I’m gonna go get my headphones so I can do this project.” You bolt from the living room to your bedroom, leaving Matthew there by himself while you search for your phone in a panic. 

“Hey, is everything ok?” Evelina says on the other end of the phone call as you try to search for your AirPods in the mess that was your room.

“No, Matthew is here.”

“And that’s bad because?” she asks, drawing out her last word.

Groaning, you drop your phone on your desk, prompting Matthew to call to you asking if you were ok. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” Turning back to Evelina, clearly in a panic that she could hear in your voice, “Matthew is here and I think I’m horny.”

“You’re always horny for him because you’re in love with him.”

“I’m not in love with him and I’m honry because I haven’t been touched by a man in like, three months. It’s starvation.”

You hear her groan on the other end, her parents voices in the background. “Hold on, I need to go into another room,” she says. “Ok, so you really told me two days when you got home that you and Matthew nearly fucked in public  in the liquor store. You have been touched by a man. He was also practically feeling you up at the bar a week ago, might I remind you.” 

“I don’t love him,” you say, unprompted, “And he never even kissed me.”

“Says that hickey that you somehow didn’t notice he gave you?” she says, you turning to your mirror to touch the mark she was talking about. You honestly didn’t know it was there until she said something to you when you walked in the door. “If you don’t love him, why don’t you just tell him to leave?”

“I want company and he’s the only thing I have when you aren’t here. Really, this is all your fault.”

“That was so sweet until you blamed me. If you don’t want him to leave then what’s the problem?”

“Horny,” you say at the same time. “Either do something about it or control yourself, babe, but I’ve gotta go. Miss you, love you,” she says, hanging up when you finally find your AirPods.

Pulling up your playlist so it’s already playing when you get to Matthew, you don’t even look at him as you take your computer back in your lap and throw your legs in his. You can feel his eyes tracing the outline of your body even under the baggy sweatshirt you had on from a college you never went to. 

You had worked for what was probably a solid half hour, Matthew mindlessly rubbing his hand on your leg like he did before, you needing to do everything in your power to stop from thinking about and wanting more. You were interrupted by Matthew reaching over and tugging on the hem of your shorts. “Are you really listening to Christmas music right now?”

“Is it that loud?” you ask, turning the volume down immediately.

“No, I can read your lips. You were mouthing ‘Feliz Navidad,’ and ‘Sleigh Ride.’”

“Oh, then, yes,” your cheeks flushed with embarrassment that you didn’t even realize you were doing that. 

“It’s March, babe.”

“Ok, but Christmas music is fine year round.”

“No?” he questions.

“So I’m going to tell you why you’re wrong,” you start, moving your computer to the table so you don’t drop it, provoking a laugh to escape from his lips, “While I don’t agree with all things in Catholic and the broader Christian doctrine, there are things I can agree with basically because they are up for interpretation, so I interpret them in the way I like. Take, for example, the ninth commandment: love thy neighbor. Some people take it as a literal ‘love thy neighbor’ as in ‘be a good neighbor,’ to the ones who live next door, but I think it’s a matter of caring for those around you, neighbor not being the person immediately next to you wherever you live, but just other people in general.”

“What is your point?” he asks, a devilish grin spread across his face.

“My point is that the Bible, which is the end all be all of Catholic doctrine according to some people, is up for interpretation and people use it the way that benefits them, no matter how wrong they normally are. In Hebrews 13:15, it says, “Through him let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge his name,” thereby, justifying and promoting listening to Christmas music year round. It praises Jesus, who is one of the persons that make up God, and doing year round is continuous.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“Hey, if people can be assholes and use a 2,000 year old book to try to wrongly justify their bigotry and homophobia, why can’t I use it to rightly justify my listening to christmas music all year?”

“Are you Catholic?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean I can’t learn about it and keep the things that I like with me. I’m not Jesuit but I follow their ideals like ‘care for the whole person’ and ‘be a man or woman with and for other.’ And Evelina’s parents are very religious, so we kind of put up a front whenever they visit to please them. They still think we go to Mass every Sunday.” 

“Is that why there’s sometimes a crucifix by the door?” he asks, you nodding along. “And that weird Jesus magnet where he has a chefs hat and it says ‘fish and bread are served’ underneath him?”

“Yeah, I think her dad superglued that to the fridge because no matter how many times we’ve tried to get it off it won’t budge. Plus it’s a reference to another Bible passage.” 

“I went to a Catholic high school, remember? I already knew that.” You can’t help but return the smile he was sending your way, this time your eyes flicking down to his lips, you unsure if his were doing the same. You snap out of it, biting your lip and making eye contact with Matthew, both of you breathing slightly unevenly at just thinking about what you could do with each other. Was Evelina right that you two loved each other?

No, she couldn’t be right, because you didn’t love him. You pick your computer back up to get back to work, not saying another word as Matthew turned back to the TV. You hit a deadend, finding yourself back to staring at Matthew’s perfect face while his eyes narrowed and a small smirk formed on his lips at something funny on whatever movie or show he was watching. 

“Ugh, fuck,” you groan, Matthew’s head snapping to your direction as you cover your face with your hands. “I don’t want to do this anymore.” 

He reaches over and pulls your hands from your face, intertwining his fingers in yours. “Take a break, I brought food for us.” 

“You didn’t cook it yourself, did you?” you ask. The last time he had made food for you, you were sick for a week from what you’re sure was food poisoning from something being undercooked.

He laughs, the pad of his thumb rubbing your palms. You could feel your breathing get shallow by this, trying to ignore it while he’s talking to you. “No, I got it from the store down the road, already made. Mac and Cheese!” he says, pulling it out of the bag.

You roll your eyes at his stupidity. “Matthew, we’ve been sitting here for over two hours, why would you leave that on the table instead of in the fridge?”

“It’s still warm!” he argues, opening it, “Oh and it smells so bad.” You burst out laughing as he cringes, closing it immediately. “I’ll order something else.” 

You get up to go throw out the now rancid mac and cheese in the kitchen. “Hey, where do you want to order from?” you hear Matthew call, walking into the kitchen behind you.

The list. 

It’s on the fridge.

Practically throwing yourself at it to try to tear it down in time, you rip it off the fridge and fold it up in your hand just in time for Matthew to come in. “Are you ok?” he asks you, noticing your slightly faster breathing and your hands behind your back.

“Yeah, the smell was just bad,” you lie to him, shoving the list in the band of your shorts. “And I was looking at the Jesus magnet.” 

“That thing is so creepy,” he says, both of you looking at it. Knowing Matthew, you try as discreetly as possible to move the paper to your front so he can’t feel it as he inevitably presses his front to your back, his arms draping over your shoulders. Without thinking, you reach up to touch his hands as he rests his head on yours. “It’s way too white to be Jesus.”

His arms move their way down your body, settling around your waist as he starts to nibble at your ear. “God, you are so sexy,” you hear him let out.

“You’re awfully handsy lately, aren’t you Matty?”

“Oh come on,” he says, turning you around to face him, practically pinning you against the fridge, “You know we’re always like this with each other.” 

You smile at him, cupping his face in your hands as you run the pads of your thumbs along his cheeks. “We have a weird...” you start, trying to figure out the right word to describe whatever it was you had with him, “friendship,” you settle on, not exactly liking the word yourself as your tried to hide the cringe you were sure was appearing on your face. 

He swallows hard at that word. Even relationship would have been better, even if it were more broad than ‘friendship.’ At least it wasn’t such a narrow word. It felt like even if you didn’t finish the list you didn’t know he knew about, you would never see him as more than a friend. “Well, that’s what makes it my favorite friendship.” 

The two of you stand there for a minute, holding each other and gazing into the others eyes. You could feel your breathing slow down studying Matthew’s facial features again, thinking only of how perfect they looked to you in that moment. “We should figure out where we’re getting food from,” you say, dragging your hands down his chest before dropping him all together. 

He could have stared at you like that forever. He really couldn’t think of anyone more perfect than you, anyone he would want to look at besides you. “What are you in the mood for?” he asks, moving over to the counter. Opening your fridge, you remember you still have the list folded in the band of your shorts, throwing it in before grabbing some water out. “What did you just throw in there?” Matthew asked you, having watched your every move.

“Uh, Evelina and I have this weird list that we’re putting together, it didn’t feel right to have Jesus looking over it all of a sudden,” you tell him, “But now that you had mac and cheese on my mind, I kind of want that.”

“Oh, no, you’re not changing the subject that easily,” he says, trying to reach around you to open the fridge. 

“No, come on, it’s mostly Evelina’s and I don’t know if she would want you seeing it,” you lie, batting your eyes at him and trying to contort your face to make it look like you would cry if he tried anything else. He couldn’t see the list of things you hate about it. He couldn’t find out about it. 

He sighs, knowing he wasn’t going to win this one. “I ordered you mac and cheese but I’ll pay for it if you tell me the subject of the list?” he tries to bargain. 

“Uh, it’s a list of kinks,” you lie, not knowing what else to say, and usure why that was the first thing that came to mind.

His eyes go wide, pretending to be shocked. It was the list of ten things you hate about him. It had to be. He grins anyway, trying to hide the pain he felt knowing that the list was already started, and probably nearly finished at this point, “Are any of them your kinks?” 

“Yeah,” you start to lie to him again, a grin on your face, “One of them says, ‘When Matthew leaves me alone.’”

He scrunches up his face, pretending to be hurt by your comment as he walks back to your living room. “Oh you know just how to break my heart, pretty girl.” You follow him, plopping down next to him on your couch. 

You pick up your computer, snuggling into his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you. “I have no desire to do this project.” 

“Why don’t we watch something on TV then and you can work again after we eat?” he suggests. You nod, putting the computer back down, surrendering to his pout. You feel him kiss the top of your head, scrolling through the channels. “What about Lilo and Stitch?” he asks when he finds it on one of the channels. 

“Ugh, I love this movie, but the American treatment of Hawaiians is awful, and I just can’t help but think about it every time I watch,” you say, thinking you were being annoying. “Sorry,” you apologize. Evelina was used to your rants, even if you were sure she normally tuned them out. You didn’t think Matthew wanted to listen to another rant from you. 

“Don’t get me started?” he asks, referring to the game you and the guys played at the bar.

“Don’t get me started on the American colonization of Hawaii. The Cookes’ went to Hawaii and pretty much obliterated the royal bloodline. The king of Hawaii had the Cookes build boarding schools for the royal children, with good intentions that they would be able to educate his children on royal customs to effectively rule their land. Instead, the Cookes took the Hawaiian customs and told them they were wrong, imparting their own customs on them, instead. They wanted he land for America, they wanted to eliminate the Hawaiian culture and make them as American as possible,” you say. “The Hawaiian people were a very sex positive people, but oh no, American Catholic education and their ‘no sex is the safest sex’ ideal stopped the children from living the lives they grew up expected to live. If a boy was found in a girls room doing anything in these boarding schools, they would beat the children as punishment, and probably other things that weren't even recorded. There are actually a decent number of Wikipedia pages that have had this information erased, like when you go back into the edit history. The sources, as they claimed, weren’t valid, but in reality they weren’t the Cookes’ American-centric description of these schools. They even went so far as introducing sports into the schools as ‘an antidote to the worst evil of all: sexual promiscuity,’” you comment, drawing a laugh from Matthew. “Because we all know how much athletes hate sex, right?” 

You look up at Matthew, him beaming down at you as Hawaiian Roller Coaster Ride starts ironically playing in the background, “Yeah, we hate that,” he whispers. You swallow hard, trying to ignore any feelings that might be coming up at the sight of Matthew biting his bottom lip. 

“American’s always just insert themselves where they don’t belong,” you finish, settling your head back onto his shoulder as he pulls you closer to him. 

“Why do you know all of this?” he asks.

You shrug, not really sure how to answer, “I don’t know. When I’m doing work I see one word and it sends my mind into this never ending tangent and I end up looking up stuff online and reading for hours.” 

“You really are the smartest person I know,” he says with a sigh, “Why hasn’t Ev told her parents about hiding the Catholic stuff until they come?” 

You shrug, “I don’t know. I never asked, she just told me it was something she needed to do, so I did it with her. That’s her own cross to bear,” you say, taking a minute to realize the really bad pun you just made. “Ah! See what I did there!” you practically yell, Matthew groaning.

“On that note, I think I need to leave,” he jokes, getting up off the couch.

“Oh, come on, no!” you beg, taking him by the hand and trying to drag him back down to the couch. “I don’t want you to leave,” you let out as he pulls you off the couch. 

“Really?” he asks you, sitting back down on the couch, your hands still connected.

Standing over him you nod as he pulls you into his lap, straddling him. He pulls you as close to him as you can, your hands wrapped around the back of his neck. Your mind flashes back to the liquor store, the feeling that came over you as he worked his way along your body like you had a feeling he was about to do again. 

“Come on Matthew, you know this isn’t something we do,” you tease, even though you can’t help but look at his lips, the urge to kiss him creeping up on you as you tried desperately to suppress it. If any guy had taken you into his lap like Matthew just did, you would want to do the same thing. You were just desperate for a man, not desperate for Matthew. 

“We can’t do anything?” he teases, going for your neck again. You let out a moan, praying that he doesn’t leave any more marks that you’ll have to cover up later. 

“Wait,” you say to him, pulling him off of you. He looks slightly upset, not sure what to do next. ‘Ah, fuck it,’ you think to yourself, pulling his shirt off over his head, tossing it to the side and returning the favor of the hickey he gave you. You suck on his skin, listening to the moans that escaped from his lips this time, feeling him grow hard the longer you were at it. He clenches his hands on your butt, pulling you even closer to him. You work your way up his neck and to his jaw, his grip getting tighter the closer you were to his lips. You had no idea what was coming over you and causing you to want to do this, but nothing in that moment felt better. Nothing in your life had ever felt better as you kissed his face the way he did to you the other day, hearing him moan more and more with every connection you made. 

Your lips are millimeters from his, both of you practically begging the other for connection when you’re startled by the sound of Matthew’s phone ringing. You both laugh, foreheads pressed together. One more second and it would have happened. “I think that means our food is here.” 

“Perfect fucking timing,” he mutters, not loud enough for you to hear as you get up to go grab the food. He couldn’t believe you just did that. He checks his neck in his phone camera, seeing it littered with the red marks you had left for him. He reaches up to touch them, smiling for some reason. There’s no way this list would work against him, would it? 

You come back, him practically throwing his phone so you don’t see what he’s doing, settling down on the couch with each other eating the food. Your mind starts racing with thoughts about what just happened. There was no way you really wanted that, did you? Well, you wanted a man’s touch, but it didn’t necessarily have to be Matthew. It could be any guy. 

‘I have another thing for the list,’ you text Evelina, your eyes moving between your phone screen and his hands holding his food, careful not to look up at his face.

‘Good, god, what?’

‘I hate the way he stares,’ you send her, finally looking up, not taking your eyes off Matthew as the two of you can’t help but stare at each other.

[finaledenialist]

so in one of your asks you said you dont think cas was in love with dean since the beginning and idk its interesting to me because everyone seem to think he was from the start so what is your take on that? idk im just curious haha

ohhh I wanted to make a post about this so thanks for asking!

disclaimer: I don’t want to rain on anyone’s parade I just have a different take on this whole thing!!! 

So. I see people are like: OMG he was in love ALL THIS TIME SINCE 4x01 and I am like: no. 

Was he lost since he laid his hand on Dean in hell? Yes. Was he instantly in love? Nah.

See, Cas in season 4 and 5 is starting to feel. He is conflicted, he is questioning, he doesn’t have ‘people skills’, he is confused by what he feels, he knows there is a ‘profound bond’ between him and Dean and he is rebelling for Dean, because Dean has a point and Cas feels Dean is right and apocalypse and destruction are wrong, and this human is so human and he never had that connection before. Add the sexual innuendos, the eye fucking and the tension between those two and this is what i call ‘classic destiel’. I do have a strong feeling this is partly Jensen’s and Misha’s fault though haha but I am also convinced that the jokes like ‘Cas, get out of my ass!’/’Blow me Cas’ are purely for ‘comedic purposes’ because haha gay so funny (keep in mind it’s still 2008/2009 and things were so different then BUT we still got Endverse which had not only sexual stuff implied but romantic as well - ‘all we have left, Dean and I, is each other, if Dean says it’s time to go in a blaze of glory, so be it’ (I am writing this from memory so these might not have been exact lines but you know what I am talking about).

And then in season 6 and 7 is where things start to get romantic. ‘I watched you rake leaves’, Dean’s blind faith that no, Cas can’t be working with Crowley behind their backs because come on it’s Cas and the whole 6x20 episode is *chief’s kiss* and then season 7 and Cas dies to make things right and Dean keeps his trenchcoat and moves it from every car they have been using that season to always have it with him because part of me always believed you’d come back. OK, but I was meant to be talking mostly about Cas’ point of view. Which takes me back to 7x23 and I’d rather have you, cursed or not. I think these words had a major impact on Cas. Something just clicked. Because he realized that he could say these exact same words to Dean and they still would be true. 

And then we got season 8 which was a major shift and it really moved stuff from ‘sexual tension’ to ‘romantic tension’ and it’s still called ‘season fanfiction’ because I wanted to keep them away from you in purgatory and Cas generally not feeling worthy of anything but I think this is when he started to realize that what he feels is not like ‘brotherly friendship’ but something much deeper but he had his issues (I don’t deserve to be saved from purgatory thing) so he kind of kept it buried. But this was when the Real Love really started. But did he admit it to himself? Well I am not in Cas’ head but something must have been on his mind - Naomi had access too his mind and she immediately recognized that there is a certain Feeling that is dangerous and Cas needs to be fucking lobotomized (I still have shivers thinking about it). Did Naomi knew it was love? Idk, but she felt something was going on - that is why she tried to mess things up between Dean and Cas (I only wish he felt the same way ouch my heart....) and Metatron also recognized it, quicker and better (maybe because he spent much more time on earth and was generally a little more powerful and knowing as the scribe of God) and he immediately used Cas’ grace to banish angels from heaven because Cas was feeling love for a human. But did he, himself recognized it as love? Did he admit it to himself? I still have a feeling that no. I still think that his ‘I don’t know’ after Dean’s ‘What broke the connection?’ was honest.

Now let me fast forward to season 12, because this post is getting too long already and while seasons 9-11 had some good episodes and even good destiel scenes I feel this was the time many people - rightly so - were starting to lose faith in canon destiel, starting with Dean not letting Cas stay in the bunker in season 9 and bros acting like they only call Cas when they need him. I repeat - there were still some good episodes, even great ones. And we were shown Cas worried about Dean and being there for him anytime Dean called, there was so much pining but once again let me raise The Question: did Cas know what he was feeling was love? Or was he still confused, not letting himself believe, not being able to name his own feelings and emotions? And this is merely my opinion but this is also time where many people started to be bitter and negative by how writers treated Cas (and other characters in general but I am not gonna dive into that dumpster now, especially the Cas-having-sex-with-a-reaper thing which was awful, but in retrospect is even more awful because if it was Chuck’s writing this seems like some kind of sick attempt to do a conversion therapy and I want to throw up; plus he thought? he was into his boss at gas’n’sip and he thought she was into him and what even was it if not a. bad writing; b. Cas being confused; c. Cas being confused about this bad writing).

So season 12. First of all 12x12, when Cas thought he is gonna die and the infamous line ‘I love you. I love all of you’ happened. I  am 100% sure this is when Cas realized. This must have prompted questions for him. Why did I say what I said? He blurted those words out but why like that? Aaaand after some thinking I think he realized why. He must’ve been like ‘oooops’. But then Jack was about to be born and he had to protect Kelly and then he died.

And then he is in the Empty who says - I know who you love, I know what you fear, there is nothing for you out there. She doesn’t know shit, she just has access to Cas’ mind and apparently those were his thoughts, already at that time, he thought there was nothing for him out there (again, his depression issues) BUT THEN CAS, MY SWEET CAS, THIS BAD ASS MOTHERFUCKER says fuck you Empty in one of his best monologues (before 15x18 I’d say it was his best but here we are) and she yeets him out, because HE decided HE is already saved and he doesn’t need a permission and you can preen and you can scream and yell and remind me of my failings but somehow, I'm awake. And I will stay awake and I will keep you awake until we both go insane. I will fight you. Fight you and fight you for... ever. For eternity. 

And then Jack dies and he takes the humiliating deal.  And now we’re at 15x18 and he says: ‘I have always wondered.... ever since I took that burden.... What my true happiness can even look like... Because the one thing I want is the one thing I can’t have’. SEE THESE WORDS HERE ARE WHY I CAN’T SLEEP AT NIGHT. BECAUSE THEY IMPLY at least to me THAT:

1. He was aware of his feelings, he knew what he felt was love at the time he took the deal. and after that he was like ‘I guess I am immortal now’ because the one thing I want is the one thing I can’t have so nothing else is going to make him truly happy; this also implies that there is only one thing he truly wants and the rest is just not that important, whatever else happens won’t make him happy which is heartbreaking;

2. He knew what he wanted, so this means that at some point he wondered, he imagined, he took his time to picture the ‘thing’ he wanted. Which is life with Dean. Because he is in love. LIKE HE THOUGHT ABOUT THIS, HE REALLY DID AND HE CONCLUDED THAT THIS IS OUT OF HIS REACH (now people argue if that is because he thinks it’s unrequited or because he thinks that something something hunter life-fighting all the time-no attachments lifestyle won’t allow them to have this sort of life - and frankly, knowing that he learned everything, or almost everything about emotions from Dean, who isn’t really good at them, I am not surprised if he is sure that this feeling is one-sided, because maybe he conquered his fears in the Empty the first time around but taking the deal must have made him anxious and Chuck still calls him self-hating so he probably thinks this is one-sided and he is unworthy of love anyway);

3. He tried to imagine different scenarios that would make him happy but eventually it all came down to That One True Scenario, out of his reach, that couldn’t compare with anything else, and he tells Jack - you know about that deal, it’s ok, I don’t see myself becoming happy anytime soon AND IT HURTSSS

so to conclude and tl;dr - I think Cas realized that what he was feeling was love after 12x12 although he felt it before but might have been confused by it. I do not think he was ~in love~ since 4x01. There was tension and there was pining but no. This feeling evolved, it didn’t *just* happen in the barn. 

also i am so sorry this took so long but i have thoughts and feelings and can’t form a coherent sentence since november 5th anyway thanks for asking nonny, ily!!!!

[quiet-kunoichi]

[ @suck-my-tomato | Halloween Party Oneshot | verse; highschool ]

It was their senior year at last, and Kimiko was not about to let it go to waste. The rest of her high school years had been spent either too insecure to show a little skin, or not single enough to get away with it without some disapproving stares. The tail end of junior year, along with the summer that followed, was spent in a near-lifeless haze: she’d become well accustomed to depressive dissociation and avoidance to the point of self-destructive isolation. Meanwhile, Sasuke likely had the time of his life as a bachelor in the paradise of their recent split: that is, until his chronically-ill brother took a lethal turn for the worse.  Upon hearing about Itachi’s sudden death, Kimiko had lassoed herself back into Sasuke’s orbit  — Invited herself inside ( she never returned the key to his apartment ), ensured that he was taking care of himself in lieu of his recent loss. Additionally, it felt like a loss of her own, too. She’d known Itachi as long as she had known Sasuke, for obvious reasons. As odd as it sounded once her feelings became obviously romantic for the younger Uchiha, Itachi felt like.. a big brother in-law. After all, he bailed her out of her holding cell after she’d caught Sasuke cheating with that bimbo redhead from chemistry. It was a wonder why he kept the kind of company that he did; the run-ins she’d endured over the last few months since her split with Sasuke had soured her to the whole ‘Akatsuki’ gang. Just a bunch of sleazy womanizers.  It’d been quite a few months since that had occured, and Kimiko and Sasuke were growing steadily more attached to one another, once again. Not nearly close to the way they were, before the letters ( still unknown to Sasuke ) and his decision to plant the seed of everlasting insecurity within her by betraying her trust for the opportunity to mesh face with someone new. For a short while before Itachi’s death, Kimi had arrived to parties solely to keep the recently hotheaded Uchiha in line. She was his designated stormbreaker, and was expected to deliver him home safely each night that he took things a bit too far. Those incidents didn’t come without their rewards, such as the few instances in which he’d cling to her in his drunken and drug-addled stupor, apologize profusely and confess his everlasting love.. Just to slip away into sleep seconds afterwards.  Admittedly, Kimiko would entertain the heartache of such a prentendedly wholehearted and pure moment before ultimately lapsing to silent tears and peeling herself from his side to take her quiet leave from his shared home. More than a few times, Itachi and the Tamashi would share a quiet and lingering look across the front room. Now that he’s departed, Kimiko often wishes she would have sat next to him and allow herself a single shred of comfort from the situation she’d found herself in. His stare had always been a little somber: Like he knew all of the things that she was shoving beneath the surface. Was this going to be her lingering reality? Harboring this blood-stained secret, playing guardian angel to a haphazard boy whom broke her heart but didn’t manage to drown her love? Perhaps she should’ve asked the wise Uchiha Itachi, before it became too late. Even if she grew back what was left of her mauled heart to learn how to forgive him, Kimiko knew now that a life of romance and love was never going to be the same, for her. Not with old memories dredged back up and spot-lit like fresh wounds, vague yet promising threats from her imprisoned and somehow still imposing father appearing two more times since that first letter made it to her porch step. Sasuke had changed faces and become someone new overnight; he squandered all of his previous promises of her being his one and only  — and it elicited a violent response that her father had only just forewarned her of inheriting. Perhaps this was just her destiny, after all.  Tonight would be different, in a sense: Kimiko was attending this senior year halloween party solely for herself. She wasn’t trailing in on Sasuke’s colonged scent, nor was she couped up at home until the siren call came and beckoned her to act as ‘Sasuke Uchiha clean-up crew’. She was here to cook up some fun of her own, solely for herself.. Which is precisely what she had told herself at the last party she attended three weeks ago for ‘Homecoming.’ That night tumbled away into a mess of limbs beneath trashed bedsheets: Sasuke and Kimiko had once again found the most intimate form of comfort in one another’s arms, for the first time in.. 8 months. Tonight would be different. Or maybe it wouldn’t. Did she actually just put all of this effort into her costume for the hopes that it would catch his attention above any other girl there? Was she hoping for a similar end to this mixed-bag night as the last party lured them to?  Perhaps. It was mostly for herself, though. Yes, the tight black latex zippered corset, a pair of short spandex that clung to her hips and ass like it was life or death, the heeled boots that cut off just below her knee and the tights that squeezed her curved thighs just at their most voluptuous circumference.. The feathered black wings attached to her back and the headband horns adorning her crown .. All the way down to her perfected makeup, the dark tinge to her lips and the dash of gloss at the very center.. It was all for her. Not to grab the attention of anyone who bothered looking her way, and certainly not to make his jaw drop. Once again, her phone buzzes from its place stashed between her breasts. With a sigh that exhales the last puff of her menthol cigarette, ( thank you, Shikamaru ) Kimi plucks the it from her corset and unlocks the device. A strange twist of disappointment curls her stomach when the texts popping up were just from the girls. Perhaps it was a tad childish to wish upon a ball of gas in the sky that Sasuke would reach out to her: provide some sort of hint that he was interested in seeing her tonight — that he wasn’t already wrapped up in some other nameless skank.  Instead, it was just Ino and Sakura, buzzing at her ear like flies and wanting to know ‘ Where the hell ’ she was. They made plans to pick her up, but Kimi had different plans for herself. Already outside the party house, the fallen angel runs out the cherry of her pregame cigarette against the side of a white Prius. It belonged to one specific redhead from junior year chemistry class. If she knew what was good for her, that bitch would keep a healthy distance from the Uchiha, and a restraining-order distance from the Tamashi herself. The rest of her flask is guzzled with little more than a post-swallow wince: the fire of honey whiskey lit her back to life. She’d shared swigs with the passenger seat of Ms. White Prius — poor decision to leave the windows open a crack. Now that her confidence was rightly bolstered by liquid courage and her anxious insecurities settled with those two cigarettes, Kimiko pulls herself off the car. She throws a single backward kick of her heel and dents the door, donning a wicked smirk as she heads up the walkway and pushes inside. The damn wings of a fallen angel knock against the doorway — but they’ll provide a healthy bubble of distance from everyone else around her as the crowd parts around her. If she learned anything from the parties she’d attended in the last year — it was to make a b-line from the front ( or back ) door straight to the booze selection.

 Although she was already feeling that hot buzz of spirits in her blood, Kimiko needed to secure a drink to clutch for the rest of the night. Any time something stupid was said, any time something unforgivable was done, she would take a drink. And if Sasuke was seen with another girl, after what happened between them at the Homecoming party three weeks ago, and how often she’s been at his apartment and patiently helping him sort through his emotions, after everything that happened between them.. Well, she’d guzzle the whole cup and then someone else’s, too. Maybe crack a skull, pluck a tooth off of the floor for keepsake..  Ino and Sakura have flocked to her side, bubbling with astonished compliments as well as soured remarks on the Tamashi’s disappearance. The familiar crimson of slow boiling rage starts to fade away from the corners of her vision. She’s standing at the kitchen counter, red plastic cup empty and surveying the options. “ Holy wow, Kimi! You look gorgeous. ” Sakura, the little angel of their trio, chimes in at her left. On her right shoulder, Ino the devil shares her opinion. “ Gorgeous? Fuck that. Kimiko looks drop dead sexy. This is definitely an ex-revenge costume. ” Silent as ever ( at least, as she’d become over the last year ) the fallen angel reaches for the rum, rolling her thumb over the cap and flicking it across the marble counter.  It glugs liquid fire into her empty cup while Sakura wraps around her arm and tucks her head against Kimi’s shoulder ( a good sign that she was inebriated, herself ). “ Ex-revenge costume? How’s she supposed to get revenge from an outfit? ” The naive pinkette asks. Ino scoffs, “ Are you kidding me? Do you know how many guys have cracked their necks just to gawk at her? I counted six, just on her trip from the front door to the kitchen. ” Kimiko adds a splash of tequila into the mix, as well as the rest of someone’s open redbull can. Then comes the mixer: some sort of grapefruit soda, and a lime. Like, a whole half. She likes the bite.  “ And other guys looking at her is supposed to be.. revengeful? ” Sakura questions after slipping from Kimiko’s arm, their polar opposite wings knocking against one another in her clumsy step to shoot a questioning look to their blonde-haired and red-clad she-devil. A hand comes up to Ino’s forehead as she sighs. “ Oh my god, I knew you had too much of my Prosecco. ” Sakura makes to protest, and Kimiko ( who has yet to acknowledge them or make an expression of either distaste or amusement ) takes a tasting swig of her drink. It wasn’t bad, but maybe it needs more grapefruit soda. “ The more attention she gets from other guys, the more jealous Sasuke is gonna get. She gives him a taste of what he’s missing out on. ” Ino explains.  Sakura pretends to understand, but she’s never been the type for manipulative revenge schemes. Her payback is served with a crack of her knuckles. Meanwhile, Kimiko uses a healthy balance of the two methods of torture. Even still, as both girls bicker over whether it was a good idea to lure that side out of Sasuke ( especially in lieu of his recent loss ) or to move on like he didn’t exist, Kimiko scanned the crowd for his unforgettable features. They had no idea of what happened between the two at that last party; they didn’t know about his once thorny exterior quickly becoming dependent on her emotional support through this difficult time, nor how she honestly felt concerned and protective over him despite still trying to figure out how to forgive him ( or if she even had the kindness left in her to accomplish such a feat ). At last, they’d found each other through the writhing mass of bodies mingling, dancing, flirting, and drinking in a kaleidoscope of lights. Yellow high-beams meet swimming pools of obsidian over the rim of her cup. The whole world deafens and stills around them: despite the five yards of distance that separated the two, Kimiko swore she could hear his shaky exhale as he drinks in her visage — wonders briefly if he could somehow hear the tripping thrum of her heartbeat as her stare flickers over his own devilishly desirable costume. Pulling her lips from her drink, the fallen vixen swipes bubblegum tongue quickly over her lip and offers a little wink across the room ( unseen from her female counterparts ). Let’s hope this doesn’t backfire.

[keanureevesisbae]

The alluring charm of Henry Cavill - Chapter 10

Summary: After the livestream, Henry is trying to move on from this. However, that is harder than it seems. 

Henry Cavill x Adelaide Park (ofc)

Wordcount: 4.4k

Warnings: None

A/N: The formatting of this chapter is a bit different than usual, but I felt this would be the best way to describe Henry’s feelings. 

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

1 hour after the livestream

Henry fucked up. Henry truly fucked up. After he watched Adelaide step into that cab, the tears so evident in her eyes, he pushed all the cameramen out of his sight and didn’t want the other contestants to ask him any questions about this.

And because Henry obviously has a mature and adult way of dealing with his emotions, he locks himself up in the bedroom. The same bedroom where he made all those memories with Adelaide. He remembers her sleeping as soon as she would hit the mattress. Her fingers grazing over his arm. Her sleeping body securely in his arms, her head on his chest and the soft good morning kisses when they slept in the tent during their last challenge.

He takes ahold of the pillow Adelaide slept on and as he sits on the bed, he brings it to his face. He pushes his nose into the fabric, as he can still smell the hints of her perfume, her skincare products and her shampoo.

Tears of frustration burn in his eyes, as he continues to remember the hurt in Adelaide’s eyes just now. All because of him.

He fucking hates himself.

Yes, he cannot and will not deny the fact he did talk poorly about her, however he regrets every syllable of it. He knows better now, so much better. Adelaide Park is amazing and has so much to offer. They were planing on getting to know each other even better after this stupid program had ended.

But that is all over now and it’s all is fault.

He hates this show, every single producer and editor who works here and his agency. Especially his agency. He wants to sue every single one of them who were involved in making that heinous compilation, the one blew everything out of proportion, but he needs to think this over, before he makes any rash decisions. Decisions that might only do more damage than any good.

Henry stands up from the bed, to grab his suitcase and starts packing. He needs to leave this place, go back to England, to his own place and think about this.

Adelaide specifically asked not to mention her or talk to her and he should honor her wishes. That is the least he can do after everything that happened.

However, he should release a statement of his own. He should leave his agency. He should reach out to her in another way than directly contacting her. He needs to know whether or not she is okay.

Well, she might not be okay, but he needs to know how she feels. That she knows he is sorry, because he is sorry.

Very sorry.

Fuck, he is such a loser for letting her go like this. Adelaide was totally right. He should’ve been honest with her. Told her about his earlier thoughts regarding her and why he participated in the first place, but also specifically tell her how he changed his mind.

About her, about them, about him playing James Bond.

Henry grabs his phone, so he can check when the first flight back to England is, but he stops mid unlocking his phone and stares at his background. A few days ago, he changed his wallpaper in a picture of the both of them, sitting on the couch. Adelaide’s arms wrapped around his neck, her cheek pressed against his and her eyes shine with happiness.

Henry growls out of frustration. ‘Fuck,’ he hisses between clenched jaws. He already misses her, only sixty minutes after the live stream. He needs to think about this, because he will do anything to clear her reputation, to make it up to her.

Simply because he cares about her and only her.

His Adelaide Park.

◎ ◎ ◎

1 day after the livestream

‘Pick up, pick up, pick up,’ Henry mutters impatiently when he has his phone pressed against his ear. He is back home, as he wanders through his house. He really needs her to pick up. He needs to talk to her.

‘Henry,’ he hears Angela say in a flat tone when she finally picks up. Okay, she is mad and rightly so. ‘How are you?’

‘Not good,’ he answers in all honesty, because lying to Angela Bassett is only asking for trouble really. ‘Please, don’t spare me. I know you saw the livestream, I know you think I fucked up.’

She scoffs. ‘Well, in that case: you truly messed this up. I can’t believe you did this, Henry.  Adelaide Park has been nothing but an angel to you and I honestly thought you liked her.’

‘I do like her,’ he says in a defensive and louder tone.

She is not impressed with his tone. ‘And yet you still broke her heart. What a way to show her you care.’

He doesn’t need to get defensive. This is all his own fault and he deserves this. ‘I know. I’m a fucking idiot.’

‘That’s an understatement,’ she mumbles. ‘Tell me, what do you want from me?’

Henry lets out a deep sigh. ‘I don’t want to call her, because she told me not to talk to her. I want to respect that and I need to respect that, but I have to let her know at least one more time how sorry I am. I regret the words, I regret not being honest to her. I’ll accept whatever answer I get, but I need her to know how sorry I am.’

Angela doesn’t say anything and Henry fears he overstepped. Overstepped a lot.

‘Okay,’ she says, ‘I’ can do that. However, after this, you really need to reflect on this situation. You have broken her heart and ruined it for yourself. Get away from that abysmal agency you’re under contract with and share a statement on every social media platform you have.’

‘I’m already drafting something and I really want to leave that agency, I can tell you that.’

‘Good, because you need to clear your name. I don’t know if that is going to work, but you need to at least try.’

‘I know. Thanks Angela. I owe you.’

‘You sure do,’ she says and hangs up shortly afterwards.

Henry takes a seat on the stool at the bar and looks at the piece of paper on the counter, filled with scribbles and notes. He should make a neutral statement, where his sorry and remorse clearly comes through. He has seen the reactions on her pictures. Fans constantly tag him underneath her pictures and her underneath his and he sincerely hopes they stop doing that.

She doesn’t deserve this at all. She doesn’t need to be reminded of his actions on every social media platform she’s on.

He continues to scribble down words and eventual sentences he can use in his statement. Angela is right: he should do this.

He doesn’t know how long he is bend over the notebook, as he continues to write down a statement that actually satisfies him, but he gets pulled out of his thoughts when he sees the screenshot Angela has send to him.

And it’s what he expected. Adelaide doesn’t accept his apology (which he understands) and she tells Angela she doesn’t want to talk to him ever again, let alone see him. He opens up her Instagram, stares at her beautiful face. He misses her, but this is all his fault.

And Henry should live with that.

◎ ◎ ◎

2 weeks after the livestream

Henry stares at the screen on his laptop, as he checks out the announcement for the newest movie starring Adelaide and David Castañeda. He keeps wondering what would’ve happened if he actually had auditioned for it.

Wondering is all he does nowadays. Wondering how his life would look like now if he has just been honest with Adelaide. Wondering about them together, if the livestream went well, instead of exploded in the way it did.

He “broke up” with his agency and is currently looking at others, hoping to find himself a new and suitable one. One that wouldn’t do something like this. He always had a little bit of issues with the previous agency, but they offered him pretty decent jobs and he figured that was the most important thing. He never realized how much they interfered in his own personal life.

Henry closes his laptop. He barely left the house after he got back from Italy, except to do some groceries, so he wouldn’t starve to death. He is barely on his phone, just to let Angela, his family and friends know he is sort of doing okay. However he does turn down every invitation to hang out, simply because he can’t face anyone right now. He can barely face himself.

While he continues to attend his own pity party, he has checked what Adelaide has been doing and from the looks of it, she is doing great. She is absolutely glowing and obviously dealing much better with this than he is. She has been putting on a brave face for years now, so dealing with this seems like a piece of cake to her.

At least, that’s what it looks like to the public. During Tommy Hilfiger collaboration, she had this calm glow over her and the reactions underneath the pictures told her so as well.

Later the newest movie announcement with her, David, Reese Witherspoon and Paul Rudd was made. After that announcement, she has been pretty active on Instagram again and he has seen the pictures pop up at his explore page. He resists the urge to check her stories, but decides it would be for the best he doesn’t do that, simply because he feels like he shouldn’t intrude like that.

Fuck, he wishes he would feel better, but he doesn’t. Deep down he feels like he should forgive himself and at least try and move on, but he can’t seem to find the strength to forgive himself for his actions.

His fans reacted well to his statement and lots of people said reality tv can make everything look worse than it actually is. While it was definitely made worse than it actually was, he still feels bad and realizes he shouldn’t be as easily forgiven as he is now.

Henry is still thinking about suing the program, but he decided to just drop it. He doesn’t even have the energy to think about a lawsuit, let alone actually do it.

There is one thing to be happy and grateful about: Adelaide seems to do okay and for now, that is all that actually matters to him.

◎ ◎ ◎

1 month after the livestream

The 8seconds event Adelaide attended for her collaboration with them, might’ve been the worst things that happened to either of them since the livestream. Henry did look up the event, because he just wants to continue to see how she is doing. He saw the moment the journalists could ask questions and especially the second one journalist asked if Adelaide had spoken to Henry after the statement and what she thought of it. Her face never showed any emotions and she simply thanked everyone for their time and walked off.

Almost as if it was a diversion planned beforehand, David Castañeda posted a picture on his Instagram of her and the attention was immediately shifted away of the awkward matter. People are now speculating whether or not the two of them are dating and while Henry thinks that is not the case, you simply never know. The public at least is already shipping them and Henry would lie if he didn’t think the two of them would be a great match.

Henry finally managed to drag himself out of his own house and he is now at his parents. He did ask them if they couldn’t ask about Adelaide, since he would like to forget about the situation and so far, they thankfully honored his wishes.

She continues to feed him with extra little cupcakes and cookies and normally he would politely decline, but now he eats like he hasn’t eaten for days. He goes to the gym a whole lot nowadays, to get his mind of the whole Adelaide situation, so he doesn’t really care.

‘Okay, dear, I know you are still sad, but it has been four weeks,’ his mom says, as she places her hand on his shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. So much for not mentioning Adelaide. ‘You released the statement, you let go of your old management and you are keeping your side of the bargain. You are not texting her, you are not mentioning her. Yes, you hurt her, but you have learned from this.’

‘I know, I know.’ He rubs his face and looks up at his mom. ‘I just can’t believe I did this.’

‘Me neither,’ his dad mumbles. ‘I thought we taught you better than that.’

This hurts, but Henry deserves this. ‘You did.’

His dad sits up straight on the couch and stares at him, without even saying anything to him. No matter how old Henry is, that still makes him nervous. ‘You better have learned from this, Henry, because I’m rather disappointed in you.’

◎ ◎ ◎

2 months after the livestream

◎ ◎ ◎

5 months after the livestream

Henry managed to get his life kinda back to how it was pre-Adelaide. He has found himself a new agency and a wonderful agent, Julia, who managed to get him a great new role in a sci-fi movie. The filming process went great and he loved to be on set again.

Right now he is on his first press tour for the movie he did before the Celebrity Project ‘The Royal Heist’ with Anne Hathaway as his co-star.

Of course he still thinks about Adelaide, he thinks about her quite often as a matter of fact. He watches her interviews, he sometimes sees a picture of her on his Instagram explore page. Sometimes it’s a picture she posted herself, sometimes it’s a picture posted by David or someone else from the crew or a fan account.

It’s hard sometimes, not to think about her. Occasionally he wakes up un the middle of the night, thinking about her and seeing her laugh flash in front of his eyes. He realizes that of course he misses her, but it’s for the best they both move on without one another. From the looks of it, she is absolutely glowing and for that he is forever grateful. He feared she would blame herself, maybe completely hide herself, but she doesn’t. She has flourished and is not afraid to show it to the entire world. During her interviews she seems relaxed and makes a joke every now and then.

Henry sits next to Anne, as they are about to answer some questions about the new movie. The two of them joke around a bit, as Anne just recently discovered the wonders of Snapchat filters. It’s nice to have fun and not feel guilty as he did before. When he witnessed Adelaide having fun and being happy again, he felt it was okay for him to do so as well.

The questions about the movie are pretty basic, but after a while the interviewer seems less nervous than when he started. However, him feeling more confident, might have given him the impression he can actually ask questions he really shouldn’t be asking.

‘After the Celebrity Project, have you and Adelaide Park cleared the air with one another?’

Henry clenches his jaw. He wants to say a lot to this man. How he should mind his own fucking business, how Henry is going to rearrange his face for asking such thing, but then he remembers what Adelaide wanted from him.

He managed to do so for five months and he will not quit. Not now. ‘I thought my agent told you before hand I will not answer any Celebrity Project related questions.’

The interviewer doesn’t seem to care and continues to ask questions about how Adelaide was in real life, what they did when the camera’s were off and what he would do to make it up to the actress.

While he is nearly exploding with rage and anger, Anne manages to divert the conversation and when the end is near, Henry doesn’t thank the interviewer. He simply gets up to go outside for a fresh breath of air. The second he is outside, he takes a deep breath. Turned out he maybe wasn’t over Adelaide as much as he thought he was.

Henry grabs his phone and does something he hasn’t done for a while now. He goes to her account and checks the pictures. He sees the amount of David Castañeda related posts, so he goes to the actor’s page, where he sees excess of Adelaide pictures. She looks radiant and beautiful.

‘You okay?’ Anne asks, as she walks out of the building to stand next to him.

‘Yeah, I’m okay,’ he says, closing off Instagram and pushing his phone back into his pocket. ‘I made a promise and I wanted to keep that one.’

‘You did,’ she says with a smile. ‘Really, don’t let that idiot get to you. Weirdly enough, this is his job and you did well. As a thank you for diffusing the situation, you can buy me a coffee later today. Now, let’s go back inside. I’m wearing a flimsy bra and I don’t want the entire world to know I’m freezing.’

◎ ◎ ◎

8 months after the livestream

It has been eight whole months after the livestream and Henry finally thinks he is actually over the entire situation. The Royal Heist is nominated for an award, just like he was for his role in the movie. The rude interviewer three months ago was the last one to bring up Adelaide and thankfully he was, because Henry might’ve thrown some punches if someone asked about it.

He runs his hand over his black velvet jacket, before Anne stands next to him and says: ‘Maybe you should frown a little less.’

‘I’m not frowning,’ he says with a smile. ‘Just concentrated.’

‘Thus frowning.’

The two of them are guided by some very nervous assistants, who are managing the photo opts. And while he is slightly distracted by Anne and her embarrassing stories about other red carpets events, the commands of the paparazzi are becoming louder and louder and it gains his attention.

‘Adelaide, look over here! You look beautiful!’ Henry stretches out his neck and sees Adelaide Park, looking beautiful as ever.

The white dress she wears hugs her figure nicely and the matching heels create the illusion her legs are endless. Her long blonde hair, probably lengthened by extensions, is pulled together in a fancy ponytail.

Henry thought he was doing pretty well over the past months, thinking he was over her, but seeing her in real life… It makes him realize him being over her was all pretend. He can’t forget her.

Adelaide Park is the love of his life.

Fuck, what a moment to come to that realization.

He watches closely as David Castañeda stands next to her as he joins her. He plays her love interest in the movie, the man that has been all over her Instagram and the same man who she has done multiple interviews with. David looks like a nice guy, who seems a great friend to Adelaide.

David places his hand on her waist and together they pose for the camera. It’s weird seeing her like this. This at ease with someone else. When Henry met her, she was tense with stress, but that all disappeared. Of course he kept track of her, mostly to see how she was doing.

And she was blossoming and still is.

Henry watched their new movie, ‘Warm Up Period’ and it was an amazing romantic comedy, one of the best he has ever seen. Adelaide sure has a way of acting in these types of movies. It was all part of the job of course, he knows that, but he couldn’t push away those jealous thoughts he experienced when he watched their more intimate scenes. It’s all pretend—he knows that—but he could feel their connection through the screen. The way David touched her bare back, how the camera zoomed in on the goosebumps on her skin, the kisses they shared.

It was enough to make him green with jealousy.

‘You haven’t heard one single bit of what I was telling,’ Anne Hathaway concludes and he quickly looks at her. ‘You’re still not over her, aren’t you?’

He doesn’t know what to say. ‘I’m just happy to see she’s doing good,’ he eventually says, while still looking at her. Maybe she senses that someone is gawking at her, because she looks to the side, but he quickly looks away.

That’s what she wanted from him. If he saw her before she saw him, he should walk away.

◎ ◎ ◎

Afterparties aren’t really Henry’s thing, but he feels obligated to stay, especially after he won ‘Best Actor’. Other actors congratulate him as he makes his way through the hall and he puts on a brave face, but in all honesty: he is feeling miserable.

From a distance, he sees Adelaide standing all by herself. He could simply do it, he thinks to himself. He could walk up to her and talk to her. If she doesn’t want him there, he’ll understand and walk away.

Reluctantly, he walks up to her and when he is close enough for her to hear him, he takes a deep breath. He really is going to do this… ‘Hi Adelaide,’ he gently says to her.

She looks up, her eyes enlarging when she realizes it’s him. From up close she is even more beautiful. She looks breathtakingly gorgeous with blonde hair, but he misses the way her light brown hair made her look. It reminds him of a time where things were simpler and better.

Adelaide blinks a few times and says: ‘Hi,’ in a soft tone.

He missed hearing her voice. ‘If you don’t want to talk to me, just say so. I was just wondering how you’ve been.’

She clears her throat, as she studies his face. ‘I’m good,’ she answers and he lets out a sigh of relief. ‘How are you?’

‘I’m okay,’ he says, but his voice is telling otherwise. He is not okay, he is an utter mess. He just became a bit better at hiding it over the past couple of month.

She must sense that too, because she frowns for a split second. ‘Congratulations,’ she tells him and it sounds sincere. Of course it sounds sincere, the words come from Adelaide herself, the embodiment of sincerity. ‘The movie was really good and you deserved to win best actor. You were great.’

‘Thank you,’ he says. Henry can’t believe he used to be so comfortable around her and now he’s getting heart palpitations simply by looking at her. ‘You look amazing, Adelaide.’

She nods. ‘Thank you.’ She takes a sip of her champagne and purses her lips for a brief moment, probably thinking about what she can say. ‘I heard you turned down James Bond.’

Henry nods. ‘Yes, I did. I didn’t want to be part of that franchise.’

‘Was it because of me?’ she asks.

He sighs. ‘Well, I think you were part of my decision. I think I should thank you.’

Adelaide simply nods. ‘Right.’

Henry knows he shouldn’t do it, but he can’t stop himself. ‘Adelaide, I’m so terribly sorry for everything I did. I know I hurt you and it pains me every single day to know I betrayed your trust. Trust I didn’t even deserve in the first place.’

She simply shakes her head. ‘Please don’t do this, Henry. It’s all okay.’

‘No, it’s not okay,’ he tells her, taking a step closer to her, while still maintaining an appropriate distance from her. She doesn’t step back and from the looks of it, she actually is open to what he has to say to her, so he better make it worth while. ‘You had every right to be as mad as you were and I totally understand. I was just hoping that maybe we can talk about it, clear the air, so we can be in the same room together.’

Adelaide blinks her eyes a few times. ‘Really?’

‘Really,’ he confirms. ‘And if you don’t want to, I respect that. Just wanted to at least have suggested the idea to you.’

She nods. ‘Okay, just not here.’

‘Of course not,’ he quickly says. ‘How about we do coffee tomorrow? I know a nice place around here. They have nice cappuccino’s. If you want to of course. Maybe you want to meet up somewhere else, that’s fine with me.’

She shakes her head. ‘Coffee tomorrow is good,’ she says. Her eyes are brighter than the first few moments he started to talk to her. That’s a good sign, right?

Henry nods, as he counts his blessings, thankful that she actually agrees to this idea. ‘Good, good.’

Her co-star David walks over to the two of them and stands next to Adelaide. ‘Hi,’ he says when his eyes fall on Henry, holding out his hand. ‘Congratulations, man. I loved the movie and you were great. Very well deserved.’

‘Oh, thank you,’ he says with a smile, because David’s friendliness is contagious.

David places his hand on Adelaide waist. ‘Ready to go? Our limo is ready.’

Adelaide tears her gaze away from Henry and meets David’s eyes. She smiles at her co-star, in a way only she can do. This shouldn’t make him jealous, not after all these months they spend apart.

But seeing her this close to someone other than him, confirms what he thought earlier that night.

He missed her more than he originally figured.

‘I am,’ she tells David. ‘Henry, I’ll see you tomorrow then. You still have my number?’

As if he would erase her number. Ever. ‘I do.’

‘Text me a time and address and I’ll be there.’ She sends him a soft smile, before turning around. She walks off to the exit with David, his hand still in the dip her waist.

Henry stares after the pair, as his blood boils with rage and jealousy.

But he shouldn’t be. He can’t be.

Besides, the most important thing is: he is going to talk with Adelaide Park, face to face. He quickly looks over the crowd, to see if he can find Anne, so he can say his goodbye and go to his hotelroom to prepare, because this might be his only chance to make things right between him and Adelaide.

[likeawildthing]

Happy birthday, Lily. Note as to why I’m publishing this and what it means to me under the cut. This is an unpublished portion of Summer of ‘81.

xxxxxx

Two days after she finishes Potter’s snitch, July crashes down on Lily with a screech, a bang, and her own blood-curdling scream.

She’s stopped at the corner, impatiently waiting for her signal. Just as she’s about to bloody risk it and make a dash across, light be damned, Potter and Black pull up, looking smug and smarmy while straddling the motorbike.

Potter winks at her. Ought to be difficult, looking suave while riding pillion, but he manages well enough.

Black revs the engine, in a bid for her attention. When he’s got it, he nods at the road.

Lily immediately shakes her head. She’s fast on her skates, better than anyone she knows, but against a motorbike? Against that motorbike? She’s not completely bloody barking.

But then Sirius teases the throttle again, teasing her, and Potter flaps his arms like a chicken.

Pricks.

She isn’t a chicken. She knows this. 

She has nothing to prove to them. 

Really. 

But when Potter clucks, she flips him her own bird and crouches, calves tensing as if an invisible starting block were behind her.

Both boys lean forward in unison on the bike.

She cheats, tearing down the sidewalk before the light releases them. She laughs at their shouts of fury, skates faster, hair whipping ‘round her face.

Then the motorbike roars, a beast released, and with a squelch of tires on pavement they outstrip her in three seconds. Black pops a wheelie as they ride past; Potter nearly loses his seat, but doesn’t.

Even after they’ve turned the next corner, she doesn’t slow down.

The bike echoes deafeningly against the buildings as the boys loop around the block. As they pass her again, Potter waves jovially. She gives him the finger, but she’s grinning. She would gloat, too, were she in their trainers.

They’re waiting for her at the end of the block. Her legs are shaking, threatening to buckle, but she refuses to give them the satisfaction of doubling over and bracing her hands on her knees, no matter how sharp the stitch in the side pulls.

“Fancy a ride?” Potter asks.

Before she can answer, Black chimes in with, “Wouldn’t normally give filthy cheats a ride, but you’re a bloody mess, Evans.”

“I’m good.”

“You sure?”

She eyes them. “Where would I sit?”

“We’ll make room,” Potter says, grinning like an idiot.

“Your laps?”

“Handlebars.”

“Right. How could I have missed something so obvious?”

The sad thing is, she’s sorely tempted. But she’s got two potions to brew tonight, so—

“No, thanks,” she says, throwing them a two fingered salute.

“Evans,” Potter replies. “You’re skipping a chance to ride on the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen.”

Sirius elbows his best mate in the gut. “Bike’s not bad, either.”

She hopes they write her flush off as exertion rather than embarrassment. When James punches him back, Lily laughs.

She shouldn’t do it.

But the engine revs again—a blood siren call—and Potter’s smirk sharpens, pulls one of her own. The familiar thrum in her veins, adrenaline mixed with recklessness and something else she can’t place.

Old Lily would jump.

“Dammit,” she says, dropping to her arse and tugging at her laces, “give me a ‘mo.”

It takes an embarrassingly long time to pull her skates off, then her socks, which she shoves awkwardly into her skates. When she looks up, Potter’s driving, and Black is standing on the sidewalk. This shouldn’t surprise her—they probably planned this. Still, hesitates for a fraction of a second. Only that, and then she straddles the bike before she changes her mind.

She’s fucking barefoot on a fucking motorbike with James-fucking-Potter.

Old Lily needs a healthy dose of common fucking sense.

She’s glad the still lingering smell of rubber on asphalt masks her stinky feet.

For her safety, Lily tucks her thighs against James Potter’s hips in a pitiful attempt to keep her toes from the scorching exhaust pipes. For her pleasure, she wraps her arms around his waist.

“You know what you’re doing, Potter?” she breathes in his ear.

He shudders. She doesn’t have to see his face to know he’s grinning widely.

“Not a chance in hell, Evans.”

With that vote of confidence, he revs the engine and shoots forward like an arrow down the street.

In hindsight, she’s amazed they lasted three and a half blocks. To Potter’s first credit, it’s not his driving but the cat that does them in.

Technically, it’s her seeing the cat, forgetting about the tattoo she’d just inked onto his bicep, and squeezing to warn him, the blinding pain of which causes him to lose control.

He’s apologetic as fuck. Embarrassed. Terrified, rightly so, that his mate’s going to kill him.

“I think we’re even again, Potter.”

“You grabbed my bicep.”

“You crashed the motorbike.”

“Creative stop with the aid of a few dustbins, Evans.”

“He’s going to kill you,” she says, inspecting the shattered mirror.

“Fuck,” he says, seeing her properly for the first time. “All right?”

She assesses. She’s not hurt. Well, not badly. She felt the pull of a Sticking Charm, so she kept her seat, and a Cushioning Charm prevented real injury. A scraped knee, a burnt ankle from the muffler.

Not bad.

Not great, either.

She can’t fix either of her injuries here, with him. She refuses to get back on the bike, and he won’t leave her there, barefoot, with shards of mirror on the sidewalk after James pulled the motorbike onto the sidewalk.

They settle on piggyback, with more glorious thigh squeezing, though less pleasurable than before, while cheerfully contemplate which method of murder Sirius will employ when he finds out about the bike.

The murderer-to-be meets up with them a block sooner than expected, her skates in hand and a dangerous look on his face.

She whispers “hot oil and feathers, I think” in Potter’s ear. He shudders, and she can’t tell if it’s from adrenaline or the deadly calm in Black’s voice as he says, “Prongs.”

“Padfoot.”

“Black,” she says.

Black ignores her, his eyes fixed on James. “Where is she, Prongs?”

Lily hops off, best not to be in firing range for this. James lets her go automatically, his eyes fixed on Sirius. If she weren’t here, Lily has the distinct impression James would already be tackled, hexed, or perhaps a mixture of the two.

“Prongs—where in the fuck is she.”

“I’m fine, Black,” Lily says, “thank you for asking.”

“Evans, you’re clearly fine or you would’ve killed my best mate here. And thank you for not, because I’ll have the pleasure of doing it unless my motorbike is in the pristine condition I left it in ten minutes ago.”

“Go easy on him, Black. He was trying to impress a girl.”

She picks up her skates by the laces.

“You going to be alright, Lily?” Potter asks.

“Nothing I can’t fix at home,” she says, stepping on the ball of her foot to keep from showing him the heel.

“Ta, boys. Thanks for the…er….thanks. I think.”

“’Night, Evans.”

“Good luck, Potter.”

She giggles, fucking giggles, as James goes in a flat run. Even limping, which she hadn’t noticed before, he’s faster than Black. Lily waits until they’re around the corner, then starts for home, skates in hand. Yes, it will take her hours to brew some salves for her burn, but perhaps old Lily wasn’t completely daft after all.

______________________________________

Today I naysayed the idea of taking a walk, and then I remembered that old Lindsey--healthy Lindsey--never let something like the weather stop her from a good hike. Even if I can’t hike because health, I can go immerse myself in nature because I know it fulfills me. So I put on jeans and a sweater and my rain coat, drove the 20 mins to my favorite park, walked the half mile to my favorite bench and listened to the rain for forty minutes. Half froze to death, but it was great. Now I’m sat drinking tea and trying to warm up when I remembered this unpublished bit of “Summer of ‘81.” I have loads of unpublished fic and I think, if I do share them in the future, it will be in instances like this. This little piece of Lily—traumatized, disconnected, at a low point—that I wrote three years ago reminded me of myself today. We can make choices that honor our past selves even if we can’t go back and be that person. And that’s how we move forward, one oddball choice at a time. And as I published this, I realized it was her fictional birthday. So! Here you go.

[dershloop]

i wrote this while sick nd did edit it while slightly less sick so excuse and weird discrepancies LMAO

Title: Get Well Soon, Gumball

Words: 1698

Warnings: a bit of swearing, some self-esteem/body issues mentioned

Relationships: Glacier, background Plasma

“Are you sure you should be training today Cole? You don’t look so good,” Jay said hesitantly, looking over at his friend concerned for his health.

“Yeah dude, you look rough. I’m surprised Zane even let you get out of bed,” Kai chimed in, narrowly avoiding a hard blow to the head from the automated training dummy.

“Don’t say my name too loud guys, he didn’t,” Cole croaked, “I just can’t afford to take a day off.”

“What?” Kai exclaimed, purposefully being as loud as he could to try to draw Zane’s attention from inside the monastery. This time, however, he wasn’t as lucky in regards to dodging the dummy while also attempting to look after his best friend, letting it land a well-placed blow to his ribs. “Fucking hell, ow,” He groaned from his new position on the dusty ground, splaying out his arms in legs, letting out loud, long, laboured breaths as he attempted to lessen the pain.

“Oh my God, firefly are you ok?” Jay said, abandoning his kendo helmet and Shinai on the ground as he rushed over to his boyfriend to help him up. Cole walked over too, though with a lot less urgency, not even taking off his helmet or dropping his own Shinai.

“Ok you definitely need to get back in bed,” Kai said through laboured breaths to Cole, taking Jay’s hand and hoisting himself up with a wince as his side stabbed with pain “You didn’t even drop your Shinai. I’ve known you for years and even if you’re feeling rough you’re always one of the first to help us if one of us falls. You’re not well.”

“I heard shouting, is everything ok?” Zane called, walking out into the yard to the sight of Jay fussing over Kai and Cole stood, fully geared out and standing shakily, looking as if he wasn’t 100% sure where he was.

“You’re boyfriends being a little shit,” Jay said, looking over at Zane as he practically dragged Kai away from the yard and towards Nya and Pixal’s workshop to get some kind of medical help for his extremely bruised and possibly broken ribs.

“Yeah Z, he is not ok. You need to sort him out and get him in bed,” Kai wheezed, hobbling slightly.

“Kai shut up before you do yourself anymore damage. This dumbass probably just broke a few ribs and he still has the nerve to lecture Cole about being out of bed. I hope he feels better soon, I’ll come and see him after I’ve dumped him on Nya and Pix,” Jay said, beginning to attempt to drag Kai away.

“You know you love me really,” Kai coyly remarked, stilling wheezing slightly. Jay didn’t respond, but Zane could tell he rolled his eyes.

Zane panned his eyes over to his own sick boyfriend, who was still standing, fully kitted out in his Kendo training gear. Even his shinai was hanging loosely from his large hands. He looked genuinely awful, worse than he had that morning in fact.

“Before you say anything, I feel fine,” Cole croaked, letting out a long sniff afterwards.

“Cole Hence Brookstone I told you to stay in bed,” Zane said sternly, looking over at the quivering mess of a boyfriend who was currently stood in front of him.

“I know but-”

“No buts, you’re coming with me right now.”

Cole knew better than to continue to protest; in situations like this, Zane usually got his way. Whether or not it was rightly so was down to interpretation. He shuffled through the blurred hallways, not 100% sure where he was going. He knew a bed of some kind would be involved but the question of whose bed was a largely unanswered one considering his brain was 300% more concentrated on keeping him upright and at least semi-conscious. The room he was led into was dark; too dark to be Zane’s and it wouldn’t be Kai, Jay, Lloyd or Nya’s because that’d be weird. Even he was conscious enough to know it was his room.

“Here, I’ll sort out your gear and stuff just try to relax,” Zane spoke softly, taking the kendo helmet off and placing it to the side, doing the same with the rest of his gear and gi. He then began sifting through Cole’s wardrobe, pulling out a hoodie and sweatpants to change into. Only then did he let him back into bed. Cole frowned and looked up at Zane from his place in bed.

“Get in with me. I need my teddy bear,” Cole groaned, his voice gravelly and even deeper than usual. Zane smiled.

“Ok, just give me a second to change. I doubt I’ll be leaving here for a while so there’s no point in being in my gi,” He said, walking over to Cole’s wardrobe again and pulling out a t-shirt and shorts, quickly changing and climbing into bed with him, any thought of training for at least that day discarded. Cole quickly readjusted himself, scooching over onto Zane, wrapping his arms and legs around him, resting his head on his chest for warmth.

“Why’d you get out of bed? I told you I’d be back with tea soon.” Zane said softly, running Cole’s hair through his fingers, twirling strands around and watching as the light reflected off it, showing at least another 10 hues shining through. The deep blues, browns and midnight blacks mingled and danced with the golden light streaming in through the curtains. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. Even if he didn’t always think so. Zane would always be there to remind him that he was.

“I can’t afford a day off,” Cole said hoarsely, “I’m already not as thin as you guys, the more days I take off the worse it’ll get.” Zane furrowed his brow and thought for a moment, trying to fully process what Cole had just said.

“Are you… saying what I think you’re saying? Because if you are, I’m going to have to take evasive measures,” Zane said matter of factly. If Cole really did think him being bigger was a bad thing, there would have to be action taken.

“What? You know it’s true. If I stop working out I’ll just get fatter, I can’t take a day off,” He croaked sadly, biting his lip. His head was spinning but he couldn’t just lay in bed all day; he had to do something. He had to at least get a few reps in.

“Hmmm,” Zane hummed, “It’s worse than I thought. Cole, it seems you are suffering from a serious case of negative body image. There’s only one known cure,” Cole laughed a little and played along.

“What is it, doc?”

“500 kisses and a whole day in bed of cuddles,” Zane replied stoically.

“Oh well then, someone who spent 2 hours downloading every episode of greys anatomy must know what they’re talking about,” Cole replied sarcastically, a goofy smile playing on his lips.

“Exactly, and I know you’re being sarcastic so I see I’m going to have to crank it up to 700 kisses.”

“Oh no! How terrible!” Cole gasped, still being sarcastic, however, it backfired as he began to cough aggressively.

“That’s what you get for being an asshole, I’m also cranking your prescription up to 1000 kisses but seeing as this might go on for a while, I’m capping it at that,” Zane said with a chuckled, rubbing his hand up and down Cole’s back slowly, just waiting for Cole to say the word so he could administer the treatment.

“You know me too well,” Cole laughed weakly, propping himself up on his chin which admittedly was uncomfortable but he was willing to endure so he could look at Zane’s beautiful face, “So doc, when’s the treatment starting?”

“How… about… now!” Zane exclaimed, beginning to pepper kisses all over Cole’s head and face, making Cole laugh hoarsely.

Zane pushed Cole off of him, pinning his arms down and kissing all up his arms and onto his hands and fingers, before moving to his torso and making sure every square inch was covered in his love. Eventually, he made his way back up to Cole’s face, making sure every little bit of his neck was covered as well, in some places even leaving small red marks behind. Whether or not they were unintentional, Zane would never tell. The final kiss was placed on Cole’s lips, making sure to press extra hard to accentuate his point.

“Wow, Z, you’re meticulous I’ll give you that,” Cole said through laughs shaking his head at the nindroid currently sat on his lap. His hands sat on his waist comfortably, a true testament to how much they really were meant to be. It was almost as if the sweet tin can sat on top of him was made for him.

“Why thank you. Are you cured?”

“If I say no, do I get more kisses?” Cole said coyly with a smirk, massaging circles into Zane’s waist with his thumbs.

“Depends. If you’re good and get in bed properly and don’t leave until your better, then most assuredly,” Zane said matter of factly, his own hands idly drifting over Cole’s torso. If he could see inside his mind for just a moment, Zane was sure he’d see himself the way he saw him. He was the perfect size for hugs and cuddles, and his larger stature just meant all the more Cole to hold and love. It also meant he could pick him up which, in their 2 years of dating, Zane was sure he’d never find it the most amazing and adorable thing ever.

“Oh well then, it’s settled,” Cole said quickly, moving Zane off of him and getting under the covers, quickly snuggling back into his chest. He could hear all the mechanical parts inside him buzzing and whirring, turning and pumping, keeping Zane alive. There was something comforting about the soft noises that emitted from his boyfriend that just radiated comfort. The mechanical buzz was a grounding constant. Always there, always around, always keeping him sane.

Zane smiled and wrapped his arm around Cole, holding him close.

“Get well soon, gumball.”

[fallen029]

New Master

Laxus was gone when it happened.

He'd planned it this way.

His grandfather, in a closed conversation, told him that he intended to pass the guildhall onto another master soon and that it would not be him. While he didn't specify who it would be, as Laxus snagged an S-Class job the following day, he thought that perhaps it would be a nice surprise. Even a welcome one.

The job took the slayer far out and he took his time returning home, taking some time out to really consider what direction he might find the guild headed in; and perhaps even consider moving on as well. It had long been on his mind that, perhaps, he'd be better off leaving his family guild behind, forging his own way, and while he wasn't set on the idea yet, it did sound nice when he heard in passing of the new female master at Fairy Tail.

He was certain this could only mean one thing.

And he was happy for her.

Erza.

She would make a good master. She deserved it.

And...it kind of cemented that, eventually, he really would have to put some serious thought into finding a new place to hang his hat.

While Titania might whip Fairy Tail into shape, he imagined that he and her would butt heads far too much, too often to really find a home there any longer.

Maybe he'd find a new guild.

Or just travel around for a bit.

He could even, perhaps, start his own guild, maybe, one day?

It felt like too much of a dream to even consider and Laxus decided to shelf it, as he finally headed home. Something to thing about when things did get bad. For now, it was best to remain hopeful. So hopeful that he'd even thought of a non-snarky, almost welcoming response to Erza, when he arrived back at the hall that day.

Only, Erza Scarlet wasn't around.

Unbeknownst to him, she was out on a job with the rest of Team Natsu, no doubt stirring up unnecessary trouble and drama to eventually drag back home. This was why she wasn't around to congratulate, as his eyes scanned the bar that afternoon. He thought surely she'd be around, standing by the bar and barking out orders, not unlike she did anyways, but now with more, true authority.

He couldn't find her though. Which bothered him a bit, as he shrugged his shoulders, and considered that perhaps she wasn't the new woman who'd been crowned ruler of all. Perhaps it was another. And though he tried hard to think of one that was worthy of such a title, such esteem, he couldn't rightly come up with one.

Not that there weren't many strong women in the guildhall.

Just that there weren't many who he figured his grandfather would deem worthy of holding such an esteemed title.

"Ay, Mira," he grumbled a bit when he found the woman by the bar. She beamed brightly at his attention and, though he secretly wanted to return it in full, he was much better at keeping things close to the vest. "Seen the Thunder Legion?"

Mira shook her head a bit and as she told him about how he'd only just missed them, as the trio headed out on a rather impressive sounding job, Freed leading the charge, Laxus tried hard to pay attention to her words. But it was difficult. While the two of them stood before the bar, he just kept getting distracted. It had long been a game between the two of them, the subtle gestures and remarks, learning just what they could (and couldn't) get away with while drawing no suspicion to the two of them.

Usually, the woman was behind the bar and he could lean over it, to stare deeply into her eyes and speak lowly, mostly unheard by all others, and maybe her hand would graze his, just lightly. Maybe. And her sweet tone would sound somehow even lighter. Maybe. And for a moment, as she allowed her fingers to just ghost over his and the corners of the man's lips weren't turned down, it could feel like they were the only two in the bar.

But she was standing before it now and that was fine, as Laxus only nodded then, to it, before saying, "Get me a drink, will ya?"

Mira, who would normally had taken to this action without it even having to be requested of her, made a bit of a face and opened her mouth to, what he imagined, would be an attempt to excuse her mistake. Before she could get it out however, someone else spoke up.

"Watch yer fuckin' mouth, Dreyar."

He turned to glare, Laxus did, at whoever spoke. The voice gave it away though, before he had a good eye on the man. It was Macao, that old bastard, sitting up at the bar, leaned over a mug, alone, and apparently hankering for a lightning filled right hook.

And Laxus was close to doing him one good on that wish.

The words that came out of his mouth next stopped the slayer in his tracks though as, losing some of the edge, Macao remarked rather gleefully, "Talking that way to your new master. Oughtta be ashamed."

Laxus, who'd tensed in anticipation of putting the man in his place, felt an odd wave of shock fall over him in place of the annoyance and instead found himself staring quite dumbly at Macao for a few long moments before turning back to the woman before her.

"M-Mira," he stuttered some, frowning as he asked, "you're the-"

"Master! That's right."

This wasn't her confirmation, but rather the lingering Elfman, who came to toss an arm around his older sister's shoulders he boasted, "Mira's the biggest man around now."

"Yeah, Laxus," Lisanna, who he noted for the first time behind the bar, preparing a tray of drinks, quipped. "This is the Strauss family guild now. Mess with us, our Master sister will get you."

Elfman added with a nod, "Disrespect with our Master sister, and we'll get you."

And there it was, the shock turning right back into annoyance.

Having many people to take it out on now, he found himself focusing mostly on the middle Strauss as he remarked, "If lack of knowledge was a crime, Elfman, you'd be the first one fucked."

"You can't talk to me like that!" He dropped his arm from around his sister then, the muscular man did, as he took a step towards the other guy. "You-"

"Enough, boys." And Mira made a face at her younger brother. "Elf, Laxus is just teasing. And I sure it is shocking to find out that I'm the Master now. It's a lot to absorb all at once."

"Yeah," her brother grumbled, "if you're a moron. You're the exact person Gramps shouldda chosen. Perfect pick."

"Perfect," Lisanna echoed as, tray all loaded up now, she went to disperse the mugs of ale, "pick."

Macao raised his drink in agreement and it was echoed by some of the others milling around. Laxus though felt out of place in the hall, knocked off a peg a bit, exposed in both the tangible and hidden. He hadn't planned for something like this; Mirajane being crowned the new Master of the hall. Not in his general standing in Fairy Tail or, perhaps more importantly, his relationship.

He felt out of sorts and called out then and, though he wanted to either retreat or lash out, he did find himself taking in a breath before remarking, "It's not shocking. Mira. You're… I'm sure Gramps picked you for an important reason."

"Yeah," Macao snickered and Laxus wanted to slug him all over again. "An important reason. Two of 'em, maybe, even."

But as Laxus turned to glare at him, Mirajane only reached out instead, grabbing the man's arm rather roughly before tugging him off.

"Your grandfather," she explained as she tugged him along, getting some glances from those around, but mostly passing unnoticed thorough the layabouts who frequented the bar, "decided after handing the reigns over to me that he would go on a bit of a vacation. Which is nice, but he didn't clear out all of his stuff from the office before he left and I was kinda hoping that you could, maybe, take a box of his things? To his place? I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you did that."

Still a bit dazed, the man allowed himself to be drug along. When they came to a sudden stop before what was once his grandfather's office, he had to pause before continuing on, even when Mira entered without hesitation. For her, it was a place of business, where she'd count out the money on hard days, bring the Master his meals and bills. But for Laxus, it was where he frequently was reprimanded, as a teen, and held a lot of unsavory thoughts.

It looked different though. Now. Old photos were taken down, just empty wall space now, as Mira worked on getting it filled. The man's old trinkets or mementos from his long life were missing, replaced in some instances, the action not yet take in others. The room was incomplete, in a suspended state currently as Mira had no doubt gotten bogged down by more important things, and Laxus imagined that within the next few weeks, it would be fully fleshed out and all the woman's own.

"There's the box," she remarked, nodding towards where it set beside the bookcase. "It's not much, but-"

"Demon." He frowned some. "You didn't bring me in here to talk about Gramps' shit."

"I wouldn't take you anywhere to talk about that."

"Mirajane-"

"I just wanted to talk to you," the woman insisted and she reached out to just touch his arm now, that slight smile never rightly leaving her face. "That's all. Lax."

She stood before him and something seemed different about her now, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. The air about her had changed and it felt wrong to attribute it to something as stupid as a job title, but it had some weight, didn't it? Rising from a barmaid to a the head of the whole operation felt outlandishly ridiculous, almost like a child's story, picked from the commoners to rule over the kingdom.

But it didn't exactly reflect Mirajane.

She wasn't some lowly barmaid. She was a the harborer of Satan Soul, one of the top mages in the guild, and arguably the old man's biggest helper in the past few years. She knew the inner works of the guild just as well as she'd learned the struggles of a working mage. Mirajane was well versed in all facets of the business and though, from the outside, choosing the head of the bar to run the entire guild might not make the most sense, anyone in the knew had to be well-aware of what the demon brought to the table.

And Laxus, though he was still suffering from some residual surprise, was very aware of every single thing the woman brought to the table.

"Plus," she was continuing on then, hand climbing up his arm, fingers tracing all the way to his cheek as the man only blinked down at her. "I thought we should both realize the perks of it. You know? Having my own office."

It had been a bit.

Too long, maybe.

But there was too much going on in his mind then, really to focus on much else and, when they broke apart it was because he pulled back some to stare into her eyes.

"The Master, huh?" He ran a thumb over her cheek, fighting a grin as the woman nuzzled into his touch. "My Master?"

"Mmm," she hummed in reply. "Always have been."

He laughed then, and it broke some of the tension, but while Mira giggled at this, Laxus merely shook his head.

"This is," he told her simply, "a lot to take in. What'd you really do to the old geezer, huh? Charm him? Some demonic arts?"

She lost her smile a bit and now, not sounding so jokey, she replied, "I was the best person for the job."

Laxus was sure that she'd been forced to have this conversation many times over by this point. A stunning reveal fit for stunned underlings, may of who knew Mira merely from working at the bar. The stories did her little justice, at times, and Laxus as he grew older, though he tried to ward it off, found himself less and less enamored with the current youth. When he was younger, he thought he'd awlays feel that way; young. Now, hardly passed the age where these thoughts were at least somewhat socially acceptable, he was frequently appalled by their lack of respect.

Especially when it came to former powerhouses in the guild, such as the woman standing before him.

Was he this way? When he was young? He could recall challenging any and all who would help him hone his power, but to outright believe they were beneath him?

Maybe he had been this way.

In fact, if he were honest with himself, perhaps he was that way for far too long.

Still, he could tell by the way that the woman spoke that his jest hadn't been well-received. It was the slayer that grabbed the woman's arm this time, both of them in fact, and though he was still toying with what all of this meant, his girlfriend gaining control of his guild, there was one thing he knew for certain.

Laxus, staring deeply down at the woman, insisted simply, "Damn right you are."

"Dragon-"

"You are." And he moved to squeeze her shoulders instead, shaking her a bit, even. As if she needed the fact punctuated. "No one cares about this place as much as you. No one. No one could ever give up their life for the guild. Not the abstract concept of the guild, but the literal guildhall. You take care of the hall. And all the people in it. You put that time in. And if someone tries to come for it, you would absolutely kick their ass. You weren't just the best option; you were the only option."

She blinked some, Mira did, before giggling and singing his name in a high pitch, "Laxus."

"Shh." And he glanced behind himself, at the door, "We're not exactly completely alone here, you know."

"It's my office." Reaching up, she poked at his cheek, the one with the zigzag scar trailing down it. "And you've been away for too long. Being all mushy."

"I am not." And he grabbed her finger then, tightly, as his gaze turned harder. "I'm telling you it because it's true. Not because I love you. But because you're-"

"Aw, Lax." She continued to speak in that singsong voice that grated on his nerves. "You love me?"

He merely shook his head before remarking, "You're going to make a great master, Mirajane." Releasing her shoulders, he added, "I mean it."

Mira dropped her own arms, nodding a bit as she told him, "I hope to be. I really do. I...know it's kind a silly, and I don't want to hurt your feelings or anything because I know when you were a kid you did it a lot more than me, but… I kinda dreamed about it. A few times. And when Master approached me with the opportunity… This is what I want to do. And what I'm going to start putting my all into. So… If it's going to eat at you or something, that I'm the Master now, then-"

"What are you talking about?"

"Laxus." And her tone was much the same as his now. Serious and fully separated from all its former joy. "I'm not stupid."

"I'd never say that you were."

"Things get...hard. When a woman had power over a man." She shook her head a bit. "And this is already all tangled up. With hiding our… I just don't want this to end badly. If you're going to have a problem with me being the Master-"

"My," he reminder her, "Master."

"I'm being serious."

"So am I." Laxus took a breath before shrugging his shoulders some and remarking, "You're the Master now. That's great. But that doesn't mean that you're not still Mira, huh? That we should just throw this away without even given it a shot. You don't want this to end badly, but I don't want it to fucking end. Ever. No matter what it's like."

That time, it was into his chest after throwing herself at him, that she muttered while his arms tightly wrapped around her, "Mushy."

"Hardly." Still, he bowed his head some, to rest it against the white locks that welcomed it. "It'll be easier anyhow, huh? Now that you're master?"

"How do you figure?"

"Can cut out any time. Don't gotta stick around till closing. Really, you run this place like Gramps, you mostly just gotta sit about a few hours a week and then can do whatever you want the rest of the time."

"If it doesn't hurt your feelings," she replied as she pulled back some to look up at him. "I actually might love the guild more than you. Just a bit."

Blinking, Laxus thought for a moment before releasing her so he could shrug.

"I'll win you over," he assured her simply. "Having known all of the former Masters of this place, even if only in story, I can assure you, it grates on you eventually."

"I know most of your previous dates, dragon." She shrugged in turn. "I hear you do the same thing."

"You're not just a date, demon." He even smiled from the thought. "You're a lot more."

But they couldn't hide out forever. She'd brought him there under a specific pretense and, unfortunatley for Laxus, that meant he had to lug a huge box of his grandfather's things back to the old geezer's empty house.

Only, he was surprised to find it wasn't really that empty at all.

"What are you doing here, old man?" Laxus griped when he'd been scared half to death when, upon entering the seemingly empty house, a dark energy had fallen over him in the hallway. Turning on his heel, Laxus was equally glad and annoyed to find it to be his grandfather.

"What am I doing here?" Makarov, even in his ever advancing age, could look quite fearsome when the time called for it. And being disturbed from a late afternoon nap, only to find someone rooting around in your hall closet, was exactly that sort of time. "What are you doing here?"

It was with a sneer that his grandson answered this, turning back to the closet as he shoved the box of things Mira had given him inside.

"Direct orders," Laxus replied simply. "From the Master."

Makarov took in a breath then, as he was prepared to remark that he'd made no such order, but he was quickly reminded that while he might not have, it mattered little.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, Gramps." Finished up with the box, he shut it before turning to face the man. "It is."

Huffing a bit, it wasn't with annoyance really that he shook his head, but rather in agreement as he added, "She wasn't who I always pictured as fully taking over, but… Perhaps, one day, if something calls her elsewhere, she'll see you fit to take her place."

Laxus snored. "Don't want it."

"For now," his grandfather clarified, but Laxus only shook his head.

"Just see my life in other ways now," he explained as, finished it seemed, he turned to head out. "It's not all just about who's in charge, you know. It's about a lot more."

He eyed him some, Makarov did, as his grandson seemed intent to leave. Calling out to him, he questioned, "You think you can serve under her? Boy?"

"Yeah." Laxus didn't even need to think about it. "I really think I can."