#yeah the roles get flipped around a bit

[goldnhourwrites]

ok sorry to reveal my marvel origins but. captain america winter soldier "i'm with you 'till the end of the line" scene but it's vi and jinx's "always with you, sis" in episode 9

tell me these are not the same characters

[sematarygirls]

        BOYFRIEND!RAFE x ANXIOUS!READER

WARNINGS .ᐟ protected p in v, oral (f! receiving), established relationship, loss of virginity, reader and rafe being dorks, slow sex, these bitches do not shut up, reader is very insecure about her body and of course, has anxiety

NOTES .ᐟ this is representation for all my anxious and insecure girlies who giggle and blurt out random stuff when they're nervous (aka me)

You and Rafe were both on his bed making out, him laying underneath you as you straddled his waist—his idea, of course, citing that it would be more comfortable for both of you that way. "You better just have something in your pocket," you jokingly mumbled against his lips, feeling something distinctly hard and suspiciously close to his dick pressing against you.

You had a tendency to make a lot of dumb jokes and laugh when you were nervous, blurting out whatever came to mind before you could decide against it, which was ironic since overthinking was a second nature to you. You were shy and got nervous a lot, especially around Rafe. He was your first boyfriend and the hottest guy you'd ever laid your eyes on, neither of which helping your nerves.

Rafe's hands slipped under your shirt to touch your bare skin, holding you firmly on his lap. "Wouldn't you like to know," his smirk was teasing as he pulled back from the kiss to peer up at you.

"Uh, yeah, that's kind of the whole point of asking," you also pulled back, sitting up as you smiled down at him. You liked it when Rafe went along with your stupid jokes, bantering with you to put you at ease. He never made you feel weird or awkward for using humor to cope with your anxiety.

"Well, if you must know, I'm packing heat," Rafe quipped with a mischievous grin, his grip on your hips tightening.

You gasped exageratedly, feigning shock. "You have a gun?" You knew very well what he meant, but when did that ever stop you from saying something stupid?

He snorted, his blue eyes shining with amusement. "Yeah, I have a gun in my pants because that makes so much sense," he replied sarcastically, finding your nervous humor endearing.

"Okay, Mr. Sassypants," you rolled your eyes playfully, your palms resting on his chest as a smile pulled at your lips.

"Mr. Sassypants?" Rafe repeated, raising an eyebrow. "You know, that's not a very nice thing to call your loving, patient, and amazingly sexy boyfriend."

"Well, I can't help that my loving, patient, and amazingly sexy boyfriend is such a diva," you grinned, feeling his chest rise and fall, his heart beating steadily under your fingertips.

"Diva?" He gasped in mock offense, his hands sliding up your sides. "I'll show you a diva." In one swift motion, he flipped your positions, pinning you beneath him.

You laughed, looking up at him with a smile despite the anxiety gnawing at you. He had a way of putting your mind at ease with just one look, and the soothing circles he was rubbing on your skin were definitely helping. He stared back at you, his gaze softening. He loved your smile and the way your eyes sparkled when you laughed. Truthfully, he loved everything about you, even your innate ability to make everything a tad bit awkward.

His eyes searched yours intently, searching for any signs that you wanted him to stop. Noticing his serious turn of demeanor and his intense gaze, you felt your cheeks heat up. "Oh, cmon, don't get all serious on me now," you rolled your eyes, trying to lighten the mood.

"Well, I take my role as your boyfriend very seriously," he grinned, leaning down to kiss your neck. "And, it wouldn't be very boyfriendly of me to let you go on without knowing the wonders of sex."

"Oh, right, of course, it would be for my benefit," you giggled, your heart racing at the idea of being intimate with him. You weren't exactly against the idea, but you were still a virgin, and the idea of being with someone like that was undoubtedly nerve-racking.

You could feel Rafe smile against your skin, his hands sliding farther up your sides. "Uh huh, always thinking of what's best for my girl."

"Wow, who knew you were so selfless?" You giggled, biting your lip as he nipped as your skin. Your fingers slotted into his hair as he continued to kiss and suck at your neck, his hot breath fanning against your heated skin.

"I'm a saint, what can I say?" He mumbled, his tone teasing. He was being careful, trying to reassure you without actually saying anything because he knew you'd prefer to keep things as lighthearted as possible to make you forget about how serious the moment actually was. He could tell you were nervous, and he was determined to make you as comfortable as possible.

"Uh huh, a saint," you smiled as he slowly, tentatively pushed your shirt up your body. He was giving you time to tell him to stop, maybe even slap him if you wanted to, but you didn't. As much as you felt like you were going to die on the spot at the idea of him seeing you naked, you trusted him, and you wanted this.

"I am but a humble servant of my sexy girlfriend," he pulled back from your neck to search your eyes again, pausing for a moment before your shirt revealed your bra. You gave him a small nod, and he smiled, tugging the shirt over your head as you leaned up a little and lifted your arms to help him. He threw the shirt aside, eyes roaming your skin, as if memorizing every detail. "God, you're beautiful," he breathed out.

"Shut up," you said bashfully, your heart beating faster under his intense gaze. There was a voice in the back of your head telling you that you weren't pretty enough for him, that he would hate how you looked, and that was why you preferred to fill the silence with easy jokes and stupid quips. It made it easier to silence that nagging part of you that thought you weren't good enough for him.

"No, I mean it," he insisted, his fingers slowly tracing the lace edging of your bra. "You're like, way too pretty to be real. I mean, look at you." There was a sincerity to his words that he couldn't fake, an edge of awe and pure unbridled devotion that made your head spin.

The way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered, the way he touched you like he worshipped every inch of you—it was all overwhelming in the best possible way. It had you scrambling in your mind to say something, anything, even if that something was a dumb dick joke.

"I bet you're thinking about saying something stupid, aren't you?" he asked, a knowing smirk on his face as he leaned down to pepper kisses over your collarbones and down the swell of your cleavage.

"I never say anything stupid," you breathed out, as he kissed the skin that wasn't hidden behind your bra. It made your heart flutter that he knew you so well, but it also made you realize how awfully predictable you were.

"Uh huh and I'm the Queen of England," he retorted sarcastically, reaching up to slide one of your bra straps down your shoulder, kissing the bare sliver of skin that was revealed.

"Oh my God, you are?" You gasped, his remark loading you with the perfect ammunition to say something stupid. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, your highness."

"Mmm, flattery will get you everywhere," he murmured, his breath hot against your skin as he continued to kiss and touch you, slipping your other strap off. He slowly unhooked your bra, his eyes meeting yours as he paused, asking for silent permission. You bit the inside of your cheek nervously before nodding.

He pulled your bra off almost instantly, his gaze sweeping over your bare chest. You felt so vulnerable beneath his gaze, resisting the urge to cover yourself. "Okay, your turn, pretty boy," you swiftly said, trying to ease your nerves and figuring you might be a little more comfortable if you weren't the only half-naked one.

"Yes, ma'am," He smirked, leaning back to pull his own shirt off, revealing his muscular chest. You couldn't help but stare, eyes roaming over his abs and the way his muscles flexed as he tossed his shirt aside. He settled back over you, his hands sliding up your sides. "Better?"

"You are annoyingly hot," you huffed, finding it completely unfair that someone as perfect as him could even exist, let alone be on top of you right now.

"Aw, you're just saying that because you want in my pants," he teased, his hands sliding up your sides to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples. "But I can't blame you, I am pretty irresistible." He leaned down, swallowing the small gasp you let out at his touch as he captured your mouth in a deep, heated kiss.

"That's slander," you mumbled into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck and curling your fingers into his hair as you pulled him closer.

"Mmm, then sue me," he murmured against your lips before trailing kisses along your jaw and down your neck, slowly making his way to your chest.

Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his soft lips on your skin. He was ridiculously skilled with his mouth, knowing exactly how and where to kiss you to drive you crazy. "Yknow what, maybe I will," you retorted breathlessly, your chest rising and falling a little faster.

"I think we can come to some sort of settlement out of court," He paused, his hot breath washing over your skin before he slowly, deliberately wrapped his lips around one of your peaks, swirling his tongue around it. "What do you think?"

Your lips parted at the feeling, intaking a sharp breath of air. "Uh, yeah, yknow that could work maybe," you grinned, your fingers gently tugging at his hair as he ravished your tits with attention.

"Mmm, I thought it might," he hummed with a cocky grin, switching to give equal attention to your other breast, your back arching ever so slightly, urging him closer. He smirked against your skin, making his way lower and leaving a trail of wet kisses in his wake. His hands slid down your sides to your hips, fingers curling around the waistband of your pants.

"Hey, wait, I don't want to be naked first," you protested, only half joking. You would rather die than be fully naked in front of him while he sits there with his clothes on.

"Oh, trust me, I have no intention of leaving my pants on any longer than necessary," He assured you with a mischievous grin, slowly unbuttoning your jeans, his knuckles brushing against your skin.

"Yeah, 'cause you're a freak," you grinned, moving on to the making fun of your boyfriend portion of the program in an attempt to soothe the pit of nausea in your stomach. You were kind of scared, not that you wanted to be lame and admit that.

"Hey, I resent that," He protested, but his tone conveyed the opposite message as he tugged your jeans and underwear down your legs in one smooth, expert motion, his gaze never leaving yours. "I'm just enthusiastic, that's all."

"Enthusiastically a whore," you snorted, letting your head fall back, staring at the ceiling. You'd really rather not see yourself naked right now, not with the amount of anxiety already coursing through your veins. You did not need a reminder of what Rafe was seeing.

"Whore?" He teased, his fingers dancing along your inner thighs. "I think you mean an amazing boyfriend who loves you and wants to make you feel good."

You hummed thoughtfully. "Uh, no, I'm pretty sure I mean whore," you grinned, reluctantly looking down at him despite yourself.

"Well, this whore is about to rock your world," He smirked, slowly trailing kisses up your inner thigh, gripping your hips. "Just relax and let me do all the work." His voice was low and seductive, his intentions clear.

"You're such an idiot," you laughed at his cheesy choice of words, a little nervous that the witty banter would have to be put on hold. He can't exactly respond to your sarcastic remarks with his mouth occupied.

He hummed, his breath hot against your core. Your breathing picked up, and you were unsure whether it was anticipation or if you were on the verge of a panic attack.

He slowly dragged his tongue along your slit, groaning at your taste on his tongue and the subsequent gasp that fell from your lips, making his painfully hard cock twitch in his jeans. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading them further apart and opening you up to him. He had dreamed of this moment, imagined this exact scenario about a half a dozen times as he got himself off, and now that it was actually happening, he was going to relish every moment.

He began to eat you out like a man starved, his tongue delving deep inside your tight heat, familiarizing himself with every inch of you. His nose nudged at your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through you that pulled a low whine from your throat. Your fingers threaded into his hair, moaning at the unfamiliar pleasure.

His fingers replaced his tongue, his mouth moving up to the sensitive bundle of nerves and sucking it into his mouth, determined to send you over the edge. He pushed his fingers deep inside and curled them, finding that spot that made your back arch and your hips buck against his mouth.

"Rafe," his name left your lips a breathy whimper as your head fell back against his pillows. Rafe was no stranger to having women under him, writhing and moaning his name, but something about it being you made him crazy. It took all his self-control not to blow his load in his pants right there and then.

He redoubled his efforts, eager to make you cum, rubbing that sweet spot inside you with ruthless precision and sucking on your clit, his tongue swirling around your sensitive nub. Another moan fell from your lips, your grip on his hair bordering on painful as you felt your orgasm wash over you, your legs practically shaking at the intense pleasure.

He groaned as he felt you spasm around his fingers, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. He slowly pulled away, grinning as he took in your dazed expression. He carefully slipped his fingers from your quivering hole, bringing them to his mouth. He couldn't help the moan that rumbled low in his throat as he tasted you on his tongue. God, you were perfect.

His eyes flicked up to yours as his tongue darted out to lick his lips clean. "Good, huh?" He asked, his tone smug. He knew it had been good, but he wanted to hear you say it.

"I'm gonna slap that stupid look off your face," you playfully rolled your eyes, your skin practically burning up with embarrassment.

"I think that would take our case from a civil lawsuit to a criminal assault charge," he grinned, calling back to your previous joke about taking him to court. He positioned himself over you again to press his lips against yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

"It's my first offense and a misdemeanor," you mumbled into the kiss, cupping his face. "Worst I'll get is a fine, so... totally worth it."

"Okay, smartass," he pulled away, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, gazing down at you lovingly.

"Just saying," you smiled softly up at him, his hair falling into his face and his blue eyes sparkling. He really loved you, and it was evident just from the way he looked at you. He'd never felt anything like it before. He loved you so much it terrified him.

But, of course, you had to ruin the moment of peace because shutting up was not something you were wired to do, especially not in the face of such charged silence. "Your little friend is poking me again," you blurted out the words before you could stop yourself. Little friend? You really couldn't have come up with anything else?

Rafe couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips as he rocked his hips against you, making you gasp softly. "He's just happy to see you." His eyes crinkled at the corners as he grinned down at you, his fingers absently tracing along your side.

"Okay, well, can you tell him I don't really know him like that, so maybe he should calm down a little bit," you couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but you loved it, and you loved him. He understood you in a way you never thought you'd be understood by anyone.

"He says he's not planning on staying a stranger for much longer," he smirked, his hips rolling against yours.

"This is actually so stupid," you giggled, your hand covering your mouth as you laughed beneath him.

"Oh, now it's stupid?" He rolled his eyes, a genuine smile tugging at his lips. "You're the one who started it."

"Shut up," you smiled, leaning up to kiss him. "Okay, okay, you can... start now, I guess," you said awkwardly. There was only so long that you could stall with stupid dick jokes. Besides, you felt a little bad that he had been so patient and undoubtedly, extremely hard.

"About time," he murmured with faux annoyance, his voice low as he fiddled with his belt buckle and pulled it through the loops, tossing it aside before popping the button on his jeans and slowly unzipping them.

You sucked in a breath, trying to calm your nerves as the sound of him pulling his jeans off seemed to echo through the room. You wanted this. You knew you did, but you couldn't help the pit of fear in your stomach.

He paused, feeling your body tense beneath him as you took a deep breath, a sign he knew all too well. "Hey, look at me," he coaxed softly, cupping your face and stroking your cheek with his thumb. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to do. We can wait if you're not ready. Just tell me to stop, and I will, no questions asked, no hard feelings. We can just forget all about it," he reassured you.

Your heart fluttered as you heard your boyfriend's words, meeting his gaze and seeing the sincerity behind his eyes. "No, I- I want to. I'm just... scared, yknow," you bit your lip nervously, mentally kicking yourself. You always seemed to be scared. There probably wasn't a single thing in the world that you weren't scared of.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's okay," he soothed, pressing gentle kisses to your face, your neck, your collarbone—anywhere he could reach. "There's nothing wrong with being scared. It's your first time. If you weren't scared, that would be a little concerning."

You laughed softly at his words. "You just make sure you wrap it up. I don't know where you've been," you joked. "Safe sex is great sex as the Lil Wayne once wisely said."

He chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Lil Wayne, huh? I didn't know he moonlighted as a sex ed teacher." He reached into his bedside table, pulling out a foil packet and waving it in front of your face. "But don't worry, I'm always prepared."

"Jesus, that's a lot of condoms," you said, peering into his drawer and seeing way more condoms than you realistically thought one person would need. "You are a whore of massive proportions. Like, literally a menace to the female population."

"Oh, hush," he grinned, tearing open the packet and rolling the latex down over his length. "I bought them in bulk. You know, for... emergencies," He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, leaning back down to press kisses to your skin once more.

"Eugh," you giggled, your face scrunching up in disgust. "I genuinely do not want to know what a sex emergency is."

"Hey, a guy's gotta be prepared, okay?" He murmured against your neck, his breath warm. "Now, are you going to keep talking, or are you going to let me kiss you and calm you the hell down?"

"Yo, I am literally so calm," you rolled your eyes, lying through your teeth in the name of comedy and also not sounding like the total little loser virgin you were. "So calm and so chill. Literally have never been calmer or chiller in my life."

"Uh-huh," he hummed, clearly unconvinced as he pressed a soft kiss to your jaw, his fingers slowly trailing down your side, his touch gentle. "Because nothing says 'calm and chill' like sex jokes and rambling like you're on speed."

"Well, I can't help that I'm the funniest person alive," you argued, the realization dawning on you that you were naked, and he was naked, which meant there was only so many more sex jokes you could make before the sex actually commenced.

"You're not even in the top five funniest people I know," he teased, his fingers reaching your hip as he slowly pulled you closer, the heat of his body pressing against yours.

"Oh, you got jokes, huh?" You grinned, nervously giggling when you felt his tip nudge at your entrance. "You better take that back if you wanna get laid tonight."

"I think I'll stick with my original statement," he said, his voice low and husky as he pressed forward, the head of his dick pushing into you slowly as he rubbed soothing circles on your hip. "You're just not funny enough to make the cut, sweetheart."

You sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth, wincing at the painful sensation. You grabbed his bicep for support, digging your nails into his arm. "Liar," you joked weakly, your chest heaving as you breathed through the intrusion.

"Shh, just breathe," he whispered against your neck, his voice low and soothing as he paused, letting you adjust to the foreign feeling. "You're doing so good, baby. You're taking it like a champ."

"Okay, don't call me champ while you're inside me," you grimaced, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted as you slowly adjusted to having him inside you.

"You okay, baby?" He asked softly, pushing the slightest bit further into you as he examined your reaction closely.

"Oh, yeah, just peachy," you said sarcastically. The pain was gradually starting to fade, making the whole thing more enjoyable by the second. Though, the pressure between your thighs was intense.

"Mhm, you're a real ray of sunshine," he chuckled softly, pushing the rest of the way into you, his body shuddering as he bottomed out. He was as deep as he could go, his hips flush against yours.

You gasped as he pressed all the way into you, your grip on his bicep tightening. "You're gonna look like you got mauled by a lion after this," you panted out, apologetic for the involuntary response.

"I'd wear that badge of honor proudly," he said, his voice thick with amusement as he slowly began to move, his hips rolling against yours in a gentle, soothing rhythm. "Now, shut up and let me make love to you."

"Don't say 'make love' either. That's so gross," you giggled softly, a breathy moan falling from your lips as he set a slow, pleasurable pace.

"Then what would you prefer I call it?" He murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as he continued his steady movements, the friction building between your bodies. "'Coitus'? 'Intercourse'? 'Fucking'?" He punctuated each word with a sharp thrust of his hips.

You moaned, your head falling back against the pillows and brows pinching in pleasure. Okay, you were definitely starting to see what all the fuss was about. "Let's just not refer to what's happening right now as anything at all."

"Mhm, I can work with that," he hummed, his pace picking up slightly as he felt you start to relax more, your body welcoming his thrusts. "Just focus on how good it feels, baby. Let me take care of you."

He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours and kissing you deeply as he continued to fuck you with a pace that demonstrated his love and devotion to you. He never thought he would be one for slow, romantic sex, but he didn't think he was into a lot of things before he met you. You had a way of making him discover things about himself he was completely clueless to.

As he kissed you, he slowly shifted his hips, changing the angle of his thrusts to hit that particularly sensitive spot inside you. He felt you tense up, a sharp gasp escaping your lips into the kiss, and he smiled against your mouth. "You like that, huh?"

"You're such an ass," you grinned, your fingers curling into his hair, back arching into him as his tip continued to hit that spongy spot inside you, the pressure low in your abdomen building.

"Maybe so, but you love it," he smirked against your mouth, his hands gripping your hips as he increased his pace, his hips snapping forward in a steady rhythm. "And you're gonna come for me again, baby. Aren't you?"

Your mouth fell open in pleasure, your breath hot against his lips. "uh huh," you nodded, your eyes fluttering shut. He was a cocky motherfucker, but he was hot and he put up with your shit, so it was only fair you put up with his in return.

"That's my girl," he purred, one hand sliding down to rub tight circles on your clit as he continued his relentless pace. "Come on, baby. Let me feel you. I want to watch you fall apart for me."

You gasped sharply at the added stimulation, his name leaving your lips in a whine as you tensed around him, sent over the edge for the second time.

He groaned as he felt your walls clench around him, the sensation of you practically choking his dick sending him into his own release. "Fuck, you feel so good," he panted, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself into the condom with a low moan of your name.

Your walls pulsed around him as you slowly came down from your high, relaxing into the mattress. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath, your whole body on fire and coated in a thin sheen of sweat.

He collapsed on top of you with a satisfied hum, peppering gentle kisses along your neck and collarbone as he softened inside you. "I love you, you know that?"

"Good 'cause otherwise this would be pretty awkward," you laughed breathlessly, gently raking your nails over his scalp soothingly. "But, seriously, I love you too," you added quietly after a beat of silence.

tags .ᐟ   @starkeysprincess / @cometmultiverse / @iheartjjmaybnk / @all4l0vee / @kissesfrmriri / @xoxohoneymoongirl / @bradshawed /

[somnoir]

Gotham's newest Crime Lord - part 3

Part 2 | Masterpost

"You know your way around the city." Dan commented, eyes narrowed once he realizes that Kitty and Johnny adapted a little too well to Gotham. Going to places even he didn't know existed, exploring and giving them intel he never realized was relevant. They knew history of Gotham in a way a local would. 

Johnny shrugged, turning back to Kitty who welcomed Ember with a bright smile. The two were squealing, talking about how they were going to help mess with Firefly after burning down a well-loved studio down town. 

For Dan, he wasn't going to intrude too much on his former rogues but... "You're from Gotham. Both of you." 

Johnny twitched, watching as Shadow moved to play with Elle in the air. 

"Yeah, we’re not too sure if our folks are still kickin’, but Kitty and me took off after they flipped over our thing. This place still gives me the heebie-jeebies, but hey, you guys are here. Gotham’s cool these days with all the furries and rogues runnin’ around." Johnny laughed, his cocky nature still burning bright, even when he looked almost melancholic at the memory of this place. 

No ghost was truly comfortable in their hometown, whether they died there or not. This was where they were born, where their lives began. 

"I see..." Dan mumbled, glancing to the space where Danny was usually in. His younger brother was off doing kingly duties again, slumped by work and the Observants pestering him about shit. 

There's a quiet knock on his door and Jeremy was poking his head into the room again. The ghosts didn't even care, continuing to be visible and floating around. Discomfort and a bit of fear was clear on the man's face but he turned to Dante with as much courage as he could muster. 

"Boss, we've got a lead on the missing kids." 

Ah, yes. The recent disappearances of children. He doesn't know where they go, what happens to them. All he knows is that children were picked of the streets and never to be seen again. 

"Someone's been takin' kids?" Kitty grimaced, not minding how Jeremy shuddered. "Dan, dear, darling! Send me and Johnny. We know this city better than Batman and his little birdies."

Again, Dan sighed. "Gimme a minute, Kitty. Not enough information." He grunts, turning to Jeremy to hand him the report. 

"Anything else?"

"Well... About the Bats..."

"They snoopin' around again?" 

"Trynna sniff out Phantom." Jeremy shrugs. "Red Hood's been pretty active. Heard he's been wonderin' about Phantom not visitin' the kids last week." 

"Thanks Jeremy. Tell Marigold I said hi." 

"Will do, boss!" 

Once Jeremy left, the other ghosts were swarming Dan like bees. Their eyes glittering with anticipation, excitement, and vengeance. It felt strange for them to pay attention, to follow him. Danny's always felt like the better leader, struggling and suffering in the role yet rising above it all. That was why he was the king now. 

"Alright, let's get to work. Most of these kids have one thing in common. Their skills. Flexible, acrobatic, and have some sort of combat training. Usually in self defence." Dan plugged in the USB into his laptop, projecting the screen on to the tv. "The latest disappearance is Layla Smithson. Fourteen. Gymnast and was sent to take taekwondo classes by her parents. Before that was Evan Chavez. Another gymnast but was also known to get into multiple fights."

"So whoever is takin' the kiddies, they go after the ones with pretty good skills." Ember hummed, turning to Kitty and then nudging her. "You've got anything to say about that?" 

"Well... Maybe." Johnny shrugs too. 

"Ooh! What about that nursery rhyme every Gothamites gets to listen. Y'know. About the court."

Dan frowned. "What court?" 

"The court of owls!" Kitty grinned, "Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time, ruling Gotham from a shadowy perch, behind granite and lime. They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed, speak not a whispered word of them or they'll send the Talon for your head." 

"Who the fuck uses that kind of shit for a nursery rhyme?" Dan scowled, but considered the possibility. "Any idea if they're real."

"Very." Johnny warned, "When Kitty and I died, we came back here a couple of times. Explored the place and tried to dig up secrets that would have killed us if we were livin'. One of 'em was the court. A secret society of a bunch off rich bastards."

"Johnny," Dan warned, knowing that something was still being kept from him. 

"There's another thing..." Johnny hesitated but Kitty took his hand and continued. 

Kitty grimaced, "The Court of Owls has a bunch of soldiers. They got this chemical they use on people, turnin’ ‘em into their own assassins. From what me and Johnny dug up a while back, these assassins were trained when they were kids. They call 'em Talons."

Dan wanted to yell, scream. Burn down the cursed with it's cursed bricks. Fuck. Fuck. Was the world always so shitty? 

"You're telling me... There's an entire secret society that uses chemicals to turn children into assassins?" 

Children.... Fucking children. They were weaponizing kids!

Ancients, he might just commit mass genocide again. 

"Alright. Alright. We leave the living people out of this. The court? Their talons? I want all of you prepared. I'm gonna contact Danny to drag Skulker and Wulf's asses here immediately."

Elle grinned, "GRAB AMORPHO TOO! We're gonna need his help if we want to dismantle the court."

The office is vacated quickly, with Elle dragging Ember and Kitty for girl time and Johnny runs off with shadow. Dan is left alone, frustrated at the new information before he does his best to summon his brother, the very annoyed ghost king that appears before him in full royal regalia. 

"A bit busy, Dan. Still tryin' to fight the laughing magician to help with getting rid of the Anti-Ecto Acts. Constantine is running around trying to destroy the GIW now." 

Dan snorted. He knew about John Constantine. The crazy motherfucker who's soul fragments were scattered around and Danny had to deal with the paperwork and mission to collect them all. 

"I know, yeah, sorry. I get that's important. But we've got a situation here."

"What would that be?"

"Secret society of rich fruitloops that are worse than Vlad. They're kidnapping children and making them into brainless assassins."

Immediately, the room grows colder than the far frozen. Danny's eyes are as green as they could ever be, but his pupils were an icy blue that would have made Frostbite shudder. 

"What do you need?"

"Skulker, Wulf, and Amorpho." 

"I'll send them on your way. They'll be here within 3 hours." Danny sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "I'll finish up things on my end to help."

"Sure thing, twerp."

"Fuck you." Fondly. 

"Fuck you too." Affectionately.

"OH! Your revenant was looking for you." 

"THE SEXY RED HOOD WAS LOOKING FOR ME?!" 

It was an entire week of silence. Of Wraith not doing anything at all. Even the rogues felt apprehensive to act on anything after Wraith's new subordinates started popping up to pester them. The reports were the same. Distorted footage, meta-human abilities, and a ridiculous amount of chaos. 

Apparently, Two face has waged war on one of them, named Ember. Riddler was also ready to throw hands with Specter. And then Harley and Ivy were hunting down a couple names Kitty and Johnny 13. Why they were named that, none of them knew. But considering Wraith and Phantom's titles, the entire group was Ghost themed. The majority of Gotham have taken to calling them the Ghosts. 

But then...

"Bruce... Get a look at this." Barbara's voice shook, horrified as she stared at the screen. Majority of the family was already in the cave, preparing to patrol once more. But their eyes were drawn to the screen. They all froze, struggling to fathom what the fuck was it they were looking. 

"Holy shit." 

Everyone was frozen, staring at the clear, untampered screen. 

Bruce sucked in a deep breath, reading the bloody message written on the wall of... He couldn't recognize it properly. "Farewell to the Court of Owls that once watched from their shadowy perch. Their talons covered in the blood of children they once purge. Farewell to their judge, the parliament says goodbye. To Talons, to owls, the ghosts says hi." 

And right beside the message was the hanging body of what Bruce recognized was the Judge of the Court of Owls. 

The Court of was in ruins. 

"Holy shit. HOLY SHIT!" Tim screeched, almost stumbling as he stared at the morbid message. "The Wraith and his ghosts took out the fucking court."

There was a loud rev of an engine, momentarily dragging their attention to Jason who was hurriedly getting of his bike and taking of his helmet. "Fuck, you've already seen it."

"You saw it in real life?! Where the fuck is that? The location is distorted but the entire thing is being broadcasted to the entirety of Gotham." 

"There are two of 'em. That one's on the clocktower."

Barbara snapped her head towards him, "MY clocktower?!" 

"Sorry 'bour that Barbie. But it got the job done for them, all of Gotham know about the court now."

Bruce grimaced, "And the other location?" 

"Arkham... The Talon is the one being hanged up there. The message is shorter: Bye-Bye owls. Shouldn't have messed with the dead." Jason clicked his tongue, "That's either about the fact that the court has been messing with the dead or it's cause Wraith's group is called the Ghosts." 

Jason shook his head, knowing for the fact that he'd have to track down Phantom soon. His eyes turned towards Dick, who stared at the screen as if a burden was just freed from him. Jason thinks it has. 

They had found out about the Court a little while ago, then found out about Dick's situation with them. How the circus he grew up in was one of the facilities that groomed Talons. How Dick was supposed to be recruited as one when his parents died. 

"Dick?" Jason murmured, gently taking Dick's hand. The other man jolted, his domino mask hiding whatever emotions there was in his eyes. 

"Little Wing..." 

"C'mon. Let's go grab some of Alfred's cookies. The rest of the family can deal with this." Jason quickly hurried his older brother out the cave, urging him to change our of his suit. 

Dick, once again, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders, struggled to understand that his nightmare that was the Court was finally dead. Most likely slaughtered by the hands of a new crime lord, a rogue that seemed desperate to keep children safe. He held the tea tightly, closing his eyes as Jason sat opposite to him. 

The court was dead. 

Talon was dead. 

"I'm gonna go look for Phantom in a bit." Jason hummed, trying to appear comforting to Dick. 

And the image of the Judge of the court's body hanging from the clocktower flashes in his head again. 

"Jason." Dick whispered, "Get me a meeting with Wraith."

"What?" Jason blinked, "Dickie, no. Wraith might seem like a pretty nice guy with how he's protecting the kids, but he's still..." He paused, "He's still like me." 

"I need to meet him, Jaybird. I need to confirm that the Court is gone for good. He's the only one who can do that for me." 

"Why would Phantom even let you meet him?"

Dick frowned, sucking in a deep breath before taking Jason's hands. 

"Tell him that Nightwing was supposed to be a Talon."

Part 4 | Masterpost

[xo100]

Baking cookies pt. 2- LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: Lando confesses his feelings for Y/N after years of friendship and raising Nina together. They share a tender moment, embracing the possibility of something more.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1035

previous part ౨ৎ next

୨ৎ

It had been a few days since the cookie-baking afternoon, but Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling of Lando’s hand brushing against hers or the way his voice softened when he thanked her. She had thought about it far more than she cared to admit. Sure, they had always been close, but something about that day felt different—like the air between them had shifted ever so slightly.

-

Today, she found herself back at Lando’s place. This time, it was a quieter evening. No baking, no rushing around. Just a casual dinner with Lando and Nina, who was currently playing in the living room, her laughter echoing through the house as she entertained herself with her toy cars.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Lando’s voice brought her back to the present. He was leaning against the kitchen island, his blue eyes fixed on her with that familiar playful glint.

Y/N shook her head, smiling as she stirred the sauce simmering on the stove. “You’d need more than a penny for these thoughts, Norris.”

“Oh? That intriguing, huh?” he teased, moving to stand beside her, close enough that their shoulders brushed again.

She chuckled, trying to focus on the cooking rather than the way his presence made her stomach flutter. “Maybe.”

“Tell me,” he nudged her gently, his voice dropping slightly.

Y/N bit her lip, keeping her eyes on the pot. She had never been great at hiding things from Lando, and now was no exception. But before she could respond, a small, excited voice interrupted them.

“Daddy! Auntie Y/N!” Nina called from the living room. “Come see my race track!”

Lando grinned, giving Y/N a look that said we’ll continue this later, before he walked out to join Nina. Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, her mind spinning as she finished preparing dinner.

The evening passed in a comfortable rhythm. They ate together, sharing stories about their day, with Nina animatedly telling them all about her adventures with her toys. Y/N and Lando exchanged playful banter like they always did, but the undercurrent of something more was still there—quiet but impossible to ignore.

After dinner, Nina’s energy finally started to wane. She climbed onto Y/N’s lap, snuggling into her with her favorite stuffed animal clutched in one hand. “I’m sleepy,” she mumbled, her eyes drooping.

“Looks like someone’s ready for bed,” Y/N said softly, running a hand through Nina’s curls.

Lando smiled at the sight, his gaze lingering on the two of them for a moment before he spoke. “I’ll get her tucked in.”

He lifted Nina into his arms, and Y/N watched as he carried his daughter upstairs, the gentle way he spoke to her making Y/N’s heart swell. Lando had always been a natural with Nina, but watching him now, it was clear just how much he had grown into his role as her father. He was thoughtful, patient, and always put her first. It was one of the many reasons Y/N had fallen for him, even if she hadn’t fully admitted that to herself yet.

By the time Lando returned, Y/N was sitting on the couch, absently flipping through her phone. He plopped down beside her with a sigh, his arm casually draped along the back of the couch. “She’s out like a light.”

“She had a busy day,” Y/N smiled, setting her phone down.

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the soft glow of the living room lights casting shadows on the walls. Then, Lando spoke, his voice quiet. “About earlier…”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat. She had been wondering if he’d bring it up. “Yeah?”

He turned slightly to face her, his expression more serious than usual. “I’ve been thinking… about you. About us.”

“Us?” Y/N’s voice was barely a whisper.

Lando nodded, his eyes searching hers. “You’ve always been there for me, for Nina. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you these past few years. And I’ve been wondering if maybe… there could be more between us. If you feel it too.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. The words she had been too afraid to say were now hanging in the air between them. She had always felt something more for Lando, but she had never wanted to risk their friendship—or complicate things for Nina.

But now, with him sitting so close, his eyes so sincere, Y/N realized she didn’t want to keep pretending anymore.

“I do,” she said softly, her heart racing. “I’ve felt it for a while.”

Lando’s face lit up with a smile, one that made Y/N’s heart soar. He reached out, gently taking her hand in his. “I’ve been wanting to say something for months, but I didn’t want to push you… or mess anything up.”

Y/N shook her head, her fingers tightening around his. “You’re not pushing me. I… I want this too. I want us.”

For a moment, they just sat there, hands intertwined, the weight of their unspoken feelings finally released. It was as if everything had fallen into place—like all the years of friendship, support, and love had led to this moment.

Lando leaned in slowly, his gaze flicking to her lips before meeting her eyes again. “Can I kiss you?”

Y/N smiled, her heart fluttering as she nodded. “Yes.”

With that, Lando closed the distance between them, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, tender kiss. It was gentle, unhurried, but filled with the promise of so much more. When they finally pulled apart, they were both smiling, their foreheads resting against each other’s.

“So,” Lando murmured, his voice still soft, “does this mean I can look forward to more cookies?”

Y/N laughed, lightly smacking his chest. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Yeah, but you love it,” he teased, his eyes twinkling.

“I guess I do,” Y/N admitted, her heart swelling with happiness.

As they sat there, the warmth of their newfound connection wrapping around them like a cozy blanket, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like this was where she was meant to be—by Lando’s side, with Nina, in this little family they had created together. And now, it wasn’t just a friendship anymore.

It was so much more.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it and that this was what you expected for part 2 if not let me know! If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

*:･ﾟtags; @barcelonaloverf1life @fanficweasley @obxstiles @missnxthingg

[robolvrr]

Love your writing soooo much. Could you make some sfw headcanons (and nsfw) if youre okay with it of conjunx (tfone) d-16 with his femme conjunx??? Also what do you think would be his ideal partner? Maybe someone shy and sweet or someone bolder to contrast him?? Would he ever want a family?? Hes so sweet i love him i cant stop ranting about him😭🤍

déjà vu ☆‿⁠｡✷

[ requests: 3/11 ]

d-16 x fem!conjux headcanons

warnings: nsfw under cut!

realistically, you're both miners. there isn't a lot of fraternization on shifts.. though every once in awhile, you catch his optics and he peels through the crowd (and shoves orion, too busy making kissy-faces and calling out embarrassing memories he's sure to pummel him for sharing), making efforts to get to know you.

d-16 is strong. mentally, emotionally, even his physique, is quite literally built for his role in all aspects. he's appreciative if you take care in yours and share that competence.

isn't judgemental over frames. while he is actually pretty charming and easy to speak with, he's not used to attention and doesn't even stop to think of the possibility.

of course - that was before you, that is. and this tug at his spark, that makes him ignore the cycles of grief, anxiety, fatigue and instead want to earn a bit more from you than a simple hello.

conjux aren't unknown, just a foreign concept for many of the uncogged. especially miners, due to the natural risk with the job. many had died and understandably, few were actually willing to grow close for this very reason.

it's not as if he hasn't weighed the decisions. a part of him is frustrated you smile at him because then he can't forget how his servos shake when you do.

in between short conversations - "what do you think about megatronus?" - "yeah, orion is kind of a glitch, but he means the best." - "oh. so you.. don't have someone waiting for you?"s, it's so obvious he wants you.

when you talk, he leans against the wall, his expression soft. because as violent as he can be, as grouchy or prickly his vocals edge, he wants be soft for you.

elita just shakes her head. he does pick up heavier gear and material around you, puffing his chest. offers you spare energon cubes even though it's digging into his rations.

d-16's love language is touch. he doesn't like it much but he initiates and if you're allowed to instead? then the unspoken is obvious. he may be... stubborn, at first, admitting his feelings. his actions do the talking.

i think he'd do well with a combination - someone who isn't as pessimistic, someone who can still encourage his hope to continue to burn. a little bantering never hurt anyone and coupled with attraction.. well. he's not as irritated with it as one might think.

while he thinks the idea of sparklings is something he may like in the future, he doesn't want to put any risk when he's still so low on the totem pole. if you bring it in passing he tries not to jump you. because while it's clear you two are intertwined, the idea of a part of him connecting with you and creating something new makes him dangerously possessive.

nsfw.

the first time wasn't full interfacing.

you explored the ridges of his empty cogcase, watching him twitch and grunt watching your smaller digits flirt along the sensitive surface.

he makes a sound, some cross between a sharp hiss and a moan that slows you down.

"did i do something wrong dee? you're. you're looking at me kinda intense."

"ffff... just be careful."

"i-i am being careful!"

"hng.. shut it."

even though he wants to flip you right off, pin and yank open your modesty paneling, he wants this to be slow. he wants to take all the time you can afford, because he has no clue when he'll get it again.

that's why even in your fidgeted affections, he keeps still. looks at you in the dark with haunting yellows, two beams of sunlight in his stare that make your plating hot.

he huffs out, slick with lubricants and glad he hit the refreshers before being undone. his servo finds your back, trailing up and down before hooking at your hip.

"e-enough. your turn."

when he slips underneath you, prevents even the slightest suggestion of a wriggle, you have to bite back a whine.

"are you sure? i. i haven't —"

"sit. this? is mine. you are mine. let me show how good you can feel."

that'll do it. he can be commanding but that appears moreso in the berth. it rubs a smug part of his ego that half the time you do what he asks anyways, without even thinking to snark.

"you're so wet.. that's it. open up for me."

quickly your panels open, valve quivering. and his intake is right there, dermas teasing against the pulsing throb of your need. because you don't only want him, you think as his glossa starts to lick — you need him or you might just offline.

maybe in another universe, your lover is a poet. he croons up to you, intimate, filthy, all the praise he never dares to say in public.

you can't see him. but there's a smile you feel pressed up when he finds your exterior node, takes it between his dentae. you relax, only for his glossa — which is thicker than you imagined — eagerly sinks further inside you.

who knew your dee was such a romantic.

remember when i said he wouldn't want to make sparklings? well, he certainly doesn't fuck like that's the case. he can be rough but in a slow, hard and relentless way. his strokes are deep, he never pulls until every drop of transfluid is mixing with your own. he likes when he can pick you up, still your strong and valiant dee, nestled inside when he thrusts up into you.

there's a liiiittle toxicity. just a smidgen. he has a lot to work on himself and some of that is his passiveness. so sometimes, his stress comes rearing its ugly head, or his silent jealousy is starting to flare, which ends with you having to recalibrate your stability and try not to go into stasis while he works that off.

robolvrr 2024.

[starkeyvhs]

no. 1 party anthem — chapter I

PAIRING: drew starkey x tennis player!reader 

CHAPTER WARNINGS: high school au; banter between drew and reader; one (1) suggestive joke (? if it even counts lol); reader and drew love frank ocean lol; minor swearing

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

EDITH SPEAKS: I hope you all enjoy reading this! let me know any thoughts you may have :) I hope this chapter gives a good insight into what reader and drew’s dynamic is like LOL, anyways all kinds of reblogs and feedbacks are always highly appreciated!

series masterlist / join my taglist 

— APRIL, 2012

The chatter fills the inconveniently tiny dressing room, students in extravagant costumes and extravagant makeup to match their clothes frantically running around, trying to get everything ready at the last minute. Some are mumbling their dialogues over and over under their breath as if it’s some mantra, some are practicing their specific actions for their role, and some are simply chill. 

Like Mr. Joseph. 

Drew sits in front of his vanity flipping through his script casually, as if he really doesn’t have the most important role in the play, the warm glow of the bulbs around the mirror only highlighting his makeup more.

“Romeo!” 

He looks up, his lips morphing into a smile on their own when he sees you. 

You reach up to him and give him a firm slap on his back – something he’s used to, and would never admit to your face that it’s actually hard – a big grin on your face. 

“Here to wish you to break a leg,” you say, resting your arm on his shoulder as you look at him sitting as you stand next to him. 

“Yeah thanks,” he smiles back, keeping his script on the table in front of him. 

“You excited? You’re playing your dream role,” you say back, looking at his reflection in the mirror of him, eyeing his Romeo outfit. 

“Uh huh yes I am,” he says, looking at his reflection too, and once running his hand through his hair to fix it. 

“Bet you’re excited more about kissing Ms. Cindy on the stage,” you tease, flicking his ear. 

His smile falls and his cheeks begin flushing a pink at your words, and what sucks even more is that he can’t even deny it. 

“Shut up,” he mumbles, distracting himself with his script again. 

You laugh, snatching the script from his hand and ignoring his protests by keeping it out of your reach. 

“Oh come on,” you drawl, “I know you are.” You move closer to him, your lips almost brushing his ear as you grin wickedly at his reflection. “You know, even some girls wouldn’t mind getting a taste of her,”

“Yeah okay that’s enough,” he says almost immediately, abruptly standing up from his chair as he clears his throat. 

You can’t control your laughter as Drew begins to make his way towards where all the actors required for the first act are assembling, you right on his heels. 

“Okay leave that,” you say, “but did you even think about how your parents, and all your little siblings are out there, and are going to watch you get a lip action with Ms. Queen Bee?” 

Drew’s walking immediately stops and he turns around to look at you. He can’t get mad at you; ever, actually, but there’s something about that annoying smirk on your smart mouth that’s getting to him. 

You can see he’s getting flustered, so you take the bait, of course. “You didn’t, did you?” And you laugh that same laugh each time you tease him: which is almost every minute of every hour you spend together. 

“Ugh shut up,” he groans, shutting his eyes and tipping his head back. “You know those little nasty buggers won’t ever stop teasing me, ever,” he mumbles under his breath. 

“I know, that’s why I’m going to feed this bit of information that it’s also your first kiss to them,” you grin. 

Drew’s eyes widen, a fair hint of warning in them, but before he can say or do anything, you’re rushing to the exit of the dressing room. 

“Alright that’s it, good luck!” You say out loud, your voice carrying a sing-song tone as you slip out the door. 

Drew takes a moment to regain himself, shaking his head at your antics. He knows you like to mess around a lot, and he also knows about how much you value loyalty in friendships, so even though you said you’ll tell his little siblings about his first kiss being on the final play of his senior year in front of a massive crowd, you actually won’t do it. The thought relieves him immensely, before he redirects his focus back at what he’s actually here for. 

He can hear the chatter of the crowd reducing and slowly reaching a bare minimal level, meaning the play is about to start. 

Their teacher gives them some final instructions, giving them all words of encouragement as her last words, before allowing the first act to begin. 

Drew lets out a deep breath. 

Alright, here goes nothing.

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

“There he is! Our superstar!” 

Drew’s family’s cheers only get louder as they watch him come into the crowd from the backstage. All the actors are with their families now, greeting them and receiving gifts and compliments, and Drew definitely isn’t going to get something less. 

He laughs as he joins everyone, his parents being the first ones to hug him. 

“You kissed a girl on stage,” his youngest sister teases, a big grin on her face and his other two siblings giggle with her. He rolls his eyes at them, grumbling a small ‘shut up’ under his breath. 

His eyes find yours, seeing you silently laughing at the entire scene. He shakes his head at you and sticks his tongue out, walking closer to you. 

“Joseph that was great,” you smile, and you give him the bouquet you got for him. 

“You got me flowers?” He grins, taking the bouquet of fresh white lilies and sniffing them. “Why, aren’t you a softie?” 

“Shut up,” you mumble, smacking his arm playfully. He only laughs at you. 

“Well, thank you sweetheart,” he grins, the nickname slipping out with a gentle ease. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, it just always seems so natural the way it rolls off his tongue. 

You only playfully roll your eyes at him, ignoring the gentle tingling feeling in your tummy from how perfect that nickname sounds in his voice. 

After that, he’s quick to be by your side, his arm around your shoulders as you two walk out the theatre. 

“So, you up for a drive?” He asks you, “I talked to mom, she’s okay with it,” 

“Oh yeah,” you say, “sure,” you smile. 

You walk out to the parking lot, where your car is parked. You toss your keys to Drew and he sits in the driver’s seat, you next to him in the passenger’s seat. He drives out of the parking lot of the school, making his way onto the main roads. 

You and Drew like to take drives together often. He takes control of the wheel and just drives around roads, your favourite music playing and you both talking about everything. Or sometimes, instead of talking, you opt to stay quiet, which is needed at its own times.

“So, tell me,” you say, your car’s windows rolled down, allowing fresh air to whip past you two inside. “How was your experience playing Romeo and kissing Cindy on stage,” you grin. Your phone – which is connected to the car’s speakers – plays Blonde, right from the first track. 

Drew groans, his focus on the road in front of him. “You know, you really need to drop that entire Cindy thing. It was just a peck,” he says. 

“Peck? A peck? Mister you were making out! You weren’t starring in some adult version of Romeo and Juliet mind you,” you shoot back, but your grin doesn’t wipe off. 

“Ugh whatever,” he mumbles, his gaze not wavering from the view in front of him. You sigh quietly, relaxing against the seat. 

“No but seriously, Drew,” you begin speaking, your voice taking a softer tone, “you were really good. Like, seriously, you were… amazing. That was really some Broadway level acting right there,” 

Drew remains quiet and you look at him, watching how his lips slowly curve into a small smile. 

“Is that so?” He asks, his own voice slightly soft. 

“Yeah,” you smile, “I was… amazed. You’ve done so many plays for the school and I always tell you how good you’ve been, but this one… you were exceptional,” 

A bashful expression takes over Drew’s face, and you watch how a soft blush sprinkles his cheeks and a gentle smile only widens on his lips. 

“I… I worked hard for this one,” he says, taking a glance at you before focusing back on the road, “like, I really did. We used to have 5 hour rehearsals for days on end and…” he lets out a deep breath, a small silence falling over you two, only Frank’s voice to accompany you, “yeah.” He chuckles softly. “It was draining, but it was fun,” 

“You know what I think?” You begin speaking, and he hums in response. “I think you can make it. Like, to Hollywood, or Broadway, or maybe both. I really think you can,”

Drew lets out a small laugh at your words. “Hollywood? Broadway? I have a one in a million chance to make that, you know,” he chuckles. 

“I know, and I really do think that one chance is all yours,” you speak. Drew can hear the conviction in your words, the way you’re still saying how you believe he can make it even when he made a small joke to lighten the mood. 

Drew catches another glance of you before focusing back on the empty road in front of him. “You really think so?” He mumbles softly. “I can make it? I can be a Hollywood star?” 

There is a hopeful glint to Drew’s voice, as if what you say is what always turns true. 

“Yeah,” you smile softly, “I really think you can. Just think: Joseph Starkey, biggest actor of all time. I can imagine your face plastered on billboards everywhere,” 

He laughs at your words. “Joseph Starkey sounds dorky. I think I’ll let my name be Drew Starkey instead,” 

“Okay okay, Drew Starkey does it too,” you laugh. “But, whatever the name will be, trust me, if you work for it, you’re gonna get it,” 

Drew smiles at you, and you lean back against your seat, looking out as you watch all the houses and trees whip by, Solo playing on the speakers. 

“You know,” he begins speaking after a moment or two of silence, and you turn your head to look at him, “you’re probably the only one who really believes in me that way. I mean, yeah, my family does too but, it’s different with you,” he says softly, “which, is why I want you to be the first person who I tell this to,” 

You furrow your brows at his words and sit up straighter in the seat, looking at him. “Yeah what is it?” You ask. 

“When the play finished and all of us were backstage,” he begins, and you watch him speak from his side, “Ms. Lydia bought this man there. He is the owner of this huge film camp that he organises each year for the summers, and… along with a select few, I was offered to attend this camp,”

Your eyes widen at his words. “What? Oh my god dude that’s insane!” You exclaim. “Tell me you’re going, you have to go!” 

Drew softly laughs at your excitement, catching a glimpse of your elated expression. “Well, missy, it’s not here, it’s in Boston, so that means I’ll be away for the entire summer,” 

For a moment, Drew doesn’t hear anything from your end. He turns to look at you, and when he does, he realises he can’t really pinpoint the expression on your face. Your lips are slightly parted: but besides that, there’s no other emotion present. 

“What?” He chuckles, now looking back at the road. “Don’t go all mute on me, say something,” 

“So that’s… three months in Boston,” you say slowly, almost cautiously, as if you’re testing the words on your tongue. 

“Yeah, three months in Boston,” he repeats. “Oh come on, don’t say you’ll miss me or some shit. Such a sap,” 

“What? No, who said that?” You retort back immediately, and Drew chuckles at your attempt to deflect facing your actual feelings. “It’s that I’m worried, you know?”

“Uh huh, how so if I may ask?” He asks amusedly, shaking his head at your antics. 

“I’m worried ’cause uh… A: you’ll be going so far from home on your own for the very first time,” you begin, “and… and B, you won’t know how to do your… laundry,” you finish lamely. 

“Laundry?” Drew chuckles amusedly. “I know how to use a washing machine, you know? I think me and my laundry will be absolutely fine,” 

“Okay, well that’s… that’s good to know you have all that in check,” you mumble under your breath, turning to look back out the car. You can hear Drew silently laughing to himself at your ‘concerns��� regarding him, and you force yourself to keep on ignoring it. 

“Well,” Drew is the one to break the silence. Your ears perk up at his voice but you don’t turn to look at him. “I’ll miss you, a lot,” He says, and his voice is toned down, and is incredibly tender. 

Drew knows what you’ll do: you’ll take his words and turn them into your advantage, a sinister smile curving your beautiful lips, and you’ll laugh that pretty laugh, and call him a ‘softie’ or a ‘sap’ and tease him endlessly. 

But, you don’t. 

“I’ll miss you too,” are the words which leave your lips instead, and Drew is taken aback. He keeps his emotions in check though, keeping a straight face as he keeps on driving. 

You both fall silent yet again, and all that’s accompanying you this time is Self Control playing. The melancholic rhythm along with its soulful lyrics and Frank’s voice really isn’t doing much to subdue the sudden awkward silence between the two of you. 

“But…” Drew begins to speak, “I still don’t know if I’ll attend it, you know? I mean, I still have to consider it with my parents and… and yeah, all that jazz,” he says with a short chuckle. 

“Uh yeah, yeah yeah that makes sense,” you say, trying to uplift the mood in the car. “But… you should go, it’s a very good opportunity for you,” 

Drew catches a glimpse of you and passes you a small smile, which you return. He focuses back on the road, and you opt to look back out of the car, your head resting back against the seat. 

Usually, he sometimes yearns for this kind of silence with you, because it’s comforting, and even when he knows something’s bothering him, realising you’re by his side automatically makes the problem seem smaller. 

Each other’s presence, the weight of the unsaid words and Frank’s singing is all you have with you, as Drew continues to drive on your usual route. 

⊹₊⋆.˚୨୧⋆.˚₊ ⊹

taglist: @oxpogues4lifexo / @inthelibrarybtw / @mileyraes / @totalswag / @chenslucy / @mariamadison6-blog / @snowtargaryen / @htlkira / @wearemadeofstardust0 / @percysley / @acidfeens + let me know if you want to be tagged for the future parts!

tagging a few moots: @runningfrom2am / @zyafics / @ilyrafe / @nemesyaaa / @ladyinbl00d / @jjsbank444 / @b1mb0slvt / @maddsxfall / @congratsloserr / @oceandriveab

[barblaz-arts]

Fellow Chaggie shipper, here and I wanted to ask you a question. Could you please do an analysis post on the Chaggie argument from Hello Rosie. I know this will sound weird but I can't get over the level of icy anger Charlie had towards Vaggie or how despite everything going on, Charlie is more hurt from Vaggie not being honest with her. Just angst all around.

Oh yeah sure I'd love to!

I'm not sure there's a lot I can say about that argument that isn't already super obvious, so I wanna talk about Charlie's anger because of something my brother said as we watched episode 7. He loved that episode apparently because "When they're separated, it's even more obvious that Charlie is the one who's more quick to lose her cool." Which, looking back, is actually true!(To an extent)

Vaggie and Charlie are both quite quick to anger. Charlie is just better at hiding it because she's a chronic people pleaser. Although Charlie wouldn't immediately show her anger at a person being a jerk to her specifically, she's immediately summoning fire and brimstone over anyone who hurts/insults her friends or the cause she's fighting for.

Love this lil bit in "You Didn't Know". How Vaggie is the one telling Charlie to calm down, as if she knows what's about to happen. She knows that if she doesn't at least try to reel in her girl Charlie would be spitting literal fire at a goddamn seraphim.

It would seem like such a surprising role reversal, but if you look at all the times Charlie would lose it whenever Vaggie's not there to tell her "babe, chill", then it makes sense.

But then when their fallout happens, Charlie's short temper is even more apparent. She calls Alastor an asshole to his face even though she considered choosing his support over her father's. She openly glares and rolls her eyes at Rosie when she jokes that her and Alastor look like an item even though she still kept things cordial with Valentino after he licked her arm. She flips the bird at some old lady even though she didn't take visible offense at all the demons that inserted their crude and rude selves in "Happy Day in Hell." While she was cold and subdued even when upset with Vaggie, she was explosive and in ur face when she was pissed at everyone else.

Vaggie reigned in both the girl in Charlie who dreams a little too big and the demon who's waiting to lash out in flames. It really makes me wonder if there's a difference in the kind of person Charlie used to be before Vaggie. Before she had friends to be angry on behalf of and a person to calm her down. And then, in the wake of their argument, Charlie is left with a lot of anger that is easy to ignite.

But I love love love that despite all that anger, Charlie can't bring herself to deny that she loves Vaggie with all of her hurt heart.

This little moment is one of my favorite parts in the series. My brother mentioned that this episode and episode three were his favorites because he liked the beats the dialogues followed. So he looked back--

(the man literally paused the episode to check the opening credits of ep 7 and 3. I was a little annoyed because I just wanted my Chaggie dammit! We'd make terrible youtube reactors with all the pausing and discussing mid-episode that we do...)

--and was satisfied to see that it was written by the same person, Ariel Ladensohn. Apparently she's in a sapphic relationship too and projected her own experiences whenever she wrote Vaggie and Charlie, and it must have paid off because the moments she wrote with them felt so real.

Charlie expressing her fear that even Vaggie's support and love could also be part of the lies she told was understandable considering the betrayal she felt. But immediately following that she goes "Oh that's a horrible to thing to think!" which I love even more. Even when she's understandably mad she thinks about how Vaggie would feel over Charlie thinking that of her. Because although Vaggie lied about who she is, Vaggie was always sincere about how she felt for Charlie. Vaggie's past may have been a lie, but the things she did for, to, and on behalf of Charlie were very real and held dear in Charlie's heart.

I dont have anything smart to say to conclude this. Sorry, I'm not even sure where I went here. Let's all just appreciate the smile Charlie has on her face when she thinks about Vaggie even when she's under a lot of stress I guess.

[chuusheartattck]

THAT’S THAT ME ESPRESSO (TTME)

Chapter 20- Shambles ☕️

After Nilou and Ayaka’s performance, it was time for another award winner. This time, it was for Scaramouche’s category. If he won best leading role then that means he’ll only need one more category to win.

You were still behind with only needing three more categories to win. You weren’t sure what your punishment would be if you lost. Knowing him, it’d probably be something humiliating.

Lyney and Lynette were announcing the nominees. You quickly glance over to Scaramouche, his indigo eyes already looking at you.

It was almost as if his eyes were teasing you. Saying that he’s for sure going to win. It was frustrating to say the least.

“Alright, now the winner for the best leading role is…” Lynnette begins to open the envelope containing the name. The suspense was killing you. Even if he did win this category, he didn’t necessarily win the bet. It would just put him to an advantage. An advantage you didn’t want.

Lyney snatches the envelope from Lynette, “THE WINNER IS DILUC IN TOP GUN MAVERICK!!”

Relief washes over you. Scaramouche lost one of the categories, meaning you were on the road to winning the bet. He’s no longer in the competition.

You couldn’t help but stand up and start clapping, really obnoxiously. Cheering so loud that the others around you take notice. It seems like you were more happy for the win than Diluc himself.

Noticing people looking at you, you quickly sat down embarrassed. That’s when you turned to Scaramouche and locking eyes. You can feel the anger emanating off of him. It was so satisfying to see him lose something for once. You playfully stuck out your tongue. Instead of doing the same, he only flipped you off.

What a sore loser.

.

The award show went on and you had already won best new artist and best solo performance. Making sure to make direct eye contact with Scaramouche everytime you gave your acceptance speech.

You only needed one more category. Best music video of the year. This will be announced after you and Xiao’s performance towards the end of the night.

Which happens to be right now.

You were sitting in the stylist chair getting your hair and makeup done. It was your first performance at an award show so naturally you have anxiety over it. You haven’t really talked to Xiao besides him congratulating you on your wins and him occasionally glancing over to your table.

After your hair and makeup, you finally put on your stage outfit. It fit nicely and you already knew it was going to trend on twitter. Satisfied with everything, you headed out onto the stage.

That’s when you bumped into Xiao finally.

“Are you ready?” His eyes looking at you up and down. You felt a bit flustered by this.

“Yeah I am. Is there something wrong with my outfit?”

“No it looks good.”

“Thanks. You look…nice too.”

Fuck why did you say that?

Who says that?

It’s hard complimenting guys.

You both walk to the stage and he goes up first while you get in place for when it’s your time to go.

His song starts.

.

It was at the end of the performance and both of you are locked onto each other’s gazes. You’re starting to get déjà vu from the first time you guys practiced. The cheers and the screams from people were starting to get blocked out.

Xiao kept looking down at your lips and then at your eyes. Signaling if he had permission. You could feel the crowd wanting you guys to do something.

Your hand reaches up, brushing gently against his cheek. You can see him leaning in, your lips only inches apart.

Doubt flickers in your eyes and you pull him into a tight embrace instead. You knew you couldn’t do this. It wasn’t fair to Xiao knowing you hold no feelings towards him. The tension breaks and Xiao wraps his arms around you, flashing a hint of disappointment.

The audience is still applauding, oblivious to the almost kiss that just transpired. For you and Xiao, it was going to linger on your guy’s minds.

You didn’t want to kiss Xiao knowing he was watching the entire time.

Once you and Xiao got done changing back to your original outfits, you both headed back to your respective tables. You turned to Scaramouche who was looking down.

The edible probably took a toll on him.

Now was the time to announce your final nomination. You have won all your categories so far. You were pretty confident you were going to win this one. You worked hard on the music video, if it didn’t win then this award show is rigged.

The incredibly famous movie director, Alhaitham was announcing the nominees and of course, the winner. As soon as your name was called for the nominations, Scara’s head perked up.

Alhaitham cleared his throat, “Without further ado..” He begins to open up the envelope.

Why do these people like to pause for a while before announcing the name?

You and Scara were both on the edge of your seats for different reasons. You needed to win and Scara needed you to lose.

Alhaitham finally opened up the envelope, “The winner for best music video of the year goes to…Barbara with her song we can’t be friends!”

Jaw fucking dropped.

You stood there with your mouth open flabbergasted. You turn to Scara who was up from his seat clapping and cheering more than anyone else.

Someone seemed a little too happy.

He glanced over at you and smirked before sitting down. Looks like nobody won the bet.

Whatever.

Besides, you and Hu Tao needed to get ready to announce the final category of the night.

Male actor of the year.

Which means this is the final category that Scara is nominated for. You both already lost the bet so it didn’t matter if he won or not. It’d just be hella awkward if you were the one that presented the award to him. It probably won’t happen anyways.

After Albedo’s performance, you and Hu Tao make your way up to the stage. You’re the one carrying the envelope.

Hu Tao was the first to speak, “Tonight has been an incredible night. One nobody can ever forget. Y/n and I have met some incredible people so far. Lumine, Alhaitham, Scaramouche.”

You quickly interrupted her at the mention of his name.

“Eugh anyway.” You rolled your eyes.

Gasps and laughter erupted from the audience. The camera panned to Scaramouche only shaking his head. You were definitely going to get a scolding from Furina, but you didn’t care.

Hu Tao finished giggling and continued with her dialogue, “Thank you for that Y/n. Now as the last category of the night we like to announce male actor of the year. The nominees are Childe, Scaramouche, Baizhu, and Diluc.”

As you open the envelope you finish the dialogue, “The male actor of the year goes to..”

You look down and see the name of someone you wish you didn’t start beef with 10 seconds ago.

Scaramouche.

You couldn’t help but laugh at the situation at hand, “Interesting… Scaramouche!” You gave a painful obvious fake smile as the crowd gives their applause.

You can see Scara slowly making his way up to the stage. You, of course, were the lucky person handing him the award.

Mona set you up big time.

“Thank you both. Thanks to everyone who voted for me. I don’t really know what else to say.” Scara paused for a brief moment. “Thank you to my fans, to my company and my friends who helped me along the way. Couldn’t have done it without you guys.”

Scara quickly walks off stage as the crowd claps once again. He ends up walking next to you and Hu Tao backstage.

“The opps are upon us.” You try whispering to Hu Tao.

“I can hear you. You’re not very quiet.”

“That’s the point.” You walked ahead of them, leaving Hu Tao and Scara alone together.

“What’s their problem?” Scara began to ask Hu Tao.

“They’re still mad that you’ve been ghosting them again.”

“Ok and? I don’t know what they expect from all this. They shouldn’t get their hopes up.”

Hu Tao stops right in front of him, “You can’t just start talking to them again and expect them not to care once you go ghost. You know the type of thing you guys had in high school. It doesn’t just disappear. If you don’t stop with your antics it’s going to end up the same.”

Scara threw his head back in a fit of laughter, “Why should I care? It’s not like this ever meant anything for the both of us. Y/n just likes the attention any guy gives them. They can fuck around with Xiao for all I care.”

“For fucks sake! Y/n doesn’t like Xiao. It was just a performance.”

Scara didn’t have the energy to continue arguing. He began to walk away from her.

“Why do you hate Y/n so much?” Hu Tao called out.

Scara stopped dead in his tracks, “I don’t hate Y/n. I just forgot about them.” He didn’t even turn to look at her. He only walked away again, leaving the girl behind.

Thankfully the night finally ended as you guys head back to the company car. Hu Tao didn’t feel ready to tell you about her conversation with Scara. Maybe another time she will.

Masterlist II Previous II Next

A/N: The last chapter of act 2!! Act 3 will be super messy. Alsoo in case you were wondering what the performance looked like, just imagine xiao singing his song on the piano. After it’s done he plays a few notes of espresso on the piano then opens an envelope that says “thats that me espresso.” Then espresso starts playing and y/n performs blah blah blah. Then they perform the cover song together then the end. (I’m not creative when it comes to stuff like this pls bear with me).

ALSOOO lmk if you guys want your users to be added to this au and i’ll make you a twitter user :)

Synopsis: You’re a new idol that just debuted under ‘Fontaine Entertainment’ with your new single ‘Espresso.’ You just graduated high school which means all your classmates are shocked to see you into stardom. Including your old situationship, who happens to be an actor.

Taglist: @skyoverkill1 @quacking-simp @lolmeowing @astro-stars @kaitfae @sl-vega @scarawiki @yuminako @samyayaya @skyvella @kur0kki @practicoi @kukikoooo @scaraenthusiast1 @shutingstar @lloovvv @moonjellyfishie @miy-svz @xionri @lalalaloveallmydays @hearts4lizzzz @kathiwis @state-of-grac3 @morgyyyyyyy @scaradooche @theyluvkatt @meigalaxy @noirechomps @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @vxcmx @ariesloves @cayl33n @animeobsessed56 @heartsforni-ki @feikyuu @ichcocat @strayharmony943 @chscklvr @kunikissr @jiminscarmex

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Summer Breeze 3

Warnings: age gap (reader is 22, Andrew is mid 40s), dad’s friend, Andy being Andrew, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.

I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!

Enjoy, my loverlies.

Despite the late night, the rest if the house, even your sad, wake up before noon. You would have rather headed down to the beach sooner but you didn't want to be rude. You are a guest after all. 

Jacob and his buddies take a frisbee out in the water as Andy mentions jet-skis to you dad. He offers you to join but you decline, waving your book and towel at him. You know your dad won't appreciate the tagalong and you don't think the whole jet-ski thing is for you. 

You spray yourself with heavy spf and hunker in to get into the meat of the novel you've barely been able to nibble on. The sand is hot under the towel, the sun beats down, and the water softly laps over the silt. It's like an ad for a resort. 

You flip your sunglasses down as you recline, shielding yourself further with book. You're quickly enraptured as Jacob and his friends fade into the background and the distant tear of engines waft over the lake. The only thing you're missing is a proper drink. You brought a water bottle as you didn't bother to bring any coolers with you. The thought of drinking around your dad is still weird. It feels almost like condoning his bad habits.  

You flip the pages, melting into your towel as the heat roils through the air. The frisbee flies onto the sand and Jacob runs up to grab it. Taylor yells at him to hurry up. 

"Hey," Jacob waves at you, "wanna join?" 

You peek over the top of the book. You should enjoy the water for a bit. Besides, you're starting to feel a bit ostracized. 

"Sure," you mark your page and stand up. You peel off your crochet cove-rup and lick your flip flops away. "Monkey in the middle?" 

He chuckles as he turn to the water, though you don't miss the none-to-subtle peek at your bikini. 

"Just flinging it around," he shrugs, "you looked bored." 

"Toss it, Jacob," Van snaps, "jesus." 

Jacob hurls the frisbee, making his bossy friend run for it. You space yourself out to join the lazy catch and glide. You're quiet as you listen in on their conversation about third year. They're a year behind you. 

"So, never been to your campus," Taylor says, "are the girls hot?" 

"Charming," Jacob rolls his eyes. 

"Yeah, but so are the guys," you stick your tongue out, "heavy competition." 

Taylor frowns as the other three laugh at him. You wouldn't say they aren't cute but definitely not the type that stun at first sight. Average but average isn't so bad. You're about the same.  

"Damn," Taylor mutters.  

The conversation shifts to the game they were talking about last night. Some role play. They're going to a festival or something? You're not too sure. 

As you toss the disc, you hear something across the water. You squint as one of the engines suddenly silences. There's a lull and another rips through the air. You tilt your head and lift your sunglasses as you try to see across the distance. It's only dark specks. 

The frisbee lands a foot behind you. You got to get it and hurl it between Taylor and Cam. The motor quiets, a low putter, and you find your gaze drawn back to the scene. You can't make it out but you have a weird feeling. 

As you stare out, the engine roars again. The small dot gets bigger and bigger, closer and closer. The jet-ski cuts up towards the shore, near enough that you feel the ripples but far enough not to be a hazard. You gasp as you see how your sad is draped over the front of the seat in front of Andy.  

You push through the water and yell out. Holy shit. As you get to the sand, you notice the red smeared over your father's silver hair. No.  

"What happened?" You shriek as Andy climbs up and grunts as he tries to haul your dad down to the ground. 

"Told him to slow down," Andy pants, "he wouldn't listen--" 

"Is he-- shit! Is he okay?" Your eyes glisten as your voice trembles. 

"Dad," Jacob comes up behind you. 

"Boys, go back to the house," Andy snarls. 

"Wait! What--" 

"Just listen. Go inside." He snarls and turns his attention back to you, "we gotta get him to the car." 

You can't think, you can barely see as tears rise with your panic and disbelief. It can't be real. There's so much blood. So much. 

"Dad," you quaver as you step closer. 

"Goddamnit, someone help me with him," Andy barks, "Taylor, you're strong. Get over here." 

You blink as time slows and the daylight blurs to obscure sounds and streaks. This is supposed to be a vacation. What's happening? 

[rainydayathogwarts]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 >> 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

this is a small series I’ll be uploading. I’ll post each character on its own, but the character i’ll be writing this for are: Harry, Ron, Percy, Oliver, Remus, Sirius, James.

soft!dom!james is a generous lover, no matter what the situation is, but he always likes to tease you just a little bit more when you so vocally thirst over him. He'll pretend he didn't see the way you were blatantly staring at his thighs, only clad in his boxers in the safe space of your shared apartment, but once he asks you a question and you don't answer him, that's when the teasing starts.

"I'm sorry baby, I'm too horny for you to even function right now." For a moment, he's taken aback, his face flushing a dark red, but he easily falls back into his more dominant role. When he gets it out of you that you've been thirsting over his thighs he'll say, "Yeah, why don't you show them a little love?" and pull you onto his laps from where you're sitting beside him on your bed so that you're straddling one of his thighs. And all of a sudden you're a stuttering mess.

He's leaning back into one of his pillows, watching as you desperately drag yourself back and forth on his thigh, both his hands lazily gripping your waist, waiting for you to start begging for help, and when he starts to see the tears building in your eyes at the frustration, he bucks his hips up, using the momentum to flip you over, so he's hovering proudly over you.

He slowly drags your panties down your thighs and makes you cum only by grinding his hard dick into your core, giving you the perfect friction, before deciding that you deserve a little more than that. He'll have you crying on his dick in seconds, kissing the tears off your cheeks before giving you a proper kiss, feeling the way your nails scratch down his back.

Despite how amazing it feels to be inside you, most of his pleasure comes from seeing how he can make you feel, and it makes his chest swell with pride.

When he pulls out, and you look over at him, having finally caught your breath, he's grinning from ear to ear. He leans down to give you a wet kiss and will walk with an extra bounce in his step for the rest of the day that has everyone around you knowing exactly what went down that morning.

[weewookinard]

I know you said fluffy, this is more smutty, but still happy I promise.

We all know Buck and Tommy are masc4masc, horny4horny, freak4freak, but the reason why they're each other's best ever sexual experience is because they're also goofy4goofy.

Both big beefy firefighters, they're used to being expected to act a certain way, to play a certain role in a sexual relation. They're no strangers to kinks either. What's precious about them is that they feel safe enough to enjoy sex with one another for what it is, without any pressure to preform, and sometimes it means laughing and goofing off mid-act.

Buck is lying on his back in bed, Tommy is bouncing up and down on his cock with near perfect cadence. While Buck enjoys being sloppy, getting lost in the feelings when he bottoms, Tommy never struggles to maintain control when he does, like an expert lap dancer.

Tommy's leaking cock gentle slaps onto Buck's stomach every time their bodies meet. This erotic picture almost makes Buck come on the spot, but then Tommy introduces some circling motion to his hip movement, Buck can't help but close his eyes and throw his head back at the new sensation.

When Buck opens his eyes, he stares at Tommy's cock for a bit, then suddenly turns his head to the side and covers his own face with his hands. Tommy gets a little worried seeing Buck's shoulders shaking, but he merely slows down his pace. They've both seen each other cry during sex before, it's not a big deal, sometimes it gets emotion or it's just hormones doing weird things after a magnificent orgasm.

"You okay, Evan? Want me to stop?" Tommy asks in concern.

"No, don't stop. It's... it's fine," Buck finally takes his hands off his face. While he does have tears in his eyes, he's not sobbing, he's laughing so hard that he tears up.

"What's going on?"

Buck points at Tommy's dick, now spinning around in circles, "it's a... hahaha... it's a helicopter."

Tommy looks down, and yeah, it is kind of funny.

"Wait wait wait, get off, I want to try it myself," Buck pulls out and flips them around so that Tommy is on his back this time.

It takes Buck a few minutes to get the hang of the spin, but he's so proud of himself when he finally gets it.

"Look, Tommy, I'm the pilot now!" Buck's chuckle is soon cut short by a moan, "ahh... wow, this actually feels amazing."

"Don't stop, baby. Keep it in the air."

in France we call this hélicobite and i think that's beautiful 🥲🥲

but for real, i am a fan of this Cee!! my husband and i we laugh a lot when we have sex and sex should be fun and relaxing!

which might not have been the case for Tommy before he met Evan! Sex is supposed to be sexy for a strong man like him, almost animalistic, and shit, and at first he believed it too because he only knew gay sex through porn. what he has with Evan? you don't find it (in porn movies) son, you make it (happily, messily, perfectly ❤️)

[rubyreduji]

timeless — ljh

summary: you’ve just met jihoon, yet something about him feels familiar

tags: fluff, romance, reincarnation?, gn!reader warnings: arranged marriages, mentions of death and war  reader notes: no pronouns or explicit gender descriptions but they do take a more feminine role in history, jihoon picks up the reader but my mans is strong okay don’t worry wc: 10.3k an: i’ve been writing this for over a month now fjdskla and i like the finished product but im a bit worried the format is choppy but either way please enjoy and show it lots of love...also happy first fic of the 2nd year of rubyreduji!!!

“Soonyoung, stop it!” You scold your best friend as he giggles at you.

“Just go talk to him!” Soonyoung tells you, pushing you towards the door to the antique shop next to your favorite boba place. 

Him refers to the cute cashier you always see through the windows when you and Soonyoung go and get boba (which is about three times a week). It’s nothing more than a hallway crush but Soonyoung keeps insisting that it could be more than that if you would just go talk to him. 

You don’t actually want to talk to the boy who stands at the counter with a smile, but before you can stop him Soonyoung is opening the door to the store and forcing you inside. When you turn around to chew your best friend out, you find him not there, his back already retreating to the boba shop. 

A part of you wants to just dash back out the door but the bell attached to the door has already gotten the attention of the cashier and you can’t escape now.

“Welcome to The Eternity Emorpium, today anything marked with a green sticker is 20% off.” The voice isn’t what you expected Cute Cashier to sound like but when you turn around to face him, you realize you’re not talking to Cute Cashier at all.

Rather than the tall boy with glasses you’ve been peeking in on for the past few months, you come face to face with a short yet buff boy with long black hair. He most definitely is not the guy you came in for, but you have to admit he is just as (if not more) cute than the other cashier.

You’re not sure how you didn’t notice that your normal Cute Cashier wasn't behind the counter, but in your defense you were too busy fighting off Soonyoung.

You give the new cashier—who you have now dubbed Even Cuter Cashier—a smile, before pretending to look at all of the memorabilia set out. The actual shop is nice with an obvious theme and specific layout that only someone with an eye for aesthetic and organization could create. On the speakers a Bruno Mars song is playing and you wonder if it's the cashier who has control over the music or just a general store playlist.

You feel awkward walking around the shop, letting out fake hums every once in a while to make it seem like you're actually shopping and not just sneaking glances at Even Cuter Cashier whenever you can. You stop in front of a playing card deck and you pick it up, flipping it over in your hand a couple of times.

"Oh, we just got those in," Even Cuter Cashier says, startling you a bit. "Put them on the floor this morning. You into cards?"

"Oh, uh," Shit. This is your chance to talk to him, "yeah. My dad is more of a collector than I am, but I can see the appeal."

"Nice. Yeah I'm more of a guitar collector myself, but my wallet wishes I wasn't," he says and you both laugh.

"That's cool though. I would love to learn how to play an instrument but I definitely don't have the talent or patience for that." As you speak with the man you slowly start to drift towards the counter.

"Hey, anyone can be talented, it just takes practice." You quickly glance down at Even Cuter Cashier's name tag to see his actual name is Jihoon.

"Good inspirational quote, but I think I'll just stick to the playing cards," you tell him with a grin as you set the pack down in front of him.

Jihoon just pushes the cards back to you and when you give him a questioning look he just grins. "They’re on the house.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that,” you tell him.

“I wanted to,” he says. “Maybe it’s just my plan to get you to come in here again.”

You smile at Jihoon, your face starting to turn a bit hot. You pick up the pack of cards and bid goodbye to the cashier before turning and leaving. Soonyoung is standing outside the door with two boba cups in hand. He peeks in when you open the door and frowns.

“That’s not Cute Cashier.”

“Nope! That’s Even Cuter Cashier,” you tell your best friend.

“You’re abandoning the other guy already?”

“I can’t abandon someone I don’t even know,” you scoff, “and anyway, I think I like Even Cuter Cashier. Something about him…it feels like destiny.”

Soonyoung laughs at you, but you ignore him, your mind still lingering on the dark haired boy from earlier. The more you think about him, the more your heart starts to grow warm. You can’t place it, but something about Jihoon feels familiar, and you need more.

1500s

“You are to be married to Prince Wonwoo before the solstice hits.”

Your head shoots up, staring at your father, not sure if you hear his words correctly. There’s no possible way he said that. You can think of a dozen reasons why that’s impossible, a few including: 1. You’ve never met Prince Wonwoo in your life, why would he want you as his betrothed? 2. You two did not have a courtship and it would be a scandal for you two to get married without presenting as a couple to the public first. 3. Your family is not nearly important enough to be noticed by royalty. 4. (And this is the biggest one) You are in love with someone else.

Well, your father doesn’t know that you’re in love with someone else, but it’s still an important fact to note.

Despite all of these reasons, your father continues to talk about the arrangement, not noticing the shock on your face. You wonder about how it came to be, and without you hearing even a whisper about it.

“You will be meeting with a royal advisor in two days, please do not cause any trouble.” With that your father walks ways, leaving you with a million questions brewing your mind.

The main one being: how are you going to tell Jihoon about this?

For over a year now you’ve been seeing the same man, sneaking out whenever you can to meet him. He came into town with a bang (quite literally — his caravan practically falling apart with all of his belongings crashing to the ground as it did) and you’ve been captivated by him since. 

Your days are never boring when Jihoon is around, the two of you either going on adventures or hanging out in Jihoon’s (new) caravan. Though, you think your most favorite times spent with Jihoon are late at night, when you two meet up on the outskirts of your estate grounds, right on the edge of the forest.

There never is any guessing as to what Jihoon has planned. Some days you two walk around the garden under the moonlight, talking and gazing up at the stars, while other nights you’re whisked off to another town to dance the night away in a hidden tavern. You love the guise of the night, being able to do whatever and be whoever without the fear of onlookers and their judgment. It’s just you and Jihoon in your own little world.

Maybe that’s why you’ve been keeping him a secret for so long, you like keeping him all to yourself. No one can taint your relationship if they don't know about it. Though you suppose that has backfired on you now.

You don’t see your father for the rest of the night and when the sunsets and you slip out the back door and walk down to the forest edge, you do it with a heavy heart. As always Jihoon is standing next to the tree he carved your initials in, a wide grin on his face and a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

As soon as he spots you approaching his face lights up in a grin. He trots up to you the rest of the way, scooping you up into a hug.

"I've missed you," he says, pressing kisses to your lips and cheeks. You giggle at his antics.

"You saw me two days ago, my dear."

"Oh but that's two days too long for an aching heart in love." 

Other people may think it's cheesy but you can't help but adore the sweet way Jihoon talks to you, always putting his poet background to good use. You smile as Jihoon holds you in his arms, but soon the good mood is ruined by the news you remember you have to break to him.

"What's wrong, my love?" Jihoon asks, seeing the fallen look on your face. He reaches up and pushes your hair out of your face, a habit he has picked up since you two met. 

You just sigh and shift so you're out of Jihoon's embrace. Automatically you miss his strong arms around your waist, but you can't bear to look at him as you talk.

“My father has given me away to another man,” you tell him in a hushed voice. 

“Who?” Jihoon responds automatically. “I won’t let him take you. I-I’ll fight.”

You finally turn towards Jihoon, the solemn look still firm on your face. “I’m betrothed to Prince Wonwoo.”

“Prince Wonwoo?!” Jihoon looks taken aback. You don’t blame him. Suddenly he deflates. “How am I going to beat that?”

You’re not sure how to respond. The truth is Jihoon can’t compete. That doesn’t mean you’re going to give up hope on him, though.

“We’ll…we’ll figure something out,” you finally say. You step closer to Jihoon, allowing him to wrap you up in his embrace once again.

“I’m not giving up on us,” Jihoon tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“We’ll be fine. We have to be.”

When your father told you you’d be meeting with a royal advisor, this isn’t exactly what you were expecting.

When you arrived at the castle you were amazed at the size of it, but you weren’t allowed to gawk for long, being ushered into a sitting room where two men were already conversing. Neither were your soon to be husband though and you wondered when you might actually get to meet the prince.

The two men soon introduced themselves as Soonyoung and Mingyu, two of Prince Wonwoo’s most trusted men. Now two hours later, you’re starting to question the judgment of your betrothed.

Not only are the men completely scatterbrained and disorganized, they also seem to bicker more often than not, making it difficult for you to understand everything they’re telling you. The only thing you really comprehend is that you’re going to be spending a lot more time with the two men up until the wedding.

You’re given a schedule at the end of the day, your upcoming weeks all planned out for you already. Meeting with wedding coordinators, royalty training, garment fittings, and everything else of the like. You frown, thinking about your normally free schedule has now been filled.

Luckily for you, the meeting finished earlier than expected and you don’t hesitate to direct yourself towards the area where Jihoon’s caravan resides. Your lover is delighted to see you but before he can get any words out you’re throwing yourself at him, pulling him into a kiss. You’re desperate to drown in Jihoon and forget reality even just for a moment.

It isn’t until later that you and Jihoon finally exchange words. 

“I can hear you thinking,” Jihoon says. You two lay next to each other on his bed, bare bodies pressed together under the linens. Your head rests on his chest and his hands card through your hair. “Was I not satisfactory in taking your thoughts away? What is troubling your mind so much?

“Prince Wonwoo.”

“You’re thinking about Prince Wonwoo after laying so intimately with me?”

“No! Well yes, but- I- shut up,” you grumble, smacking Jihoon’s chest, making his laugh.

You’ve never met the prince before, though you are well knowledged on him. It’s hard not to be when he is to take over the crown in a few years. You try not to think about how that will make you the queen consort.

You’ve only seen Prince Wonwoo in person a handful of times, none too recently, but you still know the prince is very handsome. Not as handsome as you find Jihoon, though you may be a bit biased. He’s also said to be kind, smart, level-headed, and well calculated. You suppose it could be worse. 

“I met with his advisors today,” you tell Jihoon. “I guess it’s just all hitting me. This really is going to happen.”

“Hey, listen to me,” Jihoon moves so he can stare at you in the face, “no matter what happens, I will always love you. My heart is still yours.”

“And mine yours,” you tell him softly. “I love you Lee Jihoon. Never forget that.”

You don’t see Jihoon for a while. Your schedule is packed with futile meetings that take up your day and with the news of your engagement to the prince (who you have still yet to meet), there are guards outside of your estate at night.

You suppose you are fortunate that Mingyu and Soonyoung have grown on you in the past few weeks. Though you still think them foolish, you also have a fondness for the pair. You see why Prince Wonwoo puts his trust in them. You find yourself wanting to confide in them, though there is one thing that still remains a secret.

It isn’t until the night before your wedding that you see your love. You are able to lose your guards for a second and you make a beeline straight to Jihoon’s caravan. He’s still awake, sitting outside and staring up at the starry sky when you approach.

“My dear,” you call out to him. Jihoon looks away from the sky to meet your face, a look of surprise flashes over his face before they form into a soft smile.

“You know you really shouldn’t be out so late at night, it is not safe.”

“Well then, why don’t you help me find some shelter kind sir,” you tell him. Jihoon just grins and grabs your hand, pulling you into his home. 

You two spent the night wrapped up in each other, exchanging soft kisses and even softer words. When the morning comes Jihoon is still asleep when you awake and while you’d love to give him a proper goodbye, you know you already pushed your luck enough spending the whole night out.

You quickly find a quill and some ink and you grab a piece of Jihoon’s writing parchment and scribble a quick note to him before slipping out the door. It’s only after the caravan is out of sight that you let your tears fall.

The first time you meet Prince Wonwoo is at the altar. Up close he’s even more handsome than you imagined, with soft facial features and kind eyes. You can’t help but still feel a bit disappointed, staring at the stranger in front of you as you recite your wedding vows.

The chapel where you are being wed is packed full of people, mostly nobility. Your attire is suffocating, despite being fitted for it thrice. Across from you, the prince keeps a neutral face and you wonder about his own involvement in this arrangement. 

He’s dressed in a formal outfit fit for royalty. The colors pair with your own dressings and you wonder what you two look like from the outfit. A newly bonded couple who will eventually be ruling the whole country. Are you two a handsome, strong presenting couple? Or do you two look like two fools who have never met before?

You were surprised at the way the public took the news of the engagement. You were expecting backlash against the prince, but he is well loved by the public and they were all happy to see the young man finding a partner to settle down with before stepping up to the throne. Despite never having been seen together in public before today, there was a wide talk of your (fake) courtship and how you must be very lucky to have the prince hold your heart.

If only they knew that a lonely, penniless poet was the real caretaker of your love.

It isn’t until the words leave the officiant’s mouth that you realize you will have to kiss the prince. Not only to end the ceremony but for the public to see you two unite as one. You must look as taken aback as you feel because your now husband takes the initiative, stepping forward to close the distance between you two.

Wonwoo cups your face gingerly, his hands are cold and his fingers are boney. He stares at you for a moment, dark eyes gazing into your soul, before he finally leans in.

The moment his lips press against yours you want to jerk out of his hold. It feels wrong. Your lips don’t fit together nicely and there’s no warmth exchanged between you two. You’re both stiff and you note how Wonwoo’s lips aren't as full as Jihoon’s. 

The kiss is over within seconds but the damage has been done and you can’t shake the dirty feeling that has grown under your skin. Wonwoo’s hand slides down your arm to clasp your fingers together. Another sign of unity for the public. You force a smile on your face, but the only thing you can think about is how your heart is miles away, in a small caravan on the edge of town.

My love,

I am not sure how you were able to convince the prince’s closest man to be a part of this, but I cannot say am I ungrateful for him. Though I do find him quite eccentric (and slightly obnoxious) I must give him my gratitude.

I miss you tremendously, but the past few letters you have sent me have been acting as bandages over my heart. I read them whenever I feel an ache of your absence, which is quite often.

It is unfortunate you find royal life boring. If I could, you know that I would sweep you off to the farthest lands where we would explore the area during the day and revel at night. I would show you the large world out there and we could experience new joys together. 

How I long to have you lay by my side at night. To feel your soft, tender skin against my fingertips. It pains me to even think about it, but it would kill me not to. 

I will never stop fighting for us.

Write back soon,

Your Jihoon

My darling,

I saw you today. I was taken quite off guard when I saw you riding in the carriage, next to Prince Wonwoo. I admit, you two make a handsome couple, but not more handsome than us.

It’s been so long since I’ve seen your beautiful face in person, that even seeing you with another man made my heart sing. I couldn’t pull my eyes from you, doing my best to soak in the sight of you because you were once again gone.

You looked quite winsome sitting in the carriage, but you did not look like you. Are you required to wear such extremities every day, or were you dressed for the occasion? Either way I cannot imagine the process of getting ready to be a swift one. 

If I am being honest I do not find the purpose of such efforts. Does the prince not find your natural beauty fit to his standards? If so then off with him. Any person with eyes would be fortunate to gaze upon you. I know I was.

Seeing you has only made me yearn more for you. I know it has only been a few weeks since your matrimony to Prince Wonwoo, but to me it has been lifetimes. How I crave to feel your touch, to hear your voice, to kiss your lips.

I know that the idea is futile but I will never give up on you. No matter what, I am still yours. And I hope you are still mine. Even if I only see a glimpse of you once every decade, my heart will still burn for you.

Forever yours,

Your Jihoon

To my heart,

Though you are always in my thoughts, you have been overtaking my mind more often than not lately. Please do not think I am upset about this, it is quite the opposite, but I am afraid I have been missing you a great deal more than usual.

Maybe it is due to a conversation I had the other day. I was at a tavern, catching up with an old acquaintance who was in town, and you came up. Jeonghan questioned if there was a reason why I had settled here and wondered if it was ‘due to my heart’. I laughed and confirmed his suspicions.

We spent a deal of time after that talking about you. It felt liberating being able to speak of you to someone else. I must have rambled on for at least an hour before Jeonghan finally cut me off, telling me how lucky I must be to have someone like you in my life. I had no choice other than to agree with him.

Speaking about you and thinking about you has thrown me into a tumultuous frame of mind. It is quite shameful how often I get lost in fantasies of us and what I wish we could be. You have overtaken my mind, body, and soul. There is not a single night where I do not dream of you.

I hope our future king can see how fortunate he is to be married to you. I would kill thousands of men to be in his position. Your smile itself is worth more than every jewel on his crown. I know I am just waxing poetic at you, but that is my job.

I know we must stay apart, but please mourn the future we could have had for me. Please write back to me with every thought you have about our imaginary future, because even if I cannot have the real thing, my dreams will be enough for me.

Dream of me as well,

Your Jihoon 

The life between you and your husband is…comfortable. You two talk, but not often and seldom about anything that is not shallow or mundane. You two sleep side by side at night but the last time you two touched each other was when you danced at your wedding and while his days are spent in meeting, yours are spent wandering the castle grounds and having tea with Soonyoung and Mingyu.

The only thing you find yourself looking forward to in your days anymore is the nightly lettering that you receive from Jihoon. It was only a week into the marriage when Soonyoung noticed how miserable you were. Without being able to hold it in anymore, you told the man about your lover and your heartbreak. It was then that Soonyoung suggested he help you out, acting as a carriage pigeon to deliver letters to and from Jihoon.

One night you are sitting at the desk in your shared chambers with Wonwoo, writing your letter for Jihoon, when Wonwoo speaks up. He is sitting on the bed across the room and his deep voice startles you, not used to talking to the man like this.

“Are you happy?” Wonwoo asks you bluntly, after calling out your name. You take only a moment to form an answer.

“I am content, my lord,” you tell him. Though you have stopped referring to the man as “Prince Wonwoo” in your mind, you cannot help but tack on the formal titles at the end of your sentences to the man.

“But you are not happy. Why?”

“Rest assured your highness, it is nothing you’ve done.”

“Does it have anything to do with the letters Soonyoung delivers to you each evening? The letters you are writing back right now?” You freeze in your seat. You were unaware he knew, but the prince is not ignorant. You suppose you couldn’t keep it a secret forever.

“I-”

“Do not mistake my curiosity for accusation. I’m aware this arrangement is not an ideal situation, and I would not be upset if there was another. I would not even be upset if you wish to be with him,” Wonwoo says. 

His words trouble you. There is a benefit for both of you in the marriage, but his words imply he is not exactly happy with the arrangement either. The offer to let you leave him is strange though, and causes you to fault for a moment.

“I am not going to abandon you, sire,” you eventually respond. “I have made an obligation to you.”

“No, your father did. Though we are not well acquainted I still hold empathy and I do not want to be what is keeping you from your happiness. From your happy ending.”

“Either way my father’s word is say, so I will do what he asks of me. It is an honor to be wedded to a man of your status,” you tell him, trying to convince yourself more than anything.

“But that is all it is: status. What about love?”

You don’t answer. You sit there and stare down at the letter you are writing to Jihoon. You think about the wooden box hidden in the drawer that holds his letters.

“Please, I do not wish to cause you turmoil. If you want to go, I will not hold you back,” Wonwoo says. 

You finally turn to look at your husband. “You are very kind-hearted, but I cannot accept that offer. I will not tarnish your reputation like that. Do you know the talk that would rise if they heard the soon-to-be king’s spouse up and left? What would your father do to mine? It is too risky.”

Wonwoo has a morose look on his face, like he knows you’re right. “Tell me about him,” he says, surprising you.

You hesitate. You should not talk of your lover to your husband. It is unorthodox and unbecoming. You look at Wonwoo’s curious face though, and you can’t help yourself.

“He’s a poet. I’ve never met someone who can use words the way he does. Even in things as simple as short letters or passing comments, he can make it sound like the most romantic sentence ever uttered,” you tell Wonwoo.

“Tell me more.”

“He has a kind soul, like you. He’s very exciting to be around. He used to travel the world, so I love to hear him regale the tales of his adventures. He likes to take me on our own little adventures as well. One time a traveling show came through a neighboring town and he got us tickets to go watch.”

“You love him greatly.” It is not a question. You just nod to Wonwoo. “You light up when you speak of him. In a way I’ve never seen before.”

You don’t know what to say to him, so you turn your back to him once more, resuming your letter to Jihoon.

You love Jihoon, everyday apart from him feels like you’re struggling to breathe, and under any other circumstance you wouldn’t have stopped at anything to be with him, but you are not under those circumstances. You fought your father, refusing the marriage, even telling him you loved someone else, but he did not listen. He told you this was the one thing he would put his foot down on.

You can’t blame him, how often does someone get the chance to marry a prince. The things this marriage is doing for your family is immeasurable and you cannot in good conscience leave them without a second thought. Not to mention the damage it would do to your family’s reputation, let alone Wonwoo’s. Your family would be shunned by the public and Wonwoo would be labeled a joke of a king.

Not to mention if it was ever discovered what really happened. What would happen if everyone found out why you left? You and Jihoon would surely be ostracized. Town piranhas in even towns in other kingdoms. Jihoon’s career as a poet would be over. You can’t imagine that being a happy life.

Not that you’re particularly happy right now either. You wish you didn’t overthink everything, or else you would have left the town even before you got married. You and Jihoon could be living in his caravan, just you two alone, safe and sound and happy.

It is too late for that though, and now you have to pay the consequences. Married to a man you know nothing about. A man who seems to be rooting for you despite the outcome. It makes you frown. Maybe your first step in figuring it all out is figuring out your husband first.

“Have you ever been in love, my lord?” You decide to ask Wonwoo one day while walking the castle’s grounds. As of recently you two have gotten closer, an interesting bond forming between you two, though most of your time is spent talking of Jihoon. Wonwoo never draws back on his suggestions that you follow your heart. 

“Not in the way you are. I was very fond of someone a long time ago, but they loved someone else.” You frown at this news. 

“Please excuse the crudeness of my words, sire, but then why do you put so much mind into my love? Do you not wish to be wed to someone?”

“I do,” Wonwoo answers after a moment of contemplation, “but I do not want to be the reason why true love is separated. You and your Jihoon, you are a story of fate. Who am I to get in the middle of it? The public likes me enough, I will be okay. No matter what, I will be okay, but will you?”

Your heart aches and yearns for Jihoon, and your husband is not making it easier. That may have been his goal though.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” You ask Wonwoo. You frown as you stand in front of him, your stomach in knots of worry.

Wonwoo just gives you a soft smile. “I am sure. If anything, I should be worrying about you. Do you have everything you need?”

“Yes. Both Soonyoung and I checked twice. You have ensured that everything will run perfectly.” You reach over and take your husband’s hands in yours, squeezing them tightly. “Thank you, Wonwoo. For everything.”

“Ah, it is the least I could do. Now, you have somewhere to be and I cannot keep you waiting any longer. Send me letters, okay?” With a final squeeze of your hands, Wonwoo lets you go. You smile at the man once more before turning away from him and not looking back.

You slip out of the castle through the servant’s doors and quickly make your way to the outskirts of the grounds. It reminds you of all those times you escaped your own house to meet Jihoon at the edge of the forest. The thought makes a grin grow on your face as you speed up your pace even more.

Just like all the previous times, when you get to the edge of the estate Jihoon is standing there waiting for you. You launch yourself into his arms, allowing him to pick you up and twirl you around. He’s giggling high pitched and gleeful as you two spin around in each other’s arms.

When Jihoon finally puts you down he doesn’t waste a moment and leans in to kiss you. You happily kiss him back, grabbing his face and holding him in place. You can feel a wet stream of tears run down your face, your heart bursting with joy as you reunite with your lover.

His lips are familiar against yours and you automatically feel at home. For the first time in months you can relax, finally back in Jihoon’s arms.

“It’s you,” Jihoon muttres when he finally pulls away. He brings his hands up to caress your face.

“It’s me, my love, it’s me,” you tell him back, tears still flowing freely.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you more.” You lean in and press another quick kiss against Jihoon’s lips. “But we will never have to miss each other again.”

“I’m never letting you go,” Jihoon tells you, gripping you tighter. “Oh how much I love you.”

You giggle. “I love you more. Now come on, let’s get out of here.”

You grab Jihoon’s hand and pull him away from the grounds to where his caravan is waiting for you two. As you two travel further and further away from the town you feel your heart grow lighter and lighter, excited for the rest of your life of adventures with your love.

The next time you see Jihoon is nearly a week later. You and Soonyoung are once again getting boba when you spot the boy behind the counter, just like last time. When you and Soonyoung went and got boba a few days prior you noticed that the original Cute Cashier was working, and you couldn’t help but feel a bit of disappointment at him not being Jihoon.

As soon as you lay eyes on your Even Cuter Cashier, you quickly make a beeline into the shop, your desire for boba long gone.

Jihoon looks up when he hears the sound of the bell ringing and his eyes soften into a smile when he sees you entering through the threshold.

“You came back!”

“I did. It’s hard not to, with the amazing service I got last time,” you say. You casually browse the store as you talk to Jihoon, glancing at him every so often as you do. 

“Well I’m glad that my plan to get you to come back succeeded.”

You giggle at Jihoon’s words as you stop in front of a stack of old photos. You flip through them, looking at all the memories they hold. Many of the photos depict different couples, all smiling brightly as they hold each other. The images put a smile on your own face.

“Find something good?” Jihoon asks and you jump a bit at the closeness of his voice. When you turn, you see the man standing by your side.

“Oh, yeah, just these photos! Aren’t they beautiful?” You tilt them a bit to show them off to Jihoon. “I think it’s so amazing that no matter how the world changes, love will always stay the same.”

“Huh, I guess you’re right. Love’s been around since the beginning of time.”

“The love these people were feeling in these photos is the same love we experience today. There really is nothing like it.”

You look back down at the photos. The one in your hand shows a woman clinging onto a man’s arm, her cheek pressed into his bicep as she smiles at the camera. The man himself is smiling as well, though he is smiling down at the woman, rather than the camera. 

“They’re cute,” Jihoon mumbles, his own eyes transfixed on the photo. 

“Yeah,” you say, “I wonder what’s their story.”

“Something happy, I hope,” Jihoon says before moving to walk back behind the counter. You grab a few more photos from the stack before following after him, placing them on the counter.

Jihoon smiles at you and starts to ring you up. You take a moment to stare at him, your eyes tracing over his fluffy hair and round face and kind smile. You don’t stop staring until Jihoon breaks your focus.

“What? Does my hair look stupid or something?” He grins lazily at you again and you feel your heartbeat quicken.

“Uh, n-no! It’s just…your smile is super familiar to me. Sorry, that may be weird.”

“No, no, it’s not. I guess I kinda felt the same thing the first time you came in,” Jihoon tells you. “Who knows, maybe we knew each other in a past life.”

You chuckle at Jihoon’s joke, but you don’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the day.

1951

War Against North Korea Rages On, No End in Sight

You frown at the heading, throwing the newspaper aside onto the counter. The news of the North Korean troops invading Seoul changed everyone’s lives, throwing the country into a state of chaos trying to keep them from completely overtaking all of South Korea. Now a year later, the war is still in full force and though you know it’s important to stay updated on what’s happening, you don’t bother with the news articles anymore. They always say more or less the same thing: the war continues on with more casualties and less hope of ending soon.

Your heart grows heavy with each day growing worse than the last. You wish there was more you could do to help the war efforts, but you’re stuck at home taking care of your sick father. He’s the only family you have left, after your mother’s death a few years ago. All of the money received from her passing has gone into your father, but since the start of the war prices have done nothing but skyrocket.

So you spend your days at home taking care of your father, and your nights in a factory working to earn an income. You don’t mind the work though, allowing your mind to focus on something that isn’t the war or your father.

The only other time you get a break, an actual real break, is on Saturdays. It’s the one day in the week you allow yourself to go out, spending the afternoon to yourself getting groceries and taking time to focus on yourself.

You go through the same routine, walking down to the port and spending a few minutes enjoying the waves lapping against the shore, the salty sea water scent filling the air as the summer breeze brushes up against your skin. After taking in the sight of the sea, you move further into town and down the street to the cemetery.

Every Saturday you visit your mother’s grave, sitting with her for a while as you update her on your life and the current events. Occasionally you will bring a book and read aloud. You find the time spent with her calming, her maternal love enveloping you and letting you rest, even for a small bit of time.

Afterwards you browse the shops in town (only looking, never buying) before heading to the market to finish your day off. You spend the money for the groceries to get you through the week before heading back home. You do your best to walk most places you go, not wanting to spend the fare for the trollies. 

The streets are busy on the weekend and on your walk back to your house, someone bumps into you causing you to drop your bags, all of your freshly bought groceries tumbling to the ground. The person doesn’t even stop and you can’t bother chasing them too. You just sigh and bend down to pick up the now unusable goods. 

You now have to turn around and go back into town to get more groceries. It will take a good chunk out of your funds, but not too much. Maybe you’ll pick up a few more shifts at the factory.

“Excuse me, are you okay?” As you’re thinking about how to make up the price of the ruined groceries, you miss the man who has walked up to you.

When you look up you see a beautiful man with a sweet round face and dark hair staring down at you. He’s dressed nicely in a suit and it takes you a moment to actually respond to him, too distracted by his good looks.

“Pardon?”

“I was asking if you were okay?” The man bends down to help you pick up the rest of the food spilled on the ground. “I saw that man bump into you and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Oh! I’m fine, thank you.” You smile at him, appreciative of the kind gesture.

“But all of your groceries are now ruined. Allow me to buy you more.”

“Oh no! That’s not necessary,” you quickly tell the man. You don’t even know him and you would feel guilty allowing a man who didn’t even cause the casualty to pay for your groceries, especially with the state of the economy.

“I insist,” he says, standing and then helping you stand as well. “It’s the least I could do.”

“Sir it really-” Before you can even finish your sentence the man was walking away, back towards the town. You could just go back home, but then you’d be left with no groceries for the week so you begrudgingly follow him back to the market.

“Lee Jihoon, by the way,” he tells you as you two walk around the market, collecting what you need. You give him your name as well and he grins, a small spark igniting behind his eyes as he tells you how lovely your name is.

When you’re done regathering what you need you move to head to the register, but Jihoon stops you.

“This is all you’re getting? It’s barely enough for any proper meals. Please, add more. I won’t mind, I demand of it actually.” Jihoon then moves to add more to the basket and once again you have to follow along as Jihoon is the one carrying it.

You protest each time a new item is added but Jihoon keeps hushing you like you’re a life long friend rather than a stranger he met on the street no more than thirty minutes ago. By the time Jihoon is satisfied with what’s in your basket, it’s full to the top and you can’t remember the last time you’ve seen so much food in your life. Guilt eats away at you as you think about the money Jihoon is about to drop on you just because someone else made you drop your bags.

It isn’t until you’re checking out and Jihoon casually pulls out multiple banknotes without even a blink of an eye that you realize that not everyone lives like you and that just maybe Jihoon doesn’t mind paying so much because he has the money laying around to do so. Even back when your mother was alive and your father was able to work your family was still paying for everything with scraped up coins.

The sun is already low in the sky by the time you two exit the market and Jihoon stops you once more. “Allow my driver to take you back to your house.”

The sentence alone confirms your suspicions on Jihoon’s monetary status. To own a car is a luxury of its own, but to have a driver as well seals the deal.

You already can tell it’s impossible to turn Jihoon down so you just follow him back to his car. You wonder if his driver followed you after you two walked to the market. When you two get into the car you tell your address to the driver, trying not to get embarrassed at the thought of the nice car driving through your run down little neighborhood. 

Jihoon’s driver just nods and starts up the car. The three of you sit in silence until the car pulls up to your house and you climb out. Jihoon does as well, helping carry your groceries to the door.

“It was nice meeting you,” Jihoon says. “If you ever need anything again, give me a call.” He holds out a small white card, his business card, to you. You take it and thank him once more before entering your house, your mind still lingering on the strange, rich man.

You don’t give Jihoon a call, but you don’t have to. You run into him again not even three days after your first interaction. It’s early in the morning and you’re heading back home after work when you hear your name called out. When you turn you see the man’s car rolling up next to you, his head poking out of the back seat window.

“What are you doing walking alone so early in the morning? The sun has barely started to rise.”

"I'm walking back home from work," you answer honestly.

Jihoon's face looks sour at this, like he couldn't imagine working so late at night. "If you have been working all night let me treat you to breakfast."

It's your turn to let your face screw up slightly. You know that Jihoon can afford to buy you breakfast, but you still don't want to feel indebted to him. Not to mention your father will be waking up soon and you'll need to make his breakfast as well. You tell Jihoon as much.

"Then I will buy breakfast for your father too," is his solution.

You're not sure why he keeps insisting on buying you things but you just sigh and climb into the car. Jihoon has a smug grin on his face as he tells his driver where to go.

A few minutes later the car pulls up in front of a diner and you and Jihoon enter. It's nothing extravagant, but still a treat for those with a tight budget. 

The two of you sit in silence until a waitress comes and takes your order. Jihoon doesn't allow you to order for yourself, picking what he tells you are the most delicious and filling items. He orders for himself and then a third meal, asking the waitress to not cook it until she brings the check.

You note the way Jihoon has a nice presence to him, friendly and warm and inviting. The way his soft features are accentuated when he smiles, his round cheeks puffing up and his eyes squinting. You find him fascinating, but there's something more than that, something drawing you to him.

"So, where do you work that has you walking home at six in the morning?" 

The question breaks the ice between you as you fall into a natural conversation, asking questions and trading answers. Your hesitations towards the man quickly ebb the more you talk.

You learn he's a highly successful businessman but the war has halted much of his work which has given him some much needed down time. Like you, he doesn't have many living family members and he's an altruistic man so much of his money is left unspent.

Before you know it both of your meals are finished and the waitress is bringing over the check and the packaged meal for your father. Just like at the market, Jihoon pulls out his banknotes and pays before escorting you back to his car.

When you arrive at your house a part of you feels disappointed that the morning with Jihoon is over. Now it's back to the real world. 

You're halfway to your door when you suddenly turn back around. You don't know what causes you to say it before you can stop yourself you spit out, "Would you like to come in for a cup of tea? It's the last I could do after all of your kindness." 

Jihoon beams in front of you. "I would love that."

Bloodiest Battles of the War So Far, Conscription Soon to Follow?

Five months after you meet Jihoon he knocks on your front door, a letter clutched in his fist. There's a grim look on his face when you open the door and you know automatically.

The Battle of Bloody Ridge, follwoed by The Battle of Heartbreak Ridge, took out many of the soldiers on the frontlines and the country was now desperate to find new ones to replace them. A mandatory conscription for any young man who was eligible to join the military.

It didn't take long for you and Jihoon to start a relationship after your first few meetings. He's the perfect man, taking care of both you and your father and showering you in nothing but love and affection. The thought of him so far away, in the direct line of danger, makes a lump grow in your throat. Your chest tightens as your heart aches.

"We'll be okay," Jihoon mutters into your hair as you cry silently into his neck, holding him tightly. Like if you hold him tight enough he won't have to leave.

That's not how the world works though, and you accompany Jihoon on the day he is to deploy.

"If you need more money just send me a letter and I'll take care of it, okay?"

"You've left me with plenty already, love," you tell him as you fix his jacket collar. "Just come home safe."

"As long as you make sure I have something to come home to."

You can already feel the tears welling up in your eyes and you lean forward to press your lips to Jihoon's. He kisses you back, putting all of his love into it. A promise to you, that you will see him again, that this isn't your last kiss.

With one last squeeze of the hand Jihoon boards the bus and you're left alone, a heaviness in your heart and worry forming under your skin.

You just have to keep telling yourself he'll be okay, he has to be.

December 19, 1951

To the one my heart has gone to,

I hope you don't mind the frequency of my letters, I just feel closer to you know that eventually you'll hold the same paper in your fingers. I miss you tremendously, to the point my heart aches thinking of you.

Do you know that when you send your letters they smell of you? I always keep your most recent ones safe, in hopes to preserve the smell for just a little while longer.

There's not much to report about today, which I suppose is a good thing. Better than something hectic or even worse, a battle. 

Unfortunately it still doesn't look like there will be a break anytime soon. Battle after battle, life after life. It's not easy, but I've come to like the other men in my unit. Jeonghan takes good of us and Seokmin makes nice company. 

I don't want to keep you long, but I wanted to make sure you'd get a letter for before the holidays hit. Merry Christmas my love.

I'll make it up to you when I get home okay? For now just keep me in your dreams.

Write back soon, please. I want to hear what my lover has been up to. Keep me updated on your father as well.

All my love,

Your Jihoon

March 22, 1952

Today was hard.

I'm doing unwell as I write this letter, but it would pain me more not to send you my update.

Kwon Soonyoung died next to me today on the battlefield. It is not the first time a man has died near me, but it is the first time it was a man I have grown fond of. He was only a few months older than I am.

As grim as it may sound, and as much as I will mourn the loss, I am grateful that it was not me in his place. It was a difference of mere inches and fate chose Soonyoung. Does it mean anything? Is there a reason why I lived and he didn’t? I’m not sure but all I can think about is that his sacrifice is giving me a second chance at going home. Does that make me a bad person?

Everyday I pray this nightmare will be over. The thought of you is the only thing encouraging me to go on. I think about coming home to you, kissing your sweet lips, holding you in my arms.

We’ve been apart longer than we were together and I beat myself up for that everyday. I wish we would have met earlier, but as soon as the war is over we will have all the time in the world. Just you and me.

Wish me home soon,

Your Jihoon

November 30, 1952

To the home of my heart,

You have been on my mind all of today, not that you aren’t always on my mind normally. It has been particularly hard today though. It’s been a full year since my departure from you and every day has been harder than the last.

It’s hard to sleep at night and I often lay awake and think about you. Sometimes I will take a walk and look up at the sky. The moon and the stars are thousands of miles away but they still seem so close and bring so much comfort. That’s how I feel about you. Gazing at the moon also helps because it is still the same moon that you are under as well.

Look at the moon and think of me okay? Maybe one night we will be looking at the moon at the same time and I will be able to feel you just a bit closer.

Whenever I am able to fall asleep, I dream about you. I dream about the thought of you laying next to me. I wish to kiss your soft lips and feel your warm skin and look into your shining eyes. I dream of the life we will build together when we are reunited at last.

Would you marry me, my love?

I know it’s silly asking over a letter like this, and asking with such a strange courtship, but something in me feels the need to ask. Ever since I met you on the street that one fateful day, I’ve known you were the one for me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, so please accept my proposal (I promise to give you a proper one the second I get home).

The other men keep teasing me about you, but they just don’t understand the love we share. Being with you, even just the thought of you, it feels like home.

A part of me wonders if I’ve secretly loved you my whole life. It sure feels like it. No matter what I know you were made for me and everyday I bless whatever force brought us together. I love you so much it drives me crazy.

When I get home let me take you out on a thousand dates to make up for the time lost. 

Please send me your answer soon,

Your fiance Jihoon

February 01, 1953

To my dearest,

I’m writing to you from the infirmary. I was shot in battle earlier, nowhere too fatal just the leg, but I just woke up from the procedure to remove the bullet and patch me up. I’m lucky to come out with nothing more than a scar. Some other men aren’t as lucky.

It seems everyday is a new fight, but it’s worth it if it gives me a chance of going back home to you. We’ll buy a house close to the port, so you can be near the ocean breeze. Every night we’ll walk the shore and watch the sunset together. Then on Saturdays I’ll accompany you on your errands. We’ll go to town together and get groceries and visit the cafe and do whatever your heart desires. 

I’ll buy fresh flowers for your parents every week.

We could get a cat to keep you company while I’m at work and you could quit that heinous job at the factory. That would give you more time to focus on yourself. You and I both know that my wealth is more than enough for just the two of us.

Our house shouldn’t be too big, but still a good size in case we ever have guests over. I think we should start a garden as well.

Ah, my love, thinking about our future is nice. It helps me wish for the future, helps me feel closer to you. Thank you for being my safe place away from this nightmare. I should rest more now, but please remember that I will always spend everyday loving you.

Pray for my speedy recovery,

Your Jihoon

July 07, 1953

Jagiya! I apologize for the lack of letters recently, things have been so hectic around here, but I write with good news!

The talk around camp is that the negotiations have been making a move, there is finally an end in sight. I cannot wait to get back to you. It has been far too long since I’ve seen you and the photo I carry of you has started to fade already from how often I admire it. 

I cannot stay to write for long, but I needed to send you an update and a reminder of my love. I promise we will be back together soon.

Go to town and buy some flowers for yourself okay? Today is worth celebrating.

I can’t wait to see you,

Your Jihoon

You’re jittery as you smooth down your shirt, waiting for the bus to pull up. The same bus that took him away nearly two years ago.

When all of your friends heard about your beau, they all called you crazy. Holding out for a man who has been gone for quadruple the amount of time you spent together and you guess maybe it is crazy, but for Jihoon you would do anything.

It is true that you two were only together for five months before his deployment, but even before he left you knew you were madly in love with Lee Jihoon. You spent your nights reading the letters Jihoon sent you, and writing ones back. You would think you two had been lovers for fifty years rather than five months.

You’ve always felt the pull towards Jihoon though, like you’ve been loving him all your life. Every letter he sent made you fall in love with him even more, and now two years later he’s finally coming home. 

The days were hard without him when you saw him nearly everyday before he left. Winter of 1952 was less than kind, taking your father with it and leaving you alone for the last seven months, wishing for nothing but for Jihoon to come home. Now he is and you couldn’t be more elated.

The people standing around you start to cheer when someone catches sight of the bus, but you can’t do anything but stand there, your heart pounding in your chest. When the bus stops and soldiers start to pour out you have a moment of doubt. The fear that Jihoon won’t want you anymore, that everything has changed for the worse, creeps into your mind.

The thoughts can barely form though because then Jihoon’s stepping off the bus and his skin is so much tanner than it used to be and you’ve never seen him with his hair so short but it’s Jihoon, your Jihoon. His eyes light up when he catches sight of your familiar face and he’s dropping his bags and running towards you.

His arms are locked around your waist and you’re being lifted off the ground. You cup Jihoon’s face in your hands and lean down to kiss him as he spins you two around, easing all of the worries in your mind. Your cheeks dampen as tears start to stream down your face, too many emotions coursing through you to keep them all on the inside.

You keep your hands on Jihoon’s face as he sets you down. You stroke his cheek, feeling his warm skin under your touch. “You’re here, you’re really here.”

“I’m here my love, I’m here, and I’m never leaving you again.”

It doesn’t take much longer for you and Jihoon to leave the station. You two sit in the back of his car, pressed together as Jihoon presses kisses to your face every few minutes. You’re not much better though, leaning into him with a dopey grin on your face, ready to start your new life with the man you love the most.

The next time you see Jihoon isn’t at the antique shop at all. You’re getting coffee at the cafe next to your apartment when you see the man walk in. His eyes light up a bit when he sees you and he makes a beeline to your table after getting his drink.

“Is this seat open?” He asks, pointing to the empty chair across from you.

“Of course.”

Jihoon takes a seat before turning his attention to you. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Maybe it’s fate,” you say teasingly but Jihoon just grins.

“Maybe it is,” his voice is smooth as he talks, and your breath gets caught in your throat, “I mean, I wouldn’t be upset if I was destined to meet you over and over again.”

You break his gaze, trying not to show him how flustered you are. “You’re quite the sweet talker you know? You don’t know anything about me-”

“No, but I don’t think it would be hard to learn. I’m starting to think we’re not really strangers at all. You can’t tell me that you aren’t a bit interested in me as well.”

You glance back at Jihoon to find him staring intently at him. His eyes are warm and deep and you can feel yourself being drawn in, like you’ve stared at those eyes a million times before. There’s an inviting sense to all of Jihoon and the only thing you can think of to describe it as is home. 

“Okay,” you tell him with a slight grin. “Let’s see if destiny is right.”

And really you don’t care if it is fate or not, because as you and Jihoon fall into a comfortable conversation you realize that the two of you meeting was no mistake, and that you could definitely love Lee Jihoon for multiple lifetimes. 

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[menagerlie]

WOULD YOU STILL LOVE ME IF I WAS A WORM?

furina, lyney, & navia… if they became the worm. gn reader. headcanon format. short, trying to figure out tumblr. pt 1 maybe if i think it’s funny enough to add more characters.

FURINA:

she’s living like this now.

that’s it that’s the post.

i think she’d. leave before anyone had the chance to find her tbh, since she lives alone now... alternatively if it was before everything happened i fear she would just further become entertainment. hydro archon is a… worm ??? 😱😱😱 is this the purest form of water.

how much of worms are water

more than 75%.

they’re just like us fr… new conspiracy theory

we’re all worms.

anywayyyy

fontainians are so funny

would she be disappointed at the lack of mac and cheese? maybe. but in the aftermath of everything, she’s looking for simplicity, for reprieve and a way to enjoy life in the barest of forms. of course becoming a worm would be hard to get used to, but i think she could, fairly easily actually in the grand scheme of things. maybe it’s close enough to what she wants.

she’s been in a human body while playing the role of a god for 500 years. i think she could use a change

becoming a worm in this situation is sort of a metaphor for her situation actually. hehe. learning to live with such a modest, small existence after a lifetime of a lavish, celebrated, constantly watched one. and learning to love it— gunshot

after so long of pretending perhaps being a worm would allow her to shed her old skin and simply be.

i think she deserves it

anyway if you lived with her or visited her like every day, maybe she’d just like. curl up and wait. would probably be fairly particular about how she likes her . um. enclosure.

treat furm kindly or i will get you

:3c

as a wild worm, probably extra afraid of the water. panics in the rain. would be the first up if charmed.

like. worm charming. not. you know what i mean

ok so i’ve been enlightened. that is not why worms come up. ignore that

would wormtainians dissolve

erm. next.

oh yeah. if she’s able to turn back, she’d be happy and relieved of course, but i don’t think she’d be as upset about the experience as the others (except for the fact it may be a bit embarrassing, especially if you saw her). she’s lived a long time, she’s seen a lot, i think she’d appreciate the new perspective. even if it was. silly :3

LYNEY:

oh yeah. totally normal . wait. what

i think he’d magic pocket himself . he’d be safe in there for a bit . right

do you think worms could do card tricks.

do you think he could use his vision

worm. on fire.

anyway

i think he’d try and find out wtf happened and try to get himself to turn back first. if he couldn’t/needs help he’s going to try and find lynette first.

he’s silly to get loved ones’ attention. flips over. attempts to lift a card. rolls around

imagine he could change to a worm and back at will and used it in his shows

disappearing act . but what you don’t know is that there’s a tiny worm on the stage.

i keep getting distracted.

wonders what’s going on but thinks it’s funny at first. then it’s like. oh. oh!!

tries his best to figure out how to turn back. there’s panic there definitely, as any sane person would have, but i think it would especially set in after a little while — he starts thinking less about himself and more about his siblings, father, and you. will you know it’s him? he’s stripped of his capabilities, his tongue, his tricks. he was never a good fighter, but like this he is completely helpless.

if he can’t turn back, i think he’d want to stay w/ lynette at all times. sorry. she’s getting enclosure privileges . you can visit though

would a sentient worm be a funny addition to a magic show

could a worm gather intelligence..?

that would be funny

lynette just sets him down places to eavesdrop and he somehow idk recounts what he heard later

weaponized wormification

anyway. learns to live with it, especially if he’s able to stay near his siblings, though not as comfortably as the others

if he turns back he’s very relieved, a bit shaken. not because of really being a worm but just the helplessness that comes with losing your entire body and existence and what you deem useful about yourself . i think this goes for all of them, though

he’s okay

NAVIA:

president, leader, boss, commander-in-chief of the spina di rosula. my girl !!

you think anything’s changing??? nuh uh

get her some nice soil and a piece of paper with letters on it. congratulations . you’re her translator now.

my sister said wormija board im dying

anyway

might be a little shocked at first and wonder what’s going on, but ultimately i think she’d have fun being a worm if she knew she was going to turn back. she’s sillay like that. i loove her

i think first and foremost she’d try to get the attention of you or other loved ones. might stay close to something of hers if there isn’t a way to reach someone quickly, to try and signal that she’s. herselfff

but like she’s having fun. she’s enjoying it. unbothered queen

so wormquette !! :3c

in wormification angst land, she would mourn her human body but if there’s no way to get it back, she’s not going to let it stop her. she’s been through hardship before. she has overcome it before and she can do it again.

would be the best worm president, leader, boss, commander-in-chief to ever live. for sure

girlypop. she eats. she would slay . beauty and brains even in a worm body. :3

would not be that picky about living space tbh . might like some decorations and a nice place to sleep, though. i think she’d like it being watered! unlike someone.

unbothered. moisturized. happy. in her lane. focused. flourishing.

she’d enjoy sweet fruits in particular! worm version of baked goods.

considering the people she’s lost to being dissolved though, being wormified is kind of funny. like . similar situation (losing your body etc) but she’s still here

:3

hehe. fate

worm angst…

i’m silly

promise

[totheblood]

superposition. (five)

pairing: dealer!ellie x best friend!reader

summary: ellie goes to bloomingdales and gets a little brown bag, and you come over

warnings: 18+ sm*t! cursing, drug/alcohol mention and use, ch

a/n: this is not proofread! i am writing this on like six benadryl.. so don't hate me.. ok I love u and I am happy I wrote this also reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses

wc: 3.4k

masterlist for previous chapters

"no matter what we do, i'll be there with you."

Ellie was over this.

Sooo over this, she told herself as she found herself trailing behind Dina in a Bloomingdales, stopping at the Tom Ford counter to smell your perfume. Hands tucked in pockets as she glanced up at the sales associate that eyed her, a polite but forced smile on her face. In her blue and white flannel, Ellie was sure she wasn’t the target demographic. 

“Are you looking for anything specific?” Her voice was sing-songy and Ellie was internally cringing at how she knew this was going to go. 

“I’m uh-- looking for a scent,” Ellie awkwardly spat out. Obviously, she was looking for a perfume… at the goddamn perfume counter.  “It’s um… sweet… or fruity.”

“Does it smell like a specific fruit by any chance?” The lady asked, it looked like she was in pain behind her smile. Ellie was sure she was just projecting.  Her own nose scrunched up, indicating she didn’t know the answer to the question. 

“I don’t know… it’s um…” Ellie looked around as if she was searching for the answer, “Maybe it’s lemon? I don’t know… it’s for my girlfriend. It’s in a white bottle with a gold label.” Ellie knew you weren’t her girlfriend, she wasn’t even sure if you were friends anymore but it couldn’t hurt to pretend. 

“Oh, Soleil Blanc!” She practically yelled, picking up the bottle in front of her and spraying a bit of it onto a testing strip. She handed the flimsy paper to Ellie and Ellie had to mentally prepare herself before smelling it. Ellie brought it up to her nose and took a deep breath in, eyes fluttering closed as she did. If she closed them for long enough she could imagine you here, and instead of the annoying sales lady, there would be you. You would probably be smelling every perfume imaginable and holding tightly onto Ellie’s arm, but when Ellie opened her eyes you weren’t there. There was just the annoying sales lady and her. 

“Is that what you were looking for?” She asked, fake smile still on her face. 

“Um… yeah…” Ellie smiled as politely as she could, but she could feel herself shaking. It was almost as if she was on the verge of a panic attack but never really crossed the threshold. She never really flipped out or cried, she just shook for a bit and moved on. “I’ll take it. How much is it?”

“It’s only 295 dollars.” The sales lady said with a straight face as Ellie practically choked on her spit. How the fuck did you afford this? And why was this bitch saying ‘only’ as if that wasn’t an absurd amount of mone-

“Yeah, I’ll take it,” Ellie pursed her lips as she handed over her card. If she was being completely honest she had almost too much money and nothing to spend it on. And if she was being brutally honest with herself, the 295 was worth it right now. She didn’t want to admit it, but she needed you right now, and Tom Ford had your scent bottled up. 

“Your girlfriend is a lucky lady,” She laughed as she rang Ellie up, putting it in a gift bag without asking Ellie if she wanted it wrapped in the first place.

“I’m the lucky one,” Ellie said instinctively. She was already playing the role, so she might as well commit to the bit. Ellie had honestly never been a girlfriend, so she didn’t know if she was doing it right, but she assumed this was how it went. 

Apart from her domestic fantasies about you, she hadn’t really thought about being in a relationship. The idea made her sick to her stomach, but now she didn’t know if it was because she couldn’t imagine being with anyone but you or if her fear of commitment was out to get her. 

She wasn’t a complete idiot when it came to relationships though. She had dated this one girl her sophomore year in high school which abruptly ended when the girl's father found out about them. Ellie was sad about it for maybe a week but moved on when she found something else to fill her ever-running mind. 

Ellie wanted to be your first girlfriend, that much she knew, but that dream had taken a quick and bitter ending. Her face soured at the idea that she would never get that opportunity. She could never call you her high school sweetheart or any straight and corny crap she could think of. The sickly sweet dream was now something rotten. She was buying your perfume for fucksake. 

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” She smiled again, tucking the receipt into the bag and handing it over to Ellie, “Have a good day!”

Ellie found Dina looking through clothing racks somewhere in the back, approaching her and leaning up against the wall, knowing they would be there for some time. Dina had to do a double take when she saw the little brown bag in Ellie’s hand.

“What did you buy?” She breathed out a laugh before turning back to the racks and holding up what looked like a leather jacket. 

“Nothing,” Ellie sighed, rolling her eyes. She flexed her feet, looking down at them, anything to avoid eye contact right now.

“Why are you being weird?” Dina asked, deciding to put the jacket back and continue looking through the mixed clothes, “Like what did you buy at Bloomingdales that you don’t want me to know about?”

“It’s just..” Another puff of air from Ellie’s lips, “It’s a perfume. I just spent a ridiculous amount of money on it and I don’t want you to make fun of me for it.” It was a half-lie.

“What perfume?” Dina looked at her temporarily, causing Ellie to shift uncomfortably, but she quickly turned to another rack of clothes. 

“It’s this one from Tom Ford…” Dina stopped in her tracks as Ellie spoke, “Called Soleil Blanc or whatever.”

Dina was frozen for a moment before she turned to Ellie, her hand on her hip and face serious. 

“You bought her perfume?” Dina’s voice was sharp. She didn’t really know what was happening between the two of you but she knew that you hadn’t talked in a while and Ellie was barely leaving her apartment. It didn’t take a genius to complete the dots, but if it did Dina would still qualify. 

“I-I,” Ellie stuttered out, green eyes wide as she looked around, “No, it’s not for her. I-It’s for me. I like the scent. It’s nice.”

“You’re so full of shit, Ellie.”

“I’m not.”

“You fucking are,” Dina rolled her eyes as she started heading towards the door, Ellie hot on her trail, “You’re probably going to spray your pillow and hump it while you pretend it’s her.” Not a bad idea, Ellie thought. 

“I’m not!” Ellie followed her as her footsteps picked up, “It’s just a nice scent, and I like it. It’s not weird… I’m not a creep or anything, okay? The scent soothes me.”

“Yeah, cause she’s your fucking pacifier!” Dina whisper yelled as they approached the car, “She’s been your pacifier since junior year.”

“My pacifier? The fuck does that mean?” Ellie swung her door open, got in the passenger seat and buckled herself in.

“It means you practically rely on her to remain calm,” Dina explained, hopping in the car and breathing out a laugh as she shook her head, “I used to think it was just a weird friendship thing but I’m starting to believe you’re actually in love with her.”

The air in the car changed for a moment as Ellie stared blankly at Dina. She didn’t know what to say. Any claim that she wasn’t in love with you would come out in a stuttered mess and admitting to someone else that she was in love with you was something she didn’t feel like doing today. 

“Oh my fucking god,” Dina sighed, rubbing her face with the palms of her hands, “You’re fucking in love with her.”

“Yeah,” was all Ellie said as she leaned back in her seat and let Dina drive her home.

--

She didn’t want to think about it anymore. That night when she got home and got out of the shower, skin still damp and hair still wet, she soaked herself in the perfume, put on ‘The Office’, and ate a frozen pizza. This was pathetic, all of it. The pining, the wallowing, the perfume. She fell asleep after pitying herself for a while, the day finally getting to her. 

She was woken up by loud knocks on her door, jolting her awake. She was honestly pissed as she stumbled over to the door wiping the sleep from her eyes. She opened the door without thinking, the possibility of someone bursting through the door only to murder her sounding more than tempting right now, but when she opened the door she was met with your face. 

Your bare face, tired eyes, and tied-back hair. No smile on your face, but your eyes had the creases in them that they had when you did. You were in your pajamas, like you had decided on a whim to come over here. Wait, why were you here?

“Uh,” Ellie said awkwardly, shifting to lean against her door frame as she looked at you.

“Can I come in?” you asked.

“Why?”

“Ellie, let me in,” and she had already moved to the side, allowing you to slip past her as she closed and locked her door. Someone could murder her, but if you were here the door was staying closed. 

“Why are you here?” Ellie sighed, rubbing her face with one hand, voice raspy and deep from sleep.

“I…” You took a deep breath and steadied yourself, “Are.. are you wearing my perfume?” Ellie’s eyes widened as she shifted uncomfortably.

“What? No,” Ellie quickly defended, “Just tell me why you’re here before I kick you out.”

“I just was thinking about what you said to me at the gala,” you began, “I can’t get it out of my head, I can’t get you out of my head.” Ellie’s heart was already racing at this. Pathetic. 

“So?”

“So?” you repeated back to her, “Stop being a bitch, Ellie. You got to confess now it’s my turn. Don’t ruin it.” That shut Ellie up real fast. 

“I just didn’t know why it wasn’t the same with… her,” you looked down at her feet, fluffy socks covering them. Cute, “I just didn’t understand it, but I think it’s love… or love adjacent,” you sighed, “Fuck, I don’t know.”

“What about your girlfriend?” Ellie reminded you.

“She’s not my girlfriend anymore, it’s not completely over but we aren’t dating.”

“Not completely over? What the fuck does that mean?” Ellie knew she sounded like a bitch but she couldn’t help herself, all of it was too confusing. 

“I don’t know, Ellie! I don’t know what any of this means, I didn’t know what it was like to be with someone else until you kissed me. This was your bright idea and it,” you took a long deep breath, rolling your eyes, “and it was a fucking dumb one. I already liked you at that point and it confused me, okay? I mean, what the fuck was that? You were going to fuck me to ‘teach me’, I mean?”

“Pe-”

“And stop with that shit! My fucking pet name? Seriously? This isn’t normal, this wasn’t normal and now you’re acting like I did something wrong by dating someone, who you helped me date? I didn’t know what was even happening until you were telling me you liked me days after she asked me to be her girlfriend!”

“Did you come here to yell at me?” Ellie said calmly. It was only making you more angry.

“I came here to tell you I liked you and you’re being an asshole so I get to yell at you!” You huffed, your nostrils flared and your hand had found its way to your hip. Ellie hated how much she was attracted to you at this exact moment. 

“I’m not being an asshole, I just don’t know what you want me to do,” She pinched the bridge of her nose, looking you up and down, “You’re still seeing her, and I’m done sharing you.”

“I won’t see her anymore.”

“Are you serious?” She laughed.

“Dead fucking serious,” you scrambled to pull out your phone, “I’ll block her number right now.”

“You don’t have t-”

“I will.”

“Why?”

“Cause I want you,” you sounded exhausted like you had said this a thousand times before, “And no matter how hard I try no one will ever be you and I’m tired of acting like this isn’t what I want. Like you aren’t who I want.”

Ellie licked her lip, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth as she rubbed at her chin. She was acting like she was thinking, but she had already made up her mind. She wanted you. 

Ellie didn’t have it in her to be upset with you anymore as she saw the genuine desperation in your eyes. She wanted to kiss the worried look off your face, nip at your skin as she told you it was okay, that you were forgiven. She wanted to do that but instead, she walked over to you, closing the distance between the two of you.

"You better not be fucking with me," she warned, her voice coming out in a whisper, as her eyes flicked down to your lips.

You shook your head, your own eyes looking down at her lips as you stepped closer, "I'm not. I promise."

Ellie didn’t want to wait any longer. Without another word, she grabbed you by your hips, pulling at you but ultimately balling the material of your sweatshirt in her hands. She pulled you into her, pressing her lips to yours, slow and sweet. Like always, her eyes fluttered closed, as she felt you loosen up in her grip. Your own hand reached up to grab at her arms. You were just as touch-starved and desperate as her. The taste of your lips was making her dizzy, a mixture of sweetness and desire that made her head spin. She could feel the heat radiating between you, coming off you in waves. It smelled like lemon. 

Her hands roamed over your body, grabbing at anything she could. Your ass, thighs, tits. They were all hers. She could feel herself growing wet as you stuck your tongue in her mouth and was only met with a moan. All she could taste was mint and all she could smell was lemon and she was certain she was going to pass out. 

With a sudden surge of urgency, Ellie pushed you against her kitchen table, helping you sit on it as she pushed her unopened mail to the side. She pulled away for a moment to look at you. You looked so pretty with swollen lips, tip of your nose slightly red from her own brushing against yours. 

“You’re so fucking pretty, Petal,” she pushed a stray hair out of your face smiling as she gently kissed your lips. It was short and sweet and made your heart race. The initial thrill was gone and you were left with heavy breathing and an intimate stare. Her hands dipped into the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling at them gently, “Can I take these off for you?” 

She smiled and kissed you again as you nodded. She pulled them down and let them fall to the floor, leaning down to press a kiss to your thigh, making you shiver. You weren’t wearing anything special, just some grey briefs that betrayed you by showing the damp spot between your legs. 

“Sit back for me,” Ellie instructed, moving you backward so you could put the soles of your feet on the table. You did as you were told, leaning up on your elbows to get a good look at her. Ellie pulled a chair up, sitting in front of you. Her hand grabbed at your ankle, rubbing the skin as she leaned forward to lick you through your underwear. The sudden contact made you gasp and close your eyes. She looked up at you and smiled, before licking again, and closing her mouth around your clothed clit and sucking gently. 

All of her movement was excruciatingly slow as she pulled at the hem of your underwear, dragging them up and over your legs and throwing them to the side. This wasn’t the first time she saw you like this, but every time she did she felt her own clit aching. She leaned down again and slowly licked up your cunt, from your entrance to clit, sucking again as she flicked her tongue against you. As she did this her own hand traveled lower, sticking into the waistband of her pants and circling her clit. It didn’t help that you were whimpering beneath her, words that sounded like her name coming from your mouth. 

She wasn’t being vocal this time, though. She was focusing solely on you and how her own pleasure was growing.  

You moaned out loud this time as she slid two fingers inside you, her fingers curling upwards as she did so. Ellie's touch was both gentle and demanding, her fingers brushing a sensitive spot inside you, causing you to gasp out again. The rhythm of her movements never sped up, they were slow and calculated and she had only pumped her fingers in and out of you a few times before she was pulling them out and licking them clean.

Ellie stood up and guided you to the edge of the table, pulling one of your legs off the table and leaving one firmly planted on the table.

“You’re okay?” She checked in momentarily, placing her hands on your hips as you sat up. 

“More than okay,” you smiled leaning forward to kiss her again. She groaned into the kiss and took a step back, stripping her pants from her body and pulling off her underwear, and throwing it into the pile where yours was. You decided to be bold and reach forward to circle her clit with your fingers, causing her to groan, throw her head back, and grip at the edge of the table. 

“Fuck,” she cursed out, grinding into your touch almost forgetting her plans. Almost. She grabbed at your wrist stopping you, and pulling your hand off of her. 

“Was that not,” you mumbled out, “was that not good?”

“No, shit…” Ellie cursed under her breath, “It was too good. I just.. I had other plans, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled, still unsure of yourself.

Ellie lifted one of her legs onto the table, so her cunt was positioned right on top of yours. Her gaze locked with yours as she slowly ground her hips into you, earning a loud gasp from you as you grabbed onto her, your own juices mixing with hers. You could tell how wet she was which only egged you on, making your eyes roll back into your head as she ground faster into you, her own breathing heavy and shallow. She was panting as she gripped onto your thigh, nails leaving marks there. Her other hand reached up to reach the back of your neck as she sped up once again.

“Came back to me just for this…” She breathed out, “She couldn’t make you cum… She could never make you look like this.”

As both of your moans grew louder, Ellie’s grip only tightened on you, the phrase “you’re mine” falling from her lips multiple times. The pleasure and pressure was overwhelming, a deep knot in your stomach was begging to come undone.

“Ellie, I’m going to-”

“Cum,” she demanded as her movements sped up and became more sloppy. She was about burst. As your moans grew louder and faster, and she could tell you were about to cum, she pressed her lips to yours, moaning as her hand that was gripping your thigh rested on your table. You came as she kissed you. 

She pulled away, her leg falling from the table as she leaned against the table, both of her hands gripping the edge. She didn’t want to look up at you, scared that you would have decided by now that you wanted to leave her. Reluctantly she looked up at your sweaty face to see you smiling at her, toothy grin and all making her smile back. 

“Oh, you soooo have a crush on me,” you teased.

“Oh, shut up. So do you.”

[yeahtimesten]

a wedding to remember pt 1 - p.z

fake dating au, wedding guests, patrick zweig x reader

patrick zweig is desperate to prove to his parents he can make a commitment to tennis, by using you to show his parents he can commit, period.

multi parts, warnings - lots of cussing

Art Donaldson, Tashi Duncan, Patrick Zweig, and you all sat together in the Stanford dining call, the girls next to each other and the boys across. They all dug into their meals, making small talk, until:

“So, I gotta head out for practice,” Tashi said, gathering her things onto her tray and rising off of the booth. “Maybe later you two can meet us at our dorm and we can watch a movie or something.” She smiled at the two boys, as she traced her fingers down your hair.

“I actually have to head to my study group right now,” Art followed suit. “I’ll see you guys later.” The two walked out of the cafeteria together and the two of you remained seated, finishing your meals.

“What are you up to after this,” Patrick asked you, sliding his body across the bench to be face to face. “Got any plans?”

Patrick and you, within the two years you’d known each other, had never really hung out alone together. Usually, at least Tashi or Art accompanied you whenever Patrick came to visit. He wasn’t sure if he could consider you a friend, he mostly knew you as Tashi’s roommate, an acquaintance at best. You were sweet, you listened to his stories and told him your own. Whenever he came over, you had snacks that you knew he liked ready. Patrick knew your preferred choice of souvenirs were keychains and shot glasses, and he brought you some every time he came to visit from touring. But, they weren’t by any means close the way that Art and Patrick or Tashi and you were.

So, when Patrick asked you what you were doing next, you felt a bit awkward. Did he want to hang out or was he just being polite? Did he want something?

“I was just going to go back to my dorm and study,” you said plainly, taking another bite of her sandwich.

“I’ll walk you back,” he offered, with a small smile.

The two of you wrapped up your meals and headed out of the dining hall.

“So, what are your plans for this summer,” Patrick asked, biting the skin around his nails. He looked down the whole time, hoping not to catch your eyes.

“Um, well, I was going to go back home and find a full time job, I guess. Just save up money for next semester,” you shrugged. “What about you? Continuing your tour?”

“Uh, yeah, I’ve got a few trips planned for later in the season, more towards fall actually,” he sighed and put his hands in his pockets. “Actually, my sister is getting married in two weeks so after my match next week in Indian Wells, I’ll fly out there to attend.”

Your both approached your dorm and you invited in Patrick, who took a seat on your bed and you at your desk.

“Oh that sounds like fun, Patrick,” you smiled at him, before quickly clocking a face contorted and twisted with disagreement. “Or, no, not fun? I know you talk a lot of shit about your family and your parents but it can’t be that bad, can it?” He eyed the girl in front of him who was so naive and unaware of his dysfunctional family.

“You don’t understand, they’re fucking crazy,” Patrick sighed. He pulled his legs up to sit cross legged in your bed.

You started to flip through your notebook and set up to study. “Okay, well do you have a role in the wedding or something? Are you the best man or a groomsmen?”

He scoffed. “God, no.”

“Alright then, just go for the actual wedding,” you shrugged, not looking away from your notes. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be weird to bring Art along, then you could just pick up a bridesmaid and call it a day.”

“I already have a plus one,” he coughed, and started biting his nails yet again.

“Oh, who,” you inquired, still more focused on your papers.

A beat of silence. Patrick placed his hands in his lap and looked at you, with a deeper tone of seriousness. You turned his way and caught his face, still as a stone. He looked like he had just been carved from marble, he was so still.

Your eyebrows furrowed and your head cocked to the side. “Who?” You repeated, growing worried and confused.

Patrick swallowed hard, unsure how to go about his words. “You, I hope.”

Patrick had been acting weird all day, you had caught that. Someone who was normally loud, unfiltered, and extroverted was suddenly quiet, reserved, and seemingly anxious as soon as he had seen you this morning. You blinked rapidly, trying to process what he said.

“Me? What do you mean me?”

“I want to take you to my sister’s wedding,” Patrick said plainly, with newfound sturdiness. He sat back on his hands and continued to look at you, who had now turned your chair to face him.

“Okay, I get that,” you nodded. “But, why? What for?”

“Well, like you said, it sounds like fun,” Patrick lightly chuckled, eliciting a sigh from you.

“Patrick, be for real.” You leaned forward in your swivel chair. “Why me? Why not Art? Or Tashi, even?”

“I have a favor to ask of you,” Patrick regained his seriousness. “A huge favor.” You just looked at him with wide impatient eyes, your arms gesturing for him to continue. “I need you to come to this wedding with me… And pretend to date me.” He sighed as if he’d been holding his breath for a long time, the weight of the request off his shoulders at last.

But, your face just contorted in more confusion.

“What? What the fuck, Patrick?! What for?”

“It’s hard to explain-“

“Well, try!” Patrick opened his mouth again, but you cut him off. “I mean, I don’t see why you can’t ask Tashi. I’m not good at lying, and I’m not trying to say anything about Tashi, she’s my best friend, but she’d be much better at something like that than I am.”

“Tashi wouldn’t work, she wouldn’t sell it,” he muttered more to himself. “I don’t know why you, y/n. You are sweet and polite, but cutthroat when need be. You’re smart, determined, pretty. You tell all these stories about how great you are with your friend’s parents, selling them an illusion of safety for their children before taking them to parties or whatever the fuck, so you must be kind of good at lying.” What started off so sweet, turned accusatory, and you couldn’t brush past that.

“I never sold an illusion. We stayed safe and out of trouble, none of my friends ever got hurt or arrested, so I wasn’t lying,” you corrected. “Just to go to some house parties, by the way. Not like we were knocking down some liquor stores.”

“I recall a story you told us about you calling your friend’s strict mom posing as a teacher asking for consent for her son to stay late for an extra curricular event so you take him and your friends to a concert.”

“I didn’t say I was a teacher, I introduced myself as Ms. y/l/n, and that I wanted to him to participate in a concert as an extra curricular activity to enrich his knowledge in music. We were in choir together! I never lied,” she pointed at him. “But again, Tashi can lie and she’s all those other things you listed. Ask her, I’m sure Art wouldn’t mind, he loves your schemes even when he warns you against them.”

“I already said Tashi wouldn’t work,” Patrick grew exasperated. He knew there might be some pushback and didn’t think you would just say yes on a whim, even though that’s what he hoped. But he actually hadn’t planned out the conversation very well to convince you. “Listen, my parents aren’t big fans of me playing tennis. They want me to quit, or at least step back a bit for now, and give me a seat on their company board. They say I can’t take anything seriously and say I won’t amount to much and I’ll just end up a washed up athlete someday. Tashi is a tennis player and they know that and even though she is all of those things, it would just come off as biased. You could convince them that maybe tennis isn’t half bad and that I can take something seriously and commit and have children to pass on the family wealth and name. You can sell that in a way she can’t.”

Your stern look softened. You sympathized with him. No, you didn’t have the slightest clue of what it was like to have parents who didn’t support you, but you had plenty of friends who had similar experiences of wanting to go through with their dreams but were held back by unsupportive parents.

“So? Will you attend the wedding with me?” You stayed quiet, biting the inside of your cheek. “We’ll be there for a week, we’ll attend a few get togethers before the main event. We aren’t in the wedding party, we’re just guests. The food will be good, I’ll even take you into the city.” He was desperate, and he grabbed both of your arms. “Please?”

You looked up at him, deep into his pleading eyes. Your heart melted, feeling needed by him. It’s true, you’d had a crush on him for a long two years. It wasn’t painful or deep. You knew he was hot stuff, you loved the way he made you laugh, you loved the tidbits of undivided attention he’d give you when you told a story. You were looking for any excuse to say no.

“I’m not good at lying,” you reinforced.

“You don’t have to be, you can be yourself. Holding hands occasionally isn’t a lie. My parents will appreciate the lack of PDA otherwise. And they might try to get to know you, surface level stuff, but they won’t drill you. They stopped asking so many questions when they asked a girl I brought over how it was like growing up in the plains of Montana and she got offended because she thought they called her state ugly and boring.” You both shared a giggle in what was before such a serious conversation, which made Patrick feel all the more comfortable. “She got so worked up and said ‘Montana may not seem like much, but it’s far from plain. It’s my home and it’s beautiful.’” He did a poor impression of the girl, eliciting more laughter from you.

“Poor girl,” you joked. “But, honestly Patrick, I can’t afford a plane ticket. And I know it’s just a week, but I was hoping to get a summer job as soon as possible to save as much as I can. I don’t even have a dress to wear to a wedding.” You hated admitting that, even though it was true. It wasn’t an excuse, it was a valid reason. You didn’t want to say no. Even though Patrick’s parents sounded like a pain in the ass, it did sound fun to prance around a mansion for a week.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting you to pay,” Patrick laughed. “It’s my treat, the whole week. Any expense, I’ll take care of. You can even go dress shopping on my dime. I know this is a lot to ask of you, I’ll make sure that you’re compensated.”

“God, Patrick, if you insist,” you teased. “I won’t hear you beg any longer.”

He scooped you into a big hug. “Thank you, y/n, seriously.” He gave you a peck on the cheek, causing you to blush.

once i had a love - blondie

Finals were over, closing up another year of college. Tashi and you stood in the shared dorm, packing away bags for summer break.

“So, you’re going to pretend to be Patrick’s girlfriend for a week,” Tashi stated, but it was also a question.

“Yeah, I guess,” you shrugged.

Neither of you were facing each other. Both of your luggage was stacked on beds on opposite sides of the room.

“I just don’t understand why.”

“I don’t either. He said I’ll impress his parents and I guess make them more accepting of him playing tennis? I don’t know…”

“No I mean, I don’t understand why you said yes.” You continued folding clothes and cramming your suitcases.

“Because he asked, I guess? It’s not like I had anything better planned, to be honest.”

“You’re too nice, y/n,” Tashi sighed. “And Patrick is a pussy. If he really loved tennis, he’d take it more seriously and he wouldn’t care what his parents think, he’d just go for it.”

“I don’t know, Tashi,” you sighed back, with a tinge of attitude. “But, I already obliged and he already bought the ticket, so… Too late now, I guess.”

A beat of silence passed.

“Are you mad at me?” Tashi finally turned towards you. “I’m not talking shit, I’m just being honest. I’m just saying, maybe if he put in an effort and didn’t glide by on talent alone, maybe his parents would take him seriously and support him.”

You stopped mid shirt fold to meet Tashi’s face. “No, Tashi, I’m not mad. I get it. I’ve heard you and Art talk to him about getting a higher education, applying to go here and be guided by an actual coach and trainers. I don’t know anything about tennis but, I agree. And I don’t know what me being there will do to actually help. But like I said, I have nothing better to do… And honestly? I’m excited to see his house. I’ve never been inside a mansion before, or even to an actual wedding, besides when I was a little kid and I was the flower girl.”

“Ha, I bet you were such a cute flower girl,” Tashi said, shaking her head. By now, the two of you had resumed packing. “Hey, remember those photos I showed you from the party Adidas threw me after I won the junior open?”

“Yeah?” Tashi turned her head to look at you.

“Patrick’s house is bigger than that,” Tashi nodded, as you turned her head, jaw dropped.

“No fuckin’ way,” you scoffed. “That place looked huge. Even bigger than that?”

“That’s what Art told me.”

“What’s up with you and Art anyways? Like, what’s the move between you two?”

“Well, I’m not initiating the ‘what are we’ conversation. Nuh, uh. We’ve been fucking around, and I know he likes me, and I think I’ve made it apparent that I like him back. He’s just taking his sweet ass time making it official,” Tashi explained. “Like we are basically together, but I don’t run off assumptions. I like labels, sooo. I don’t wanna say I’ll drop him but I don’t want to wait around forever, you know. I deserve more than a nonchalant boyfriend thing.”

“Art is not nonchalant,” you laughed. “He’s so obsessed with you, he’s just shy. Maybe he’s trying to wait for the right time.”

“There is no time like the present,” Tashi said. “Well, I don’t think we’ll see each other all summer… So, we’ll see.”

a/n - praying to gawd that i actually keep up with this. reminder you don’t have to listen to any song i link or even canonize any outfits i may link, tbh. i do it for self indulgence

divider by @/chachachannah

[son1c]

Ok but what does Shadow think of Jack and Teddy? Is he indifferent to them or do they big their way into his mind?

jack pisses him off cuz she's very combative and rude. this is HER town, these are HER slopes, and when shadow starts to infringe on ""HER"" rival, she teams up with sonic to take him down. like, she's petty enough to put her and sonic's rivalry aside if it means putting shadow in his place.

however, shadow might also see her attitude as a little... refreshing? it's hard to explain. but like, snowpoint is this idyllic hallmark town where everyone is nice and welcoming (to an uncanny and scary degree). so to have jack be like "piss off, i hate you" has shadow being like "finally, someone normal" LMAOOOOO

later when she decides to work with shadow as a means to protect her town, he doesn't really wanna. let her help? i mean, he's the ultimate lifeform. he's got this. he doesn't NEED anyone's help. but jack is SO pushy, and she's kind of... right. about how she knows her way around better than shadow, since she grew up around here. and she can get herself out of any sticky situation irt the terrain, whereas shadow has been struggling a little bit, because the ice and snow seriously disagree with his chosen mode of transportation (heat-based rocket skates).

so he begrudgingly agrees to let her help. and she pulls her weight. he's gotta respect it.

as for teddy... yeah, he doesn't like him at all at first. at least with jack, he's not unfamiliar with her specific type of bad attitude? but with teddy, it's different. he does feel a little bad for him, since, once he figures out that starline is behind everything, he also realizes that teddy has been manipulated into playing the role of sonic's "love interest" and has had his feelings messed with as a result.

shadow can sympathize.

and maybe he even opens up to teddy about it, just a little bit. that sort of emotional manipulation is extremely difficult to come to terms with, it can flip your whole world upside down. and he's BEEN there, with maria's promise being twisted into something so violent in the past. but teddy would've thrown it back in his face, like, "you're only saying that so you can have sonic all to yourself" or something like that. and for shadow, who rarely EVER offers that sort of openness, it would've stung.

but again, it's. familiar. isn't it?

and at the end of it all, shadow is just a little bit enamoured by teddy's boldness. maybe it was a little late, but teddy finally responded to shadow's openness with some of his own. and it's not every day mr dark and brooding gets a kiss for saving the day!