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something-tofightfor · 2 years ago

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Competing For Christmas 1: The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Pairing: Modern Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 7,584

Rating: T/M: There’s some language. That’s about it.

Summary: As the holidays approach, it’s time to start seriously thinking about how you’ll spend them - and who you’ll spend them with.

After breaking the ice with your coworker Din, the future becomes a little clearer ... and you begin to see some of the possibilities.

Author’s notes:

It’s here! This is the first part of my 2022 Hallmark Christmas celebration. You voted and you chose this story as the winner - so I hope you all enjoy it.

I’m planning on releasing this in real time for each part to coincide with the dates of the events that take place in the story... but don’t hold me to that because as we all know, the holidays can and do - usually get a little hectic.

We’re playing a little fast and loose with some canon Mando elements - and I’m picturing Din as a little younger than he is in the show; early-mid 30′s. Reader will have no specified characteristics or age, aside from the fact that she is over 21 (legally allowed to drink in the US), celebrates Christmas, and she does/will have hair that is of a length that can be covered (you’ll see).

Questions, concerns, comments? My inbox is open! I tried to keep this brief, and yet again... was unable to. You should all know the drill by now.

To get alerted when I post new chapters/stories, follow @somethingtofightfor-shares and turn on post notifications - you can also ask to be added to my tag list (link in bio or at the top of my taglist reblog)

Thank you to everyone that’s showed interest in this so far.

Translations at the end!

Masterlist

The more you put it off, the clearer it became that you were going to have to swallow your anxiety and just do it.

And it shouldn’t have been difficult - not really.

He was a nice guy; the conversations that you’d had at work were always positive ones, even if they were short. You’d never seen him get upset, even when someone made an unreasonable demand of him. He’d even gone out of his way to help around the office, taking on tasks before anyone could ask him to do so, or spending extra time to make sure the older people working there knew how to use everything properly to do their jobs.

He is a nice guy, and if you didn’t ask, you knew that someone else would.

And it wasn’t just the people you worked with that you had to worry about getting ahead of - it was everyone single in your age group, too.

So on the Monday before Thanksgiving, you found yourself texting your best friend and asking her to wish you luck before taking off down the hallway and toward his office, fingers nervously trailing along the wall in your wake.

Everyone seemed to be busy as you passed, and you were thankful that no one stopped you or poked their heads out of their office doors and attempted to speak to you. One delay and I’m going to lose my nerve. I know it. By the time you reached his partially closed door, your nerves were much calmer, one hand rising so that you could rap your knuckles against the frame with no hesitation.

Or, only a little hesitation, if you were being honest.

“C’mon in.” He spoke before you’d finished knocking, and you did exactly that, pushing the door open and then sticking your head inside of the room, a smile unavoidable at the sight of him.

“Hey, Din.” Leaving the door open behind you, you stepped through the small space and dropped into the chair across from him at the desk, crossing your legs at the knee. “How’s it going?”

“Busy today, actually.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair and then gesturing to his computer. “I’ve closed a few work orders, and had to go and help Sandra log back into her computer. She forgot her password again, and couldn’t do anything.” Bet she didn’t really forget it.

As you listened to him speak, you let yourself stare at the man, trying to decide what the best course of action was. Just ask. That’s what you’re here to do. “Didn’t you help her last week, too?” Wrinkling your nose, you rolled your eyes. “I know it’s not a good idea because of safety and all that, but you’d think these people would use simpler passwords, right? Things they can remember?”

“If they did that, I’d be out of a job.” Leaning back in his chair, Din smiled at you, a dimple appearing on one cheek, visible through his sparse beard. “It’s fine. It’s what I’m here for, and it makes the day go by faster.”

“If you say so.” Both of you went silent, and after about ten seconds, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “Look, I didn’t come here for computer help, Din. I actually… I have a favor to ask you.”

“Yeah?” Din sat up straight, leaning closer and then pushing the sleeves of his shirt up toward his elbows before resting his forearms on the desk, the keyboard between them. “What’s up?” His casual response put you even more at ease, and as you opened your mouth to clue him in, you realized that you weren’t anxious anymore - whatever was going to happen was going to happen. He’d either agree or he’d say no, but you’d never know the outcome unless you took the leap.

“So, you weren’t here last Christmas, but I’m sure you’ve seen the fliers for the events that happen over the next month.” Din nodded, his gaze still focused on you. “Christmas is a pretty big deal here, and -”

“With a town name like Mistletoe, I’m not surprised.” He raised a brow. “But go on. I’m sorry I interrupted.”

“Well, if you’ve seen the fliers, then you know that the events are all part of a larger contest, right?” He nodded again, the warmth in his eyes there but subdued, the man waiting to see exactly what you had to say. “I sign up every year, always have, and I did this year, too.” He nodded again, his smile still present but somehow smaller, the man staying quiet. “It’s… long story short, I signed up with James as soon as the site went live, and …”

“And now you’re not together anymore.” Din leaned even closer, saying your name. “I’m sorry about that.” You were surprised by the sincerity in his voice; you hadn’t even known that the man was aware that you’d broken up with your long term boyfriend. But apparently, Din knew more than he let on. Just because he’s quiet doesn’t mean that he doesn’t see. “But that doesn’t … I can’t do anything about that, and if you wanted to remove your name from the list, I’m sure all you’d have to do is tell whoever’s in charge. I’m good with computers, that doesn’t mean I can hack into -”

“No, Din!” The laugh that spiled from your lips was one of the most genuine that you’d produced since your breakup a few weeks earlier, your accompanying eye roll only slightly exaggerated. “I’m not sorry about it. It was a long time coming. We wanted different things. He was ready to leave here and uproot his life and I just… wasn’t.” Not for him, anyway. “It’s better like this, but.” You held up a finger. “I don’t want to take myself off of the list, and I don’t want you to take me off, either. I … I was actually wondering…”

The nerves were creeping back in, especially with the way that Din was still watching you, the expression on his face much more interested than it had been only minutes earlier. Just ask. All he can say is no.

“I wanted to ask you if you wanted to pair up, Din. With me.” Wetting your lips, you paused and gave him a few seconds to let the words sink in. “It’s actually a lot of fun every year, and if you’re involved with it, it’s a great way to really experience a Mistletoe Christmas.”

“Aren’t there like five events? Doesn’t that take up a lot of time?” Cocking his head to the side, the man blinked slowly, a slight frown deepening the lines on his forehead. “We haven’t really spent much time together, so I’m not sure that I’d be a good partner. I don’t know you or this town well, so …”

“It’s one event a week leading up to the 23rd.” You reached into your pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, sliding it across the desk at him. “Starts with trivia, and then there’s a baking thing and a snowman competition.” He reached for the paper, his fingertips briefly making contact with yours as he picked it up, unfolding it. “But the biggest thing is the scavenger hunt that’s the morning of the 23rd. That’s my favorite part, even though it’s the most difficult.”

You watched as his eyes scanned the sheet, his mouth lifting into a small smile at your words. “One a week?”

“One a week. A couple hours at a time.” Leaning back, you reached up to scratch at your chin, wetting your lips. “There’s other stuff to do on the days that there aren’t events, but it’s not … they aren’t mandatory. And no, we haven’t really spent much time together, but I think it could be fun, and we could get to know each other a little better.” You paused, thinking. “I never really see you out anywhere, Din. And you’ve met a couple of us for drinks after work once or twice, but …” You shrugged. “I know you don’t have family here, so I thought it would be a good way to…”

But as you spoke, you realized that you’d never even considered the possibility that Din would leave for the holidays - using his vacation time to travel back to wherever it was that he was from originally. Shit. I didn’t … that could be a problem. “You alright?” He set the paper down, his hand lifting to run his fingers through his hair again. “You got quiet.”

“It just occurred to me that I have no idea if you’re planning on being here for Christmas, and if you aren’t, then my plan isn’t going to work.”

“I’m staying here.” His tone hardened slightly for the first time, but it passed quickly, the man shaking his head back and forth. “I’ll be in Mistletoe for Christmas. Is there anyone else you can ask, though? I wouldn’t want to ruin your chances of winning.”

“There are a couple people I could ask. But if you say no, I’m not going to.” The look of confusion on his face made you laugh, and so you uncrossed your legs and then leaned all the way forward, pressing your palms on the top of his desk. “I’m pretty competitive, Din. And none of my friends really are. I take this seriously, and I think you would, too. I thought we’d make a good team.”

“Yes.” He was grinning again, excitement back in his eyes. “I will.” You will? You’ll take it seriously, or you’ll be my partner? “When is …” He looked down, consulting the list. “When is trivia?”

“Saturday.” You grinned back, rising to your feet. “And then the baking thing is the following weekend.” He took a deep breath, exhaling as he brought his gaze up to meet yours again. “Let me give you my number and that way we can coordinate for the -”

“I have a better idea.” He stood, too, pulling his phone out of his pocket and thumbing it unlocked. “Give me your number, and I’ll give you my address. You can stop over after work sometime in the next couple days and we can strategize.” What? The look on your face must have alarmed him because Din’s lips parted, the man’s fingers tightening around his phone. “Or we can just talk at lunch or on break, that’s just as easy.

“I’m surprised that you’re inviting me to your house.” Pointing at his phone, you took a breath. “I figured you’d want to meet at a bar or restaurant or something.”

“I leave my dog alone all day while I’m here, so I like spending time at home at night when I can.” He grinned, the expression somewhat embarrassed. “I know it’s stupid, but I feel bad that he’s by himself for so long.” He handed you his phone and you typed in the number before replying, sending yourself a message that simply said “Din” in the text field, and then gave it back to him.

“No, I get it. And yeah, that’s fine. I’m free tonight and then tomorrow, so let me know what works best for you, alright?” Din nodded again, setting the phone down on his desk. “I really appreciate this, Din.”

“Don’t mention it.” He opened his mouth to continue, but was interrupted by a loud beep from his computer, the man’s eyes immediately going to the screen. “I should look into that. That’s the noise it makes when there’s an emergency.”

Telling him goodbye, you spun and headed out of his office, pulling the door partway shut behind you. That could have gone worse. The walk back to your desk felt shorter than the one to his office had, and by the time you’d settled back down, picking up your phone to save his contact information, you were smiling outright. Much worse.

The rest of the day was uneventful, and you worked methodically to clear out your inbox and get things done leading up to the long holiday weekend, the conversation with Din fading to the back of your mind as time passed.

But when your phone vibrated later that afternoon and you picked it up, everything came back - including your wide smile - at the words on the screen.

Here’s my address. How’s 6:30 tonight sound? I can order pizza.

You only hesitated for a few seconds before typing back a reply, trying not to let yourself get overexcited.

That works for me. I’ll see you then.

—

“Stace, there’s nothing else to it. We’re going to be teammates for a couple weeks.” You were pacing in your living room, phone held to your ear. “Yes, he agreed right away, but it’s probably just because he felt bad for me. He knew that James and I broke up, so it was probably just pity.”

“Nah. He doesn’t seem the type to do pity.” The woman’s laugh was loud in your ear, but her tone was serious. “And even if it’s just because he wants to experience a Mistletoe Christmas, that’s still a good thing, right? It’s going to be fun.”

“I hope so.” You sighed, checking the time. “I’m going over to his place tonight so that we can talk about the events, and -”

“You’re going over there?” She screeched the words, her surprise evident. “Oh, that’s really good. Just the two of you means that …” She kept talking and you sat down on the back of the couch, bringing your free hand up to pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Stacy. Yes, I’m going over there. He said he would have asked me to meet him somewhere else, but he doesn’t like leaving his dog alone all day and night. So it won’t be just us, the dog’s going to be there too.” She called you an idiot but you ignored it, continuing. “And even though it was the best thing for both of us, I did just break up with a long term boyfriend a couple weeks ago. I’m not looking for anything right now.

“Even with someone that looks like Din?” She’d seen him in person when she’d met you for lunch a few times, the man lifting his hand in a quick wave as the two of you passed him on your way out the door. Even with someone like Din. “You have to admit, he’s… nice to look at.”

“He is. But that doesn’t matter. We’re going to do some Christmas themed activities together, and that’s it. Maybe we’ll become friends, but I’m not counting on it.”

“We’ll see.” You stood again and moved into your kitchen, head tilted to the side to hold your phone in place as you pulled your jacket on. “Just give it a chance. You never know - you might be perfect for each other.”

“Or,” you countered while grabbing your purse and keys. “Or we might be really incompatible, this is going to be a mess, and five weeks of us spending time together will end really badly.” She laughed again, telling you were wrong. “Maybe. But I’ve already asked him, so now all I can do is see what happens.”

You hung up the phone after telling her goodbye and that you’d let her know how things went, scrubbing one hand over your lower face. Is she right? Am I right? Only a few minutes later, Din’s address was typed into your phone and you were on your way to a house not even ten minutes from yours, music playing softly on your car radio as you drove.

There were a few houses that already had their Christmas lights on and decorations up, but you knew that the number of them would only increase the following week, starting with the tree lighting ceremony on the day after Thanksgiving. You wondered if Din would go to that and decided to ask him while you were at his house that night. Might as well.

You felt no apprehension as you got closer to his place, and even when you parked in the driveway and turned the car off, that was still true.

But as you headed up the steps to the porch - he’d turned the light on for you - you felt a small twinge of nerves. And when you pressed the button for the doorbell and were answered with a series of barks from the opposite side, you sucked in a breath, heart rate increasing. I could leave. I could just go.

You saw the dog before you saw Din, its face poking around the edge of the curtains in the front window, and were so focused on it that you didn’t notice the door opening inward, Din standing in a rectangle of light that spilled out from the hallway and onto the porch. “Hey, sorry about him. He likes to bark, but he’s all talk, I promise.” The man paused and your attention shifted from the animal to the man, who took a step back and gestured with one hand. “Come in.”

You followed him inside and shut the door behind you, and there was another quiet yip as the dog ran from the other room and into the hallway, Din bending slightly at the waist to grab for his collar. “Oh, it’s fine, he’s…” Unzipping your coat, you crouched down and then looked up, nodding. “You can let him go.”

Din did, speaking two words - Cuyir jate - and taking a cautious step closer to you as the dog closed the final distance, head held high and his nose working overtime as he sniffed at you. Look at how cute this damn dog is. “His name’s Grogu. Had him since I got here. I actually… found him.” You reached out, letting Grogu sniff your hand, and when he’d made the decision that you weren’t going to harm him and started to lick at your wrist, you let out a breath that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “Or maybe he found me. They tell me he’s a mix of a couple things, but that he’s mostly Shiba Inu and some sort of Shepherd.”

“He’s definitely cute.” Biting your lip as you glanced up, you nodded. “I can see why you wouldn’t want to leave him longer than you need to.” Scratching the dog behind the ears for a few seconds with one hand, you began to stroke over his fur with the other, Grogu plopping down into a seated position and whining quietly. “I love his ears.”

“Everyone does.” Din cleared his throat. “Figured we could order food and then you could tell me more about this contest while we wait and eat. I like it kinda cold in here, so I built a fire in the living room, but …” Standing, you gave the dog one more pat on the head and then moved closer to the man, wiping your hand on your jeans. “If you wanted to stick to the kitchen, we can do that too.”

“Sitting by a fire sounds great, Din.” He led you into the other room and you followed, glancing around to get a look at the inside of his house. It was clean and organized, though it was smaller than yours, and as you walked, you noticed that there were very few personal touches scattered throughout. Maybe he’s a minimalist.

Grogu pushed past you as you stepped down into the recessed living room, the dog immediately jumping up onto an armchair next to the fireplace and curling up. He settled his nose into his bushy tail, bright eyes watching intently as you lowered yourself onto the couch across from him. You kept your eyes on Din as you did so, the man stepping toward the fireplace and bending over to add another log before pulling the grate shut.

It was impossible to ignore the way the material of his shirt pulled over his shoulders - the waffle-knit texture of the dark Henley he wore tight over his back and arms - and so you didn’t. You let yourself look, leaning back against the soft cushions, and barely managed to avert your eyes when he turned to face you, pointing at the open laptop on the table. “I have the menu open for the pizza place I like. Pick what you want and add it to the order.”

As he settled down on the couch next to you - leaving plenty of space between your bodies, you leaned closer to the computer, fingers moving over the trackpad. I know this place. It’s one of my favorites.

It didn’t take you long to add your meal to the order, and when you gestured for him to finish, you reached for your purse, pulling your phone out. “What do I owe you? I can send it through Venmo, or if you want cash, I can give it to you at work tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He clicked the “place order” button and then turned to look at you, lower lip pushed out in a small frown. “I invited you over here, so I’ll pay.” Thanking him quickly, Din ducked his head, turning his attention back to the screen. “Says it’ll be about 30 minutes. That’s plenty of time for you to fill me in, right?”

It was, but rather than just telling him, you decided to show the man what he’d invited you over to talk about. “There’s actually a website, if you want to look through it. It’s got pictures and videos from previous years, and it’s how they keep track of teams and points, too.” He pushed the device closer to you again, and you typed in the address, opening up the page. “I’ll actually need you to add in your information, too, just in case we win anything. They need to have a record of who the prizes go to, so -”

“Wait, there’s prizes?” He was tapping lightly on the trackpad, scrolling through the main page. “This isn’t just friendly competition?”

“Well, yes and no.” Bending one arm, you rested your elbow on your knee and settled your chin in your hand as you eyed the website. “It’s pretty friendly all the way through. People are competitive, but they’re not ruthless, y’know? It helps to get us all in the Christmas spirit, but they like to reward the people that win, too.”

“What kind of prizes?” He clicked a video and kept his eyes on it as it played, the volume loud enough that you could hear it, but not too loud to keep you from talking. “Cookies and Christmas sweaters? Gift certificates? What are the stakes here?”

“God, no. We all get enough cookies and candy canes and all that bullshit from everywhere else. The Christmas sweaters … I can’t tell you no, because that might be part of it, but it’s more than that.” Pointing with one finger, you cleared your throat. “It sort of depends on who wins, too. There are some generic participation prizes, but for the teams that come in first, second and third, they personalize it a little.”

“Yeah?” A second video was playing, Din watching as people competed in a 3-legged race. “Have you ever won?”

“I’ve won individual events before. But I’ve only won a bigger prize once. It was the first year James and I were together, and we came in third overall. We got an overnight stay at a bed and breakfast about an hour away as our prize.” You swallowed hard at the memory, looking down at your lap. “I think that was still during the honeymoon phase of our relationship, you know? He was trying to impress me. After that year it always seemed like he was just going through the motions.”

Din was quiet for long moments and when you finally looked up, you sucked in a breath at the sight of a photo of you and James on the screen, both of you in winter hats and scarves. I forgot that was on there.

He quickly clicked to a different page and while it loaded, Din shifted on the couch next to you, obviously a little uncomfortable. “So it’s not just a couples thing? I know you said there were other people you could ask, but I figured it was just so you didn’t have to back out.”

“It’s not. I entered with my best friend a couple times. My college roommate was my partner once when she came back here for the winter break. As long as it’s a team of two and both people fall into the same age bracket, it doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, it looks like there’s a separate contest for kids?”

“There is.” You leaned over, clicking on a different tab. “But that one’s just mostly fun. Races and making decorations, volunteering for the older kids. You have to be over 18 to sign up for the one we’re in, but there’s still plenty of stuff to do even if it doesn’t earn you points toward the competition. “You’ll see. It sounds a lot more complicated than it really is. All you have to do is show up for the main events and play, and you’ll be fine.”

“I can’t promise you that we’ll win.” He rubbed a large palm over one knee, sighing as he said your name. “Where I’m from, we didn’t have a lot of these traditions. My holidays were a lot of … structure. I’ve really only gotten to experience American Christmas a few times, and I’m still getting the hang of it.” The hang of it? It’s just … celebrations.

“That’s alright, Din.” Clasping your hands together in your lap, you shrugged your shoulders. “As long as you’re having fun, that’s what matters.”

“But you just said that you and James didn’t win because he wasn’t trying to.” He rubbed at his knee again, shaking his head. “I don’t want you to think …”

“There’s a difference between not trying and giving it a legitimate effort and losing, Din. As long as you aren’t just showing up and sitting there on your phone instead of decorating cookies, or complaining about having to trudge through the snow and getting your pants wet while we’re building snowmen, it’s fine.”

“I don’t mind the cold.” He let out a long sigh, the concern fading from his expression. “And Grogu and I really like the snow. He didn’t get to see much of it last winter, because we got here toward the end, but we took a trip over the summer, and he really liked it then.”

“Ah, so that’s where you went when you were gone for a week. Europe. There’s snow over there in some places in the summer, right?” You grinned at him, tilting your head. “You left so fast that some of us wondered if you were even coming back, and the little old ladies in the cafeteria were distraught at the thought they wouldn’t ever see you again.”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat, eyes darting over to Grogu and then back to you. “Europe. It was a last minute thing, so I only had time to clear it with the boss.” His reaction was a little strange, but you figured that it was just the result of the man accidentally revealing too much to you after such a short time, and so you ignored it. He’ll tell me what he wants to tell me when he wants to tell me. “And I’m sure the cafeteria ladies were only distraught because I wasn’t around to help ‘em log into their email and update their order forms.” Doubtful. You snorted at that and were rewarded with another of Din’s bright smiles, the discomfort from a few minutes earlier all but gone. “The food should be here soon. Let me put Grogu outside so that he’s not trying to climb into your lap while you eat, alright?”

Nodding at the suggestion, you settled back as Din stood and whistled, calling out the dog’s name. Grogu’s head popped up in interest, and when the man headed for the back door, fingers closing sound the handle, he bolted toward his owner, tongue hanging out. “He’s adorable, Din.” You spoke as the door shut behind the dog, Din flipping the light switch on and keeping his eyes on the glass for a few seconds. “You found him?”

“Yeah. It was about two weeks after I got here, I was driving down the highway and stopped at a rest area.” He motioned for you to follow him up and into the kitchen, opening cupboards and then pulling out plates and napkins. “He was in a box next to one of the dumpsters, and I heard him whining when I walked by.” Din pulled his phone out again and scrolled for a few seconds, tapping once on the screen before he turned it toward you. “There was no way I was getting back in my car without him.”

You gasped at the picture he was showing you; Grogu but tiny, the longer fur near his ears matted and wet, his body tucked into a tight circle on a piece of filthy cardboard. “Of course you couldn’t.” Covering your mouth, you blinked back tears at the sight. “He was so little.”

“And all alone. I think there were others in the box with him at one point, but by the time I got there, he was by himself. Wrapped him in a blanket and put him in the car with me.” Din swiped to the left and the next picture you saw was of the puppy on the front passenger seat, wrapped in a tan, fur-lined blanket with only his head poking out. “Took him to a vet as soon as they opened the next morning, and they scanned him for a chip. Nothing came up. I said I’d keep him until someone claimed him or I could find him a home, and now…” Din trailed off, shrugging. “He’s not going anywhere.”

“They always know when they’re rescued.” Movement out of the corner of your eye caused you to turn your head toward the window, the sight of Grogu running across the snow-covered grass making you smile. “I bet he’s a terror sometimes, though.”

“Oh, definitely.” Din’s laugh was loud and genuine, and when he pushed away from the counter, tucking his phone back into his pocket, you followed, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “He’s a little shit but I love him anyway.” Before he could sit down across from you, the sound of the doorbell filled the house, Grogu’s response barks audible through the glass. “One second.”

He grinned as he walked away and you followed his motion with your eyes, gaze locked on the way his arms swayed as he walked, fingers curled into loose fists by his sides. Din was nice to look at - you’d thought so from the minute he’d been hired. The man’s shy nature during his introduction to the company had made him something of a mystery, many of the employees - especially the women - going out of their way to attempt to get to know him. But I don’t know if any of them actually have.

He answered the door, greeting the delivery driver, and as he made conversation during the handoff, you kept watching him, chewing on the inside of your cheek. I shouldn’t stare, especially since we’re going to be hanging out so much. But you couldn’t help it, keeping your eyes on him even when he’d turned to face you again, boxes in his hands and using one foot to push the door shut behind him. “Need help?”

He assured you that he didn’t, and a few minutes later, the two of you were happily eating dinner, both boxes open on the table between you. “So tell me more about this competition. I know we looked at the site earlier, but …” He swallowed a bite of pizza, setting the slice down and wiping his fingers on a napkin. “How do they score the events? Is it easy to win?”

“Everything’s weighted differently.” Swallowing a mouthful of your own, you lifted your cup to your lips, taking a long drink of Coke. “For example, the teams that win trivia will win with that number of points, but they only carry over a specific amount to the second event.” He nodded, drumming his fingers on the tabletop. “There are judges for the snowman contest, and winners are ranked, and it’s the same thing; a certain number of points.”

“Do they count the number of cookies you decorate?” He took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. “Because I can tell you right now, I’m not going to be fast at that.”

“They do. But it’s not just the number with frosting, it’s the number that are complete. We don’t have to bake them, just decorate them. Every year, someone drops a full plate, or comes up with some lame method that they think is going to get them an advantage, but it never works.”

“What about eating them?” He raised a brow, swiping at his lower lip with one thumb and then sucking it clean, a breath catching in your throat at the sight. That’s definitely… something to see. “What happens if I eat the ones we frost?”

“I’ll be mad.” You wadded up your napkin and tossed it at him. “A couple is one thing, but there’s plenty of time to eat cookies after, Din. I promise, there’s hundreds of them that get made that night. You’ll have too many to choose from.”

“Fine.” He groaned and rolled his eyes. “Scavenger hunt? That seems like it’ll be the most competitive.”

“It always is. And it’s the best place to make up points, too.” Finishing your pizza, you pushed your plate away. “There’s the typical clues, and we have to figure them out and then go to each place and take pictures to prove that we solved everything. But there’s also a list of extra point opportunities.”

“Extra points?” He finished too, sitting straight up and then leaning back, his arms behind his head as he stretched. “What does that mean?” It took you a second to answer - the flex of his upper arms through the material of his shirt distracting you big time.

“There… there’s a time limit. If you get all five or six of the main clues, you earn a certain number of points, but if you take pictures with the other stuff on the list, you earn extra points.” His eyes widened. “The trick is that some of the stuff on the list is worth more extra points, and it’s all completely random. The people that are in charge are the only one that know until the end of the competition. They upload the list with the point values after everyone’s submitted.”

“So you really have to strategize.” He stood, beginning to clear the table. “Decide if you want to try for the extra points and put the actual clues aside, or -”

“Or play the game and pick a few of the extras and hope for the best.” As you moved through the kitchen with him, you were struck with how fluid it seemed - Din putting the dishes into the sink and rinsing them while you threw away the trash and combined the pizza into one box before sticking it in the fridge.

“Exactly.” Pausing with one hand on the countertop, you eyed him. “That’s why it’s last. Gives people a chance to decide how they’re going to play it.”

“Sounds like a lot of fun.” He had one hand on his hip, fingers spread out, the tips of two of them dipping into the front pocket of his jeans. “I’m glad you asked me to be your partner.”

“Are you?” He nodded and you felt heat rising in your cheeks, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. You then turned away quickly so that he couldn’t see the change in your expression. Shit. “I’m going to let Grogu in. He’s gotta be cold.” Din told you that that was fine but didn’t say anything else, and you took the opportunity to walk back downstairs, heading straight for the door. How do I respond to that?

You pulled the door open and Grogu dashed in, crowding up against your legs as you shut and locked the glass and then stepped back, laughing. Dropping to your knees again, you reached for him, the dog excitedly jumping closer and nudging at your chest and arms with his nose - which was much colder than it had been earlier.

Leaning forward, you used both hands to pet him, running your nails along his back and sides, his curly tail wagging back and forth at your touch. “He likes you.”

Din followed you downstairs, his arms crossed over his chest. Letting his words sink in, you smiled at the dog, scratching the space just behind his ears. “Yeah? Is he not usually this friendly?” Din sat down on the couch again and you heard a low whistle followed by another single word - K’olar. Grogu immediately went still at the sound and then headed for the man, bypassing you without another look. He jumped onto the couch and then settled down with his snout on Din’s thigh, the man’s hand immediately moving to his shoulders. Ok, that’s impressive. “Din?”

“It usually takes him a little while to warm up, but I guess not with you.” He looked down at the dog and then back at you. “I don’t have people over much, so this is new for him.”

It seemed like an invitation and so you took it, sitting down on the couch again - Grogu between the two of you that time. “So you keep to yourself at work and after. You don’t have many people over. I’ve never heard any of the women in the office talking about going out with you for dinner or to a movie or for a drink, even though they all talk about asking. So why’d you agree to do this with me, Din?”

You weren’t trying to pry, but you still wanted to know, hoping that at the very least the man would tell you something that would help explain his decision. I shouldn’t question it, because I’m happy it’s happening. “I wanted to.” He said your name and turned his head, waiting until you were looking at him to say anything else. “You’re friendly with everyone. You make my job easy because you never really need anything from me. And…” He scratched Grogu between the ears again, taking a deep breath. “And you’ve seemed sad for the last couple weeks, so I wanted to see if I could cheer you up.”

“Din, I -” It wasn’t an admission of anything - not really - but it made you happy all the same, and you didn’t quite know how to respond. “Thank you.” You ran your fingers through Grogu’s fur, careful not to get in the path of Din’s hand. “Can I ask you something else?”

“Sure.” He was playing with the dog’s ears, the brown and black fur sticking out from between his fingers before he flattened them against the sides of his head. “Go on.”

“Was I the only person that asked you to partner up for the competition?”

“No.” He laughed and your head snapped in his direction. I’m not? “A couple of the girls from the sales team asked.” He met your eyes. “And so did Omera, the one from accounting?”

“And you said no?” Din nodded, his expression solemn. “Then why -”

“Because, I like I said…” He reached over, laying his hand on your arm and squeezing. “I want to cheer you up.” He cleared his throat. “And to be honest… you’re really good at your job, and you look like you know your way around these events, so clearly we have the best chance to win together.”

That made you laugh, too, your attention shifting to the warmth of his palm on your arm, the heat present even though the sleeve of your shirt. “I definitely do.” Lowering your head, you focused on his hand, the man squeezing once more before he pulled it back and resumed stroking over Grogu’s head. “Well thank you, Din. I appreciate it, and I hope I don’t disappoint you.”

“You won’t.” The room went quiet then, and even though there was plenty that you wanted to say, you chose not to, instead flexing your fingers and then leaning back in and reaching for the laptop.

“I’m going to log on now so that you can put in your information. If you enter in your email, they’ll send you instructions and updates about the events.” Once logged in, you navigated to the correct page and sat back. “All yours, Din.”

He typed quickly, entering in his name and address, along with his phone number and email. “Says I need a picture? I don’t have one on here, but -”

“It doesn’t have to be a professional picture. We can take one with your phone, or upload one using the laptop’s camera. It really doesn’t matter. They just want to be sure that no one’s trying to sub in someone for an event.”

He didn’t speak, but you watched as Din pressed a few keys and opened the laptop’s camera, ducking down so that his face was visible on the screen. He ran his fingers through his hair again but instead of taming the locks, he ruffled them even more, the man muttering something under his breath that made Grogu raise his head. Did he just call him lamb?

He snapped a picture moments later, and then with a few more taps, he spun the laptop to face you. “How’s that?” There was a picture of him and Grogu next to yours, and if you hadn’t been able to catch yourself, you would have said something embarrassing. Like telling him that that’s the best laptop selfie I’ve ever seen. “Figured even if people didn’t know who I was, they might recognize him.”

“It’s a good picture.” With a final pat, you pulled your hand away from Grogu and linked your fingers together. “Hopefully they don’t think that he’s my partner.”

“You wouldn’t have to worry about decorating cookies then because he’d eat every single one of them.” Din’s hands went back to Grogu’s face, the man cradling it between his palms. “Isn’t that right, you little womp rat?”

You couldn’t help smiling at the sight, but when your eyes moved up and you saw the clock over Din’s shoulder, you winced. “It’s getting late, Din. And we’ve gotta work tomorrow, so I should probably go. I don’t want to keep you up.” You didn’t want to leave but figured it was polite to do so, and when you stood, Din did, too. “You don’t have to -”

“I’ll walk you out. I have to lock the door anyway.” He held one hand out and spoke to Grogu again, his head angled down. “Gev, Grogu.” The dog relaxed almost immediately, putting his head back down on his paws and looking up at you, brown eyes wide and somewhat sad. “Oh, don’t look at her like that.” Din rolled his eyes when he caught yours. “He acts like I’m the worst when I’m just telling him to stay put.”

“He just wants to be around you, Din.” And I can’t blame him, especially after finding out he was rescued. You led the way back to his front door, reaching for the coat that you’d draped over the banister, along with your bag. “Thanks for dinner.” As you zipped the jacket, you met his eyes again, giving him a small smile. “If you have any other questions, that site can probably answer a lot of them, but you can always ask me at work, too. It’s pretty straightforward.”

“I figured.” He was leaning against the railing, arms once again crossed over his broad chest, the bottom of one socked foot pressed to the wall’s surface just above the baseboard. “And you’re welcome. It… I’m glad you stopped over tonight.” You are? Fighting back a smile as you zipped your boot, you turned your attention toward the door, reaching for the handle. “I’ll finish filling out that information when you leave, and see you at work tomorrow.”

“I’ll be there.” Sighing as the cool air rushed in when you pulled the door open, you looked back at Din over one shoulder, nodding. “Have a good night.”

“You too.” He followed you out onto the porch as you made your way down the stairs, the man still standing there by the time you’d buckled yourself in and started the vehicle. As you backed out, you noticed that Grogu had joined him, the dog sitting next to Din, pressed close to one of his legs.

The radio still played softly as you drove, but you paid no attention to it, instead focused on the previous few hours - and what you’d learned about Din. Blowing out a breath as you sat at a stoplight, you stopped trying to hide your smile and let it free, grinning as you eased your foot off the brake.

It was going to be a long five weeks - but you couldn’t wait to see how they went.

—

Cuyir jate: be good

K'olar : come here

Laam: up

Gev: stop (stay)

- - -

Tag list coming separately!

#din djarin x reader #din x female reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian au #pedro pascal character #din djarin modern au #IT guy din #star wars fic #hallmark christmas 2022 #competing for christmas #christmas story 2022 #grogu #din and grogu #but in a new way #choose your holiday 2022 adventure #christmas fluff #this one's going to have ALL the tropes

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ravenclaw-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Don't Mess With Moony

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Sirius Black

Description:

Remus has been in love with Sirius for ages, but lately, Sirius has been getting on his nerves.

Sirius tries to flirt but Remus is painfully oblivious.

Word Count: 10,727

Original Publish Date: 2021-04-06

A/N: Heyo! Here's fic no. 2 from my AO3-to-tumblr transfer. Hope you like! Feel free to check out my other stuff either on here as I start to upload or on my AO3 where they already live :)

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| Read on AO3 |

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Now, Remus Lupin would deny it to anyone who asked, but he had what was probably the biggest crush that was humanly possible on Sirius Black. He was able to deny it because, unlike James Potter, he did not go around moping about his unrequited love. Instead, he kept it bottled up inside and only allowed himself to indulge when the rest of the Marauders were sound asleep and he could have a quick wank to the thought of whatever ridiculously sexy thing Sirius had done that day. It was fine, he told himself. He had a system that worked.

While yes, Remus had irrevocably fallen for Sirius, that did not mean that the boy in question couldn’t get under his skin. And under his skin did he get.

Sirius, James, Peter, and Remus were all sitting in the Common Room. It was late and all Remus wanted to do was crawl into his bed and pass out. He was trying to decide if he had enough energy to wank to the fresh images of Sirius in his new black nail polish (he should really send a thank you card to Andromeda). James was on his back in front of the fire, Peter had claimed the armchair and Remus and Sirius had the sofa. Sirius decided that he wanted to take up as much room as possible, which Remus did not appreciate. He also did not like to be this close to Sirius as the clock ticked closer to his designated Wanking Hour.

Remus was tired, a little horny, his hip was acting up because of his awkward position on the couch, and on top of that a little agitated by the approaching moon. Logically, he knew that he could just tell his friends this (minus the horny part, obviously), but Remus hated bringing attention to anything that came along with his lycanthropy, despite the validity. Remus was hoping that maybe Peter would say something first, or maybe Lily would come down and tell them to go to sleep. James would, and does, do anything that woman says. But unfortunately, she did not.

“What about you, Moony?” James asked.

Remus turned back into the conversation. “Sorry, didn’t catch that.”

“Come on Moons, any Valentine’s Day plans?” Sirius teased, toeing at Remus’ hip. His bad hip. Remus held in a hiss of pain.

“Nope,” He said, popping the ‘p’.

“Oh, come on Moony, surely you’ve got your eyes on someone!” James said, turning his head to look at him.

“I’ll probably just spend it in the Library, if I’m honest,” Remus shrugged, avoiding the question, because yeah, he did have his eyes on someone. A certain grey-eyed, black-haired, illegal-animagus someone.

James shook his head in disbelief. “Oh, come on, you can’t seriously mean that. This is the first year we’ve all got dates! It’s only fair that we find you one!”

“All?” Remus really wished he had been paying attention earlier. He knew Peter was seeing someone, a Hufflepuff whose name he didn’t bother to remember, James and Lily were “finally official”, but Sirius? Since when was he seeing someone?

As if reading his mind Sirius smirked. “Yes, yes, I know. First Valentine’s Day in my glorious 18 years on Earth that I actually have plans.”

“Yeah, but you still won’t tell us her name,” Peter piped up.

Sirius flipped his hair dramatically. “Unlike some of us, I don’t kiss and tell.” Remus tried to hide his disappointment. He didn’t need the visual of Sirius and Mystery Girl kissing in his head right now.

“Don’t think too highly of yourself, Black, Remus doesn’t kiss and tell either,” James teased.

“Wait, Remus, you’ve kissed someone?” Peter asked, sitting up straighter. All eyes were suddenly on Remus. Thanks for bringing me into this, Prongs.

Remus shrugged. He’d only ever kissed one person. It was last year, Charlie, a Ravenclaw prefect who had stayed late after one of Remus’ Library Study Sessions. Remus didn’t even know Charlie was gay. But as it turns out he was very gay as they had done a lot more than kiss, specifically a few times in the prefects’ bathroom. Remus felt bad because truthfully, he was really only using Charlie as a sexual outlet for his pent-up Sirius Feelings. The night he called it off was also the night that James caught him sneaking back into their dorm. Remus did not confirm or deny James’ suspicions and since it was never brought up again Remus had assumed that James was still half asleep and had simply forgotten. It appeared that that was not the case.

“Details, Moony! Details!” Sirius kept toeing at Remus’ bad hip, a little harder this time.

“There aren’t any, let’s move on,” Remus tried to ignore the pain he was in and also direct the conversation away from himself.

“It was last year, I caught him sneaking back into the dorm,” James smiled, proud of himself. Remus flipped him the bird but all James did was laugh.

“And you didn’t TELL ME?” Sirius was taken aback. He sat up straighter and, in the process, pushed his feet into Remus. Remus tried to calm his breathing but fuck, that hurt.

“Didn’t know you were so interested in Moony’s love life, Pads,” James raised an eyebrow. Remus could have sworn he saw the beginnings of a blush on Sirius’ cheeks. “Besides, not mine to tell.”

“You can at least tell us who it was,” Peter reasoned. No, Remus thought. That’s the last thing that I want to tell you. Well, actually the last thing would be the details on how hard I fucked -

“I’ll bet it was someone from your ‘study sessions’. Those girls are always throwing themselves over you,” James laughed and pitched his voice up, “Oh, Remus, you’re so smart! Remus, you’re such a great teacher! Remus, I want you to bend me over this desk and -”

“They do not say that!” Remus interrupted, not wanting James to finish that sentence.

“They might as well!” Peter exclaimed. “That’s why I stopped coming, mate, it was painful to watch.”

Remus felt himself redden. No, there was no way that was true.

“Awe, Moony’s embarrassed,” Sirius teased, poking at his hip again, this time with more purpose.

“Would you stop that?” Remus snapped, turning to look at Sirius. All laughter in the room stopped. “You’ve been poking at my hip all night and it really fucking hurts, ok?”

Sirius shrunk into the couch. “Sorry, I- I didn’t realize it was your bad-”

“I’m going to bed.” Remus decided. He already killed the mood, and he was done talking about his not-plans for Valentine’s Day. It was a stupid holiday anyway, only useful for the February 15th sale on sweets at Honeydukes.

Remus stood up and had to grab the arm of the couch when he lost his balance after putting weight on his bad side. Sirius reached out as if to catch him, but Remus jerked away. He left the now silent Common Room and limped up the stairs to the dorm.

____________

It took Remus an unfortunate amount of time to cool down after that night. Luckily his friends were willing to brush it off, associating it with the upcoming moon. Said moon came and went and they were all back to normal. Remus had almost forgotten about Valentine’s Day. Almost.

As usual, the Great Hall was fully decked out. Normally, Remus didn’t really mind. Valentine’s Day was never his favourite day of the year, but he always secretly looked forward to seeing Lily turn down James after whatever stunt he decided to pull. This year was different. For starters, James and Lily were dating now so he didn’t have the shut down to look forward to. Peter was always hit or miss. He was the first of the four of them to have a proper girlfriend. Sirius tried to argue that he should hold that title, but James said hookups don’t count. If you do count Sirius, then technically James was the last to have a proper relationship as Remus beat him to it with Charlie last year. But then again, if it was proper girlfriends they were competing for, Remus could guarantee that he would never even place. He hoped that Sirius wouldn’t make it to the podium either.

Remus trudged through the day, it was rather uneventful as far as Valentine’s Day goes. He saw more action in the hallways this past Christmas when someone enchanted mistletoe to hang above certain archways around the castle. Remus was certain it was James looking for any excuse to show off his new relationship with Lily, but he never admitted to it.

He would never outright say it, but Remus was avoiding Sirius. At first, it wasn’t intentional, Sirius refused to get out of bed with the rest of them so their paths didn’t cross until lunch, but Remus did start going out of his way to take different routes to class not wanting to put a face to Mystery Girl. In his mind, she was extremely ugly. Or maybe bore a striking resemblance to a certain teenage werewolf. Remus was not ready to face the truth that she was probably the most gorgeous woman with the most womanly body and melodic woman voice. Someone the complete opposite of a gangly, scarred … man. He wasn’t sure why he was getting so worked up over this. Sirius has been involved with girls before. Remus has no reason to think that Sirius was anything other than straight. But something about the fact that Sirius had made plans with her on Valentine’s Day made his heart sink. So, Remus took the long way to class. He skipped lunch, had early dinner. He threw himself down on the couch in the empty Common Room.

It was sad, really. Moping around like a girl. Maybe then he’d be interested, Remus thought. He lazily flicked his wand and set the kettle on its way to the fire. He was really more of a coffee person, but Lily always made him feel better with a cup of tea when he got into “one of his moods”. He guessed that his current state did fall into that category. He reluctantly got off the couch to look through the cabinet of mugs for his personal favourite. The collection of mugs in Gryffindor Tower was secretly one of Remus’ favourite parts of the Common Room. Students could bring their own mug if they desired and most of them ended up just leaving them in the cabinet even when they left the school. Going through them was like flipping through a guest book of Gryffindors past. Remus’ favourite had the most obnoxious colour pallet with random shapes and designs. However, it one of the biggest and had the best handle for his big hands.

He was in the middle of flicking through the second shelf when he heard footsteps coming down from the dorms. “Moony?”

Great. He had gone all day not interacting with Sirius and now they were alone in the Common Room. “Not at dinner?” Remus asked, turning his head to face Sirius. Mistake. Sirius was wearing the pair of ripped jeans that frequently appeared in Remus’ dreams and a loose fitting maroon button-up with the first few buttons undone. His hair was still a little damp, he must have just gotten out of the shower because Remus could smell the soap he always used, even from across the room. This shouldn’t be allowed, Remus thought. He is not allowed to look this good. Remus noticed the hint of a blush on Sirius’ cheeks. “Getting ready for tonight then?” Remus turned his head back to looking through the mugs and tried to inconspicuously adjust his trousers.

“Finishing touches, yeah,” Remus heard Sirius start walking closer. The kettle started to hiss just as Remus was giving up on finding his mug. Some idiot first year probably used it. He grabbed a random one with a massive handle off the shelf. Huh. Surprisingly, it also fit his hand. This might have to be his new backup. Remus grabbed a tea bag and went back towards the fire.

Sirius had spread himself across the couch. When Remus turned his eyes flicked to the mug in his hand and he broke out into a grin. Remus gave him a questioning look as he began to pour the hot water into the mug. “That’s mine.”

Remus almost dropped the kettle. He turned to face Sirius. “What?”

Sirius’ smile widened. “Yeah, I brought it this year.” Remus looked down at the mug in his hands. He hadn’t really been paying attention to what he had grabbed but now, paying more attention he let out a low chuckle. The mug was all black, decorated with a pattern of white stars. “Get it? James and I went to some muggle shops over the summer and I just had to buy it. Leave my mark, y’know? Sirius Black, the Gryffindor.” Sirius shrugged. Remus didn’t want to get soft right now. He wanted to be able to have a reason to be mad at Sirius to justify his avoidance. But instead, all he got was another reason to love him. “It also has one of those giant handles that I know you like so I was hoping that you would be able to stop using the absolute eyesore that you normally do.” Merlin, fuck, Sirius! You can’t just say things like that!

Remus, unable to formulate words decided to nod his head and make his way to the armchair. “So, uh, what are your plans for tonight?” He asked, not really wanting to know but figured he owed Sirius the decency to at least seem like he was interested.

Sirius shrugged. “What about you?” He asked, dodging the question.

Remus decided not to press. Surely, he wasn’t stood up by Mystery Girl? “Homework, I think.”

Sirius laughed. “You and your bloody homework.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Sirius started to backtrack. “No, no, nothing wrong with it, I just can’t help but think you should be putting yourself out there!” Merlin’s beard, he was not about to have this conversation with Sirius.

“I don’t know, I rather like my routine.” It wasn’t a full lie. He was content with the routine, but he wouldn’t mind if the person to ruin it was the one sitting across from him.

“Moony, you can’t seriously expect me to believe that!” Remus shrugged in response, sipping his tea. “What about that girl from last year James was talking about?”

“I didn’t confirm anything that James said that night.”

“Merlin, work with me here!” Sirius was getting annoyed.

“Maybe I don’t want a girlfriend, alright?” Remus snapped. Immediately, he regretted it. He hoped that Sirius took it as “I don’t want a girlfriend right now” and not “I don’t want a girlfriend because I’m a raging homosexual who’s absolutely in love with you”. The silence before Sirius’ response was telling Remus it might be the latter.

“Moony,” Sirius paused, as if he was choosing his next words very carefully. “Are you -”

“Look, why don’t you just go on your date ok? I’m fine alright, just drop it.” Remus realized that interrupting Sirius was probably a red flag, but he just wanted to be left alone right now.

Sirius relaxed his face. “I was thinking I might just spend the night with you, actually,” he shrugged. Remus was getting mad.

“Sirius, stop. Go on your date, don’t be an asshole, you can’t stand a girl up on Valentine’s Day!” Remus stood up, he wanted this conversation to end. If Sirius wasn’t going to leave then he was.

Sirius sat up, his hair was ruffled from drying a little while pressed against the couch. Remus tried not to think about how his hair might look similar after sex. “Where are you going?”

Remus sighed, putting his mug down on the end table. He was no longer in the mood for tea. “I’m going upstairs because I have work to do, you’re being an idiot, and I’m done getting your pity!” He started to make his way to the stairs.

Sirius hopped off the couch and followed him. “What do you mean, my pity?”

Remus huffed and turned around. “You know exactly what I mean! You’re going to bunk off getting laid to spend time with me? I’m not that fucking lonely for Merlin’s sake!” Remus started back up the stairs without waiting for a response. He reached for the door to their dorm but Sirius called ou after him.

“Wait, stop!”

Remus opened the door and started to make his way over to his bed only to see that he could not throw himself on it like he had hoped because someone piled various types of chocolates and sweets on it. He quickly turned to see Sirius standing in the doorway. “Did you do this?” He snapped.

Evidently, this was not the reaction Sirius was hoping for because his face fell. “Well, yeah. I mean I was hoping you wouldn’t be pissed at me when you saw but I know you like to buy sweets on the 15th so I thought since tomorrow’s a Hogsmeade trip it might be too busy, so I-” Sirius was getting red.

Remus, unfortunately, was still on edge and was not able to see the gesture for what it was and instead, it only added to his anger. “Merlin’s beard, I’m not your fucking charity case, Black!”

Sirius jolted. He quickly regained his senses and seemed to be inching closer to how Remus was feeling. “I never said you were!”

“Well, you might as well have!”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Fucking hell, you just can’t take it when someone does something nice for you, is that it? Stop feeling so bloody sorry for yourself and maybe you’ll see that people actually care about you!”

“Just fuck off, ok? Go enjoy your date, romance her with a shag in a broom cupboard, why don’t you?”

“Fine, I’ll go. But you’re being a right prick, you know that?”

Remus turned back to his bed. He heard Sirius scoff and then the door closed.

Remus sighed. That could have gone a lot better. He looked down at the pile of sweets. Really, it was nice of Sirius to think of him. Why couldn’t he have just said bloody thank you?

Remus may or may not have had a shameful wank that night thinking about how hot Sirius had looked while mad.

____________

Remus ate the chocolate. He wasn’t just going to let it sit around and go bad, as much as he wanted to, simply on principle. Things were weird between him and Sirius for the next little while. He avoided the subject of Mystery Girl at breakfast the next morning, but that might have just been for Remus’ benefit. As usual, running around the castle grounds under a full moon set everything back into their place. Remus, after getting a stern talking-to from Lily, thanked Sirius for the sweets.

It was now March. Remus’ eighteenth birthday was coming up. It was a weird age, eighteen. He will have been legal in the wizarding world for an entire year but now he was going to be legal in the muggle world too. The other Marauders were purebloods, so he was glad to have Lily to talk to about the weird limbo he was in. Remus wasn’t sure Lily knew just how much he cared for her.

It was nearing midnight on the ninth. Remus was making his way to the Common Room. He was having trouble sleeping and was surprised to find Lily curled up on the couch with a book. She gladly lifted one end of the blanket she was using, and Remus joined her on the opposite end of the couch. Their feet were touching under the blanket and Remus liked the little bit of physical touch. He was feeling rather melancholic. This would be his last birthday at Hogwarts. He felt as if Lily could sense his feelings and they talked for quite a while. There was a natural pause in the conversation and Remus felt completely at peace, for once. “Lily?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t think it’s weird that I’ve never had a girlfriend, do you?” He asked.

Lily shook her head. “No, I think it’s perfectly alright for you to wait for the right girl.”

“What if I don’t want that?” Remus looked down and started playing with the corner of their shared blanket.

“To wait?”

“The right girl.” Remus didn’t dare look up to meet Lily’s face.

“I think it’s perfectly alright for you to wait for the right boy.”

Remus’ head slowly raised, and he met Lily’s eyes. She had the softest smile. Remus let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and felt Lily place a comforting foot on his.

“Moony? You down there?” Broken out of his trance, Remus turned his head in the direction of James’ voice.

“Yeah?” He called back.

“Lads! He’s down here!” James yelled, presumably back into the dorm. There were sounds of commotion and Remus quickly turned back to Lily.

“Lily, they don’t - I haven’t told -”

“Don’t worry.” Again, with that soft smile. Lily Evans was something else.

James, Peter, and Sirius came clambering down the stairs and before Remus knew what was happening, they launched themselves onto the sofa. Lily yelped and moved out of the way. “What the fuck -” Remus was squished under the weight of the three fully grown boys.

“Happy birthday Moony!” James yelled from the top of the pile.

“It’s after midnight!” Peter, middle, supplied.

“Happy birthday, Moons.” Sirius. Bottom.

Sirius’ head was pressed against Remus’ chest and while it felt delightful, and perfect, and oh so right, he really needed everyone to get off of him because if Sirius felt the hardon that he was trying to fight back then not only would this be his last birthday at Hogwarts, it would also be his last day at Hogwarts, period. “Can we maybe not kill the birthday boy?” Merlin bless Lily.

“Lily!” James finally noticed that his girlfriend was also in the room and he pushed himself off the pile. This caused Peter to fall off but Sirius didn’t move.

“You’re squishing me, asshole,” Remus said, trying to push him off.

“Oh shut up, you’re fine,” Sirius got off of Remus and offered him a hand to help pull him back into a sitting position. Remus took the hand and tried to shut his brain off when it also felt right. Sirius sat on the couch where Lily had previously been. Peter was on the floor.

“So, Moony, you ready for the party?” James was now sitting in the armchair with Lily on his lap. Remus groaned in response.

“Oh come on, it’ll be great! We’ve even got other Houses coming!” Sirius added, as if that was supposed to make him feel better.

Sensing this was the wrong move, James piped up. “Not too many though, just a few we know you like to study with. Speaking of, do you happen to know a Ravenclaw Prefect? He was standing with the group, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with him,” Remus stopped breathing.

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that, James,” Lily teased.

“Uh, he has black hair, a little taller than me, kinda looks like Sirius but shorter hair and ten times more awkward,” James laughed.

“Oh! Charlie! He’s lovely! How do you know him, Remus?” Lily asked.

Remus was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that James said he looked like Sirius that he didn’t answer right away. He did not have a type. “Oh, uh, he prefers the library when it’s late, we studied together last year.” At least this wasn’t a lie.

“Oh ok, good ‘cause Padfoot was really trying to sell the party and said that you’d love to see him there. He looked pretty pleased.” James said.

“You WHAT?” Remus snapped his head to look at Sirius. No one said anything.

“I, uh, we can uninvite him, if you want?” Sirius said softly, scratching the back of his neck.

“I thought you said that you study together though?” Peter asked.

Remus breathed heavily. “Past tense. He doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

“Well, I think you might be wrong there, he seemed excited,” Sirius said, thinking that it would help.

“Yeah, well I’m not!” Silence. Again. “Look, fine, whatever. Maybe he won’t show up.” Remus sighed and got up off the couch.

“Remus I-” Sirius started

“No. I’m going to bed.” Remus left the room and went up the stairs to the dorm. He got into his bed. He still wasn’t tired. At least he didn’t cuss out Sirius this time.

____________

Remus’ birthday for the most part passed by in an uneventful blur. He was debating talking to Lily about the whole Charlie situation seeing as she was now officially the only person who knew he was gay. And she likes boys too, maybe she would have some advice?

Remus’ birthday fell on a Friday this year so he still had classes to go to but luckily, he wouldn’t have to worry about the hangover he’s counting on happening tomorrow. Remus was tired. Not because he didn’t get enough sleep, no, it was more a mental tiredness. He was looking forward to getting absolutely pissed tonight and just forgetting about everything.

Remus never looked forward to the parties the Marauders threw for his birthday. He enjoyed himself, sure, but he always felt quite out of place. Everyone was there for him. Or, well, that was the idea. Should he dress up? Sirius always did for his own birthday. But that was Sirius, he was an outlier in the data. Maybe he should get dressed up. This is his last one, and maybe Charlie will show up. Maybe that’s all Remus needs. A good fuck.

He sighed, looking himself over in the mirror. He decided that the jumper the Potters got him for Christmas and a pair of jeans was the best he was going to look. He could hear music and loud chatter from the Common Room. The party had already started, it seemed.

“Moony?” Sirius knocked on the bathroom door. There was also that issue. There had been no formal apology between him and Sirius. They hadn’t had the chance to be alone yet. It seemed that now was that chance.

Remus opened the door. Sirius was standing there wearing The Jeans and a Bowie shirt that Remus had given him for his birthday that year. Once again, looking far too good. “Nice shirt,” He joked lightly.

“Thanks, my idiot of a best friend got it for me,” Sirius replied, matching Remus’ light tone. That was a good sign.

“Listen, Pads, about last night -”

“Already forgotten. Today’s your day, Moons, you should get to spend it with the people you want to.”

Remus met Sirius’ eyes. “Thanks.”

“And as my apology -”

“You don’t need to -”

“Yes, I do,” Sirius’ tone changed. “And as I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted,” Remus rolled his eyes. “As my apology, I am going to share this beautiful bottle of firewhiskey with you tonight.” Sirius whipped out the bottle from behind him.

“Ok, I can get behind that,” Remus laughed.

“Good.” There was a pause. Their eyes stayed locked. Sirius was the one to break it. “Anyway, I, uh, I gotta piss so …”

“Oh, shit, yeah, go on,” Remus moved out of the doorway to the bathroom. Sirius handed him the bottle and went inside. After the door clicked shut, he unscrewed the top of the bottle and took a large swig. He left the bottle on Sirius’ nightstand and made his way down to the Common Room.

“MOONY!” Remus was met by a very loud James when he reached the landing. This got the attention of the rest of the crowd who all turned to look, letting out a cheer of “Happy birthday Remus!” Ever awkward, Remus opted for a wave in response.

Lily pushed her way through the crowd and gave Remus a big hug. “Happy birthday, love,” She said into his chest. She let go and looked up at him. There was just something about knowing that Lily was there for him that made everything feel infinitely better.

“Drink, for the birthday boy,” James appeared at Lily’s side. He wrapped an arm around her waist and passed Remus a cup with the other.

Remus took it and James raised his eyebrows expectantly. Remus sighed, brought the cup to his lips and chugged.

“There we go!” James gave Remus a rather forceful pat on the shoulder when the cup was empty. Remus laughed, thankful that he had friends to support his wish of getting plastered.

Suddenly, there was a hand gripping his shoulder from behind. Remus jumped a little. “Drink up, Moony my friend,” Sirius’s voice was right in his ear, his free hand reaching around Remus to pour a hefty amount of firewhiskey into the empty cup Remus was still holding. Lily looked utterly shocked.

“Not planning on seeing tomorrow?” She joked.

Sirius moved to Remus’ side, his and still on his shoulder, his arm now wrapped around. Remus wasn’t sure if the warm feeling he was experiencing was because of that or the alcohol that was making its way into his system. Regardless of the reason, he started to down the drink in his hand. “You only turn 18 once, Evans, come on!” Sirius teased.

“Yeah, and you only die once too!” She shot back.

“Evans, if you are to one day become Mrs. Prongs, then I must inform you that us Marauders are actually immortal,” Sirius said matter-of-factly.

Lily rolled her eyes. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Just you wait, I am going to be the sexiest eighty-year-old you’ve ever seen!” James exclaimed. Lily shook her head fondly and didn’t dispute.

Sirius removed his arm from around Remus and started a heated discussion with James about how no, he was to be the sexiest eighty-year-old. Remus tried not to shiver at the loss of contact. He took this time to scan the room. Partly looking for Charlie, party looking for Peter. He always did get himself in the oddest situations at parties.

“So,” Remus stopped his scanning to see Lily had removed herself from James and was now standing at his side. “I’ve been thinking,” She said. Remus could sense that she was being very careful with what she was saying. “Charlie.”

Remus turned his head to look at her. “What about him?”

“I don’t mean to overstep anything, but, based on facts that I now have and your reaction last night, I feel like you two have … history?”

Remus chuckled a little. “You’d be correct with that assumption,” He took another drink. “Didn’t end so great, but also if he shows up tonight, I’m worried he might get the wrong idea.”

“The wrong idea being?”

“That I’m still interested,” Remus finished the rest of his drink.

“So, I’ll take it that it was not a mutual end to things then?” Lily was still hesitant when she spoke.

“Right again!” Remus laughed, starting to feel the buzz that he’d been chasing. “I felt bad because I was essentially using him because the person I am actually interested in will never be interested in me, so …”

“Well, at least you knew to call it off before it was serious,” Lily shrugged. Remus almost opened his mouth to correct her, maybe make a joke about how that was the issue. That it wasn’t Sirius. “So, who is this person that will never be interested in you?” She joked, bumping her shoulder into his side.

Remus sighed. He trusted Lily immensely. So far it was feeling really good to talk to her about these things, and he knew he never would be able to say it out loud without the alcohol so this would probably be his only chance to come clean. “Sirius.” Lily’s eyes widened and her hand flew to her mouth. Remus nodded his head knowingly and raised his cup to his lips only to remember that it was empty. He looked around the room for Sirius so he could get a top-up. “Where is that tosser, anyway?”

“Are you going to tell him?”

Remus stopped scanning the room again and looked at Lily. “I don’t -” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He’s so painfully straight. I don’t want to make things awkward. Instead, I will be drinking my pain away tonight!” He raised his empty cup into the air. Lily just shook her head at him, knowing there was nothing she could say to change his mind.

An hour went by and Remus was drunk. The bottle of firewhiskey had emptied rather quickly and he was really craving a smoke. Remus wasn’t one for dancing, so he mostly spent his time at parties standing in the back watching everyone else jump around. It worked out nicely because he was able to sneak away to the dorm to smoke or take a break from the stimulating environment without his friends following him.

He stumbled up the stairs, one hand trailing up the wall to keep his balance. He pushed his way into the dorm and went to his nightstand to grab his pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out and made his way over to the window. He pushed it open, lit up, and took a drag.

“I was wondering where you were,” Remus turned quickly and saw Charlie standing in the doorway.

“Hey.”

“Nice party.”

“I guess yeah,” Remus took another drag.

“Haven’t seen you much this year,” Charlie took a step into the room. Remus sighed.

“This year’s been mental,” Remus laughed lightly. Charlie walked closer.

“I was surprised to get the invite,” Charlie chuckled, making eye contact with Remus. Charlie had nice eyes. Not Sirius nice, but he could still appreciate them. Remus shrugged. Charlie took the neglected cigarette out of Remus’ hand and took a drag.

“Didn’t know you smoked.”

“I don’t, not usually anyway,” Remus nodded in response, not really sure what else to say. Charlie placed what was left of the cigarette on the window ledge.

“Listen, Charlie -” Remus was cut off by Charlie pressing his lips firmly against his.

Remus made a surprised sound, but he didn’t hate it. Merlin, it had been so long since he had been kissed. He found himself responding quite quickly, his arms snaking around Charlie. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. It was his birthday, after all. He could snog someone if he wanted to.

“Mm, Remus,” Charlie moaned into the kiss. Remus could feel himself growing hard. He could also shag someone if he wanted to. Charlie broke away to trail kisses across his jaw and down his neck. Remus kept his eyes closed. Charlie kept moving lower and when his lips were no longer on skin Remus opened his eyes to see him move to his knees.

“Merlin, fuck,” Remus breathed as Charlie started undoing his jeans. He pulled them down and started palming over Remus’ bulge.

Charlie hooked his fingers into the waistband of Remus’ briefs and slowly pulled them down. His dick sprung free. Remus was a little embarrassed at how quickly he got this hard. “Fuck, I’ve missed your cock.”

Remus reached down and gripped hard on Charlie’s hair. “I’ve missed your mouth.”

Charlie chucked but slowly started licking the tip. He wrapped a hand around it and lowered his mouth. Remus groaned at his dick was met with the wet heat that was Charlie’s mouth. He started bobbing his head, stroking whatever wouldn’t fit. Remus tightened his grip on Charlie’s hair. “Fuck, yeah, don’t stop,” Charlie looked up and made eye contact with Remus. He did kinda look like Sirius, now that he thought about it. Fuck, no, don’t think about Sirius right now. But he couldn’t help it. Charlie’s eyes turned into the specific shade of grey that simply draws Remus in. His hair was longer, more curl to it. Perfect bone structure. Sirius, on his knees, Remus’ cock shoved down his throat. Remus pulled on Sirius’ hair, pushing more of his cock in Sirius’ mouth and he came suddenly with a loud “Fuck!”.

Remus opened his eyes when he heard gagging and looked down to see not Sirius but Charlie. He quickly released his grip on Charlie’s hair. There was a creak and Remus’ head shot in the direction of the door. That was Sirius. “Shit, fuck!” He scrambled for his jeans, trying to cover himself. Charlie swallowed rather loudly and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He stood up, looked back and forth between Sirius and Remus.

“See you ‘round. Happy birthday, Remus,” And he was gone.

Remus finished zipping up his jeans and looked back up at the doorway but Sirius, too, was gone.

____________

It had been a week. The incident of the Birthday Blowjob had not been talked about. Remus wasn’t sure if he was thankful for this or not. On one hand, he was glad not to talk about it because that would also entail having to find out just how long Sirius was standing there. On the other hand, he just wanted things to get back to normal and if that meant talking about it then he just wanted to get it over with. Remus hadn’t seen Charlie, either. He wanted it to stay that way. If he ever did bump into him, he would probably play the “I was so drunk I don’t remember anything card”. It was a low move, but he did cum down his throat imagining it was someone else, so he was already pretty close to the bottom. At least he didn’t moan Sirius’ name.

He was tired of being constantly on edge. Even if Sirius had only seen the tail end (Remus prayed to whatever entity would listen that he wasn’t there watching him cum), he still would have seen Charlie on his knees and Remus half-naked. Not much for the imagination there. He was on edge because essentially that had been his coming out to Sirius. He didn’t know how Sirius felt about gay people, it never really came up in conversation. For all he knew, Sirius could be the nastiest homophobe. Remus’ biggest worry used to be that Sirius was straight and would turn him down. Now it was that Sirius was repulsed by him.

Remus took it upon himself to put some distance between him and Sirius. He desperately wanted to talk to Lily, but he didn’t want to disclose the graphic details. James? No, that would involve him having to come out first. He sighed.

It was a Friday night and Remus was trying to do some reading from the comfort of the Common Room. He tried to forget that this time last week he was sharing a bottle of firewhiskey with Sirius. He tried to forget that as the night went on, they stopped using cups and just took gulps from the bottle. He tried to forget that he’d had Sirius’ saliva in his mouth. How he would like to have more of it. Remus shut his book with more force than he had planned. Merlin’s sake.

“Hey.”

Remus jumped a little and looked over the back of the couch. Sirius was standing at the bottom of the stairs. Like Remus, he was in his pyjamas.

“Hey,” Remus said back.

“Mind if I join you?” Remus shrugged and Sirius walked over. Remus pulled his legs closer to his body so Sirius could sit on the couch with him. Their feet touched. There was a pause. “Do you hate me?”

Remus blinked a few times. “What? No, why would you think that?”

“It just - I feel like lately you’re always mad at me.” Sirius looked down and started picking at his nail polish.

Remus was about to deny that claim until he thought about it. Yeah, he really has been mad at Sirius a lot this term. “I don’t mean to be.”

Sirius chuckled. “Thanks,” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

“No, I just mean … There’s been a lot going on, y’know?” It wasn’t really a lie. Remus just didn’t want to say that the truth was that he’d discovered that it was easier to be mad at Sirius than to pine over him.

Sirius nodded slowly. “About last week -”

“Sirius -”

“No, please let me finish,” Remus shut his mouth. “I just, I want to know what I did that made you feel like you couldn’t tell me.” Sirius kept his head down.

Remus found that he was holding his breath. What was up with this couch and confessions? “Don’t take it personally, really. Lily’s the only one who knew.”

“You told Lily?” Sirius’ head snapped up.

“Well, I mean, she figured it out. All it took was my reaction to you inviting Charlie it seems.”

“So, are you two …”

Remus laughed lightly. “No. Well, last year. He was, uh. That’s who I was with when Prongs caught me sneaking back in.”

“Oh,” Sirius said. He was avoiding Remus’ eyes, looking over his shoulder instead. Remus nodded and started picking at the dirt under his fingernails. “So, you’re -”

“Gay,” Remus didn’t want to hear whether Sirius was going to use a different word or not.

“… How did you know?”

That caught Remus’ attention. “What?” Sirius was red. “Well, I guess my first clue was that I didn’t understand what you lot were on about when it came to girls,” Remus chuckled. “And then I realized that I felt that way about blokes.”

“Like Charlie?”

“Sure.”

“Were you nervous?” Sirius was picking at his nails again.

“Yeah. But I kinda forgot about all that when he kissed me.” Remus shrugged. If Sirius was going to make a fuss about this, he probably would have already.

Sirius nodded, taking this information in. “I didn’t have plans on Valentine’s Day.”

“Huh?” Remus didn’t understand the connection.

“I lied.” Sirius flushed again. Remus liked that shade of red on him. “I wanted to spend it with you.” Remus froze. He could feel his heart beating faster in his chest. “And I kept teasing you because I was worried you’d gone and made plans with someone already. I didn’t mean to hurt your hip that night, I really am sorry.” Remus had almost forgotten about that part of the night. He didn’t know how to feel about the fact that Sirius hadn’t. “I didn’t want to admit to myself why I wanted to spend it with you and then you just snapped at me. The chocolate didn’t make things any better,” Sirius was still looking at his hands. Remus’ mind was going a mile a minute. Sirius wanted to spend Valentine’s Day with him? Has Sirius been interested all this time? Since when? Surely, he would have noticed Sirius flirting with him? Right? “And then I felt like I really fucked up when we told you Charlie was invited,” Remus nodded. “Hence the firewhiskey,” He laughed to himself. Remus enjoyed the sound. “And then … well you know the rest.” Sirius was still red. Remus felt his face heat up the same way.

“Sorry you had to see that.”

Sirius chuckled again. “I’m not.”

Remus’ breath caught in his throat. He was about to open his mouth to say something, he wasn’t sure what exactly, when the portrait hole opened and James and Lily came stumbling through, back from their patrols.

“James, we’ve been over this, we both can’t fit through at the same time!” Lily said through laughs.

“But I don’t want to stop holding your hand!” James whined.

Sirius snorted rather loudly, and James and Lily noticed the two boys on the couch. “James Potter, ever the sap.”

“Oh, shut it, Black, you’re just jealous.” James tried to downplay the redness of his cheeks by teasing Sirius.

Sirius pushed himself up off the couch and stretched, his shirt riding up ever so slightly. Remus tried, and failed, not to stare at the patch of exposed skin. “Well, time to call it a night. We’ve got party planning to do in the morning!” Sirius clapped his hands together and joined James in walking towards the stairs.

“Party? What party?” Lily asked, stopping in her tracks.

“It’s ol’ Prongsie’s birthday soon Evans! Surely you haven’t forgotten?” Sirius teased.

“I didn’t forget. It’s just, didn’t we just have a party?”

Sirius barked out a laugh and wrapped his arm around James’ shoulders. “You are quite observant, Evans. We did in fact just have a party, but that was for Moony. This one is for Prongs.”

Lily sighed. “Fine. But just, maybe not as big as the last one?”

Sirius broke out into a grin. Lily groaned.

____________

A little over a week had passed. Whatever it was that happened on the couch a week after Remus’ birthday was never discussed again. And Remus was going out of his mind. He wasn’t sure what to make of the whole situation. His first instinct was to talk to Lily, but he felt like Sirius would want to keep whatever he was trying to say a secret. That also made Remus’ mind spin. There were things that Sirius only wanted Remus to know.

James’ birthday unfortunately fell on a Monday this year, so the party was set for the Saturday before. Remus wasn’t sure what the crowd was going to be like. He knew that James was more popular than him so logically there would be more people, but on the other hand, Lily did ask for a smaller group and knowing James he probably let her have that win. Charlie was not invited.

Remus was nervous. He felt like tonight was the night to decipher Sirius. Once Sirius was drunk, he would be an open book. Remus was not planning on drinking. He wanted to be able to remember whatever Sirius says to him.

He was in the bathroom, fixing his hair when he heard the music start. Voices became louder and it was eerily similar to last time. “Stop fussing, you look good,” Remus’ hands froze. He saw the reflection of Sirius standing in the doorway through the mirror. He looked good.

“Hair’s getting a bit long I think,” It was starting to curl at the ends.

“No, I like it,” Sirius stepped forward and reached up to run his fingers through Remus’ hair. Remus’ eyes fluttered close at the touch. “Remus, I- ”

Remus slowly opened his eyes. They were standing really close. Sirius’ eyes quickly glanced down to Remus’ lips. The air was thick. Gathering all his courage, Remus slowly leaned down and removed the few inches between them.

Sirius’ lips were wonderful. They were softer than they looked, tasted like sweets with a hint of tobacco from the cigarette he bummed off Remus earlier. But best of all, they kissed back. Remus felt like he was going to faint when Sirius’ lips moved together with his own. Sirius’ hands slipped from Remus’ hair and rested on the back of his neck. Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius’ waist and pulled him closer. The kiss deepened and Remus could have sworn he heard Sirius moan. His grip tightened and he pulled away from Sirius’ lips, kissing across his jaw, trailing down to his neck.

“We should probably head down, no?” Sirius asked breathlessly. Remus hummed in approval but didn’t stop. “Remus, if you don’t stop now then I’ll never let you.”

Remus chuckled. “Now that sounds like a good deal to me,” He bit down lightly on Sirius’ neck. Sirius swore and gripped onto the hairs at the bottom of Remus’ neck.

“Fuck, I want you, Moony.”

Remus paused to look at Sirius’ face. Fuck did he want Sirius too.

“Hey, are you tossers coming down or not?” James’ voice tore them apart.

“Yeah, just a sec!” Remus shouted back. Sirius was still regaining his composure. Remus revelled in the fact that he was the cause of that. “Continue this later?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“That better be a promise.”

“Oh, I promise,” Remus said, smacking Sirius’ ass on his way out of the bathroom.

____________

Torture. The night was nothing, if not torture. Once Sirius had regained his grasp on the world, there was no stopping him. Little things mostly, just to tease Remus. But on multiple occasions, he squished his way through groups of people “accidentally” brushing his ass directly over Remus’ crotch. It wasn’t until the fourth time that he tried to do this that Remus decided that two can play at that game. He gripped Sirius by the waist, holding him in place. No one was paying attention, they were all trying to have their own conversations over the music. Remus pressed himself harder against Sirius, making his erection known. “Are you just going to keep teasing me all night?” He asked, directly into Sirius’ ear.

“Maybe …” Remus tightened his grip and Sirius bit on his lip.

“How would you like it if I did that to you, huh?” Remus lightly nibbled on Sirius’ earlobe. He let one of his hands trail lower, down the front of Sirius’ thigh. “I could just palm you right here.” Remus felt Sirius shudder. “Oh? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Sirius started nodding his head feverishly. “Hmm, well maybe you should have thought about that before you started teasing me, then.” Remus released Sirius and took a step back.

“Oi, Pads! How much have you had to drink, mate? I’ve never seen you this red!” Remus smirked at James’ comment. He watched as Sirius tried to pull himself together while James made his way closer.

“Just need a bit of air, I think,” Sirius choked out. Remus tried not to laugh.

“Hey! Moons!” Remus’ head perked up and he joined the conversation. “Take Pads upstairs and crack a window, yeah? Lily will be furious if he pukes down here.”

“Yeah, sure,” Remus agreed and wrapped an arm around Sirius. “Come on mate, let’s get you upstairs.”

They turned and made their way towards the stairs, pushing through groups of people as they went.

The second they made it into the dorm Remus pushed Sirius against the door and kissed him. He responded just as hungrily. Sirius’ lips were still as sweet as before, less tobacco, but no alcohol. It seems that Sirius also wanted to be sober for tonight. Remus was thankful.

Remus broke off the kiss and started trailing kisses across Sirius’ collarbones. “Can I confess something?” Remus paused what he was doing and met Sirius’ eyes. Sirius’ face reddened and he looked away. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about when I walked in on you,” Remus raised an eyebrow. “I came so hard that night thinking about it,” Remus went back to kissing Sirius’ neck. He remembered their conversation on the couch. Sorry you had to see that. I’m not.

“I also have a confession,” He said. After a few more kisses, “I was imagining it was you on your knees.”

Sirius groaned. Remus felt the vibrations with his lips. Sirius lightly pushed Remus off and sunk down to his knees. Remus tried not to moan as Sirius started to unbutton his jeans. He unzipped them tantalizingly slow. Once undone, Sirius pushed them down Remus’ legs and palmed his hand against Remus’ erection. Sirius slowly pulled down Remus’ boxers and his dick was finally free. Sirius glanced up at Remus. He nodded, and Sirius began trailing his tongue across Remus’ shaft. Remus instinctively reached out to get fistfuls of Sirius’ hair. He moaned and Remus tightened his grip.

“I’ve had enough of your teasing,” Remus seethed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sirius replied, his innocent demeanour a stark contrast to his current actions.

“Don’t make me just fuck your mouth, Pads” Remus was mostly kidding. He very much had a dominant side, but he’d never had many opportunities to use it. Even with Charlie, it stayed relatively dormant.

“Yes, please.”

Remus choked on his spit. Sirius did not respond with words, instead, he simply let his jaw go slack. Remus nervously thrust his hips, edging his dick past Sirius’ lips. He kept going until he reached the point where he figured Sirius couldn’t take more. Sirius, ever impatient, reached for Remus’ thighs and forcefully pulled him closer until his nose was flush with Remus’ stomach. Remus let out a moan. Never in his life had someone put his whole dick in their mouth.

Sirius gave Remus’ thigh a tap, bringing him back down to earth. Slowly, Remus pulled out and thrust back in. It felt amazing. He gripped harder on Sirius’ hair and squeezed his eyes shut as the moan Sirius released vibrated around his dick.

“Your mouth is so good,” Remus said, continuing to fuck into it. Sirius moaned again, louder, if that was possible. His cheeks were red, and spit was dripping out of his mouth, he was quite the sight. “You look so fucking good right now,” Sirius made a noise that Remus hadn’t heard before and he pulled out and removed his hands from Sirius’ hair, worried that he’d hurt him.

“Why’d you stop?” Sirius’ voice was hoarse, and Remus’ dick twitched.

“I thought I hurt you,” Remus said. Sirius bit his lip in embarrassment.

“You didn’t, not that I’d mind,” Remus inhaled sharply at that revelation. “I just, really liked what you said.”

“That you look good with my dick in your mouth?” Sirius nodded, biting back a moan. “Well, it’s true,” Remus reached down and swiped up some of the drool from Sirius’ chin before bringing the finger into Sirius’ mouth. Sirius groaned.

“Fuck, I need you.”

Remus pulled Sirius up by the collar of his shirt and smashed their lips together. “Bed. Now.” He growled into Sirius’ mouth. Sirius obeyed and all but sprinted to Remus’ bed. Remus kicked off his shoes along with his jeans and underwear currently pooled at his ankles. He grabbed his wand and locked the door. No interruptions this time.

Remus turned around and made his way over to Sirius. He was laying in the middle of the bed on his back. On his way there he had kicked off his shoes and his jeans were also gone. Remus walked up to the bed and got on it, straddling Sirius. He palmed over Sirius’ dick. “What do you want?”

“Anything, please, just touch me.” Sirius moaned, closing his eyes. Remus smiled and lifted his hips to pull Sirius’ underwear down. His dick twitched upon contact with the cool air. Remus leaned over Sirius and reached for his nightstand. He opened the first drawer and pulled out his bottle of lube. He sat up and popped the cap, squeezing some into his hand. He tossed the bottle onto the bed and brought his hand down and wrapped his fingers around Sirius. Sirius made a sound at the back of his throat at the touch. Remus began stroking Sirius teasingly slow. When he let go, Sirius whined, and Remus loved the sound. Needy Sirius was definitely a Sirius that he enjoyed. Remus reached for the lube again and squeezed some more onto his hand before bringing it down to his own dick. Sirius wined again and bucked his hips. “Impatient, are we?” Remus teased.

“Please, Moony,” Remus was loving this new side of Sirius he was discovering.

“Please what?” Remus asked, cocking his head to the side.

“More, I need more.”

Remus loosened his grip on his dick and reached his fingers to wrap around Sirius’ dick as well. He started stroking them together and Sirius moaned, sinking his head back into the pillow. “There’s a good boy.” Sirius squeezed his eyes shut and his hips bucked involuntarily.

Remus tightened his grip on their cocks. “Oh, so that’s what you liked, huh?” Sirius bit down on his lip. “You like knowing what a good boy you’re being?” Sirius nodded his head frantically. “Use your words, come on.”

“I like it.”

“You can do better than that.” Remus tutted, giving their dicks a squeeze.

“I like … I like being your good boy.” Remus smiled and picked up the pace.

“Good.”

“Remus,” Sirius moaned. It was only his name, but Remus thought it sounded downright sinful the way it all but dripped out of Sirius’ mouth. “I need you, please, Merlin, please.”

Remus reached for the lube again. Sirius whimpered at the loss of Remus’ hand. He coated a few of his fingers before bringing them back to Sirius, this time much lower than were they were before. “Here?” Remus asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes,” Sirius breathed. Remus rubbed a finger against Sirius’ hole and slowly pressed in. Sirius groaned at the sensation.

“Have you done this before?” Remus asked, slowly thrusting his finger in and out of Sirius.

“Y-yes,” Sirius stuttered out.

“Not so good then, are we?” Remus added a second finger.

“I am, I am,” Sirius moaned out. “I pretended it was y-you,”

Remus tried not to moan at that confession. It was incredibly hot thinking about Sirius, just a few feet and 2 layers of bed curtains away, fingering himself, thinking about him.

“You’re all mine then, huh?”

Sirius moaned as Remus started scissoring his fingers. “All yours, all yours,” he repeated.

“Good boy.”

Sirius let out a strangled cry and Remus added a third finger, for good measure.

“Please, please, please,” Sirius whined.

Remus removed his fingers and quickly stripped out of his jumper. Even though Sirius had seen him shirtless before, Remus was still self-conscious about his scars and wanted to keep his top on until the last possible second.

He reached for Sirius’ shirt and he arched his back to let Remus pull it up. The shirt went over Sirius’ head and he lifted his arms up. Remus let the shirt bunch up at Sirius’ wrists and decided to keep it there. He pressed Sirius’s wrists into the headboard of the bed. “Stay.” Sirius nodded, eagerly.

Remus reached for the lube. After he successfully coated his dick again, he lifted one of Sirius’ legs up and rested it on his shoulder. He pressed his dick against Sirius’ hole.

“Please, Remus, please,” Sirius moaned, again with Remus’ name, and that’s all he needed. He pressed in slowly and Sirius moaned out. It was at this point that Remus was thankful for the noise coming from the Common Room that would drown out the noise coming from Sirius.

Remus kept easing himself in. When he was fully inside, he let his body relax. “You feel so fucking good, Sirius.”

Sirius moaned in response. He went to move his arms forward, but Remus reached out and gripped the middle of the shirt, pressing Sirius’s hands back into the headboard. “I thought I told you to stay?” Sirius whimpered. Slowly, Remus began to move, pulling out and thrusting back in. Sirius was biting on his lip, trying to keep his noises in. Remus started moving faster, desperate to get Sirius to release those dirty sounds.

“F-fuck, more, I need more.” Remus agreed with Sirius’ wish and picked up the pace. He leaned down and attached his lips to Sirius’.

The kiss was more teeth and breathing into mouths than lips, but Remus didn’t mind. “So good,” He moaned into Sirius’ mouth.

There was a knock at the door. Remus froze his movements. “Hey, just wanted to check-in, everything alright?” James.

Remus got an idea and slowly started thrusting back into Sirius. “Yeah, everything’s good!” Remus shouted back.

“And Pads? He hasn’t gone and made a mess, has he?”

Remus looked down at Sirius and raised his eyebrows, urging him to respond to James. Remus picked up his pace, fucking deeper and harder.

“Y-yeah! Everything’s good!” Sirius was straining, trying to keep his composure.

“You want me to come in? Moony and I can take shifts if you need it.”

Remus bit back laughter. “What d’you say? Want to take turns with me and Prongs?” He asked, quiet enough that only Sirius could hear.

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut. “N-no! That’s okay! Go enjoy your p-party! OH!” Sirius pressed his lips tightly together. Remus had found the perfect opportunity to find Sirius’ prostate. He kept hitting it.

“You sure?” James was persistent.

Sirius opened his mouth, but nothing came out other than the tiny sounds that he couldn’t stop from escaping.

“We’re good Prongs, he’s perking up, we’ll probably be down in a bit,” Remus replied, punctuating his sentence with a particularly hard thrust.

“Okay, just find me if you need anything,” James said.

When Remus figured enough time had passed and James had returned to the party, he reached for Sirius’ wrists and pulled off the shirt. Sirius’ arms fell immediately, and he gripped down on Remus’ sides, his nails digging into the skin.

“You did so good, so so good.” Remus pulled out completely and Sirius whined at the loss. “Why don’t you show me how good you are and get on top?”

Sirius nodded vigorously and he sat up to swap spots with Remus. Remus laid back on the bed and watched as Sirius straddled him and positioned himself. He gripped Remus’ dick and slowly sunk down. “Fuuuuck,” Remus moaned. Sirius slowly raised himself up and then swiftly back down again. Remus was in heaven. Sirius leaned his head back as he bounced up and down. “You’re so fucking hot.”

Sirius smirked, the cocky bastard, and began fucking himself faster. Remus loved how Sirius’ dick bounced around with him, dripping precum as it went. He could feel himself growing closer.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m going to cum,” Sirius moaned, and Remus started thrusting up in time with Sirius. Sirius reached behind him and held onto Remus’ thighs to balance himself as he started moving faster.

“Are you going to cum without me even touching you?” Remus realized.

Sirius bit down on his lip. “Mmmhmm.”

“Oh, fuck Sirius, yes, yes, cum for me, such a good boy.”

“Fuck, Remus!” The sound Sirius let out as he came was too much to handle for Remus. Sirius kept bouncing on his dick as ropes of cum coated Remus’ stomach. Remus lifted his arms and gripped Sirius’ hips. He pulled him down at the same time that he thrust one last time, cumming with Sirius’ name on his lips.

After the two boys caught their breath, Sirius removed himself from Remus. He reached for his wand that was resting on the nightstand and with a quick scourgify, the mess he left on Remus was gone. He then flopped down on the bed, resting his head on Remus’ chest. “Fucking hell.”

Remus let out a breathy laugh and started to lazily play with Sirius’ hair. “I would very much agree with that.”

“Remind me to get on your bad side more often,” Sirius laughed.

“What do you mean by that?”

“If all it took was me pissing you off a couple of times for you to fuck me like that then I will gladly face the consequences.”

“I think you’re forgetting that we made up each time, idiot.”

“Are you going to tell me that there wasn’t lasting sexual tension?” Remus didn’t answer. “Exactly my point,” Sirius laughed.

“If you piss me off one more time then you’re going to get a lot more than a fucking.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, now.” Sirius tutted.

Remus lifted Sirius’ head off his chest and repositioned himself so he was on top of Sirius, one hand on either side of his head. “When have you ever known me to not follow through on something?” Remus asked, lowering his head to kiss across Sirius’ collar bones. When he reached the nape of his neck he bit down slightly and sucked a large bruise.

Sirius pushed Remus’ head away. “Okay, okay, I take it back. I can’t do another round just yet, Merlin!”

Remus chuckled and put his weight back on the bed beside Sirius. “Don’t mess with me, Black.”

“Oh, you know I already plan to.”

#harry potter #the marauders #marauders era #marauders #james potter #peter pettigrew #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #wolfstar fic #wolfstar #wolfstar smut

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merrock · 2 years ago

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CHARACTER INFORMATION

face claim: simone ashley

full name: Divya Nadar

nickname(s) / goes by: Div

pronouns & gender: she/her, cis woman

sexuality: Hetersexual/Straight

birth date: April 17, 1996 (26)

birth place: Trenton, New Jersey

arrival to merrock: 2017

housing: Historical District

occupation: Wedding Planner

work place: DIVine Wedding Planning

family: Mother & Father, no siblings

relationship status: Single

PERSONALITY

Div is intense and determined, mildly obsessed with success and feels like she doesn’t have time to focus on a social life. She is very kind and would be an excellent friend if she allowed herself the time to build those connections. She has a hard time with traditional or neurotypical processes, so part of why she is so….picky about things is because she knows changing things could throw off any flow she finally got going.

WRITTEN BY: Nika (she/her), est.

BACKGROUND / BIO

Divya Nadar was born into a dynasty. A wedding dynasty. Surely you must know of her father, Anan Nadar? The famous wedding dress designer? Or perhaps you’re more familiar with her mother–the famed Nikah Nadar, wedding planner extraordinaire? Well, regardless of your apparent knowledge (or lack thereof), Divya was destined for a happily ever after with that kind of lineage–and income.

Sure, Div grew up comfortable. Perhaps more than comfortable–her vacations were spent between Venice and Aspen, though most of the time it did include a variety of very fancy get togethers with top talent in the wedding industry. After all, how can you change the marriage game if you’re not ahead of it? From a young age, the girl was aware of fashion measurements and could easily guestimate someone’s bust or hip size with a long enough look. Though, of course, Div would never say anything to anyone unless asked–and, for his credit, Anan was very conscious of his daughter growing up with a healthy understanding that all bodies are beautiful and deserving of respect. In fact, Anan has the most inclusive array of dresses–which was something that set him apart in the early days.

Anyway, Div was aware that her life was set on a path–an aisle, actually, and she was determined to make her parents proud. And, surprisingly, it was something that Div really enjoyed. There was something thrilling about being in charge of someone’s most important day–the pressure to get it just right was something she clinged too.

When Div was in high school, she began accompanying her mother on weddings, as she naturally gravitated to that side of the business. She didn’t have the patience of her father to sit and design gowns–but logistics? She was there. The thrill of forty different vendors ands someone’s most important day on the line? Let’s go

You see, Div has ADHD. Undiagnosed ADHD until the age of 26 but ADHD nonetheless. And if it wasn’t novel, interesting, challenging or urgent–well it wasn’t for her. Not that her parents would ever get her tested–they simply though she was unique but it wasn’t anything to worry about.

Div really took to the family business–and she knew at one point she’d make her own. But her very last wedding as her mother’s assistant…well, that’s when life changed.

This wedding was the biggest one Div had ever been in charge of–the one that she had been working on for months. She was so sure it would be the best–and the notoriety of her putting it into fruition would put her name in the mouths of everyone who was anyone in this industry. This was her big break.

And then it broke–two hours before the wedding, Div caught the groom in a coat closet with his supposed to be mother in law (which, let’s be honest, is not a sight anyone should see). And to make matters worse, the bride had stumbled by just at the right time to see it too. Suddenly, loves true kiss turned into Div’s worst nightmare.

The wedding was called off in secret, causing rumors to swirl about Div’s ability to finish the job. The industry was abuzz with comments about her inefficiency, her lack of communication. They thought she’d forgotten to book the officiant–the officiant– and that’s why the wedding was called off.

Div was hurt–hurt deeply. The bride and groom had left her high and dry and now she had to work fix her reputation. She knew she had to leave her mother’s side to right this so that her business wouldn’t be tarnished because of it.

So Div made two choices: to open DIVine Weddings and to swear off love forever. Because let’s be real–love was a business for her, and she was booked up. What time did she have for falling in love, for heartbreak–for anything other than her work?

You might have noticed that there isn’t much here besides her work–and that’s because Div has only ever known the world of Weddings. She has never really had real friends, she doesn’t have a social life and hobbies are few and far between.

#merrockbio #divyanadar

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the-witty-pen-name · 4 years ago

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The Nanny Pt. 1

Lee Bodecker x Nanny!F!Reader

18+

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, implied age gap (reader is in her 20s), cursing, Sandy and Carl being bad parents, 18+ content in later chapters

Summary:

Based on this Request: The reader moves to Meade/Knockemstiff while answering an advertisement for a nanny in the paper. We learn that the ad was posted by Sandy, who has the reader watch her child whenever she and Carl leave to do their secret thing. After one of these trips, Sandy and her husband never return, so the reader is left caring for their baby. With the new investigation into these events, she meets Sandy’s brother Lee, the older, out of shape, alcoholic bachelor, and they are suddenly thrown into each others lives as he begins looking into his sister’s disappearance. Through it all, Lee starts to fall for her, and they slowly become a family.

A/N: Here is the first part of my newest series and I want to thank the anon who reached out to me with this idea!

If I missed anything I should include as a warning that I missed please let me know!

Taglist Form is in my bio and should be updated to now to include this fic! (If for some reason it isn’t working send me a message and I’ll make sure you’re added!!)

“Damn it, Sandy, can’t you handle that?” Carl yells from his dark room as the baby starts crying again.

“Fuck you, Carl,” Sandy shouts back, hurrying to put out her cigarette before heading to the nursery.

Their little girl was just about a year old, and neither one of them knew what they were doing. Carl was incredibly indifferent and despite her honest attempts at motherhood, Sandy’s maternal instincts never kicked in like she thought it would happen. Carl was annoyed that it cut into their time they would be on trips. They weren’t able to photograph models with the baby on the road, so he’d been itching to get back on the road.

“Is she hungry?” he shouts back, not even bothering to take his eyes off of the most recent photographs he had been developing.

“I just fed her!”

“Then why is she crying?”

“Fuck if I know,” Sandy shouts back exasperated. She scooped up the baby from her crib and started to rock her back and forth in her arms. Sandy also tried burping her, humming a little lullaby she made up on the fly… no luck. She walks around the house with the baby on her hip, trying to rock her back to sleep.

“We haven’t able to get back on the road in a year,” Carl says, clearly frustrated.

“That ain’t purely my fault,” she spits back, “Takes two to make a baby, Carl.”

“Fuck I know,” he groans, “But I need new inspiration. If I take one more picture of nature…”

“If she’s such a hindrance, pay for a damn sitter like I suggested months ago,” she counters.

“We can’t have no stranger walking around the house Sandy,” he points out.

“Just keep your damn room locked, it’s not a huge deal,” Sandy sighs. “Besides, no one is gonna snoop around if you pay ‘em enough. You damn well produce your own incriminating evidence; you should always have that room locked anyways.”

“We only have to worry about your damn brother,” Carl points out, “We hire a fucking sitter that’s two people we need to worry about.”

“You’re just to goddamn cheap to hire somebody,” Sandy states, moving back towards the nursery, the baby now snoring softly.

“You know what? Fine,” Carl says defeated. “But you’re in charge of putting the ad out and hiring somebody.”

“Thank you,” she says in a sing song tone, happy she got her way. But the moment of quiet that follows is short lived as they baby starts crying again.

“Please for the love of God can you just take care of that?” Carl yells, and the argument circles back to the beginning.

You had sat in the small dinner in the corner booth hunched over the newspaper and nursing your now cold cup of coffee. You had just arrived in Knockemstiff and were looking for work. “Any leads?” Julie asked as she topped off your coffee. Julie was your roommate. You had found her the same way you were currently looking for a job. You must have answered at least ten terrible Roommate Wanted ads until you had found Julie. The two of you now share an apartment- the top floor of a three-family owned by a sweet older couple.

“Thank you,” you say without looking up from scanning the ads. “Maybe this one?” You say pointing to one of the ads. She looks to see her manager stepped out for his smoke break before sliding in the booth across from you. You slide the paper over to her and she reads the ad out loud.

NANNY NEEDED Knockemstiff, Ohio

Couple that travels for work in need of a nanny for one-year-old daughter.

Temporary live-in position for several weeks at a time. Pay negotiable.

Call Sandy Henderson at the below number.

“I can sublet the room temporarily while you stay there,” Julie offers. “It’s a pretty vague offer,” she continues. “I wouldn’t commit until you call and speak to that Sandy woman.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll need to be interviewed,” you agree. “What kind of people are comfortable just leaving their baby for weeks at a time with a perfect stranger?”

“Paul is still out back I think,” she chuckles, “I’ll let you use the wall phone.”

You take a seat at one of the stools at the counter, and she dials the number for you and then passes you the receiver. You mouth a thank you and she waves her hand in dismissal as she heads over to take someone’s order.

“Whaddya want?” the woman on the other end answers abruptly.

“Oh, I’m calling about the ad in the paper regarding the nanny position. Is it still available?”

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry, hun,” the woman says, now in a much nicer tone. “Thought it was my brother calling. Yes, it is, and we need it filled as soon as possible. When are you available?”

“For an interview?” You ask.

“Yeah,” she says mumbled, like she is dangling a cigarette from her mouth. “Can you come today?”

“Oh, wow. Yes, I can,” you reply.

“Great, um, you got a pen? Take down this address.”

About two hours, a change of clothes and a cab ride later, you were standing outside a house towards the end of town. It was a little run down, but what building in this town wasn’t? You were a little nervous of course, but it was also the most unconventional way you have gotten an interview. Part of you was relieved, because the woman on the phone sounded real, not phony, but the circumstances still made you uneasy. Julie had the address and said you’d call when you got back to the taxi dispatch.

“Welcome, welcome,” Sandy smiled, opening up the door for you. She had one hand on the doorknob and one of the cutest babies you’d ever seen in the other. “Come on in, make yourself comfortable.”

“Who is this?” you coo, leaning down to the baby’s eye level. “She’s darling.”

“This little sweetheart is Valerie,” Sandy smiles, passing the baby to you. “She’s so well-behaved. Hardly ever cries.”

“She’s adorable,” you smile, as the baby cuddles up close, resting her head on your shoulder. “I didn’t properly introduce myself on the phone. (Y/N) (Y/L/N).”

“I’m Sandy,” she introduces herself. “Please take a seat on the couch, get comfortable. I hate things that are so formal. Bleh.”

You take a seat on the couch, and readjust the little girl in your arms so she’s sitting on your lap and her back is resting against you so she is supported.

“So, my husband and I are on the road a lot, usually,” she begins, “We took some time off when we had Valerie, but we really need to start working again, you understand.”

“Of course, what do you both do?” you ask politely.

“We’re photographers,” she beams, “Mostly nature and landmarks- which reminds me! We have a darkroom in the house, but that door will be locked when you’re staying here. We don’t want any damage to any of the negatives we have stored in there you understand. Everywhere else in the house is yours to explore! And of course we gotta spare bedroom you can call your own.”

“Fair enough,” you joke.

“So, tell me about yourself, honey,” she smiles, crossing her legs in the armchair where she sat.

“Well, I just moved here a few weeks ago actually,” you begin, “I just recently finished school, and now I’m looking for work. I just got my degree in early childcare from the state college.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful,” she says with a clap of her hands. “So, you’re local?”

“Yes, I live in town.”

“Excellent! We’d also love for this to be like an on-call thing as well, you know for date nights and things like that for times when we’re home. Like for a few hours here and there. And of course, we’ll always live money for groceries or whatever you need on top of your pay for emergencies incase Valerie needs formula or diapers or anything.”

“Perfect,” you smile, surprised how well the conversation was going. Sandy was easy-going and nice to talk to. The two of you sat and talked for a little under an hour, her asking all the standard questions you anticipated. You also were able to ask her some more of your own questions as well. It was the most effortless interview you had been on easily.

“I’m sorry you weren’t able to meet Carl today,” she says when she is showing you out. “But hun, I feel confident to offer you the job. We haven’t had many applicants and you’re the most qualified one I’ve spoken to. The job is yours if you want it?”

“When can I start?” you smile, making her laugh.

“Your number is on the resume, right?” she says, scooping up the baby. You nod, waving goodbye to the baby and then saying goodbye to Sandy.

“I’ll call you when I speak to Carl, but I think once he knows he’ll want to head out as soon as we can. Plan for Sunday,” she says as you get into the cab.

Just like she had promised, you get a call from Sandy on Saturday afternoon asking you to show up the next morning at 9. You spend the day packing up your clothes and anything else you’d need for a few weeks. Sandy said they’d be back in two weeks but you pack for three just in case. Julie was also nice enough to help you. You didn’t need to do much. Ever since you had settled in Knockemstiff, you had been pretty lazy with unpacking and for once procrastination played out in your favor.

Julie insisted on taking you out to celebrate that night before starting your job tomorrow. There was a small little bar, a little shack of a place just on the outside of town you went to. Julie had a car and you drove, anticipating she’d have a lot more to drink than you. It was a hotter summer night, so you drove with the windows down and the radio playing a little louder than you normally would.

The outside was decorated with string lights of primary colors and the wooden awning looked like it was one more storm away from collapsing. But the atmosphere inside was to die for. The jukebox was playing loud dance music, and the place was crowded. Empty recycled glasses lined the walls on a high shelf as decoration along with weathered posters of anything Americana. A row of motorcycles and trucks were parked outside the little place and it looked like a pileup from how crowded the lot was. People lingered outside as well, and you both hoped you’d find seats inside.

The two of you found a high-top table and Julie made her way up to the bar, skillfully maneuvering through the crowd to grab you both some drinks. You let your eyes wandering, surveying the room and just people watching. Couples were dancing closely to the music that was rattling the jukebox, and a group of people were sitting at the bar huddles in to watch the little black and white portable television. You also noticed a group of men in uniform several tables down, local police. They weren’t paying any attention to anyone but their own conversation, except one.

He just so happened to have looked up just as your eyes landed on their table. Steel blue eyes cutting across everything and just staring right back into yours. It was a fraction of a second and his gaze was broken by Julie taking her seat across from you. You cleared your throat, and finally allowed yourself to exhale. You felt her raise an eyebrow at you but she didn’t press, just gave you a knowing smirk you brushed off. You still felt his gaze on you even if your view was now obstructed.

Sandy and Carl were in a rush when you arrived in the morning. Sandy ran you through the details of where everything was kept and told you that she would call to check in when she could when they made stopped. She helped you carry your bags in from the trunk of the taxi while Carl packed their bags in their car. He was polite enough, but you felt in your gut to just keep your distance. Sandy led you upstairs to the guest room she told you she worked to clean out for you. It was simple, a bed and a dresser with a small closet. She said it mostly had been storage and her weekend project had been clearing it out for you. It was simple, but good enough for you for sure. You thanked her and she dismissed it saying you were the one doing her a favor, making you laugh.

The whole ordeal was very hurried. Carl was rushing to get on the road as soon as possible and you could tell he was clearly irritated at how long Sandy was taking showing you around and explaining things about Valerie. Carrying the baby in your arms, you finally were settled in to your new role and Sandy gave one more big hug and a kiss on Valerie’s head before rushing down to the car. You waved to the pair of them from the small front porch, Sandy looking back and waving to the baby from the passenger seat until they were out of your line of vision.

The first day was a little daunting. New space, living in a house that isn’t yours and a baby babbling in your arms. She was a sweet thing, and she already had taken a liking to you. Heading over to her nursery, you saw that she had a little play pen folded up in the corner of the nursery and you quickly set it up in your room so you could unpack while keeping an eye on her. She babbled just happy utter nonsense to you while you navigated around the space and her big eyes just followed you, just watching you was entertaining for her for now. You were a new face and she was entertained just by that for now.

A few hours later, Valerie had settled down for a nap in the early afternoon. She was sleeping soundly in her crib and you were getting formula ready for when she woke up. It was quiet, the only noise in the house was the small sounds of your own rustling in the kitchen. You wondered when you would hear from Sandy, if it would be later tonight or in a couple of days. You just were lost in your own thoughts when you were startled by a loud knocking on the door. Instantly, Valerie began to cry. You wiped your hands quickly on the skirt of your dress before grabbing her. You rested her on your hip and rocked her gently, shushing her to calm down while you went to grab the door.

The first thing your eyes saw were the same blue eyes who was looking at you at the bar last night. The man’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked really confused. He had one hand rested on his hip and the other against the doorframe, but he stood up straight when he saw it wasn’t who he expected. Your eyes then went down to the shiny Sheriff’s Badge fixed in place on his uniform.

“Who are you?” he asks abruptly. “Where’s Sandy?”

“Sandy and Carl left this morning,” you explain, not sure if he recognizes you. “I’m their nanny.”

He laughs and shakes his head as he looks down, almost like he doesn’t believe you, or he just doesn’t believe the situation. “Carl? Carl Henderson hired a nanny?” he scoffs and you nod, holding Valerie a little closer. The little girl rubs her eyes and yawns, when her eyes flutter open, she looks at the stranger in the doorway and immediately reaches out to signal she wants to be held by him. You ignore her resistance to wanting to be in your arms until you get more information about why the Sheriff is at their doorstep, though she obviously knows him.

“I’m Sandy’s brother,” he explains, “Did she say when they were coming back?” He doesn’t try to hold the baby yet, just holds out one of his fingers and her little hand holds onto it tightly.

“Two weeks.”

“They hire a complete stranger to watch my niece and live in their house unsupervised while they drive around?” he scoffs, shaking his head again in disbelief.

“I’m more than qualified…”

“It’s not a jab at you, sweetheart,” the man tries to explain, “More so a reflection on my sister and her husband is all. They are… fairly selfish people and I wished this situation surprises me more than it does.”

“Should I tell her you came by when she calls?” you ask.

“If she calls,” the man chuckles, “Sure, let her know Lee stopped by to visit.”

“You don’t think she will?” you ask, tilting your head.

“We’ll see,” Lee shrugs, “Do I know you from somewhere?” He rests his arm back up on the doorframe and looks down to the baby again, extending out his free hand to her again and scrunching her cheeks.

“I don’t know,” you shrug, not wanting to admit you remembered seeing him last night. He purses his lips together and nods, not pressing further. He pushes off from the doorframe and puts his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Must’ve been in a dream then,” he smirks, and you feel your cheeks flush. He walks down the steps and back towards his cop car. “What did you say your name was?” he asks, turning back around.

“I didn’t,” you chuckle.

“Hmm,” he nods, and raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to fill in the blank. You tell him your name and he repeats it back to you like he’s thinking about it, trying it out to see how it sounds.

“Well,” he says, standing behind the open driver’s door, “Good luck, and I hope Sandy proves me wrong. Let me know if she calls.”

Taglist:

@adelaide-walker @thedepressolit @samanthadegaro

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker imagine #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #the devil all the time #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan characters #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker fluff #sebastian stan one shot #sebastian stan imagine #x reader #fluff #smut #nanny!reader #x f!reader #found family

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libraryofloveletters · 4 years ago

Text

Love Delivered To Your Doorstep

Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, mentions of cheating, break ups and killing/serial killers. (<in a joking context)

Category: fluff for the most part.

Word Count: 3.9k

Author’s Note: Doesn’t follow canon, it has a little of buck begins in there but it doesn't follow a strict timeline. It also is written like Buck moves to LA and has his apartment from the moment he moves there while trying to figure out what he wants to do.

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Texting and calling was never your choice method of communication.

Letters had always been more of your thing.

Truthfully, they hadn't been your thing until your boyfriend moved halfway across the country for university. The two of you met in high school, freshman year and became inseparable since. Growing together and promising to always love each other no matter what -you always knew that couldn't be true but it never stopped you from telling him.

When he told you that he was going to be applying to UCLA during your senior year of high school, it came as a bit of a shock to you. The plan was always going to college together, get engaged when you were done school and then married with a house by 30.

You held out the hope of that being possible until the day he showed you his acceptance letter.

You were incredibly proud of him but it was real now, he was leaving.

You watched him pack up his entire life and uproot himself from New York and moved across the country. You sent the first letter to him at what was supposed to be his apartment.

September 30th.

‘Hi baby!

Just writing to see how you're settling in. How’s UCLA ? Have you gotten a chance to go around and get to see the place ? I know you’re there for school but you've got to live a little too. Hope your neighbours are sweet, your mom told me it’s a pretty nice place and it’s got a good view, sounds like your type of place. Hopefully I can come visit you soon.

I started my classes last week. My chem professor is a pain in my ass already, he expects us to read an entire textbook in a week - well not exactly an entire textbook but you get the point. My biology professor is a sweetheart, she showed us pictures of her kids and talked about them for an hour, I didn't realize being a mother was so interesting but she was cool. Also showed us a video of an appendectomy that one of her colleagues performed last week. How are your classes and professors ?

Did I mention I bumped into Sam at the grocery store ? Yeah, he’s back and he’s not fine to tell you the truth. He seemed like he was ready to snap but that might just be my judgment. He said to tell you hello if I spoke to you so- hello :)

I’m going to sign off here, I know this one is short but I don’t have much to update you on. Life’s been pretty dull without you. Hope you’re having fun out there, soaking up the sun for me.

Write me back soon, I love you.

Yours always, y/n’

You mailed the letter the next day, a few weeks had passed before you received a letter back. Except this letter had a different sender name but the same address.

October 22nd.

‘Hi y/n,

This isn't your boyfriend. (I'm assuming that’s who you're writing too based on the context of the letter) I’m Evan, I live in the apartment you thought belonged to your boyfriend or maybe you got the address wrong, I’m not sure. I know you were waiting for an update on all these exciting things that are happening at UCLA. I do not go to UCLA nor can I update you in anything exciting that’s happening there, sorry.

Anyways, the reason I'm writing you back is because I figured you’d want to know that this isn't the correct address and the person you were looking for isn't here before you send another letter and get no response. I was debating if I should have even written you back, but here I am, writing you back.

Your professor for chem seems like an ass to be honest (hope that’s not rude) and your biology professor sounds great, is she hot by the way ? because bonus points for that. Anyways, are you studying medicine ? I'm guessing yes because of the classes you're taking. I'm thinking of signing up to become a first responder but I haven’t decided yet on what yet or if I'm actually going to do it. Anyways, good luck on your classes and the shitty chem professor.

Hope you find your boyfriend (again, assuming)

Peace out,

Evan.’

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. How could the letter you sent to your boyfriend’s apartment belong to someone else ? Why was there someone else living in his apartment ? You dug through your apartment, searching for the paper he left you with the address, you finally found it buried in a drawer.

The address on the paper was identical to the one that Evan sent to you and to the one you sent prior to that. Either your boyfriend was lying or you were losing your mind.

November 4th.

‘Dear Evan,

I'm sorry that I sent the first letter to you and as you guessed, I was looking for my boyfriend who seems to be a bit MIA right now. His mother says that’s the right address and the place that she helped him move into. So I'm not really sure what’s happening there. Anyways, sorry for unloading all of that on you.

To answer your question, yes, I am studying medicine and no, she isn't hot. My bio professor is a 65 year old woman who loves her college aged kids very much. If that’s your definition of hot, then yes - she's got milf status

Have you decided yet if you’re going to sign up to be a first responder ? That’d be pretty cool. Imagine all the girls swoon over you and how many girls you’d pick up just for being a paramedic or a firefighter.

Wait, are you into girls ? Or guys ? You know, whoever you're into, just imagine how many of them you’d pick up.

Also, you’re not a murderer or anything right ? because I rather not answer questions when the police come asking about why I've been sending letters to a serial killer.

Anyways, signing off for now.

Yours always, y/n.

ps. if you do end up bumping into or meeting a guy that looks like my boyfriend, (tall, brown hair, brown eyes. he’s got a pierced ear and a little butterfly tattoo by his collarbone- though not sure why or how you'd see his collarbone) let me know or tell him that his girlfriend is looking for him.

Double ps, what size shirt do you wear ?’

Buck laughed at your absurd question. A person he didn’t even know was asking what size shirt he wore. The letter was set on the coffee table with the rest of the mail, getting buried under all of the stuff he had on there. It was almost the end of December when he realized that he hadn't written you back yet.

December 21st.

‘Hey y/n,

Sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. Things have been hectic over here. I’ve been doing some ‘soul-searching’ - I guess you could call it that and honestly, I don’t think if this whole first responders thing is for me.

I tried out bartending or well, the technical term is mixologist and I’m liking it so far, I think i’m going to stick with it for now.

How have you been ? How’s school ? Surely, you’re on break for the holidays right about now or at least when you get this letter. I hope that you're spending the break doing something fun.

I’m not going to make this very long, I’m sure you’ve been busy with whatever you’re doing right now.

Also, I’ve been meaning to ask. Have you located the mysteriously disappearing boyfriend yet ? I haven't seen anyone that fit your description.

well, that’s not true- I did and just to be sure I asked to see his collarbone, he looked at me like I was a mad man so I guess it wasn't him ?

Anyways, I hope you have a good holiday and you're probably gonna get this sometime between holidays, so merry belated (?) Christmas and happy New Years y/n.

Peace out,

Evan.

ps. medium or large, depending on what it is. Hopefully that answers your question weirdo.’

January 13th.

The morning of the 13th, he went down to check his mail. A box was there with his name on it, the return address was one he had only seen on an envelope. The box returned upstairs with him, setting it on the counter before opening it.

Upon opening it, there was a letter and some colourful tissue paper with what seemed like a sweater under it. He opened the letter first.

‘Dear Evan,

Happy New Years! How was your holiday going ? Did you do anything fun ?

I’ve been good and school is good too, I'm almost done my first year, isn't that crazy ? Just a few more months to go.

How’s your job as mr. mixologist going ? I'm sure you’ve met some wild people and heard some interesting stories.

As for the boyfriend situation, that's over. I’m not surprised to tell you the truth but it still kinda sucks. Anyways, so what happened was that his older brother had come home from college last year and brought a friend with him. She went to the same school as his brother but transferred to UCLA- anyways long story short, they hooked up while he and I were still together and he moved in with her after his mom helped him move into the apartment I thought he had.

But! I’m single and chilling now so it’s all good. (bonus, she cheated on him and left him so yeah)

I got you a little something for Christmas and as a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present. I was in the gift shop and it made me think of you. Do you celebrate Christmas? I forgot to check oops. If you don't, count it as a just a “sorry for unloading all my boyfriend drama on you” present?

I got a large because I wasn't sure if it would fit. I hope you like it. That’s all for now.

Yours always, y/n.’

He unwrapped the tissue paper to see a blue sweater with the letters NYU on it. He smiled, he assumed that’s where you went. It was sweet that you took the time to get him something, even if it was a by the way thing. Not a lot of people would send something to a person they had been talking to via letters and halfway across the country.

February 12th.

2 days before Valentine's Day, your least favourite holiday of the year. You weren't looking forward to watching all your friends going on with their boyfriends and girlfriends. The mail had arrived while you were out, you picked it up and headed in. There were two envelopes with your name on it, a plain white one and a red one. The red envelope was more squared than rectangular, you assumed it was a card- both had the same sender name.

‘Hey y/n!

Thank you for the sweater, it was nice of you to think of me and get me something. I didn’t know we were doing gifts or I would have sent you something as well and yes, I do celebrate Christmas.

My job as ‘mr. mixologist’ was going well until I quit. It just didn’t feel like the right fit for me you know ? I'm going to see what else is out there for me.

Sorry to hear about your boyfriend, he seems like a douche. Who would cheat on you ? You seem great I mean at least you are on paper (did you get my joke, it’s hard to tell)

Also, remember how I was thinking I might actually give that first responder thing a try? Imagine me as a firefighter, that’s pretty cool right ?

So I kinda did a thing and signed up and then I got in. I started two weeks ago and it was kicking my ass at first but I've gotten a hang of it and things are going pretty well. There's three other Evans in my class so everyone calls me Buck-I kind of like it.

The other envelope, hopefully you opened this one first, is a little something for you for valentines. Hope you like it.

Peace out,

Buck’

The red envelope was on your lap, you pulled the edges carefully not wanting to rip it. Inside was a plain white card with bright red letters that made you laugh. The cover read ‘I’m not sick of you yet!” Opening the card, a $20 fell onto your lap. There was a little message inside that went along with the cash.

‘Since we aren't together and can’t spend valentines together, there’s some cash to get yourself a box of chocolates and a teddy bear. Happy Valentines Day y/n

Love, Buck.’

You smile, this was the first time that Buck had signed with ‘love, buck’ it had always been ‘peace out, buck.’ You tucked the card into the drawer, one you didn’t use very often so you knew it’d be safe there.

*4 years later*

A few weeks had passed since Buck had last heard from y/n. His last letter to her was at the end of June, telling her all about the day he had spent at Hen and Karen’s. He always described every little detail so vividly that it made her feel like she was there with him- but it was now July, end of actually and moving into August.

4 years had blown like nothing.

It felt like just yesterday he got the first letter in the mail. 4 years and they still had no idea what each other looked like but they knew every intricate and intimate detail about each other, their lives and the people in it.

Y/n and Buck had grown rather close over the last few months- more than they already were. Y/n just went through a pretty shitty break up and Buck wasn't exactly big on relationships as of right now.

He had just gotten home from work, his keys set on the counter when he realized that he forgot to check his mail. Stepping back out, there was a woman in the hallway and boxes scattered across her, leading into the apartment down the hall.

She must be his new neighbour.

He wanted to go over and introduce himself but she was busy telling the movers where to set her couch so he decided that he would check the mail and then introduce himself when he returned so he did just that.

Except, she was still busy.

She leaned against the wall, watching the movers move what looked like a coffee table. She glanced up to see Buck walking by, she smiled and he returned the smile.

Buck reaches his apartment, the mail in hand and steps in. He sorts through the pile, bills, ads, coupons and no letter from y/n.

---

Your new apartment was a mess. You decided it was time for a change. You applied to a few hospitals after your break up and the one in LA hired you. So you dropped everything and moved- no family, no ties.

A fresh start.

It was a nice neighbourhood and the building was quiet. The neighbours you met were pleasant and welcoming. When you were having the furniture moved in, there was a blonde man who smiled at you and you assumed he lived in the unit down the hall because that’s where he stepped into.

It was almost 11pm when you finally sat down. You had been on your feet all day and just wanted to eat something. The box with the dishes was beside the couch, you pulled the tape off and opened it. There was an envelope sitting on top of the stack of plates.

Buck’s last letter to you.

You must have tossed it into the boxes while packing and you forgot to write him back. Tumbling through the boxes, you find a sheet of paper and a pen from your bag. Sitting on the floor, the paper resting on an unopened box, you begin writing.

‘Dear Buck,

I’m sorry I've taken so long to get back to you. I quit my job, and uprooted my entire life. The break up sucked major ass as you know, so I decided it was time for a change.

Guess where I decided to go ?

Did you guess yet?

No, not Canada, why would you guess Canada ?

LA!

Yeah, isn't that crazy that I ended up here of all places? Maybe we could get together one day (if you haven’t turned into a crazy serial killer that is.)

Anyways, that’s why I've taken so long to write. I was packing when I got your letter and I tossed it in a box and just found it again. Anyways, I hope you’ve been good, how have things been at the station ?

I promise I'll write again with more details soon, I just have to get settled in first.

Yours always, y/n.’

Folding the paper, you slipped into an envelope. The address being scribbled into the back of the envelope. You were about to seal it when the building number caught your eye.

It was the same number as the place you moved into. The same address, the building number, the same floor.

The unit number was the only difference.

There was no way you moved into the building that Buck lived in.

You knew the address felt familiar when you saw the listing but you didn’t think anything of it nor did it occur to you that you knew the address.

Stepping out of your apartment, looking at the number on the room and back down at the envelope in your hand. Buck’s apartment was down the hall.

Part of you just wanted to mail it and keep things as it was but another part of you wanted to meet him, to see what he was really like in person. So there you were walking down the hallway at a quarter past 11 in the dead of the night to meet a man you had been sending letters to for the last 4 years.

The end of the hallway, you stared at the black wooden door in front of you. Your brain weighing the options right now: he’s a sweetheart and welcoming and makes you feel comfortable or he’s a weird guy who’s been lying to you this whole time and you told him everything about you and now he’s going to kill you.

Before you could register what you were doing, you knocked on the door.

Glancing down at yourself, you were wearing a pair of old shorts and a t-shirt from high school that you found in a drawer while packing. Not an ideal outfit, maybe he’s sleeping and you can go home and change- the door opened, a man wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt stood there. He looked like he had just woken up.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“It's alright,” he yawned, his hand covering his mouth as he blinked away a few tears. “What can I do for you ?” he leaned against the door.

“Um, this is an odd question-” you shifted, glancing down at the envelope in your hand. “Are you Buck ?”

“I am, who are you ?”

“Y/n.”

You had never seen a man wake up that fast, he seemed surprised, confused and concerned all in one. “How- uh, are you- What ?” he mumbled.

“I found your letter in the box after I moved, I moved into the apartment down the hall” you point to your left, Buck sticks his head out of the doorway and looks at the door you were pointing to. You were the woman in the hallway that he saw earlier, he knew you looked familiar.

“I just wrote your letter and I noticed that the addresses were the same, just a different unit number so I decided to come check. Sorry if I bothered you, we can talk another day- it’s late and you probably have work” “Would you like to come in?” he opens the door a bit more, looking to you for an answer.

“Um, okay sure.” stepping in, you can’t help but glance around. The apartment was similar to yours, the layout was a bit different though. “Can I get you something to drink ? Coffee, water ? A beer ?” he rounded the kitchen counter, you took a seat on one of the chairs by the counter.

“Water’s fine, thanks”

He reached for a bottle from the fridge, sliding it over to you. You gave him a smile, he leaned against the counter and was now looking- studying you.

“I know we’ve talked to each other for 4 years but this is kinda strange” you chuckled awkwardly, Buck can't help but smile.

“Yeah, it is, isn't it? but can I ask why you moved to LA?”

“Well all of that was in the letter” you slide the envelope across the counter and he picks it up, opening it. Giving him a few moments to read, you watch his expression like you were hoping for some insight as to how he was feeling or what he was thinking. He let out a laugh, “how’d you know I'd guess Canada ?” you smiled at him, a small wave of relief washing over you for some reason. “Lucky guess I suppose”

“Do you-” “What are-” the sentences cutting each other off, the two of you awkwardly smiling at each other. “You first” looking at him, he hums.

“Do you have work tomorrow or are you busy ?” His eyes meet yours, you found yourself leaning forwards towards the counter- towards him. He made you feel comfortable, you’d go as far as to say safe, in a way you’ve never felt before.

“No, I don't start until the 21st. Why ?”

“I was thinking - if you're not busy and if you want to, of course. Maybe I could take you out for breakfast and I could show you around ? Or lunch or dinner ? Whatever works for you actually” he rambles, fiddling with his fingers to avoid eye contact.

A small laugh slips past your lips causing him to look up, his brows furrowed as he studies your face, looking for an answer.

“Breakfast sounds good, what time should I be ready for ?”

“Uh, is 10 okay ?” he asks, you nod. “I’ll be ready for 10 then.”

“Okay, I'll pick you up” he smiles.

“Buck, we live in the same building.”

“Oh right,” he chuckles, “well I'll be by yours at 10 then” the two of you smiling at each other.

“Okay.”

----

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quietmyfearswith · 4 years ago

Text

was your favorite ; bucky barnes x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

word count — 4,152 words

summary — in which bucky barnes still lives with his ex-girlfriend following their break up.

warnings —fluff?? angst?? ex to lovers, sexual innuendo (just one) cursing i think, sad!insecure!bucky

pairing — bucky barnes x fem!reader

a/n — it too has been long since i got to write for bucky???? anyway i’d love to hear feedback :D also if you choose to follow me please have your age/age range stated in your bio..

tagging — @la-cey @pedropcl @slutforcevans @iloveshawnieboi

masterlist | series masterlist | join my taglist (please follow the rules)

Buck! Have you seen where my cardigan is?” Y/N was bent down over the dryer as she was ruffling through the pile of clothes she placed on the machine to dry but was too lazy to get it out and fold them. The super soldier being addressed to lifted his head from reading the newspaper to cast a worried glance on the woman, “I don’t know; I just did my laundry and I don’t think any of your clothes got mixed up with mine.”

With a huff she got up from her kneeling position, making her hit her head into the top of the machine, then walked away from their laundry room, groaning and rubbing the part of her head that hit the machine; joining his presence in the kitchen and grabbing a glass of water she pouted as she thought of where her sweater was. “Why are you looking for the cardigan anyway? And which one is it?”

Biting her bottom lip, she avoided eye contact with his blue eyes as she stammered out, “You know, it was the one you gave me.” Placing the paper down on the breakfast bar, he leaned closer and pouted at her, “I’m hurt, doll; I knew we broke up but I never thought you were petty enough to throw away my gifts.”

Squinting her eyes at him with a mocking pout, “Ha ha, you know it’s that I don’t treasure your gifts, Buck.” Feeling left out from the whole conversation, Alpine jumped up on the countertops and snuggled herself to Y/N’s stomach; letting her fingers scratch the white fur of the needy cat, “Al, can you go tell your dad how exaggerated he’s being?”

Scoffing, he snatched Alpine from his ex girlfriend's arms and covered his cat’s whole face with his metal hand as if shielding her from evil, “Don’t you dare play favorites! Not with my child who was mine first before she was yours.”

“Let’s be honest Buck, she always cuddles up to my side every time we watch a movie,” Y/N jabbed at him before moving to get her bag, slinging it on her shoulder. Bucky’s blue eyes followed her form from when she picked up her purse in the living room and was about to speak until the sound of someone knocking on their door cut them both off. “I’ll get it,” She placed a hand on his pec and tapped it, “I was leaving anyway.”

The super soldier was thankful that she quickly removed her palm from his chest so she wouldn’t hear how fast his chest was beating; despite having broken up a few months ago, he still gets flustered under her touch. “Hey Steve, how are you?” The Captain hugged her as he entered their apartment, “I’m good; you going somewhere?”

Nodding, she moved out of their apartment and waved the two super soldiers goodbye, “I am! Meeting up with some friends today; bye you two!” When she left the flat, Steve smirked at Bucky, “I got to say two more months of you two living together or not getting back together and I’m gonna lose this bet I have with Sam.”

Expertly, Steve dodged the crumpled up facial tissue Bucky threw at him as he scowled, “Why are you here anyway, punk?” Alpine jumped off Bucky’s arms and settled herself on her bed by the television as Bucky began cleaning up his mug and bowl. “Well jerk, I wanted to come over and talk about the mission.”

After placing all the utensils in the sink, Bucky looked at his best friend with a scowl, “What mission? We both don’t go anymore and just train the recruits.” Loving how riled up his best friend was being, the former captain chuckled loudly as he held his hands up since he got caught, “Okay you caught me. I was just bored at the compound and wanted to swing by.”

A soapy hand pointed to the door as the brunette said, “Well you swung by and said hi; now leave.” Planting his bum firm on one of the bar stools instead of leaving, Steve shot a serious glance on his best friend, “I will after I get the truth out of you.”

Childishly, the metal hand sprayed some water on the blonde who yelled out in surprise upon feeling his face dampen with water, “Real mature, Buck!”

“Says the guy who visited my home because he was bored and decided to play investigator on me!”

Laughing at his friend’s antics and frustrated tone, Steve sighed, “Come on, pal, be honest with yourself this time; why is it you and Y/N still live together even after breaking up?” After moving to place the set of cutleries to dry, Bucky was wiping his flesh hand with a towel as he looked at his friend with furrowed eyebrows. When he was met however with a mixture of worry and stern glance, the former Winter Soldier sighed as he relaxed his brows and he planted his palms on the granite top, “Well it’s beneficial for the both of us.”

“How is it beneficial? You guys are ex with benefits?”

“Idiot! Not like that,” Bucky quickly clarified, “Economically benefit, with inflation and capitalism increasing the cost of living, it helps us save big on rent.” Steve had his mouth hung agape in disbelief at the bullshit his best friend was selling on him. “Economically benefit? You both can afford a high luxury penthouse with both your salaries alone,” His arms opened wide as he referred to their current flat, “And you chose to live in this compact two bedroom apartment following your breakup? You’re not fooling me, pal.”

After grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge and handing one to Steve after he opened both, Bucky gulped down the grainy beverage he sighed out loud as he confessed, “Maybe part of me hopes we both can get back together,” He had to shoot Steve a look when the blonde squealed excitedly at his confession, “But we both just somewhat talked about how much of a hassle it is if we both moved out and during that time we just signed a new lease so it made sense at the time.”

“I didn’t need to learn the last part, you could have just said you wished to get back together and that would have made me happy,” Steve explained before drinking down almost half of the bottle. Rolling his eyes, Bucky walked to the living room and settled himself on the couch — Alpine too followed him and settled herself on his lap, her distinct way of seeking attention — as he stroked her fur and replied, “Well good thing I didn’t really ask for what you wanted, no? Hold on, what are you really here for, by the way?”

Taking the loveseat that was adjacent from where Bucky was sitting, Steve plopped down as he grabbed the remote off their coffee table and turned the television on, “Did you forget that I was coming over to watch the game?”

“And you couldn’t watch it on your own at your living quarter which is bigger and even has the latest television model?”

Steve threw his head back in laughter at his friend’s remark, “Well I could; but the thing is if I didn’t you would probably be grinching your life away,” He tipped his bottle to Alpine who was sprawled over his lap as his metal fingers were delicately scratching her belly, “By the looks of it, you’ve already achieved step one of being a grinch.”

His flesh hand grabbed for one of the throw pillows that Y/N bought first when they moved into this apartment and successfully struck his friend’s head, “Apologize to Alpine this instant!”

A scoff plus an offended look was Steve’s reaction before turning his head back to the game, “Dick! You knew I was kidding! Is this how you are with Y/N, hm? No wonder she broke up with you.”

It was a sensitive topic that Bucky never fully disclosed with any of the friends; somehow he felt that what happened between the two of them should stay with them. And there were many instances where Bucky wanted to tell someone what happened just so he knew how to reconcile with her — but somehow there was always a reason that prevented him from doing so.

“Punk, how would you go about asking your ex to get back together?” His question had the former Captain America smiling; even though his entire face was focused on the game on the screen, the pending conversation had his attention far more than the actual sport. “Well I don’t know, it would depend on how I broke up with that ex.”

Bucky knew what he was doing — he was fishing for more information regarding how things went down. And maybe he does actually have a suggestion. Without going into much detail, he answered, “The breakup seemed mutual and beneficial at first but as time went on it seems to not be the case anymore.”

“What kind of riddle is that, Shakespeare?!”

Somewhat pleased with his confused state, he chuckled, “That’s all the details you’re going to get about my breakup with Y/N,” Part of Bucky was offended with how his Steve let out a disappointed grunt but continued on, “Right now, what’s more important is I get back with her.”

It had been almost an hour and yet the only sounds that could be heard were the announcers detailing the game and the cheers coming from the stadium as the two centenarians thought about how to go about Bucky’s current dilemma. Until Steve broke the silence as he placed his empty beer bottle by the leg of the coffee table, “Why not just be honest and tell her you want to get back with her?”

“It’s not that easy,” Came his quick response; too quick, Steve suspected. Turning slightly to face him, he saw how Alpine now had Bucky’s attention as he baited his metal finger to the feline who was trying her best to bite on it, “It won’t be that easy, at least I think it won’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I messed up,” He confessed quietly as he pursed his lips as he recalled how that night went.

“Bubba, did you happen to get the chocolate I asked to buy?” She asked after ruffling through all their cabinets twice, pouting as she failed to see the sweet she has been craving for. He was cleaning the litter box that was in their bathroom so his voice was faint but she heard it loud and clear, “I forgot to, bub; sorry ‘bout that!”

With a sigh, she closed the cabinet door and instead grabbed a glass of water before walking to the dining table, “It’s okay! I’ll just get some tomorrow or some other time.”

As he was washing his hands, he caught a faint glance of her disappointed frown on the mirror. For a few moments, he racked his brain for the other times wherein he saw her frown due to something he’s done. There were far too many instances that came into mind; Bucky didn’t like that at all.

Despite just drying off his hands with a hand towel, he could feel his flesh hand dampen with sweat as he approached her on the dining table and sit at the chair opposite from where she was — something that she noticed, tearing her eyes away from her laptop, making her feel that something was wrong, “You okay, Buck?”

“I think we need to break up,” Came his immediate answer as he stared at her eyes that showed sadness and grief. “What?” Was all that she could choke out as she pushed her laptop to the side so she could direct his attention to him fully.

“I think we need to break up,” He repeated, his voice sounded stronger and more determined than when he said it earlier; but it was just a front for his insecurities and doubts, “It’s something that we both saw coming, but we’re in denial of its approach.”

Tears were now freely falling out of her eyes as she struggled to get out a coherent response, “But Bucky, we can work it out. What is it? Where did I go wrong?” She was to add some more questions but she was stopped by her hiccups.

Both hands grasped hers and rubbed her knuckles soothingly to calm her down, “I’m sorry Y/N, but this is just for the best for the both of us. It’s better we part our ways now rather than later when my ivy has fully engulfed your brick walls that you have put up.”

Snatching her hands from his hold, she crossed her arms, “Don’t feed me that bullshit, Buck. tell me the real reason why you want us to split.” Gone was her earlier tone of sorrow and was now replaced with shaky strength.

When he just looked at her blankly silently, Y/N just bit her lip as she grabbed for her laptop as she scrolled for a certain email; and when she found it, she showed the screen to her now ex boyfriend, “Guess it was a wrong time to sign for a year-long lease huh?”

“We can still live together for the time being,” His immediate answer surprised the two of them and he decided to cover it up by explaining, “We don’t want to pay an additional fee for infringing the contract. Plus that saves us a whole lot of money for when we move out of here.”

Her mind was foggy with sadness which prevented her from thinking logically so she found herself nodding, “Okay, that makes sense.” She took her laptop from his look and began to search for a new bed frame and mattress. “I’ll move to the spare bedroom and get my things later on.”

Following her drying of tears, she now had a determined pout on her face as she began to scout new items for her bedroom, Bucky came to realize the weight of what he had just done. At the expense of her broken and devastated state, he spared his insecurities and doubts. But he didn’t feel even an ounce of relief, instead he just felt miserable seeing her become so detached from him; it’s your fault, you idiot, he scolded himself.

“Oh, okay. I’m just gonna lay down for a while,” She merely nodded when he stood from the his seat and grabbed Alpine that was on his playing with his toes; as he laid his back on the soft mattress were they both spent time and created some of their best memories, he couldn’t help cuddle the feline closer to him as he now looked back on those memories wistfully, “Looks like you’re gonna be my cuddle buddy from now on, Al.”

“Idiot!” Steve yelled after hearing the story and throwing the pillow back to Bucky with the cushion that was thrown to him earlier, “Let’s unpack what you did wrong here; one, you broke up with her because of your insecurities instead of working on it yourself or with her.”

Bucky had a deep scowl on his face and was about to rebut until Steve held a hand up to let him know he was not yet done listing things, “Two, you didn’t even really give her the option on whether she wanted to break up or what. And lastly, you decided to still live together despite splitting under the guise of not paying more due to infringing the lease and moving out, but you guys have two months left before you have to renew or end your contract! What the hell’s your plan after?”

When Steve said it like that, it did look even worse than it initially was. The former assassin could only groan out loud as he removed his hands from stroking Al’s whie fur and instead covered his face in shame, “I know! I was dumb, and still am! I just want Y/N back, okay?”

Steve silently chuckled as he took in his friend’s whine and Y/N’s stunned look as she had just arrived from going out. Noticing the lack of white fur ball on his lap, he removed his hands from shielding his face as he looked at Steve, and was puzzled when the blonde was smirking but did not have the cat.

“Where?” The question died on his throat as he heard her soft mewl and looked to his right to see Y/N cuddling Alpine in her arms, “Hi, I just got home.” The blank expression she had made it difficult for the two super soldiers to read her; Steve however knew that the two needed privacy in order to talk.

“Well I’m heading out,” The former Captain America stood up and patted his best friend’s shoulder as a way of saying goodbye and good luck, “See you both soon.” He kissed Y/N’s forehead goodbye and left the former lovers.”

“Do you want to talk about what I just heard you say or do you want me to forget about it, Buck?”

Being with her for nearly three years he knew that once her interest was piqued, it would be difficult for her to lose her interest in it as she would do anything to feed her curiosity. “What would you rather do?”

This was new, for the previous times they had confrontation he had decided for her; and to be able to choose for herself — and possibly for the both of them. “I’d like to talk about it; if it’s fine with you of course.”

He gestured for her to take the seat beside her — which she gladly took after placing her bag on the dining table and carrying Alpine with her. “I heard you saying you wanted me back — is there any truth to that?”

“Yes, there is,” He sounded a mixture of confident and desperate; but he didn’t care as he just wanted her back, “I want you back and it was a mistake on my part to let you go.”

“But why did you let me go?”

“Because I was an insecure, self-doubting coward. Do you remember the day when I broke up with you?” She nodded her head as she scoffed, “Obviously, I do.” Her sass had him chuckling, lightening up the mood a little. “Well that day, I saw the look of disappointment on your face when I failed to get you chocolate. I thought that if I can mess this small thing up, what more when it comes to more important things — like an anniversary, a mortgage payment, important events, and things like that.”

Her hands reached out for his and gently kissed the knuckles to calm him down as he was now breathing heavily as he continued to open up to her, “I always knew deep down in me that you deserved to be with someone as great as you; and believe me everyday I tried to be that person. But slowly I saw not only how I wasn’t living up to be the person you deserve, but somehow I just wasn’t making you happy any more.”

Despite letting out what he had been bottling up, Bucky felt both heavier and lighter; lighter because now he had told her the real reason as to why they fell out and what has been haunting his mind for months now. But the fact that she now had a say on what goes on between them made him even more anxious compared to how he would be when going on dangerous missions.

“I’m so sorry you had to go through this battle alone, bubba,” Her statement coupled with her use of their pet name for each other had his heart twisting in a good way, “I wished you had reached out to me so that we both could work through this.”

“You’re not mad? Or disappointed? Or disgusted with me?”

She shook her head as she once again placed a loving kiss on his knuckles, “Why would I do so? You were dealing with anxieties and doubts, I can’t exactly blame you for those can I?” He shrugged his shoulders as he avoided looking her in the eyes, “But still,” Came his weak reply.

Clicking her tongue, she wrapped her arms around him, bringing his head to her chest so she could cuddle and comfort him as they were somewhat laying down on the couch, “Next time you got something going in your head, you talk to me, okay?”

He nodded against her chest and he couldn’t hold back the soft whine of happiness when she kissed his forehead, “I meant what I said, that I want you back.”

“Are you sure that’s what you really want?” She stiffened against his hold; Bucky stood up from where laid comfortably and took her with him, looking her straight in the eye with passion, “It is, bubba. I swear.”

“I don’t know, Buck,” She replied weakly and avoided looking him in the eye, “Maybe this is just your way of easing your guilt and making amends with your past talking. You don’t have to lie, not to me.”

“It’s not, I promise,” He placed his hands on her waist, grabbing her to situate her on his lap, “I love you and I never stopped, nor will I ever. You are someone I can never get sick of — I will always want to be with you, no matter if we do something fun and exciting or something mundane and domestic. I want all of you and want to share my life with you.”

“But what happens when you get those thoughts again? Will you leave me hanging again?”

Hating how small and meek her voice was, he shook his head as he kissed the tip of her nose, “I won’t. Like you said, I’ll work on it alone and with you. I love you, bubba.” She could see no sign of lies or deceit in his eyes and loved what she was hearing — he was a man of his word and knew that he wouldn’t boldly claim such a thing if he had no plans of following through with it.

“I can give you time to think about it if you’d like,” The proposition left his tongue as she suddenly kissed his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him even more closer. He smiled into the kiss as he rubbed her back soothingly, missing the heat that radiated off her skin.

“No time needed to think about it, bub,” She breathed out after pulling away from the kiss, her lips still against his, “I want you back too.”

“I hope you’d still want me back even after my final confession.”

She pulled away from him completely so she could take in his nervous smirk, “What final confession?”

Scratching the back of his neck nervously, he disclosed, “I took the cardigan from the dryer.” She laughed at his silly confession before asking, “Why’d you do it, bubba? It smelt like you and I dressed it up on one of my pillows because I missed you.”

Slapping her hand to his pec, she pretended to be upset before laying her head on his chest, “Well I hope it made your lonely nights better! I had an important reason to wear that today.”

“Oh? And what could that be, missy?” He tickled her sides to get her to speak; after a fit full of laughters she did, “Well I was going out with Rachel and she decided to bring along her friend in hopes of setting me up with them.” By wearing the cardigan, Y/N knew that the person Rachel invited over would be less persistent to pursue since the words “James Buchanan Barnes’ property” were sewn on a patch on the clothing article — a gift Bucky gave her when they passed the one year mark of their relationship.

“So you were cheating on me!” He jokingly accused her to which she pinched his ears as she reminded him, “Excuse you! I was being set up with someone before we got back together — it’s not cheating you know!”

He too laughed at their whole debacle before he stroked her cheek with the flesh hand saying, “I missed you so much, bubba.” She was about to share the same sentiments before they got interrupted by a needy cat who placed herself in between Bucky and Y/N.

“I think Al missed being in the middle of our cuddle sessions too, bubba,” She noted as the cat purred when she and Bucky were scratching the space in between her ears.

With a large grin on his face, he tickled Alpine as he kissed Y/N fervently on the lips, “Look Al, we’re one, happy, and complete family again.”

#quietmyfearswith #please dont steal my work thank you #James Buchanan Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #james barnes x reader #james barnes x fem!reader #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x fem!reader #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader angst

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moonlit-han · 4 years ago

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part ii: filled with sunshine

genre: college au, neighbor au; fluff, humor, slow burn pairing: 3racha x femme reader in poly relationship part word count: 11k part warnings: mature content (18+, specific warnings under the cut), suggestive, explicit language, alcohol consumption request: no a/n: this in no way reflects the actions of stray kids’ bang chan, seo changbin, or han jisung. it is a work of fiction. !! important !!: the author requests that readers be mindful that there is 18+ content in this piece and read only if they are of age. thank you. while the mature content is poetically described, it still exists. and, remember to always get continued and enthusiastic consent as you practice safe sexual habits.

~ read part 1 first! ~

✧ series masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

↠↞

mature content warnings: oral (giving, receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, cock-warming. again, please read only if you are of age.

↠↞

You woke around 10 am on Saturday morning and just lay there in bed, enjoying the memories of the night before. Everything had been hot and almost desperate, but somehow still gentle. And, there was something about not even making it to your bed because you wanted each other too much . . .. Your pulse quickened and you had to squeeze your legs together as you remembered the feeling of his hands exploring every inch of your body, the feeling of his mouth caressing you, that wonderful sense of almost flying. When you looked down at yourself under the sheets, you weren’t surprised to find bruises across your chest and stomach, and were quite glad that it was winter.

Before you’d done anything besides kiss, Jisung had been forthright in saying that he was disease-free and was very careful with who he was intimate with. (You were the one to bring out a box of condoms, since you never knew when you’d need to provide one). You were delighted that he was so aware and honest, clearly taking his actions seriously and taking responsibility for his part in any relationship. Just knowing that had made you relax and, almost, abandon yourself to each and every sensation. You’d made sure to tell him that you were polyamorous, too, making it clear that you were also safe in your habits. Once you’d gotten the talking out of the way, it hadn’t taken long for you to find that your new couch was, surprisingly, quite comfortable to be pressed into.

As he’d pulled his pants back on, Jisung had insisted that he go back to his apartment, saying he had to be up early to go over some notes on a song before meeting with Chan and Changbin at the studio. You also suspected that, despite the two of you just having sex on your couch, he was a bit shy now. Honestly, you couldn’t blame him—if it had all been planned, then maybe he would’ve stayed, but this was all too new, too unexpected.

After stretching to relieve the stiffness in your lower back, you went to shower and get dressed. When you sat down to eat, you brought your phone and that slip of paper with Jisung’s phone number on it so you could message him. It was only right that you did.

y/n: hey babe, last night was really fun

No, that wouldn’t work. I can’t call him “babe” after hooking up only once.

y/n: hi jisung! it’s y/n. just wanted to say than

No, that really wouldn’t work. Thanking him like that would just trivialize the whole experience.

y/n: hey jisung! it’s y/n. last night was absolutely lovely and, let me say, you were fantastic! i’d love to

Nope, now I’m making him sound like a horse that had won a race or something. Damn.

y/n: hey jisung! it’s y/n~ last night was really great and i’d love to see you again. maybe we could get together for dinner one night or to watch a movie? i want to get to know you better!

There. That was good. Okay . . . send!

You sighed, then promptly bolted out of your seat and hid your phone under a cushion on the couch. Not two minutes later, you heard the faint buzz signaling that you’d received a text message.

jisung: hey y/n! ah, i see you used that piece of paper after all ;) i had a lovely time, too! what’s your favorite movie, then? i can try getting it from the library on my way home. jisung: sorry, let me start that bit over again. i’m busy tonight, but are you free next saturday? i’d love to watch a movie with you.

You giggled at Jisung’s evident enthusiasm, and quickly responded.

y/n: yes, i’m free that night :) maybe surprise me with the movie? jisung: a surprise it is, then! your place or mine? y/n: yours? i’ve never seen your apartment and you’ve seen mine a lot… jisung: ….point taken. i’ll have to clean up a little, but i think you’ll like it :) y/n: what time should i come through the connecting door?

You sighed a little as you sent the text. It was more than a little weird that this was how you were going to see Jisung, especially when front doors existed. But, you figured it was only right that you go through that way a few times, since he’d been going back to his apartment like that for months.

jisung: is 7:30 ok? y/n: sure! i’ll see you then… babe ;) jisung: *blushes*

A small noise that sounded suspiciously like an excited “Eeep!” came from Jisung’s apartment, and you grinned, giggling again. Jisung was, to put it mildly, absolutely adorable. Hot, yes—far too hot for you to properly function around, if you were totally honest—but also sweet and lovely. He was bright as the sun, seeming to practically radiate joyful light. And if last night was anything to go by, Jisung was quickly going to become a fixture in your life.

All that week, you couldn’t wait to see Jisung again and in a proper, arranged setting rather than as he was climbing through your window. You’d texted, flirting and just telling each other about yourselves. You learned that he loved being outside, just sitting in the sun or doing things with Chan and Changbin. He learned from you that you wanted to travel and study languages that were in danger of dying out. You bonded over a shared love of curling up with a good book or music or show, some tea, and having the world leave you alone. So, the idea of just watching a movie with him, spending time together in a simple but specific environment, sounded perfect to you.

Although, you did hook up twice more when neither of you could stand not getting your hands on each other again. Jisung was a kind and thorough lover, his personality vibrant and unaffected, and you enjoyed coming together simply for the sake of feeling amazing; you’d even taken to thinking of him as sunshine. You quickly found that you were sleeping better, and thought it might be nice if this sort of thing continued.

On Saturday evening, you found yourself impatiently waiting for 7:30 pm instead of doing small chores and reading some of the chapters you’d been assigned for your Poetry of Emancipation and Civil Rights course. It was maddening, especially when you heard Jisung get home and all you could think about was his smile. At 7:29 pm, you made your way into your bathroom and opened the little door in the wall. Jisung’s recent passage through the space within had cleared any cobwebs, but still there wasn’t much light. Whoever had split the old house into apartments had added this through-space for, presumably, plumbers to access the fixtures more easily, or maybe it was simply an anomaly in the construction. Either way, you now had a fascinating, new way to visit your neigh- your boyf- to visit Jisung.

Damn it, I can’t believe I’m doing this, you laughed at yourself and knelt to make your way into Jisung’s apartment. Before you could start, though, the door at the other end of the crawlspace opened and Jisung appeared.

“Hold on!” he said, and opened the door wider so that as much light as possible would shine through. Gratefully, you quickly made your way toward him—it really wasn’t a long space, only five steps crawling, but it was such an odd thing to do that you couldn’t help feel that it was much longer. When your head was out of the little passageway, you looked up to see a very strange look on Jisung’s face. It was the kind of expression one makes when something filthy is rocketing through one’s mind and it’s impolite to share those thoughts. Belatedly, you realized the position you were in and ducked your head.

When you’d fully emerged from the crawlspace, Jisung stood back and you clambered to your feet, brushing off your knees.

“Hey, babe,” Jisung said, winking.

“Hey!” You stood on tiptoe to brush your lips against his. “So, this is your bathroom.” Looking around, you noticed just how clean the room was—it wasn’t at all strange to appear there, with no odd smells, garish decor or anything out of place.

“Yep, this is my bathroom. Come see everything else—it’s much more interesting!” Jisung said, and hesitantly took your hand to lead you out into the rest of his apartment. Unsurprisingly, it had the same layout as yours, only mirrored.

When you got to the living room, you stared. Jisung had an electric keyboard, a guitar, a small desk, and a computer set up in one corner, clearly his space for practicing and composing. He’d gone for comfort more than anything else, with a sofa that had clearly been well-loved and a few beanbag-like nests. The light curtains would clearly let in plenty of sunlight during the day, and you noticed, with interest, the pile of blankets on one end of the sofa. The coffee table had gaming consoles and books scattered across its top, and a tall bookcase full of novels and music books, as well as sheet music, stood against the wall by the instruments.

The space was so different from your own, but it was the homiest living room you’d ever been in. You resisted the urge to flop down onto the sofa until you remembered that Jisung had been coming through your window . . . so you casually taking over his sofa would be a non-issue. He grinned when you sighed contentedly at the plushness of the cushions.

“You like it?” Jisung asked.

“Ji, I love it! The whole room’s so cozy and warm,” you said appreciatively, taking in every detail. Jisung just let you enjoy the room’s atmosphere, since he’d worked quite hard to make it so inviting and wanted you to appreciate it.

“Want some tea? I have, um, a lot,” Jisung grinned, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

You nearly leapt off the couch and followed Jisung into the other room. “Oh my god, yes please!”

Jisung’s kitchen looked almost exactly the same as yours, except he didn’t have galaxy-themed tea towels. And, it was obvious to you that Jisung had his friends over more often than not, since two stools were stacked in the corner.

“Um,” Jisung prompted, “what kind would you like?” He pointed to a shelf with what had to be twenty boxes of different kinds of tea on it—to you, it looked like heaven. Seeing your awestruck look, Jisung added, “Take your time. I’ll just put the kettle on.”

After putting the water on to boil, Jisung came to stand behind you and, taking a deep breath as if to plunge into ice water, rested his chin on your shoulder. Without thinking, you leaned your head against his as if you’d been doing this together for years, rather than days. It was so easy to be with Jisung—everything just felt right. Thinking it was now or never, Jisung wrapped his arms around your waist and you leaned into him, still deciding what kind of tea you’d like.

“Guess what . . .” Jisung said.

“Hmmm?” you said distractedly.

“You’re beautiful,” Jisung murmured, breathing shallowly because he still couldn’t believe you were just casually in his arms. How had he gotten this lucky?

“And you’re handsome,” you replied.

Jisung was most certainly smiling as he said, “Want to split a pot of jasmine?” You nodded and jumped as the kettle’s shrilling pierced your ears—you hadn’t realized you were standing there with Jisung, just looking at tea, for that long. Jisung kissed your cheek, making you squeal internally, and went to make the tea.

Five minutes later, the two of you were back in the living room and Jisung was setting up the movie. You sat with your feet up under you, holding your tea to your chest. The warmth felt lovely. Once Jisung had gotten his DVD player set up and the beginning credits of the movie had started, he came to sit next to you. As he leaned back with his tea in one hand, he yawned and theatrically put his other arm around your shoulders.

You giggled. “Jisung, you don’t need to feel nervous about us cuddling or anything,” you reassured him. “It’s not like I haven’t touched you. We’ve had sex, for god’s sake. Multiple times.”

“I just- I wanted to go slowly since simple, casual intimacy is different. Or, at least that’s how I think of it. Just because we had sex doesn’t mean we’re going to be absolutely compatible right off the bat.” Jisung’s touch on your shoulder was light, as if he didn’t want to startle you.

“Ji,” you said, snuggling into his side, “you’ve got nothing to worry about. I feel more comfortable around you than some of the people I’ve known for three years.”

Jisung made a noise of disbelief. “What? Really?”

“Yeah,” you hummed, and threw a leg over Jisung’s thigh. His breath hitched a little before he pulled you closer to himself, the two of you settling into a comfortable configuration of limbs. The movie was one you’d only heard of in passing, and hadn’t expected to like—but Jisung’s explanation of why he liked it made you actually enjoy it.

Two-thirds of the way through the film, Jisung’s hand gently caressing your shoulder became too much of a distraction and all you wanted to do was kiss him again. You’d long ago finished your tea, and now contented yourself with gazing at him, taking in the smooth line of his jaw, the curve of his ear, the depression where his collarbone met the slope of his shoulder.

“I can feel you staring, Y/N,” Jisung said after a while, jolting you out of your daze. He paused the movie.

“Well, you’re kinda hot,” you countered.

“Yeah? How hot?” Jisung smirked, angling himself toward you.

“Very, very hot,” you whispered, craning your neck for a kiss. Jisung obliged, smiling.

Unlike your kisses the night before, this was slow and calm, like honey settling on ripe peaches. You slid forward to sit more squarely in Jisung’s lap as he tangled his fingers in your hair, the slight pull on your head feeling delicious. Each brush of his lips was soft and warm, and both of you took your time as you fell into the kisses, learning how gentle yet passionate the other could be. You moved your hands along his shoulders and chest, then up to cup his face, holding him like a priceless piece of art. Jisung hummed against your mouth, and drew you closer. Long minutes passed as you kissed, enjoying the simplicity of the connection, until you felt what seemed like a small fire ignite inside you.

Sensing your mood, as it reflected his own, Jisung said, “We’re not doing this on the couch again, Y/N. I have a bed, you know.”

You laughed—you couldn’t help yourself. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t expected things to go this way—after all, you’d worn some especially pretty lingerie—but the way Jisung had phrased it . . . he was almost pouting.

You pecked Jisung’s nose and said, “Lead on.”

Jisung didn’t bother asking you to get up or shift position—he just hooked an arm behind your knees and held the other at your back, and stood up. It was rather impressive, to say the least. He carried you to the bedroom, both of you giggling at the fact that you were really doing this, until you got to his room. Just like the rest of his apartment, it was cozy; there was no other word for it, especially with the soft faerie lights strung above the bed. You idly wondered if he always had them up or had just put them up in hopes the two of you would make it into his bedroom.

He sat down on the bed with you still in his arms, and resumed kissing you as if he hadn’t just carried you to an entirely different room. After a moment, you swiveled on Jisung’s lap so you were straddling his hips and wrapped your legs around him—his hands immediately went under your shirt, as if he’d been waiting to do just that.

“You really want to feel me up, don’t you,” you said, brows arched but smiling.

“Can you blame me?” Jisung’s voice was husky with desire. You just shook your head and pulled your shirt off, which made Jisung’s eyes widen. The lingerie was clearly doing its job. “Now who’s the hot one?” he asked, and ran his hands up and down your back as he continued kissing along your jaw and cheeks. His fingers finally stopped at the clasp of your bra and you breathed a “Yes.”

After a moment, Jisung leaned his head against your shoulder. “Y/N, um, it’s been a bit since I last did this…” His voice was so small and embarrassed.

“Aw babe, I’ve got it,” you said, stroking his hair. Jisung leaned back on his hands, watching you as you reached around yourself to unhook the clasp. You shrugged out of your bra and let it fall to the floor.

“You are so gorgeous, Y/N, you really are,” Jisung said, his voice low in awe.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks—you’d rarely, if ever, been admired like this, just bare before someone. “I- Um, I’m not sure what to say? Thanks?”

Jisung chuckled, saying, “You deserve every compliment I can give you,” and brought his hands back to your body. You were still as he trailed his fingertips up your stomach to cup the soft curves of your breasts, then brushed his thumbs over their peaks. You let out a shaky breath as Jisung began to kiss down your throat, over your sternum, and over each of the love bites he’d given you earlier in the week. He made certain to carefully add two more. You tangled your hands in his hair and sighed softly as he sucked, nibbled, and massaged, causing a tingling sensation to go straight to your core.

Jisung lifted his head briefly and, trailing a finger along his jaw, you said, “Your turn.” His shirt was off in one fluid movement and, again, you couldn’t believe you were actually with someone that beautiful.

“And you were saying I’m gorgeous? Jisung, oh babe, you should see yourself through my eyes.”

Jisung brushed his hair out of his face, looking intently up at you. “I can see myself in your eyes,” he said. “That’s enough for me.”

You smiled as you gently pushed Jisung back onto the bed, but before you could lay yourself down on top of him, he said, “Let me take off my jeans off first—it’ll be easier, you know?”

You chuckled and decided to do the same—he was right, after all. You sat on the bed next to Jisung as he did some fascinating acrobatics to divest himself of his pants and pull the sheets down at the same time. Laying there in just his underwear, Jisung’s desire was painfully evident and you unknowingly licked your lips; however, this did not go unnoticed by Jisung, who grinned. He scooted back onto the bed so his legs weren't hanging off the side and lay back on his pillows, holding his arms out to you.

“Shall we?” he said with an exaggeratedly coy expression.

You crawled on top of him, feeling him hard beneath you, and leaned down to kiss him deeply, your breasts just grazing his chest. Your own desire roared through you like floodwaters surging along a river toward a dam, and you ground your core against him, seeking the one thing that would break that dam apart. Jisung moaned into your mouth, holding your hips so firmly his hands dug into your muscles. And in moments, you were both breathing hard.

Flashing a grin at Jisung as you broke from your kiss, you slid down his chest. You began at his throat, too, leaving kisses and hickeys all over him, eliciting soft moans from his lips. When you got to the waistband of his underpants, you looked up the hard planes of his stomach and chest to his face. “May I?”

“God, please, Y/N,” Jisung all but begged.

You deftly pulled his last remaining clothes down and off, admiring what was now revealed before you. Tracing the length and girth with your fingers, you placed a kiss right on the tip and Jisung hissed softly at the contact. You efficiently pumped your hand back and forth, feeling as if you were an earth goddess urging a seedling to grow, until he stood tall and proud as an oak. Slowly, you brought your lips to him, swirling your tongue a little, then bobbed your head up and down, occasionally letting your teeth graze his sensitive skin. A slightly salty taste that was still distinctly his own began to fill your mouth, and he twitched a little. And oh, Jisung’s moans—they were loud and needy, just a little breathy, and like music to your ears. He encouraged you, praising and saying how good it felt; at his words, you took a moment to simply run your hand over him, kissing the same path your hand took. Then, returning your mouth to its task, you quickened your pace and your throat soon felt raw. After a moment, you simply sucked the tip, flicking your tongue out, until Jisung’s gasps and cries were louder than ever.

“I’m so close, Y/N . . . Just like th- Aaaah! Fuck!” Jisung’s hips bucked, surprising you, but you continued, drawing as much pleasure from him as you could as you swallowed and swallowed. The sound of him coming undone made the ache between your legs intensify, and as Jisung came down from his high, panting, you crawled back up the bed next to him.

Jisung pulled you to him, and you knew he could taste himself on your mouth as you kissed again. His hands were quickly back on your hips, fiddling with the band of your panties. “I want to taste you,” he said between kisses.

“Taste all you want,” you purred as his hand strayed lower.

He gave you a silly grin and, inexplicably, said, “Thank you.” You giggled.

Jisung wasted no time in flinging your panties nearly to the other side of the room, then tracing whirls over your stomach, going lower and lower. When you thought you might as well just take matters into your own hands, literally, Jisung slid his hand between your legs and you moaned.

“Mmmm, perfect,” Jisung smiled as he kissed just below your ear.

He seemed to want to feel each and every part of you, slowly exploring with first one finger, and then a second. In moments, you were wriggling and arching yourself toward him as his fingers danced. When he found that little bundle of nerves, rubbing it over and over, your hips bucked involuntarily. Fast, then slow, he coaxed you to the edge. Then, nothing.

“Oh no you don’t, Han Jisung,” you said, panting. “You are not stopping now.”

“Who said I was stopping?” Jisung said as he positioned himself between your legs, holding your thighs apart. You could still feel the blood pulsing through your veins and the ache inside was nearly maddening. He kissed all the way up your inner thigh, teasing you, then did the same along the other leg. You thrust your hips into the air, seeking some sort of friction.

Jisung smiled indulgently, then brought his mouth to you. His lips and tongue on your most sensitive parts felt so good you could barely think. Your moans were even louder than his had been, and you were glad that the neighbors typically went out on weekend nights. Jisung sucked that bundle of nerves like it was a hard candy and lapped at you like a kitten, clearly having the time of his life, before adding his fingers again. The combination had you begging for release, and all you could think was that this must be what it was like to be carried along a storm-swollen river to the edge of a waterfall.

“Oh, hhhhh, oh shit. Ji- Jisung, oh my god, hhhhh, oh god, fuck. Right there, oh f- Aaaah!”

Jisung crooked his fingers as he sucked, sending you hurtling out over that waterfall. Gasping and moaning, you shuddered, the coil of tension below your navel releasing. When he finally sat up, Jisung slowly licked each his fingers.

As you caught your breath, relishing the feeling of release, Jisung quickly went to his bedside table and you turned your head to see him sliding a condom on. He glanced at you, realizing he’d just assumed that you were okay with continuing.

“Jisung, just get back on the bed,” you said, forestalling his question, and Jisung did so, kneeling between your legs with an expectant look on his face.

“Well?” you said, looking up at him.

“I was just admiring you,” he said, and leaned forward to kiss you sweetly. Then, he straddled your hips and prepared himself before saying, “Ready?”

“Definitely,” you replied, an almost gleeful look in your eye.

You joined together little by little, Jisung letting you adjust, until he could go no further. You moaned at the feeling of such intimacy, the bright clarity of it—you felt like you were being filled with sunshine. “Ji, move,” you gasped, and he did.

Holding himself above you as you hooked your ankles behind his legs, Jisung began slowly, making you feel every bit of him. Then, the two of you moved as one, faster and harder, his hips finally snapping with as much power as he could muster.

Jisung buried his face in your neck as you urged him on. “Come on, Ji, right there. Oh, yes! Ah, that’s it. That feels so good, just like that.” You ran your hands all over his back, biting down on his shoulder as he finally hit the one spot inside that would surely bring your pleasure crashing down upon you again. Your nerves still singing from just moments before, you suddenly felt that coil inside you release as you clenched and unclenched, screaming Jisung’s name over and over.

“I still- I need—” Jisung gasped against your neck.

“Keep going,” you crooned, and held him to you as he chased his high, seeming to plunge deeper with each movement. A few moments later, Jisung’s hips shook and you felt him pulse as he dashed himself against the rocks at the foot of that waterfall of bliss. He shuddered, too, and lay against you, panting. You kissed his neck, his cheek, and his mouth as you both relaxed into each other’s arms.

After taking care of the condom, Jisung joined you back on the bed and you curled against him, still flushed with exertion. “That was—”

“Amazing,” you finished, turning to kiss him again. Jisung’s arm went around your shoulders and his other hand held your hip. You undulated your body against him gently, more for the slow, mellow comfort from the feel of his skin against yours than anything else.

“We should take a shower,” he said after a few more sweet kisses.

“Mmmm, that sounds perfect,” you agreed. “Can we just lay here for a moment, though?”

After several minutes, you suspected Jisung might fall asleep, so you gently kissed along his chest and said, “What about that shower?”

He chuckled and sat up with a groan. “Yeah, I know. I’ll go start the water.”

Once you’d showered together and lingered under the hot water, you lay side-by-side on Jisung’s bed, just tracing patterns into each other’s skin and occasionally kissing.

“I could get used to this, you know,” he said after you’d lain there for several minutes.

“Yeah? You mean us . . . just casually having sex? Or do you mean, like, dating?” you said, honestly not minding either way.

“I- Both, I guess?” Jisung paused. “But also just spending time with you, and being able to cuddle or do whatever when we need it. Casual comfort and companionship, and yeah, sex—keeping things open, you know?”

You looked up at him, thinking you understood now. “Do you mean having an open relationship?”

Jisung nodded. “Yeah, like we’re pretty much together but see other people but things are just kind of casual!”

You laughed lightly, glad that you were on the same page. “That’s exactly what I was thinking, actually,” you said. “I’m not really fussed about keeping things only between us—you know I’m polyamorous. I just feel like I’ve got a lot of love to give and that, while I am over the moon with happiness with you—”

“You are?” Jisung interrupted, turning his big doe eyes on you.

“Yes, Ji, of course,” you said, and continued. “But yeah, I just— I feel like I want to give as many people the affection and support they need, and to get all different kinds from them, as well as you. Just keeping things casual sounds perfect to me.”

Jisung rolled over onto his back, leaving you to rest your chin on his chest. He mindlessly stroked your hair. “Mmmm,” he sighed contentedly, “you know, I don’t mind if you don’t tell me who else you’re seeing, by the way. Not unless it gets serious and you’d like to actually date them, too. Then, it would be nice to know and meet them.”

“Oh my god, of course!” you exclaimed, your head jerking up sharply. “I wouldn’t hide something like that! I mean, if you’d like to share who we see super casually, I’m fine with that, too.”

“I trust you,” was all Jisung said.

“And I trust you,” you replied, kissing his chest above his heart. Suddenly, you were nearly practically overwhelmed by the tenderness you felt for Jisung, and shimmied your way onto his chest more solidly.

“Come here, angel,” he murmured, and pulled you fully on top of his body. Your bodies touching so completely made you feel like you were laying on a cloud. Smiling softly to yourself, you tucked your head under Jisung’s chin, listening to his heartbeat as his arms went around you. You thought the best sleep you’d had was the other nights that week, but they could never compare to falling asleep with Jisung.

↠↞

Strolling toward you down the long walkway that wound through campus, looking like a cat who’d just been in the cream, came a young man with an all-too-familiar face: Bang Chan. He looked like the cold, December air didn’t bother him at all. You sighed, hoping he wouldn’t notice you, and looked down at what were, in the summer, lovely gardens lining the path. It really was cold as hell and all you wanted to do was get home before dark when it would even colder.

“Y/N?”

Oh, no.

“Hey, Y/N! Yeah, I thought it was you!” he called from, in your opinion, too far away. The people around you turned to look and you mentally cringed—you didn’t like drawing attention from large crowds.

“Hi, Chan,” you said, trying to plaster a smile onto your face.

“How’s the most beautiful woman on campus?” Chan said, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “Doing well? Staying warm?”

“I’m fine, Chan. And you?” You knew how you were talking was stilted and the words almost meaningless.

“A little busy, but great!” Chan responded blithely, falling into step with you. “How’s Jisung holding up? Is he still cooped up in his apartment? I think he said he was composing?”

“Oh, u-huh,” you said a little guiltily. You didn’t want to tell him that Jisung had, in fact, been in your apartment and in varying stages of undress, not composing at all hours. “I haven’t seen him much, actually, so I guess he has been composing. I think I heard him messing around on the guitar the other day.”

“Sometimes he gets like this,” Chan lamented, clearly playing for sympathy from you—sympathy he wouldn’t be getting because you, honestly, didn’t care much. Your time with Jisung was too good not to covet.

“I guess once he’s done whatever he’s working on you’ll see him more?” You wanted this conversation to be over—you were cold, there was a breeze, and it was Chan, of all people.

“I might just go over there and bug him, honestly.” Chan was thoughtful, and you had to stop yourself from vehemently dissuading him from stepping foot anywhere near your apartment. You’d have to mention to Jisung that Chan was probably stopping over and would expect to see some sort of headway on a composition, if that, indeed, was the excuse he’d been telling his friends to explain his occasional absences from their lives recently.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’d be happy to see you, since you’re so close,” you reassured him, smiling uncomfortably. Chan still took no notice, happily looking around at all the other students passing by as you walked.

“He’s such an introvert, I’ve no idea if he’ll want to see me,” Chan laughed and stopped to let a group of freshman girls by, but didn’t resume walking once they’d passed. “But maybe I can come see you instead?” he said with a wink, and hope in his voice.

You began to stammer out a response, not even caring what you said as long as it amounted to “Hell no.” You pulled out your phone to, supposedly, check a message.

“Oh, sorry Chan. I have to go,” you lied. “A friend just texted saying she needs my help with something. I guess I’ll see you around.”

And with that, you made a speedy exit, Chan staring after you a little sadly. Why did his nerves have to get the best of him like that? He ended up coming off as mildly creepy instead of his normal, kind self. He’d have to work on that, since you clearly wanted nothing to do with him. Chan sighed, rubbing his brow, then headed toward the Performing Arts building and the privacy of the studio he shared with Jisung and Changbin. Maybe he’d be able to put what he felt into a song or something.

That night before bed, you messaged Jisung to tell him that Chan would probably be over that week.

y/n: ji, did you tell chan you were composing this week and that’s why you haven’t been with him and changbin? sunshine: ….maybe….why? y/n: well, chan found me today and asked me how your composition(s?) were going since i’m your neighbor. and i had to do some pretty fast talking there, han jisung >:| sunshine: shit…sorry y/n!! :(( sunshine: welp;;; i guess i’ll have to get going on that, then y/n: yaaaay good idea! also, why does chan insist on flirting so outrageously with me every single god damn time i see him? sunshine: oh. he’s been like that for awhile;; it’s a coping mechanism for when he’s nervous and he’s not always trying to actually flirt. although, with you he might be?? sunshine: please don’t hold it against him. he’s a good guy and i’d hate for you to dislike him y/n: oooooh okay okay that makes so much more sense now. i was getting kind of uncomfortable there for a minute. thank you for explaining that, babe. i understand him a lot better now and i promise i’ll try to get to actually know him!! sunshine: you’re not required to be friends with my friends, but thanks y/n: i know, but i still want to make the effort!! sunshine: you’re the best :D y/n: oh! um do you maybe need me to come over to be your ~muse~? sunshine: you already have been <3 y/n: if you don’t stop being adorable, i’m gonna come over there and kiss you sunshine: yeah? you’re gonna do that? hmmm? y/n: don’t test me…. i WILL come over and kiss you sweetly and tuck you into bed sunshine: i read that as “fuck you into bed.” OOOPS y/n: alkfhgakldjfgh y/n: just go compose, ji!!! i’ll come over tomorrow, if chan’s not there sunshine: your wish is my command, angel~ sunshine: make sure to get some sleep y/n: don’t stay up too late tho babe;;;; sunshine: i won’t, don’t worry y/n: okay hhhh goodnight, ji *kiss* sunshine: sweet dreams, angel *kiss*

As you fell asleep, you thought you could hear the faint strains of the guitar and Jisung’s voice floating over from the other apartment. Idly, you wondered if he was recording any of his ideas.

↠↞

On Wednesday afternoon, you got a text from Jisung inviting you to an ugly sweater party that would be hosted by one of his casual friends that weekend. And while you weren’t sure if any of your sweaters counted as ugly, you figured you should still have a fun night out. And because where Jisung was, Chan and Changbin wouldn’t be far behind, you knew they’d be there, too. You suggested that the two of you go together, especially since the house was only a couple blocks away from where you lived. So, at 8:17 pm on Friday, you bundled yourself into your coat and headed out the door.

“Y/N!”

You turned around to see Jisung striding toward you across the snowy lawn.

“Hi,” he said, drawing out the syllable as he gave you an enthusiastic hug and kissed your cheek.

“Jisung,” you said, stepping back, “where exactly is your coat? You do know it’s the middle of December, right?”

“I left it inside.” He grinned when you glared. “Eh, one of us has to be a little bit dumb sometimes.”

This earned him a gentle nudge in the shin from your foot, but you were both smiling as you set off toward the party.

As you approached the house, Jisung kissed your hand. “I, um, haven't told Chan and Changbin that we’ve been seeing each other.” At your surprised look, he shrugged. “I’ll see you later tonight, angel,” he said, then darted up the stairs with a wink thrown over his shoulder. You shook your head—sometimes, Jisung was a little odd.

When you stepped through the front door, it was obvious that the party had already been going for at least an hour. People crowded the living room, the kitchen, the hallway, and some were even on the stairs. Fairly mellow music played in the background, and when you looked toward one end of the living in which a table was set up between two speakers, you saw none other than Chan. You couldn’t say you were surprised.

Squirming between the people lounging against the kitchen’s doorframe, you finally made it in and went to where drinks had been laid out on the counter. You grabbed a fresh cup for yourself, pouring some hard cider out of a fresh can, and then, rejoined the main part of the party. Not exactly wanting to talk to a lot of people you didn’t know, you found a window with a deep enough sill that you could sit in it. For almost a half hour, you watched the partygoers and slowly sipped on your cider.

Occasionally, you’d look over at Chan behind his computer, portable mixing board, and more wires and cables than you knew could exist. Now that you knew he wasn’t actively trying to be unnecessarily flirtatious, you could see yourself getting to know him. After all, he was Jisung’s friend and well known around campus—people were too focused on holding others to high moral standards, despite lowering their own, not to watch someone like Chan like hawks. You would’ve heard if he wasn’t a great person, and you knew Jisung wouldn’t be friends with a jerk.

In the low lighting of the living room, the lines of Chan’s cheekbones stood out as he bowed his head in concentration to find just the right level of bass to thrum through your bones beneath the soft strains of melody. You found yourself completely enthralled; that is, until Jisung eclipsed your view as he flitted from group to group like a hummingbird. And just when you thought you should probably socialize, two women who wore matching, utterly horrible sweaters chose to stand nearby. Since their sweaters were so atrocious, you thought their conversation might be interesting.

“3racha?” one of them asked in response to a question you hadn’t heard.

“Yeah, I really thought they’d be here, but I haven’t seen them,” the second woman whined.

“Maybe they’re busy?” the first one suggested.

“Or, ladies,” a pleasantly husky voice said, coming up behind them, “you could open your eyes and realize that Chan’s behind the table tonight. You’re listening to one of our new songs.” The two 3racha fans gaped at him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to talk to the person in the window here.” He slid past them. “Thanks.”

You looked up from your drink into the handsome face of Changbin, who was wearing a black sweater with…

“Pink, sparkly cats? You?” you said, not believing your eyes.

“Hey, I like cats,” Changbin protested. “And who cares if they’re pink and sparkly? They have cute little noses—see?” He moved closer to you, pointing to the cats.

“Yes, very cute little noses,” you laughed and took a sip of your cider. “So, what’s up, Changbin?”

“Eh, not much. I finished my exams early—thank god. You?”

“I’ve been really good, actually,” you said brightly. “You’re lucky—I still have all of mine next week.”

“Good luck! I’m sure you’ll do great,” Changbin beamed at you. “Hey, it’s pretty stuffy in here—want to go out on the porch for some fresh air?”

You nodded and stood to follow him.

A couple heads turned, probably those people who recognized Changbin and thought of him as a local celebrity or something, as you slipped by along the wall leading to the back door. Changbin held the door open for you and you inhaled the cold night air, welcome after the heat inside from so many bodies pressed together.

Changbin sighed gratefully next to you, sitting down on the top step and patting the spot next to him. “Join me?”

You sat, surprised that you could feel the warmth radiating from Changbin even sitting a foot away. Together, you stared out over the lawn where the footprints of those who lived in the house crossed each other to form unintentionally intricate patterns.

“Y/N?” Changbin said hesitantly after a few minutes. “Would you be interested in listening to the demo of a song I’ve been working on?” Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. “I know you’re not a music major,” he continued, “but that’s exactly why I’m asking this. I could use some fresh ears on it.”

You were flattered that Changbin had asked you, but . . . “Why me?” you asked. “I’m sure there are plenty of other people you know far better than me. Not to sound rude, but we’ve only met maybe three times.”

“Like I said, that’s exactly it,” Changbin insisted, taking out his phone. “You don’t know my—3racha’s—music. So, you’re the perfect person to give an unbiased and new opinion!”

“Well, when you put it like that . . .” you mused, and scooted just a little closer to Changbin. You could have sworn he blushed.

After a moment of fiddling with his phone, he said, “Here. Sorry I don’t have headphones or a speaker or something with me.”

“It’s okay, I’m sure I’ll be able to hear just fine.” You leaned forward as Changbin, grimacing at the first bars of the demo, held up his phone between you; then, you just concentrated on the music.

Meanwhile, Changbin felt like he was about to run and hide. You were mere inches from him, hair swinging down into your face as you listened intently. It was as if time had stopped completely, and you and he were the only people on Earth. He desperately tried not to stare as your mouth, lips parted slightly, quirked up in a smile at the lyrics. And if he noticed how your sweater hugged your body in just the right places, and how he’d like to be hugging those places, too, he promptly shoved those thoughts to the back of his mind. As you seemed more and more entranced by the music, his music, Changbin had the wild urge to lean forward and ki—

“Changbin, this is incredible!” you said as the song ended, your eyes gleaming in the light of the porch light as you turned to him. Suddenly, you realized just how close you were to Changbin—it would be so easy to just lean your head on his shoulder. You mentally shook yourself. “I had no idea you guys were producing music like this. And this is just a demo?”

Still reeling from being utterly stunned by your beauty, Changbin started. “I— Yeah, it’s just the demo. That last song that was playing inside was actually one of ours. Chan just slips them into whatever mix he’s DJ-ing at events.”

You beamed, impressed and excited. “So, I honestly can’t think of anything I’d want to change about that song, other than . . . maybe even out the lead up to the chorus? Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Changbin reassured you, and slipped his phone back into his pocket. “Hey, how about you come by the studio one day? I’d be able to make the edits with you there, and I think I might have another song you could help with.” At your surprised look, Changbin added, “But only if you want to. I don’t mean to pressure you, sorry.”

“I’d love to,” you said simply, and meant it. You looked down at your lap. “I don’t know much about composition, but I think it would fun to learn. Plus, if Jisung likes you and Chan, then you must be cool. And talented!”

Changbin gave you a searching look and you said quickly, “I mean, we’re neighbors and all, so we talk or see each other randomly and he always mentions you!”

“Ah, okay. Well, I’d like to live up to your expectations,” Changbin said self-consciously. He stood abruptly and you did as well, fiddling with your cider cup.

“Changbin?” you said before he could take another step toward the door, and he froze like you'd captured him in one of the ice sickles that hung from the roof. “How- how should I get in touch with you?” And just as you said it, you remembered the little slip of paper that was left on your coffee table that first time you’d met 3racha. Oh.

“I thought I gave you my number already,” Changbin chuckled, looking like one of the cats on his sweater that had just gotten into the cream.

You took a breath. “Right. Yeah, I remember now.”

“Just text me when you’re free and we can figure out when you want to come by to listen to more music.” Changbin stuffed his hands into his pockets, giving you a small smile.

“Oh, okay,” you agreed. “I guess I’ll text you tomorrow!”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Changbin said lightly, and winked before turning to open the door. “Come on, you look half frozen,” he said, his voice soft with not a trace of mockery in it.

You were cold and as you walked through the door back into the warmth, you tried to ignore the feeling of being pulled toward Changbin like you were two halves of a magnet. It was a new feeling, being drawn to someone so forcefully, and you were more than intrigued.

↠↞

When you got home from the party, you gratefully sagged onto your couch, glad to be away from all those people. After just sitting for long minutes, you got up and changed into your wonderfully soft and plush robe—it was one of the things you’d bought for yourself just because you could, just so you could have something nice. Then, you made tea and curled on the couch again; you’d only had the one drink that didn’t even have much alcohol in it, but you were still tired from being around that many people. So, you just sat and enjoyed your tea, letting your thoughts wonder.

“Y/N?” Jisung’s voice came down the hall into your living room, since he’d slipped through via the bathroom. He saw you curled on the couch in your robe with your mug of tea, and paused before entering the room. The simple domesticity of the tableau was so sweet that it stirred his desire to, someday, have a lovely home with the one he loved where things would be happy and calm. And right then and there, Jisung knew that he was definitely developing feelings for you. “Hey, you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before sitting next to you.

“Hey,” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“You didn’t stay too long—did you at least have an okay time tonight?” Jisung asked.

“Yeah, it’s always fun to see people in horrible sweaters,” you chucked. You proffered your tea to him. “Want some?”

Jisung took the mug and sipped delicately from it, sighing as the tea warmed his insides. “So, what do you want to do? Watch a movie like we said?”

“Mmmm,” you thought for a moment, cupping the back of Jisung’s neck and running your fingers through his hair. “How about we watch a couple episodes of that show I was telling you about, then take a bath together. I could really use the relaxing heat from the water.”

“Oh, that sounds perfect, angel,” Jisung sighed. “Can I grab your computer so we can watch, then?” He stood and looked around for the device. “Where’d you hide it this time?”

“Sorry,” you said, smiling ruefully. “It’s on the floor in my bedroom.”

Jisung retrieved your computer and set it on the coffee table in front of you, gently massaging your back as he waited for you to sign in and pull up the video streaming site. The only light in the room came from a small lamp you had in the corner, which cast a warm glow over everything. Jisung leaned into the nook where the couch’s back and arm met and you snuggled in beside and on him as he pulled you against his chest. He was warm and soft, and you felt entirely at ease—more at home with him than you’d felt with anyone else. As the second episode began, Jisung began lazily tracing circles up and down your arm, occasionally passing over your cheeks. Once or twice, he ran a finger along your lips, making them tingle. It was more than a little distracting and it wasn’t long before you felt a faint tingle of desire. Jisung’s body, which had been so relaxed before, was now filled with a low-level energy that made him feel like his blood was vibrating.

You twisted round to look up at him, a questioning look in your eyes, and he leaned forward to pause the show before capturing your lips with his. You smiled against his mouth and Jisung hoisted you further up onto his lap so you were almost sitting sideways. His tongue darted out to swipe along the crease of your mouth, and you gladly let him in, your tongues sliding by each other as you pressed yourself closer to Jisung. His hand on your waist began to travel upward as he kissed down your neck and along your shoulder, and you sighed at the warmth of his skin.

“You’re not wearing anything under that robe, are you?” Jisung said, pulling back and giving you a mischievous look.

“Nope!” you chirped innocently, and kissed his nose. Jisung’s eyes darkened as his pupils blew wide with desire.

“Oh, angel,” Jisung growled faintly as he ran his hand down your stomach to between your legs. As you continued to kiss, he chuckled faintly and pulled aside the folds of your robe to slide his hand up your inner thigh. His slow teasing soon had you moaning and wriggling, and it was obvious that he simply wanted to enjoy touching you, making you squirm just that little bit. But, he never brought you close to release—that wasn’t the point.

When you’d had enough of his teasing, you murmured, “Ji, let’s take the bath.” You had to concentrate to keep speaking as he moved his fingers in a particularly satisfying way. “The water will feel amazing and we’ll be relaxed,” you said, adjusting your position on his lap. Jisung groaned, and let you rise before following you out of the room.

While the tub filled higher and higher, you let your robe drop to the floor, and your body reacted to the cold air coming through the ever-open window. Jisung, his clothes already thrown in a heap in the corner, stared at you like you were Aphrodite herself. Ignoring the various thoughts swirling around in his head, Jisung stepped into the tub and was surprised at how hot it was, but sank down into the water nonetheless. “Come on, angel,” he said, patting his lap and making small waves in the water. “I’ve got a comfy seat here just for you.” He winked.

Grinning, you stepped in after him and the water splashed a little as you sat down, making both of you giggle. You talked about your week and how classes were going, always skirting around the topic of exams. It wasn’t long before you’d completely exhausted all college-related conversation; it simply wasn’t romantic. You lay back against Jisung, who slid lower into the water and put his hands on your hips. Your hands went automatically over his, and the two of you simply reveled in the warmth of the water and the feeling of being skin-to-skin.

Before long, the slight pressure against your low back became more insistent, until you turned to Jisung and said, “How about I keep you nice and warm, babe.”

“Sounds lovely.” Jisung murmured against your hair and carefully guided your hips down onto his waiting member. You groaned as he filled you up, the ache you hadn’t even known you’d felt all day suddenly satisfied.

“Oh god, yes,” you breathed and leaned your head back, exposing your neck for Jisung to kiss and nibble.

You gently wiggled your hips and settled, simply enjoying the sensation of being full. The hot water swirling around you felt like velvet caressing your skin. Turning slightly with your head still on his shoulder, you found Jisung’s mouth with yours and your kisses were as lazy and languid as the warm sunlight of a summer morning. You occasionally rocked your hips against Jisung’s gently, feeling him deep inside. And when you teased him like that, he would simply press himself further against you and you’d moan, kissing him harder.

Nothing was rushed or intense—just the feelings of warmth and being together, connected. You reveled in the pure sensations, relaxing into Jisung’s hold more every second. He had one hand on your hip, gently massaging the muscle there, and the other roving over your body, depending on his whims. Your fingers tangled in his hair, carding through it as you kissed. All of your attention was focused on Jisung—your point of connection with him, his hands on you, his soft mouth—and you filled his world, too, blotting out all else like a solar eclipse.

↠↞

“Bin, you said we’d meet Jisung here. Where is he? Isn’t he supposed to be at home?” Chan said, clearly having to concentrate on enunciating his words more carefully than usual. He and Changbin were standing on the front step of Jisung’s apartment, waiting impatiently for their best friend to open the door. It was cold.

“Dunno.” Changbin gestured expansively. “He said we should come over, right? There aren’t many places he’d go.” Then, Changbin blanched. “You don’t think he was kidnapped or something, do you?”

“Oh come on, you’re drunk,” Chan scoffed.

“You are, too!” Changbin retorted.

“Yeah, but at least I’m not hyplerbizing. . . No, hyperblazing. Shit.” Chan looked blankly down at the snow for a second, his friend being absolutely no help at all as he frantically texted Jisung. “Got it! Hyperbolizing. Yeah, at least I’m not hyperbolizing.”

“I’m not,” Changbin insisted. “I’m just being sensible. Jisung barely ever ducks out on stuff, so why now? He was at the party, for god’s sake. We saw him— What, two hours ago?”

Chan leaned on the doorframe and sighed. “Well, I guess there’s only one option, then.”

“Yeah?”

“We go through the window.” Changbin gave him a blank look. “You know,” Chan continued, “Y/N’s bathroom window! Jisung said he’s gone through there to get to his apartment, and maybe she’ll know where he is. They’ve gotta at least keep in touch if they’re neighbors.”

Changbin spluttered. He couldn’t believe Chan had just suggested that they, for lack of a better phrase, break into your apartment. But then again, maybe you did know where Jisung was—it was worth a try.

So, Chan and Changbin made their way around to the other side of the house, trying not to look suspicious, and found the window that was cracked slightly open. Soft light poured from it, lancing across the bare ground below. And, there was the conveniently placed log, now fallen on its side. It didn’t look like Jisung had come through this way for awhile.

“Chan, are you sure about this?” Changbin whispered.

“Well, you wanna go hang out with Jisung, yeah?”

“Fine, yes,” Changbin grumbled.

Chan hopped up onto the log and pulled himself up to peek in the window. He was completely still for a moment, then put his feet back down and, with an indiscernible look on his face, motioned to Changbin.

“What? Is it locked or something?” Changbin asked, confused. Chan just shook his head, not trusting himself to speak, and motioned for Changbin to take his spot on the log.

“Boost me up?” he said to Chan, who gave him a wild look, but held out his hands for Changbin to step on anyway.

When Changbin’s head rose above the window, he stared. You were laying there in the tub, naked and lithe as a cat. But you weren’t alone. Jisung, his best friend Han Jisung, was in the tub with you. And you were kissing, Jisung’s hands all over you. As he beheld your form, Changbin felt like he was about to burst apart into a thousand pieces. Unable to tear his eyes away, Changbin saw you undulate your hips against Jisung’s and heard you sigh wantonly. You were completely engrossed in each other, unaware of your silent audience.

You let out a loud moan and Changbin’s hands, cramped from the cold and clutching the windowsill, betrayed him so he nearly lost his grip. His feet scrabbled for purchase on the house’s siding. He tried to keep his breathing under control, but his mind was full of smooth skin, water, and the sound of your sighs. Fuck. We shouldn’t be here.

But just at that moment, Chan chose to actually boost him up toward the window and, because Changbin was shocked at seeing you naked in a bathtub with Jisung, he toppled forward.

↠↞

The feeling of almost unraveling but never quite tipping over the edge was absolutely delicious, and yet having nothing between you and Jisung was even better. Your eyes were closed, focusing on the sensations, rather than trying to see anything, and you gasped against every so often. Jisung gently bit down on your shoulder whenever you did.

You were resting your full weight back against Jisung’s chest, simply enjoying the feel of him touching you everywhere possible. Then, you felt Jisung twitch inside you as you ground against him, and he began to thrust up into you with more regularity. A particularly loud moan escaped your lips, the ache deep inside pulsing, just as you heard a scuffling sound from outside.

“Ji? What was that?” you asked, your eyes flying open.

“It’s probably just some raccoons,” Jisung said offhandedly.

“Hmmm,” was all you replied and closed your eyes again. You held onto his knees for support as Jisung’s pace increased, making little waves dance in the tub.

And then . . .

It seemed like all hell broke loose as a body crashed through the slightly open window. You shrieked in surprise and Jisung yelled, “What the fuck?” All sense of arousal gone, you froze before peeking above the rim of the bathtub.

You had a distinct sense of deja vu as, yet again, you saw a young man sprawled on your bathroom floor.

Shit.

Shit!!

Belatedly, you realized that you were, indeed, naked, and you were in the bath. With Jisung. And you were still sitting on his dick, which now seemed to have a mind and agenda of its own. Oh, and it was freezing now that the window was fully open, making you feel like someone had pulled the skin on your chest taut as a bowstring.

“Seo Changbin, what the actual fuck?!!” Jisung almost, almost, bellowed as he firmly held you in place on his lap, not wanting his friend to notice anymore than he already had.

“I—” Changbin stammered, but was cut off as Jisung yelled again, seeing another face at the window.

“Chan, too? What the hell?! I just— What the hell?” As much as he might have seemed angry, you could feel Jisung laughing silently as he took in the situation.

“Fuck,” was all Chan said as his gaze took you in, and you pulled your legs up in front of yourself in some, futile, attempt to hide your nakedness.

“Well?” Jisung demanded.

“We were looking for you, bro,” Changbin said from the floor. “We had plans!”

“And you said you climb through Y/N’s window all the time!” Chan added . . . helpfully.

“I told you I had something going on tonight.” Jisung sighed and grumbled, “But I guess you didn’t remember that.” Then, rolling his eyes Jisung said, “How much did you two drink, anyway?”

“Hey, don’t be like that, man,” Chan said, still peering through the window. “It wasn’t that much!”

“Bullshit,” you said, speaking for the first time.

“Okay, whatever. You’re right,” Changbin grumbled from the floor, looking a little ill.

“Both of you: Get. Out.” Jisung’s voice was firm, but he still couldn’t hide the amusement in his voice.

“Can’t we go through the little door?” Chan said hopefully.

“Y/N?” Changbin implored you, eyes wide.

“Fine. Just go through the damn door so you can get out of my fucking bathroom!” Your voice rose and you crossed your arms over your chest.

Once Chan had climbed through the window, catching a sleeve on the windowsill in the process, and Changbin had retrieved Jisung’s keys from his pants, the two of them squeezed through the passageway to Jisung’s apartment. You tried your best not to giggle at how much they looked like those same raccoons Jisung had mentioned earlier, practically falling over each other as they rushed to get out of the bathroom.

“I’ll be over at some point,” Jisung called after them. “Good riddance,” he said more quietly to you.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” you huffed out in a laugh.

“Yeah, I can’t either,” Jisung groaned. “But I’m not surprised. That’s those two in a nutshell, honestly.”

You leaned your head back against Jisung’s shoulder again and sighed. He was still inside you, and you were suddenly glad that you’d been facing forward when Chan and Changbin had appeared. Completely unable to resist Jisung’s soft skin, you nuzzled his jaw.

“Well, I guess that cat’s out of the bag,” you shrugged.

“They’ll never let me live it down,” Jisung replied, burying his face in your neck.

“Nope, they won’t!” you giggled and pecked Jisung’s cheek.

#inkidz #ultkpop #stayhavennet #0325net #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #bang chan #seo changbin #han jisung #3racha #.moonlight

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nuttyrabbit · 4 years ago

Text

Giovanni Conti Bio

“Nutty, are you only going to show up to post about Archie Sonic and your OCs?” Yes, yes I am

Anyways, I decided to throw together a quick bio for Gambit’s dad because hey I figured his stuff out and I’m doing shit with him now.

Shoutouts to @pidgeonspen for doing his design for me.

Anyways, as always, everything’s under the readmore

Name: Giovanni Conti (Real name Brando Romilla)

Age: Approximately 50 years old

Height: 3'4"

Occupation: Auto mechanic/Conman

Location: Unknown, last confirmed sighting in Westopolis. Originally born in Lugaio, Spagonia.

Sexuality: Bisexual, though greatly prefers women to the point of denying any male attraction

Personality: Giovanni's personality is what one would expect from a seasoned conman: charismatic, self-serving, and conniving, the weasel finds success in his trade thanks to his natural talent in dealing with others. To his victims, Giovanni appears to be a charming, compassionate, smooth-talking individual who seems to go out of his way to help others in their time of need. But of course it's all a farce, a way to con unsuspecting victims out of their hard-earned cash. In reality, the man formerly known as Brando Romilla is the exact opposite. A selfish, grumpy, and temperamental weasel "behind the scenes", Giovanni finds himself unwilling to engage with the world around him outside of whatever con he's cooked up or to get out of whatever mess he's gotten himself into this time.

Giovanni's most defining personality trait however, isn't his sardonic attitude or his smoothtalking ways, but instead his paranoia. Giovanni has spent the majority of his life on the run and it shows. He often finds himself looking over his shoulder both figuratively and quite literally, hoping that his latest victim hasn't found out about him or that the law or the mafia or whoever he's crossed hasn't tracked him down to enact their revenge. As such, Giovanni is extremely hesitant to give out his name unless absolutely necessary for the con, even going so far as to make up fake names in emergency situations, though the truth eventually comes out. In addition, he trusts absolutely nobody and almost always looks for a way to backstab/escape any sort of partnership he's found himself on the receiving end of, willing or otherwise.

All of this being said, it isn't *all* bad for Giovanni personality-wise, for when the weasel finds something he actually likes, one can see a softer, more eager side of him come out. Despite his professed hatred of his previous job, Giovanni has a rather deep appreciation for the intricacies of vehicles and vehicle repairs, even going so far as to sneak into antique car shows to gawk at the new vehicles and reminisce about the "good old days" before it "got so complicated" in terms of technology. Oddly enough, he also loves vinyl.

Skills: Giovanni is of course, an incredibly skilled con-man, imploying a variety of cons and scams to trick people out of their money, ranging from simple "tourist trap" tricks such as "no change", "toll booth", and "free gift", to more complicated ones such as "flat tire" schemes and even reselling stolen/counterfeit items at a significantly marked up price. His variety in terms of cons is helped by his ability to sell them thanks to his smooth-talking charismatic persona that he puts on during them. As a result of his occupation he's also extremely adept at pointing out other cons/knowing when he's being duped. Not only that, but he's even picked up some basic lockpicking/hotwiring and ID forging skills, though they aren't quite as honed as his other talents in the area.

Surprisingly enough, again despite his professed dislike of his childhood job, Giovanni is an incredibly skilled mechanic, being able to assess the issues with (mostly older) vehicles just from a few minutes of observation and testing alone and fixing it in record times. OF course he'll complain about how he's "too fuckin' old" for it, but he'll do a damn good job...and even enjoy himself somewhat. He claims he would be unable to work on "new-fangled" vehicles such as Extreme Gear but if he were to get the chance, would find that he'd be a natural at it.

Likes: Antique vehicles, wine, the feeling when he pulls of a con, vinyl records, fresh pressed suits, rare steak, expensive cigars, older women, working on antique vehicles.

Dislikes: The law, organized crime outfits, his ex-wife, his kid, getting caught, prison, cheap beer, "new" technology, people who talk too much, his grandfather, working on vehicles (his relationship with auto repair is..complicated), staying in one place for too long.

Backstory: Brando Rombilla was born into anything but normalcy: born to a pair of younger Spagonian lovers, the result of a tryst gone wrong, he was abandoned on the steps of his paternal grandfather, the widowed mechanic Angelo Rombilla, who would raise the weasel as his own.

Angelo was an old, stubborn, hardworking man who had spent his entire life toiling away as a mechanic, even coming to own his own shop...yet despite it all, he never quite had a lot to show for it, and Brando grew up in not quite poverty, but in...less than modest means

Despite this...unusual situation, Brando would, at least for a time, grow up as any other child would, going to school, making friends, and living as a normal Spagonian child would--at least until he hit the age of 12-13, where his father suddenly and inexplicably ground his childhood to a halt, pulling him out of school and telling him that he was going to be a "working man" from now on, that he'd have to help out at the shop and help put food at the table--and that is indeed what happened.

From then on, Brando found himself working at the modest repair shop, working the front desk, doing oil changes, and learning the ins and outs of auto repair--and he fucking hated it.

Not just because he'd been robbed of the experiences his peers were getting, but it served as a constant reminder of the (at least to him) pathetic conditions in which they lived and worked. In addition, it only served to exacerbate his sheer irritation at his father's stubbornness and near-perfectionist standards.

But over time, as he aged and saw his peers move on to bigger and better things, he realized something else: all this work, all this "good, honest, hard" work he'd been doing, that his grandfather had been doing, that he wanted him to inherit, it was getting them nowhere

The both of them spent years and years doing the same shit over and over, and they were no better off than when they'd started. They still lived like shit, ate like shit, and worked like dogs, and the idea of doing this his entire life revolted him. Yet when he'd bring this up, he'd just get shouted down, beaten down, and told to get back to work. He loathed it all.

Then one day, around the time Giovanni hit 19--it all changed. In a moment of what his grandfather would call laziness and what Brando would later call ingenuity, he accidentally charged a customer for something they hadn't done--and with it, more money than he should've had. It suddenly hit him, his way out, his way to actually do something about all of this. It started off slow, an overcharge here, a useless job done there, a job not done this way or that, even some front product sold off of lies. Before Brando knew it, the shop was actually making money for once, and more than that, he was making money. And the best part was, that for once, Angelo seemed like he didn't have a stick up his ass. He seemed...happy, over the moon really that things had begun to look up. Things seemed to finally be getting better!

....until Angelo caught Brando in the act, after which the mother of all shouting matches ensued, of the grandson and grandfather screaming at each other about this and that, about everything--and saw Brando being thrown out of the shop, out of his grandfather's home--and out of his life

Out on his ass with only the money he'd pocketed and the clothes on his back to his name, Brando by all rights should have been terrified about his future, livid about what had happened, but instead he found himself excited. Now that his grandpappy or his stupid shop wasn't a problem anymore, he could finally do something with himself, and he knew exactly what that'd be--putting to use the same bullshittery that'd gotten him here to begin with.

And so the young weasel found himself hopping all over Spagonia, honing his craft. Whether it be through pinching wares from stores and selling them nearby at an outrageously hiked price, snatching and selling bootleg items, or even using his mechanic skills to craft "wonder items" that were quite literally just old scrapyard junk, Brando soon became quite adept at the art of the con. However, with that adeptness came attention, and with that attention came the watchful eye of the law, which attempted to crack down on the weasel multiple times as he traveled about Spagonia.

Soon enough, his face and name were plastered on wanted signs, in local papers, and in time, he couldn't run any longer, finally being booked on fraud charges and placed in prison for ~ 3 years at the age of 22. Upon getting out, Brando realized that he couldn't exactly do his work here anymore, lest he get thrown back in for good.

But Soleanna wasn't exactly appealing either, especially since the SPD were notorious for cracking down on fraudsters. He was at a loss at what to do, until he managed to catch a TV broadcast talking about Empire City and it hit him- EC would be the perfect place to disappear and get a fresh start. It was big, it was far away, and it was full of suckers just waiting to be parted with their money Forging himself a new identity (quite literally) as "Giovanni Conti" , he smuggled himself on board a ship and soon found himself in Empire City, where he almost immediately got to work--and found the results to be not what he expected

While the toursts were complete suckers as expected, the residents were anything but, and he found himself on the run from the law once more--and in addition, the various criminal orgs that made their homes there and had no tolerance for being scammed. Needless to say, the whole thing frustrated him, and with no other way to vent his frustrations, he turned to drinking, and with it, found himself at a small bar in downtown EC, drinking away his frustrations...and chatting up an equally frustrated, and rather attractive young woman. He didn't catch her last name, but certainly caught her first- Artemis

What should have just been a simple one night tryst suddenly got a lot more complicated once the young woman had tracked him down almost a week later with some soul-crushing news: She was pregnant, and it was almost certainly by him. To make matters worse, Artemis was an up and coming politician, someone in the running for the EC City Council, and she would be DAMNED if it came out that she got knocked up in a one night stand, that would ruin her career! Despite Giovanni's attempts at arguing otherwise, she also insisted on keeping the child, claiming that if word got out she got rid of it, it would ruin her career. Threatening to hand him over to authorities, she blackmailed him into sticking by her side for the following 9 months, appearing in front of the cameras as a pictureesque pair of parents-to-be, Artemis embracing the newfound attention and Giovanni absolutely loathing all the eyes on him, and not only that, but also moving in together to her (admittedly) lavish apartment.

This continued up on through the end of the pregnancy and into the birth of their son, who Artemis named "Tai", a (perhaps ironic) homage to an old Apotosian patron of Luck. From then, things continued normally, well as least as normal as could be for the unwitting parents-to-be, up until the child was around a year old, when Artemis went on a sudden vacation. Left alone with the child and feeling helplessly trapped, Giovanni contemplated making a break for it, perhaps faking his own death and figuring out the details later, when a hooded figure burst into the home and attempted to shoot both him and the child dead. Through a near-miraculous stroke of luck though, the intruder's gun jammed, giving Giovanni the chance to brandish a knife and stab them in the jugular. His heart pounding, his mind racing, Giovanni quickly put two and two together: someway, somehow, Artemis had tried to get the two of them whacked. Quickly disposing of the body and without really thinking about it, Giovanni grabbed the child and made a break for it, bolting from the apartment and leaving Empire City under cover of darkness, trying to make sure he left no trace that he had left--or was even still alive.

Soon arriving in Westopolis, Giovanni and Tai found a small apartment to squat in for the time being. Quickly settling in, Giovanni quickly fell back into his old ways, and found the people of Westopolis far more vulnerable to his schemes than in EC. Still, the weasel wasn't happy. His "new start" that he'd hoped for had fallen apart before it'd even gotten the chance to get off the ground because of *her*, Artemis. Giovanni's frustration gnawed away at him--not helped by the tiny weasel at home, his little boy--the *mistake* that'd gotten him into this mess. He often found himself verbally and physically taking out his frustrations on young Tai, even more so when it turned out the little brat wasn't even good enough to help him on cons. He wished he could get rid of the little bastard once and for all, but for some reason, he just couldn't bring himself to kill him despite his best efforts.

Years went by, but nothing truly changed for the pair, until young Tai was 8 years old and Giovanni found himself on the bad end of a con gone wrong, having inadvertently found himself attempting to swindle an undercover cop. Rushing back to the apartment he and Tai shared, he quickly grabbed whatever tools he could and attempted to disappear, leaving the young Tai behind for good.

Throwing himself out of the frying pan and into the proverbial fire, Giovanni had managed to disappear and evade the cops---and run right into one of his "victims": "Downtown" Ebony Hare--a "made man" in the Carnades, one of the major local outfits--and someone who he'd given a shoddy brake job. Ebony recognized the weasel almost immediately and motioned to off him for messing up his car, but after Giovanni pleaded for his life, Ebony spared him-- on the condition that he work off his "debts" to him and the Carnades.

Faced with either paying his dues or paying with his life, Giovanni made the obvious choice and ended up doing quite a few small jobs for Ebony over the course of the next decade and change (approx 13 years) not only fixing his car but also fixing the other vehicles in the outfit--and giving a disgustingly large portio nof the proceeds from his other "work" directly to Ebony. Once again, Giovanni was trapped doing the very thing he'd been stuck doing since childhood and not only that, but also indebted to a mobster who had no intention of letting him go. He desperately tried to find a way out, but it was to no avail--until a near miraculous stroke of "luck".

The Black Arms invasion decimated a significant portion of Mobius, especially Northamer, and no place found itself worse off than Westopolis. For most living there, it seemed like the end times as the city burned around them. But for Giovanni, it was an opportunity to finally disappear--and never come back.

The invasion soon ended, the repairs soon begun, and the Carnades began to operate once more--but Giovanni was nowhere to be found. Despite a thorough search of the city, the weasel had just...vanished, presumably killed by the aliens or escaping to parts unknown after.

Giovanni's current location is unknown and those who know of him believe him to be dead, but there have been some apparent sightings of the aged con-man. Some say they've seen him on the outskirts of Sand Blast City, others say they've seen him working his trade with another individual down in the Southern Baronies, and some even say that he's still in Westopolis, working his craft, and sticking close to the headquarters of the East Side Pack, a noted rival of the Carnades.

#OC Refs and Bios #Sonic OC #OC Stuff #Sonic FC #Archie Sonic #Sonic #Sonic the Hedgehog #Giovanni Conti the Weasel #Gambit the Weasel

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itsclydebitches · 5 years ago

Text

Discredit Pt. 2: More Recommended Reviews For A.Z. Fell’s

Alright, folks. Some notes first:

1. You all rock. I’m sending out 20k+ virtual hugs for all the notes I NEVER expected to get on this nonsense.

2. This is probably the final section, just because I’m not sure I can adequately follow up part one and it might be foolish to attempt it here. Let alone twice. But for now, here we go.

3. Kudos to the anon who reminded me of Aziraphale’s cash-only policy <3

4. Nicole Y’s review is based off an actual comment I read years ago, but heaven only knows where online it was. I’ve got the memory of a goldfish.

5. Trigger warning for the use of a queer slur in this. It’s the same review as above, number 5 if you want to avoid it.

6. There’s a text-only version of just the reviews at the end, after all the images. I’ll upload that to my Sparse Clutter collection on AO3 in a bit.

Bonus 7. People thinking this is a real shop deserve all the good things in this world.

That’s all I’ve got. Hope you enjoy! 👍

****************************************************************************

I’m a simple guy who likes simple jokes. If there’s a whoopee cushion I plant it. I will call you up to ask if your refrigerator is running and then tell you to go catch it. (Actually that one died out so thoroughly it’s actually capable of a comeback now!). Yes, I’m a dad and yes, I have a t-shirt that says Dad Jokes? I Think You Mean Rad Jokes! which I wear un-ironically every Saturday. All of which is just to say that my wife was well prepared for my stupidity when I walked into Fell’s.

I? I was not.

You see the bibles when you walk in? The ones to the left? Let them be. Don’t even look at them. Definitely don’t pick out the fanciest one you can find and absolutely don’t walk up to the owner with it held in your pudgy little fingers, grinning like a loon, cheerfully asking whether this should be in the fiction section. Just don’t. Mark my words you’ll regret it. Though your wife won’t. She’ll get a great old laugh out of it all.

In conclusion: it’s quite possible that mama did raise a fool and he just got his ass verbally whooped by a guy in a bowtie.

***

Shout-out to Mr. Fell for being the only decent bloke in this city. I’ve popped in and out of his store for years—including before I started transitioning. So he knew my dead name, dead look, whole shebang and I was definitely nervous to play the ‘You know me, but this is what’s changed and are you gonna throw a fit about it?’ game.

You know what he said? “Oh, Rose! What a lovely choice. Crowley dear, why aren’t you growing any roses? Some white ones would look splendid next to my Henredon chair.”

That’s it. He just went straight into dragging his partner for not giving him roses. So hey, Mom? Next time you’re snooping through my social media why don’t you explain to all these nice people why the 50+yo book seller accepts me in ways you won’t. Don’t go telling me age is an excuse or that you’re ‘Stuck in your ways.’ I’ve watched Fell dress in the same damn clothes since I was ten!!

Yeah. Sorry. Rant over. Fell’s a gem. That’s my take. Rose out.

***

Anyone else in the shop when that guy started yelling about buying pornography? And then got escorted into the back room for some ‘private conversation’? Well done, Mr. Fell! Didn’t know you had it in you.

***

Alright alright alright alright I am TOTALLY calm about this.

Went into A.Z. Fell’s last Thursday. Not because I knew anything about the place. Just because I’ve been hitting up every bookshop within a twenty-mile radius, asking if they’re hosting any book signings. Long story short I self-published my novel Blight last month—which you can get for a mere £5 here but I swear this isn’t a promotional thing I’m just BROKE—and have been looking for networking opportunities, tips, stuff like that. So the owner listened politely as I explained all this. Then said he didn’t do anything of that sort, which didn’t surprise me given the shop’s vibe.

But then? Then??? He offered to let me do a signing there??????

As said. Totally calm about this. This man either plans to kidnap me or is actually giving me my first shot at an audience outside my blog. AKA totally worth the risk.

Tuesday the 9th. 7:00pm. Just in case anyone’s interested ;)

***

holy sweet baby jesus i was tripping balls last week you tryin’ to tell me that kING KONG SIZED FANGED FUCK SNAKE IS REAL

***

Witnessed the most perfect exchange the other day:

Grumpy Dude With No Manners: “You. Boy. Where’s the man I spoke with over the phone?”

Mr. Fell’s Partner Who Knows Damn Well Only Two of Them Work There But Clearly Doesn’t Like This Guy’s Tone: “Did this man give you his name?”

Grumpy Dude: “Might have. Don’t remember. Sounded like a fairy though.”

Me: “....”

My girlfriend: “....”

This Poor Sweet Startled Kid On Our Left: “?!?!?!?”

Fell’s Partner In The Drollest Voice I’ve Ever Heard: “None of us have wings. Out!”

***

This shop gets full stars simply because every time I walk in they’re playing Queen.

I mean, I’ve walked in once, but once is enough when you’ve got Crazy Little Thing Called Love blasting full volume.

***

Okay, I’m still kind of shaken up but I needed to write this out somewhere and this seemed as good a place as any.

I spilled my latte on a book. Just tripped on thin air, popped the lid, and chucked a venti’s worth of coffee all over a very expensive looking text. I didn’t mean to, obviously, but it happened and I just started bawling on the spot. Full on sobs because this semester has been absolute hell, I ruined this guy’s antique, there’s no way I can pay for it, I can’t even sneak away because I’m drawing the whole store’s attention...just all the things all at once. I really was straight up panicking and was seconds away from pulling out my inhaler. I couldn’t breathe.

And then Mr. Fell showed up.

Jesus it’s embarrassing to admit but I think I hit him once or twice. On the arms I mean, because he was trying to touch me and I figured, I don’t know, it was a restraint or something. He was going to call the police and hold me until they got there. But then he managed to start rubbing my back and I lost it like I hadn’t already been bawling my eyes out in this shop. Ever cry into a perfect stranger’s chest? I have! But if Mr. Fell seemed to mind he definitely didn’t show it. Just kept holding me while I probably ruined his shirt and then took me into the back and made me a new coffee in this cute little angel mug. He let me stay there while I called my sister and waited for her to arrive.

She’s a good twenty minutes outside of Soho, so we talked for a while. It’s not like Mr. Fell could fix my shit roommate or bio classes, but I guess just talking about it all really helped. I was a lot calmer by the time my sis arrived and Mr. Fell insisted I come back any time I wanted—for browsing or more coffee.

Of course, sis offered to pay for the book herself. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so surprised in my life. “Certainly not!” he said. “Contrary to popular belief, no one should pay for their mistakes. It’s what makes you all so wonderfully human.”

So yeah. Thanks, Mr. Fell.

***

This little shop must have started a book club for kids! Lately I’ve seen the same group of children hanging out at Fell’s. Three boys and a girl. They’re a bit rambunctious at times, but who isn’t at that age? So wonderful seeing literature passed down to the next generation. Even if some of it is rather questionable looking...

***

It’s an honest crime that more of you aren’t talking about what a wonderful bookstore this is.

I’m a book lover at heart and Fell’s always makes me feel like I’m coming home. I just arrived somewhere safe and familiar after a particularly harrowing day. I’ve slipped under the covers of my bed after dinner and a bubble bath. It’s something like that, but with an element of surprise too. One of the reasons why I adore private and used shops over chain stores is that little touch of chaos. You walk in and sure, there are general sections to browse, but everything is just a little bit disorganized from people leafing through books and then putting them back somewhere else. There’s no real record keeping, you’ve just gotta head to one particular corner and hope for the best. It’s not the sort of place you go to if you want something specific because the chances of them having it are slim—that’s just how the universe works—and even if they did no employee knows where it is anymore.

But if you wander the shelves for a while, crouch down low to get a look at everything on the bottom shelf, pay attention to the books that don’t have easy to read titles or any summaries to speak of... you just might find something you didn’t know you were looking for. That’s Fell’s: the comfort of the familiar and the excitement of the unknown.

*** A lot of people might assume that these stories are embellished or outright made up, but as a bookseller myself going on twenty years I believe every single one of them.

That being said, I accidentally moved a rug and found chalk sigils that look like they belong in a cult. Make of that what you will.

***

There’s a special place in hell for 21st century shop owners that only take cash. Who carries cash anymore? Not me! I haven’t bothered with that nonsense in years! You can get a card reader for 15 pounds on Amazon. Or you know what? Be stingy and pay 7 for the little attachment on your phone. This place is nuts if it thinks it’s going to survive much longer on a cash-only policy, especially with some books that look like they’re worth hundreds or thousands of pounds! Yeah, yeah, just let me pull out this giant wad of bills for you. I’ll carry them around a crime-laden city because there’s no ATM near you either.

I mean jesus, you’d think this guy didn’t want to sell anything.

***

I walked in. There was a man screaming at a fern while another threatened him with an umbrella. I walked out.

5 stars do recommend.

***

I once walked in on the same (?) guy yelling at a book for daring to fall on the owner’s head. I think that’s just a Thing over there.

***

Like a lot of people here I didn’t actually go to Fell’s for any books (flat tire, Angel Recovery taking forever) and ended up staying three hours (not because of Angel). No, I wandered towards the back and found this ancient CRT set propped on a table of books, the kind that my Dad used to watch Twilight Zone on. This lanky guy had a marathon of Gilmore Girls going... though how he was managing that with a broken antenna and no DVR, I really don’t know. But yeah. He told me to pull up a chair and I did. Guy gave me popcorn.

I wish I’d paid a little more attention to his name. Charlie? Curley? I really can’t remember, but thanks for the enjoyable afternoon, man.

***

I BOUGHT A BOOK HERE

Not sure how though. Just kinda happened. First edition of Just William. Frankly I didn’t even want the thing, but the owner basically shoved me out the door with it when I took two seconds to look at the spine. Odd that he was so willing to part with this one.

Update: ... hold up. I didn’t buy a book because I never actually paid the guy. ‘Basically shoved me out the door’ was literal. Do I go back??

***

This page has really gone feral the last couple of months so I’m just gonna bite the bullet and say it:

Anyone notice that Fell’s snake and Fell’s partner are never in the same room together?

***

I really don’t like the implications of this…

***

This is precisely why the Internet has turned into a cesspool. You all should be ashamed of some of the stuff you’re writing here. Can’t two men just be friends anymore? Two real life men? These guys aren’t some characters for you to ‘ship’ or whatever. Quit making outrageous assumptions about their sexualities and use this website for what it’s actually for: reviewing the bookshop. Honestly I’m so sick of this sort of this shit.

***

Dude. They run a queer-focused shop together with a flat on the second floor. Fell calls the guy ‘Dear’ and he’s always calling him ‘Angel.’ People have literally seen them kissing. If you want I can give you the number of my physician. He might be able to help you pull your head out of your ass.

***

What the hell is your problem? I’m literally just reminding people to stop making assumptions. It’s gross and insulting. These guys check their Yelp page. You really think they’re gonna be okay with this stuff?

Also: I’m not the five-year-old relying on insults, so.

***

Making an account purely to set the record straight: I’m the hot twink in question and I married that angel. Peace

#good omens #ineffable husbands #air conditioning #good omens fic #guess who spent 48 hours doing nothing but writing and formatting #can I get a wahoo

11K notes · View notes

imagine-that-100 · 5 years ago

Text

Holiday | Part 1 |

Description of Part 1: Alex Turner x Reader (Female) | You’ve been friends with Alex Turner and the other boys from Arctic Monkeys since you were 13. You never for a second thought that Alex would release a song about you though. From late night phone calls and almost constant texting and teasing, you’ve managed to stay close with him over the years. When a pact is established and a holiday is arranged, life seems to be treating you very well. But a month in LA will either make or break you.

Word Count: 13.2K

A/N: Okay so here it finally is. The start of my first Alex series. There’s going to be a minimum of 10 Parts to this series and I really hope you all enjoy it. There’s nowhere near enough Alex content on this platform as there should be so I hope this helps. The majority of the series is set in 2015 and I hope you’ll enjoy reading this as much as I have writing it. Let me know if you want to be tagged. Taglists are always open. Thank you for reading x

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| MASTERLIST IN BIO |

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You’d been good friends with Alex Turner since you were 13 years old. Being stuck in school and then doing the same boring GCSE’s made it really easy to become friends with people in your school that you never really spoke to before.

Becoming friends with him was an easy process. You both got on with each other like a house on fire and your friendship groups also mixed really well, meaning that in school and after, you spent a lot of time together.

You’d say you started to fancy him during your Music lessons in school. Especially in Year 10 when he came back after Christmas dedicated to learning how to play the guitar and it seemed like literally nothing else mattered. You, being a naive teenager, put it down to you fancying musicians and not that it was anything to do with Alex himself.

Well, that was what you told yourself multiple times to get over it but it sort of just stuck. Your crush came and never really went away. Especially when you started attending parties with him and you fell deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole.

The laughs and the innocent looks and the dirty jokes just made him perfect and you found yourself wanting to hang around with him, Matt, Andy, and Jamie more and more.

So, when you had the excuse to start seeing them more at their gigs, you rarely passed up the chance. The first time you went to one of their shows, you were apprehensive to say the least. Just because you had no clue if Alex could sing or not.

He would always refuse to sing in school and to be fair, you didn’t blame him. You rarely sang in front of anyone. Not even your friends. You only sang properly at home, in the shower, or at concerts.

So, when you got to The Grapes to watch Arctic Monkeys’ first gig, you were anxious.

You knew their music would be good because you’d heard Alex play the guitar and over the years, he’d become amazing at it, but you’d never heard him sing. So, when he started singing up on the stage, you were blown away.

His voice was heavenly to say the least.

It was innocent and gruff at the same time and their music was honestly something you wish you could listen to all the time and no that wasn’t just so you could listen to Alex’s voice all day. Well that was part of it, but you actually enjoyed the music as well.

You supported their music every step of the way and you became really good friends with the boys because you were always there watching them. You were there from when it was just a room with a few friends and family, and you were there when there were real crowds attending just for them.

You were there for everything.

This meant that when you attended various house parties with them, it was never weird when you were spotted in their presence instead of your other friends. If you were honest, they were easier to get on with than your group of girls. There was no bitching with the boys, and you found them much easier to party with.

No drama, just the drinking and it was great.

The parties with them were some of your fondest memories from your younger years and you loved thinking back to them. One of your favourite memories was at a house party a week or two after their first album had been released.

This particular party was memorable because you’d finally persuaded Andy to take part in a drinking game with you and the other boys. Andy was usually never one for games but you’d managed to twist his arm this time.

You were in some guy from high school house and he’d got a drinking game out, which you and the boys took over. It was one of those games where you had to throw a magnetic bottle top at a board and wherever it landed, you had to complete the task it said.

The options were like, ‘Down your Drink’, ‘Take a Shot’, ‘Drink with a Buddy’, ‘Assign a Shot’, ‘Everybody Drinks’, ‘Pass’, and ’Throw Again’. So needless to say, you were pissed by the end of the game, let alone the night.

When you got drunk, you became clingy. So, whilst with your friends it meant that you hugged the boys a lot and didn’t stop chatting. You were by far the drunkest out of your little group because they kept using you as the ‘drink with a buddy’ and ‘assign a shot’.

You vaguely remembered hugging Matt for ages that night until he passed you over to Alex where you would didn’t stop chatting his ear off. Thankfully he was fucked as well and chatted to you a lot too.

“Alex I’m so proud of you” You said as you flung your arms around his neck and pulled him into you for a hug.

Alex chuckled at your words before asking, “Why?”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him and moved yourself back a bit so you could see him again. ‘God he was tall’ You drunkenly thought.

“Because you’ve got like a number one album and you never stop. You’re just so good” You smile.

“Nice to know you only think were ‘good’ Y/N/N” Alex chuckled at your drunken truths.

You pouted at him, “You know I didn’t mean it like that”

Alex laughed at you before motioning for you to jump on the kitchen counter, so you’d be a similar height to him. You did so with his help, your head spinning a bit before your eyes settled back on Alex who now stood in front of you in the busy kitchen.

“You know you’re like my best friend, don’t you Al?” You asked him.

“Yeah I know. You know you’re one of mine, right?” Alex asked you with a smile, looking at your drunk eyes trying their best to stay focused.

“Am I actually?” You asked him and the shocked voice surprised Alex.

“Course you are. Can’t forget my music buddy, can I?” He asked you, referring to what you called each other back in high school.

You again threw your arms around him and pulled him towards you. You started chatting pure shit with each other after that and Alex stayed with you and entertained you.

He stood close, still in-between your legs with his hands resting down on the counter either side of you.

You chatted like that for at least an hour and you ordered Alex to make you more drinks, which he happily got you before returning back to his previous position. You both completely occupied the others attention and it wasn’t long before you were back to talking shit.

“So, you ever gunna write a song about me Al?” You grinned before taking a sip of your drink, leaning back against the cupboard behind you.

“How do you know I already haven’t?” Alex smiled cheekily at you before taking a sip of his own drink.

Your eyes went wide and you quickly swallowed your drink so you could ask, “Oh my god, have you really?”

“Maybe” Alex smirked at you before keeping his lips pressed tightly together so you couldn’t see his smile. But you didn’t have to see a smile to know the truth, you could see the amusement in his eyes.

You lent forward and put your hands on his shoulders. “Come on, you have to tell me”

“No, I don’t” Alex chuckled, shaking his head before taking another drink.

You weren’t having any of that though. “Nah come on. Which one is it off the album?” You pressed on.

“It’s not on the album” Alex told you.

“The EP then?” You tried again but you just made Alex laugh.

“Not on there either” He grinned.

“So is a new one?” You asked getting excited.

Alex shook his head smiling and told you, “No, I wrote it about a year ago”

“So you’re just never gunna let me or anyone else hear it then?” You pouted and tried not to laugh upon seeing Alex’s drunken gaze try and stay focused.

“No one” Alex grinned before picking up your drink and pushing it to your mouth to make you forget about the subject. But you never did.

The boys had taken off around the UK which was amazing for both them and you. You never imagined at the age of 20 that they would take you on tour with them, but they did.

You didn’t think they were being serious when they initially asked you. But you, Alex, and Matt had become so close the past 7 years that they just said they still wanted you there at every gig.

You remembered them asking you just after Whatever People Say I Am came out and you couldn’t really believe it. It was about a month after that party and you were honestly shell shocked by their offer.

“So, Y/N, you coming with us or what?” Matt asked you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

“Coming where?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows and watched as he took a seat next to you in your lounge.

“Around the country?” Alex smiled at you from his seat opposite you.

“On tour” Matt confirmed, and you looked between them in complete shock.

“Don’t even joke about that. It’s not funny, don’t rub it in my face that you get to go places” You pouted.

Alex smiled at you with a cheeky grin and said, “Good thing we aren’t joking then, ain’t it?”

“You’re actually being serious?” You asked looking into Alex’s eyes. You could usually tell when he was lying and this time you really hoped it wasn’t a joke.

“Yeah. There’s a spare bed on the bus and we want you to come with us” Alex smiled at you genuinely.

“Really?” You asked, your eyes getting brighter by the second.

“Yeah. Why’s it so hard to believe? You’ve literally been to every gig the past four years so can’t leave you behind for this” Matt said pulling you into a hug from the side.

“I’d love to come” You smile at them and then moved over to your other sofa to hug Alex when Matt released you.

You were so lucky that their heads hadn’t grown too big since they’d become really popular and you were glad you got to experience their first UK tour with them.

The only difficult bit about it was watching Alex slowly slip away from you and fall into the arms of a few different girls. But that was okay it was bound to happen, because you weren’t going to tell him how you felt.

Despite the flirty jokes that went on between you and the boys, you wouldn’t act on anything with Alex because you valued their friendship so much. You also didn’t say anything because if you said that you liked him on tour with him, it would have been really awkward when he rejected you to get with the celebrities he could now get.

But that was okay. And when he started going out with Alexa the following year, that was okay too. In fact, you were happy for them, really happy.

You moved on with your life and watched the boys grow bigger from a bit of a distance. Not because of your feelings towards Alex, but because you didn’t want to be known as the Arctic Monkeys groupie all your life.

After the first UK tour, you’d gone back home and got yourself a job that you loved before you went back and finished uni. You were happy and had even settled down yourself with someone you’d met at a pub one evening out with the girls.

You’d obviously kept in contact with the boys as they toured everywhere and saw them whenever you could. But unfortunately, they weren’t home often so it was a rare occasion when you saw them.

You always bought tickets to see them in Sheffield and every single time you got scolded by the boys because they didn’t want you paying for your tickets when your name would always be on the guest list. But you were happy just being on their PR list, where you got free copies of their music in the post the day that something new was released.

You never wanted to scrounge off their fame and you never would. No matter how famous they became.

You loved Favourite Worst Nightmare and Humbug when they came out and you also loved Suck It And See. To be honest you knew you’d love anything they would ever do because you loved your boys and would support their music until the day you died.

And despite both of you being in relationships, you would always find Alex attractive. Not that you would do anything to act on it when you were with someone or if he was, but you could still admire from a far and you don’t think your friendship with them would ever die.

That’s why you didn’t think it would matter when you phoned Alex up just after AM dropped.

It was 00:34 when you called him up. You couldn’t not do. You were so shocked and just needed to quickly chat to him, just to tease him if nothing else.

You smiled as the phone rang because you knew what you were going to say as when he picked up the phone. You also knew that his reaction was hilarious because it always was when he got embarrassed.

“Y/N?” You heard Alex answer and your smile immediately came back to your face.

“Hey Al, you good?” You asked him in a very happy tone.

“Yeah I’m fine... Are you...?” He trailed off and you let out a little giggle.

“I’m great thanks… I just wanted to ask you a quick question” You asked then put a hand over your mouth to stop you from laughing.

“Right…” You heard him say and you could tell he knew what was about to come.

“Do you like writing songs about me?” You laughed.

“Fuck sake” Alex groaned.

You let out a small laugh at that before you carried on teasing “No I love it. I’m just wondering, did I happen to forget that we shagged, or do you just want the boys to think that we did?”

You couldn’t believe it when you heard Knee Socks.

You literally had to play it over again a few times because you knew it was about you. Or the knee socks bit definitely was anyway.

You giggled thinking about it. That used to be your look. You always wore knee high socks around your house and all of the boys had seen you in them multiple times.

From the age of 16 to 19 you dressed like that all the time. Knee socks, skirt or shorts and a top of your choice. That was you and no one from school could say otherwise.

Yeah other girls wore them in school, but they would change out of them immediately when they got home. You however would keep them on and make outfits to go with them.

You even went as far as getting different coloured ones for when school finished so you didn’t have boring black ones on all the time. It was your style and you’d made it your own.

Friends would even shout you over in the street because they knew it was you because no one else wore them, or they rarely did.

The knee socks were once upon a time your defining feature.

In the summer you often went out like that and you literally knew the day Alex was referencing in the song. You’d all gone to the park for drinks with your big group of friends and one of them tipped your drink down your front.

Obviously younger you couldn’t have a stain on your top, so you bothered Alex to let you borrow one of his tops because you knew he lived the closest to the park. And he did actually let you and so he should have because he was one of your best friends.

You remembered walking with him to his house and he gave you his sky-blue Lacoste top to wear because nothing else was clean. You remember you keeping it for quite a while afterwards too, until one particular day when you invited a few friends round and Alex called you out about wearing it until you gave it him back.

“Y/N can you not?” Alex sighed down the phone and you could practically see him holding the bridge of his nose with his eyes closed as you spoke to him.

“No Alex I love it. I’m just wondering how long you’ve wanted to shag me because I tell you what Al, you can grab the scruff of my knee socks whenever you’re back home” You teased him and it was allowed because you were both single again now.

About 4 months ago he’d called you and told you the news that him and Arielle has split up. And whilst you were sad to hear about his breakup, you were excited you could once again exchange the flirty banter with him that you used to do all the time.

“Don’t tempt me Y/N, I’m only a few hours away” Alex called your bluff.

You smiled at hearing him saying that. “Ooo Baby come and get me” You groan down the phone.

“Y/N” You heard him say and you could tell he was torn whether to try to joke with you or start a normal conversation.

“Al I’m just joking… It cute. It’s a really good song. I’m glad I’m still a muse” You smile remembering back when he teased you saying another song was about you, but he never told you which one it was.

And you knew it wasn’t this song because after Suck It And See came out you asked him about it again and he said he’d already put it out. So, you knew it was either on Favourite Worst Nightmare, Humbug, or Suck It And See but you never found out the exact track.

You heard him chuckle down the phone at you and you joined in. You thought you would take the conversation away from you joking and said, “Alex in all honesty I fucking love this album so much. I can’t wait for my copy”

“Do you actually?” Alex asked you like he genuinely didn’t believe what you were telling him.

“I really really love it Alex. I think it might be my favourite one” You told him honestly.

“Well if you think that, we’ve smashed it then, haven’t we?” He said and you could practically hear his smile.

“You really have Al, it’s so good. I’ve been waiting for it all day” You spoke candidly.

“You could have rung me earlier I’d have sent you a CD or something a few weeks ago, instead of it coming tomorrow. I never even thought” Alex told you, but you cut him off

“No, no, no. You know how much I like the build-up for your music. You know I love it when you release new content and I’m still privileged I’m on your mailing list” You told him.

“Do you really like it that much?” Alex again had to ask still not quite believing you.

“Yeah I love each and every song. They’re so good... Well I haven’t listened to the last one yet but I’m sure it’s great”

“I Wanna Be Yours?” He questioned.

“Yeah that one. I sorta just had to skip Knee Socks back to the beginning a few times and wait for my jaw to peel itself off the ground” You grinned.

“I’m sorry. I should have pre-warned you or asked if it was okay” Alex sighed worriedly.

You shook your head, even though he couldn’t see you.

“No, you don’t. You can sing about whatever you want. I was just confused because I swear, I wouldn’t have forgot shagging you of all people” You teased again.

“Yeah, no, that was something we never got around to doing Y/N” Alex confirmed down the phone.

“Disappointing” You sighed with a smile.

You heard Alex’s chuckle before he said, “There’s always time Y/N/N”

“Very true Al. I’ll go and buy some knee socks for you, let that kink of yours resurface” You carried on, your grin never wavering.

“Don’t get me excited Y/N, I’ve gotta go sleep soon” Alex attempted to match your humour, but you were too shocked by what he said to carry on the joke.

“What do you mean you’ve gotta go sleep soon? You’ve just released a fucking album you should be out partying” You asked very worriedly.

You used to be out till morning light on album release nights. You were both getting older but Jesus, you at least thought he’d still go out for that.

“Y/N/N I’m twenty-seven. I’m an old man now and besides I’d get fucking mobbed” He told you.

Since he’d cut his hair, the band we’re getting a lot more attention and you were fairly certain that they would be getting a lot more after this album. Alex had been telling you about the crazy fan encounters that he’d been getting on the build-up to the album drop and you were honestly scared for him sometimes.

But that didn’t mean he shouldn’t celebrate the release of his new album. So, you shook your head as if he could see you and said, “No you wouldn’t they will all be at home listening to AM”

“That’s a shout actually Y/N but if I’m honest I’d rather just chat to you and get in bed” Alex told you and it made you smile.

“Ooo Al, getting me into bed was easier than you thought then. Wasn’t it?” You played with him.

“Fuck off” He chuckled again.

“I’m just joking Baby, you can get that sweet spot whenever you want” You giggled to him, your sultry tone coming through though.

“Y/N/N” He sighed at you. It was more of a groan really though.

“Alex” You say grinning.

“You’re not getting away from this one. You wrote another song about me, and I’m fucking, buzzing. And the fact you wanna fuck me... Alex get yourself back home now” You continued on to say, the smile never leaving your face.

“Can you not?” Alex chuckled.

“Why? You getting all excited? You wanna know what I’m wearing?” You tease.

“What was your favourite song Y/N? Apart from Knee Socks” Alex promptly changed the topic of conversation but you could hear the smile in his voice.

You giggled and said “Smooth” before you continued on to having a really nice conversation with him about the new album.

“Can I be honest with you” You asked him.

“Course you can” Alex told you.

You drew patterns on your blanket as you said, “It will probably change but, I think my favourite song wasn’t on the album”

“So it was a B side?” He asked.

You nodded, when though he couldn’t see you, “Yep. You wanna guess which one?”

“Nah I’ll just let you tell me”

“Boring” You giggled before you told him the song, “Stop The World I Wanna Get Off With You”

“Thought you’d like that one” Alex said, and you could almost hear his teasing smile through the phone.

You smile and say, “You know me well”

He then told you about how he came up with the ideas of a few different songs and some of the funny stuff that happened whilst recording. You chatted for ages about all different things to do with the album and about how you were excited to see them on their tour.

But obviously, the conversation went back to Knee Socks on a few occasions.

“What are you doing?” Alex asked because you’d ignored his last question and he could tell you’d gone on speaker phone.

“I’m just looking at the lyrics of Knee Socks” You grinned trying not to laugh.

“For fucks sake Y/N/N” Alex sighed.

“Sorry Al, I’m just intrigued” You told him as you read over the lyrics.

“Just ask me then you don’t have to google it” he tells you.

“Nah this is more fun...” You trailed off as you carried on reading the second verse.

You read over the lyrics with a smile on your face as you heard Alex groan through the phone.

“Oh right. Thanks Al” You say sarcastically, rereading some of the lyrics hidden in the verse.

“Oh no, what now?” Alex asks you.

“I was a stranger in your phonebook you were acting like you knew, ey?” You asked him about it.

You would have never classed yourselves as strangers, even when you did lose touch for a year.

“I meant that I hadn’t spoken to you in ages. It was literally over a year Y/N, you can’t deny that” Alex said, and it was unfortunately the truth.

Both of your lives took over and you didn’t really speak to each other apart from the obligatory Happy Birthday text. Both of your lives took over. You with your job and Alex with touring and then writing Suck It And See.

Messaging and managing calls with differing time zones proved to be difficult and the fact that they didn’t have any social media meant that you lost touch. But thankfully you got back in contact with each other at the beginning of 2011 and your friendship became a closer one.

“Alright then fair enough but… What do you mean that you had nothing to lose?” You asked him but then it was just stereo silence from the other end of the phone.

That was until it all suddenly clicked into place in your mind.

“Oh” You said in shock.

“Oh Alex” You said in a flattered tone with a grin on your face the entire time. You only noticed that he wanted to shag you from the chorus lyrics, but this was a great new find.

“Correct me if I’m wrong but back in like 2011 when you randomly phoned me in the middle of the night for the first time in a year... I was your booty call wasn’t I...?” You smiled as you heard silence on the other end of the phone.

“I remember phoning you back the next day and you were back here” You start to explain remembering the day well. He was back in Sheffield and you were so excited.

“You were back home, and we met up despite you being horrendously hungover... That was when we started chatting again... But all this time you were just back in town and you wanted to shag me, didn’t you Alex?” You explained and questioned, all whilst having a big grin on your face.

“Y/N” Alex said in a gruff voice, trying to stop you from going on.

“Don’t Y/N me, answer me question” You said in an amused voice.

“Maybe” Alex reluctantly said, and you could tell he wanted to die.

You lay back in bed and closed your eyes in disappointment at yourself. You sighed, “I’m never putting my phone on silent again”

“Why?” Alex asked you with furrowed eyebrows.

“I could have shagged you Alex and I missed the fucking call” You said getting annoyed at yourself and you accidentally let that annoyance slip into your voice.

“What, you would have actually said yes?” Alex asked you in disbelief.

“Erm yeah. Next time phone me until I pick up please” You smiled. If he was once open to it, you didn’t need to hide it as much now.

“Y/N I was sad and alone. You wouldn’t have wanted to shag freshly dumped me” Alex told you in a sombre voice, but you flipped it back around.

“Aw Al, if you were offering how could I have said no?” You cooed him.

“Y/N I can be at yours in a matter of hours say the word and I’m on my way. I’m at the top of my game now” Alex says sitting up in his bed.  

“As tempting as that is, you literally told me ten minutes ago that you had a dozen interviews tomorrow and I’m sorry, but I need this album to do well because I want more albums in the future” You said reluctantly.

In all honestly you couldn’t believe you were turning Alex Turner down. The guy that you’d fancied since you were 15.

“Next time then?” Alex asked you optimistically.

“Next time” You giggled.

You probably stayed up chatting to him till around half two. At which point you were eager to listen to the last song on the album and you could tell Alex was tired.

You said your goodbyes and promised to text each other soon.

The next few days you obviously had the album on repeat. Trying to learn all of the different lyrics and the vibes each song gave off to see which one was truly your favourite.

You were out walking around Sheffield town centre with your earphones in when you decided you wanted to do a bit of shopping. You hadn’t treated yourself in a while, so you thought you’d have a browse and see if anything took your fancy.

And needless to say, when you saw a certain item of clothing you stopped dead and knew you had to buy it.

They were white knee-high socks that had two blue rings around the top of them. You immediately picked it up and then went on the hunt for a sky-blue top that you could wear just to take the piss further.

Thankfully after the millionth shop you found a long body one in Primark. You couldn’t afford a Lacoste one despite you really wanting to buy one, but you couldn’t justify it just for the joke and unfortunately you did give Alex his back all those years ago.

You then went home to try on what you once would have worn all the time. The top was a lovely colour and came down to just above your mid-thigh which you loved.

The socks though. You had forgot why you loved these types of socks so much. They were so comfy and just from being in that outfit you were warm. And extremely comfortable.

You thought you’d take a picture of yourself just for the sake of it. But you then decided you were going to post it on Instagram, so you wanted it to look good. And you already knew you were going to send it to Alex, so you wanted it to be funny anyway.

You sat on your bedroom floor which you made sure was tidy before posing for the camera set on timer in front of you. You thought you might as well pose for it too despite half your face definitely being cut off because of the camera angle.

You tilted your head up and bit your lip in a seductive way just to take the piss out of Alex further. You bent your knees up so you were almost hugging them but angled them to the side so your blue top could still be seen by the camera.

You made sure that the scruff of the socks could be clearly seen, and you even decided to pretend to put them down. You pulled the blue top over your booty shorts, so it looked like you were just wearing the top as a dress and it looked like you were wearing nothing underneath.

This obviously meant that your thighs could be seen too, and you made sure that they looked what you deemed to be good before you settled on one picture in particular.

The picture left just enough to the imagination. The socks looked amazing and if you were honest with yourself you thought your thighs did too before the sky-blue top covered the rest of you.

The top was baggy, but you still loved the way it looked in the picture. You were also biting your lip in a way that drew the attention of whoever would look at the picture and your hair was messily around your shoulders, and it looked as if you’d been up to no good.

When you were happy you put it on Instagram with a slightly edited caption. You thought you’d be smart and change the lyrics a bit just to tease Alex a bit more.

I’d have never stopped you getting hold of the sweet spot by the scruff of my knee socks.

It was risky but you loved it. You didn’t care what the fans thought. They had been speculating about you and Alex since the early days of the Arctic Monkeys because you attended loads of their gigs and obviously hung around with them before and after.

They thought you were going out with Alex for a good year before he went public with Alexa. You and Alex just laughed and joked about the whole thing though despite you secretly wishing it was true.

There had been multiple times in between then and now when people speculated about the both of you online again. You and Alex just ignored it and had a laugh about it.

When Alex was single Matt always used to refer to you as Alex’s girlfriend which made the whole group laugh. More speculation had even happened at a Last Shadow Puppets gig a few years back and you knew it was about to happen again but you didn’t care.

You really couldn’t be arsed anymore. Once you even told a paparazzi that you were going out with him just to make the guy piss off. Thankfully Alex didn’t care and just laughed about it because you were both single at the time and no publishing ever came out about it.

All the speculation and the fact that you used to post about them a lot meant that you gained a lot of followers on your social media which you didn’t really mind about anymore. It used to bug you that you felt like you needed to make everything perfect. But at one point you just posted whatever you wanted, not caring what people thought anymore.

You’d become sick of thinking that every picture needed to be perfect before it went up and you’d grown tired of wondering if your pictures would get more or less likes than the last. At the age of 25 you thought ‘fuck it’. The likes didn’t matter.

Especially now at 27 you just didn’t care.

You were ready for the speculation to hit again as you clicked post. Alex had broken up with Arielle about 4 months ago and this was bound to get some people talking but despite still fancying him you just wanted to tease him. The newfound information that he fancied you, or at least at one point he thought that you were good enough to shag, had given you a confidence boost.

You received a fair few hundred likes in the space of half an hour and some of the comments made you giggle. It still felt weird getting that many likes despite the fact you’ve been getting them for years.

However, you heard nothing from Alex when the picture had been up a while. So, you decided to copy the link to the picture and send it him.

You sent the link with a message following which said:

Just gunna leave this here for you Turner, enjoy xx

Alex saw the message later on that day. He could see that it was an Instagram link and he got curious.

When he clicked the link, it opened up the Monkeys Instagram as that was the only profile he currently had on his phone. The image opened up after a few seconds and Alex’s jaw fell open.

He was glad no one was around him and that he’d finally reached his hotel room. He was sat down on the end of his bed and studied the image for a few minutes.

Alex thought you looked fucking stunning. And stunning was putting it nicely, he thought you looked fit as fuck. The picture was one of the sexiest things he’d seen.

From your ruffled-up sex hair to you biting your lip. To the way you were teasingly pulling on the scruff of the socks and the way the long top covered what Alex was itching to see.

He thought you looked good back in the day wearing his top but fuck, you looked amazing now. Even better than he remembered.

He couldn’t stop looking at your thighs which he wanted to grab and pull you towards him. If only you were dressed like that in front of him.

Needless to say, Alex liked the picture and he didn’t care that people would see that he’d done it on the Monkeys account. They didn’t need to know he’d done it because he thought you looked beautiful, most of the fans knew you were friends anyway.

But he wished that he hadn’t just flew back to America.

~*~*~*~*~*~

After that night you and Alex started chatting properly. Alex obviously joked with you about the Knee Socks picture you posted, and you couldn’t help but laugh about it from time to time.

You came to see the boys on their AM tour and because they didn’t have a home gig on this tour, you went to their Manchester show. But it was one of their best gigs you’d ever been to, so you didn’t mind having to travel.

Alex and the lads had invited you out for drinks with them after the show which you of course agreed to. The night was filled with laughs and a good catch up until about 4am when they had to be back at the bus to go on to wherever else they were touring.

When you got back to the bus to send them on their way you gave each of them a huge hug. You hugged your Cookie first and he gave you the biggest hug.

“You guys were amazing tonight. I’m gutted I didn’t get the time off to follow you down to London” You said as you hugged Jamie goodbye.

Once you let go, Nick took your attention up. “Well you’ll have to spend more time with us another time” Nick said before hugging you from behind and picking you up off the ground.

You squealed laughing as he span you around. Your mind already dizzy from the alcohol, meaning that this just made it worse.

Nick put you down and let you go before your mind caught up. You knew you were headed for the ground, so you reached out to the leather jacketed man in front of you.

You grabbed onto the front of his jacket to keep yourself up right and Alex’s arms immediately went around you to steady yourself.

“Steady on” Alex smirked down at you.

“Sorry Al” You giggled in your tipsy state.

“I know I’m good lookin and all but there’s no need to faint” Alex said before securing his arms tighter around you and pulling you into a big hug.

“Fuck off” You chucked, hitting him over the back of his head as your arms circle his neck.

You gave him the biggest hug and savoured the feeling of his arms tight around you. “You’ll have to come and stay with us up in LA sometime” Alex said before letting you go.

“Oh my god I’d love that. I bet you’ve got a big house haven’t yous” You said looking between Alex and Matt.

“Big’s an understatement” Jamie chuckled.

“Try a massive fuck off mansion with a pool” Nick added, and your eyes went wide.

“You have your own pools?” You asked and both Alex and Matt nodded.

“Fuck yes I’m coming. Holiday at Helders house” You said as you jumped into Matts arms.

“Yesssss” Matt grinned as he hugged you tightly.

And that was the holiday planned. The AM tour was finishing globally near the end of 2014, so the trip was decided for the summer of 2015.

You’d seen the boys at a Leeds festival in between and you and Alex had started speaking to each other even more frequently. Whilst on tour, you spoke on the phone at least twice a week as you really didn’t want to bother him but when the tour finished you spoke more often.

But there was always constant texting between the two of you.

It was March 2015 when you and Alex were on the phone to each other and you received the most amazing news.

“So Y/N/N, looks like you’ll be staying at mine instead of Helder’s this summer” Alex tells you.

“What? Why?” You asked completely confused.

“Jeez you don’t need to sound so pleased” Alex said in a sarcastic tone.

You scoffed at that and scorned him, “Shut up I’m still excited, I’m just wondering what changed?”

“Well I’ve just had some news… And what the hell Matt told me to tell you anyway…” Alex said leaving you hanging.

“Alex spit it out your scaring me. Is Matt okay?” You asked him, your voice full of concern.

“Oh yeah he’s brilliant, in-fact he’s having a baby” Alex told you.

You gasped, “You’re joking?”

“Nope it’s due in October” Alex chuckled.

“Oh my fucking god” You say getting all excited. But then the tears started forming.

“Why the fuck am I crying?” You chuckle wiping the happy tears from your eyes.

“Awh Y/N. You feeling a bit broody” Alex cooed and teased.

You wipe away a stray tear as you say, “Shut it Alex, I’m just so happy for him”

“Yeah same” Alex admitted, and you chatted about Matt and just life in general for a while.

The conversation later travelled onto the both of your love lives and you both told each other openly. Since you’d last seen him, you’d had a 5-month relationship that didn’t end on the best of terms and Alex told you about different people he’d been seeing.

He told you that after his split with Arielle back in May 2013 he just couldn’t really be bothered to find someone else and be hounded by the press again. Despite that, Alex did have a few shorter relationships with people who weren’t in the public eye.

But Alex told you he was starting to get tired of looking for people who liked him for him, and not his status.

You smiled sadly at that. “Same Al… I feel for you though. Everyone knowing who you are and watching your every move. I don’t know how you do it”

Alex let out a laugh at that. “What do you mean? We’re still going out with each other, aren’t we? Especially after the Knee Socks photo way back when” He chuckled.

“Oh yeah I forgot about that. We’re like 9 years deep now aren’t we and 3 scandals later. Both so us having serious relationships whilst still with each other” You laughed.

“Yeah that’s the one. Maybe we should just throw a curveball and do it, considering we’re both hopeless on our own” Alex suggested.

You shrugged your shoulders despite him not being able to see you. “I’d be down for that. Been trying to get someone to do that pact with me for years” You admitted.

“What pact?” Alex asked and you could hear the curiosity in his voice.

“You know the one that if your both single at thirty, you get together and eventually get married and all that jazz” You explain to him in brief terms.

“I mean yeah let’s do it” Alex says and you’re pleasantly surprised. He continues on, “I could see you over here making me my dinner every night”

“What makes you think I’d come over there and I wouldn’t make you come back home” You tease.

“The fact that we both hate the rain at home and it’s always warm and sunny here. And you know... the fact that I’ve got a pool” Alex argues, and you smile. He knew you too well.

“Good point, well-made Turner” You chuckle. “Yours it is. But you can fuck off if you think I’m making the food every night” You laugh.

“Fine I’ll make it Monday to Wednesday, and you can do Thursday to Sunday” Alex purposes and you smile.

“Fine by me, because Saturday is takeout night and I can make a mean Sunday Roast” You chuckle.

Alex chuckles too, “I’m liking the sound of this already” and you giggle.

“I love how we’re planning this already” You admit.

Alex agreed with a laugh, “Same”

“So, you up for it then? If we’re not with anyone when I turn thirty, we just fuck it and get with each other” You purpose.

You only said when you turn 30 because you knew Alex was older than you. You’d allow him a bit more time to escape a future with you, despite you craving one with him.

“I’m in” Alex confirmed down the phone and you smiled.

“We’re so funny” You giggle.

“We are”

“Ah well at least I know you can take care of me Al… You can sing me to sleep” You smile.

Alex chuckled at that. “I thought you were going to make a joke about money but if all you want me to do is sing to you Y/N/N, that should be easy”

“I’m offended you think I’d be with you for the money” You scoff. “I remember letting you have twenty quid back in the day because you wanted a takeout and I never saw any change. Don’t even think you gave me a chip”

“Well I’ll make it up to you. I’ll buy you a takeout when you come over” Alex says, and you giggle.

“Thanks Al” you chuckle. “Do you want me to bring my knee socks with me too? Get you excited for me being your wife in a years time” You tease.

“Please do. God I’ll pay for you to fly out today if you bring yourself in some knee socks” Alex teases.

You let out a loud laugh at that. “You know I’ve got meetings all this week. You can’t be tempting me with offers like that”

“I just want you out here sooner rather than later Y/N/N” Alex tells you and you can hear the smile in his voice.

You chuckle and say, “I’ll be out there before you know it. In my knee socks. I promise”

~*~*~*~

And because you think your hilarious, you actually do get on the plane to LA in knee socks.

You got on the plane in some plain black knee socks with your black and white converse on. You also wore dark blue denim shorts because you knew it would be really warm over there.

On your top half, you wore a black and white stripped baggy top that you knew you wouldn’t get too warm in and you wore a black and green flannel top open as a jacket over the top. You would more than likely remove it when you got off the plane and tie it round your waist.

Your flight took off early afternoon in the UK and you knew the time difference would be a problem so you deprived yourself of sleep the night before so you could sleep on the plane. You were hoping to get your body into gear for LA’s time zone.

And you were thankful that you did before you spent all but 2 hours of the 14-hour flight sleeping. Which was over double what you usually slept each night. When you got to LAX the time was 7pm and you couldn’t wait to see Alex and Matt.

Alex was going to be picking you up from the airport thankfully, so you didn’t have to get a taxi to his house that you had no idea if it was right or wrong. As soon as you stepped foot off the plane the heat hit you and you immediately took your flannel shirt off and tied it around your waist.

You texted Alex saying you landed and that you were headed to boarder control. You got a text back saying that he would be ready and waiting for you which made you smile.

When you got your suitcase, you made your way out to where everyone was being greeted by people. You looked around the impressive airport in hopes to find one of your closest friends.

And he wasn’t difficult to spot in the busy airport. In fact, he stood out like a sore thumb.

Your man was wearing a white top with his leather jacket over the top with blue skinny jeans. He also had on some boots that you had no doubt costed a bomb and he wore those iconic Aviators.

His hair was jelled up like it was the 50s and if you weren’t so excited to see him you would have probably admired him for longer. He looked gorgeous but you just wanted your old friend back in your arms.

When you saw him, you started jogging over to him and you saw the smile on his face as you made your way over. Alex knew how excited you were, and he was actually surprised you weren’t fully running his way.

The real surprise came when you reached him and jumped into his arms. Your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms wrapped around his neck.

The speed at which you came at Alex threw him a little which almost caused him to lose his balance. So, to save the both of you his arms went around you to keep you upright and against him and once steady he gave you the biggest hug.

“Hey” You greeted him in an ecstatic voice that rang down his ear.

“Hey Y/N/N” Alex said into your ear in an equally happy tone and he hugged you the tiniest bit tighter. He’s missed you so much.

You stayed in his arms for a minute longer as you pulled back a bit to see his face. You smiled when you saw his glasses were slightly wonky because of your greeting and you corrected them for him before placing your hands back on his shoulders.

“I love the glasses” You smirked at him, knowing he would get your little joke.

You made jokes on the phone about him probably wearing them to bed, because he wore them inside all the time. You’d seen his interviews so you knew he couldn’t escape the truth of your statements.

You felt Alex’s grip on you move to underneath your legs to keep you up, but you smiled when his finger quickly ran over the top of your socks.

“I like these” Alex smiled at you and you giggled.

“I thought you might” You smiled at him before returning back down to the ground again.

You grabbed your suitcase that you had previously abandoned and started following Alex to wherever you needed to go. You were clueless.

You had no idea where you were headed. Even after you dealt with leaving the airport, you had no idea where Alex’s house was or what it looked like, but he assured you it was nice.

You followed Alex through the busy airport and you both made small talk as you made your way to the car park. He took your suitcase from you as you got to the carpark and you thanked him as he pulled it towards the black Range Rover that you assumed to be his car.

“This one yours?” You asked him smiling.

“Yep” Alex confirmed, and you chuckled.

“I remember you always wanting one of these” You smile as you watch him unlock the car and open the huge boot.

Alex smiles at you. “Well you know me. Creature of habit” He said as he lifted your case into the boot like there was nothing in it. He’d definitely been going to the gym. The Alex you once knew complained about PE but he’d just made that fucking heavy suitcase look like it was empty.

“You brought everything you own?” Alex asks you as he shuts the boot.

“No” You pout as you walk around to the door and Alex follows you. “I left the settee at home” You joke and Alex laughs.

You look to the car door your about to open and get into but then realise you’re in America.

“Fuck” You say, and Alex laughs again as you make your way around to the other side of the car.

“You sure you don’t wanna drive?” Alex teases you.

You smile but flip him your middle finger and he grins as you get into the car next to him. You look around the expensive car and your staggered by how much room there is.

“This is amazing” You say looking at everything and running your fingers over all the buttons near the door handle.

“Sick innit?” Alex smiles looking at you getting all excited before he connects his phone to the car and immediately The Strokes start playing.

You aren’t shocked at all by this and smile. “Glad to see you’re still you Al” You smile as Alex starts to pull out of the parking space.

On the drive Alex asks you all sorts of things like what your flight was like and he wanted to know everything from back home. You of course tell him, but you’ve got questions of your own for him.

You ask about the rumours about him and Miles because you just can’t help yourself despite knowing they weren’t true.

“No, you bitch, you’re causing more shit because your sending tweets out saying we’re cute all the time” Alex scorns you but his smile shows that he’s not actually bothered.

“It’s not my fault you’re horrendously cute and close with each other. I ship it Alex, I would’ve been happy if it was all true” You tell him honestly.

“Well it’s not so you can chill about the whole Milex thing or whatever you called us” He chuckled as he drove.

“Okay okay” You laugh but after a minute you realise something.

“Wait how did you know I tweeted about you? You don’t have twitter” You asked him with furrowed eyebrows.

Alex laughs at that before saying, “You really think I don’t have twitter Y/N? That’s adorable”

“Oh my god, what’s your handle? Let me follow you right now” You say getting your phone out of your pocket.

“Nope” He shakes his head. “It’s a secret one for a reason. Don’t want anyone finding me on it and I know what your like. You tag Matt in everything” Alex says, and you gasp.

“Wow. And I thought we were friends” You shake your head with a laugh.

“We are. But you don’t need my Twitter or my Instagram to be my friend” Alex says but you just gasp.

“You’ve got Instagram too?!”

After the shocking revelations wore off and him not telling you anything, you were finally excited to see where he lived. When you were about 5 minutes away Alex told you and you got yourself all excited.

He’d been keeping it a secret from you for months so you could experience the excitement when you got here. He already knew you would love it, but he knew you were going to be completely shocked.

Alex always was himself when he came back. He had to remind himself that it was all real and that it was actually his.

“You ready?” Alex asked you as he turned a corner and he had to stop at a barrier, and he said ‘Hey’ to the guy in the booth.

You were so confused but the guy let the barrier up and you were once again driving down the road.

“Do you live in an army base or something?” You asked him.

Alex immediately laughed and shook his head, “I believe they call it a gated community”

“Fucking hell Alex how big’s your fucking house if you have guards for all the houses here?” You asked.

“You’ll see” Alex chuckled, and you looked at the houses you passed as you moved further down the road.

“This one coming up is Miles’” Alex points in front of you and you look around and your completely shocked.

It was huge and that was an understatement. It looked like a 5-bedroom house at least and as far as you were aware Miles didn’t have a girlfriend or anything, so it was baffling that he had a house that big all to himself.

But you shouldn’t have been so shocked because when Alex pulled up outside his own house a few minutes later, your jaw was on the ground.

Alex stopped the car in front of the house so you could still see it and you were in complete awe. It looked like the houses that you saw in films where all the mega rich people lived.

It was mind-blowing to you that your Alex Turner, from high school, lived in a house like this. But if you could afford it, you definitely would be living in this sort of lifestyle too.

You honestly couldn’t believe he lived in a house like this all alone. It was stunning.

You could see that the house was one of a modern style. The different stories of the house could clearly be seen from the entrance and it looked like it was at least 3 stories high and it seemed to have loads of balconies. Everywhere you looked there was something new and something that you wanted to explore.

“Fucking hell” You said breathlessly.

Alex chuckled looking at you. You looked like he must have looked when he first saw it. Jaw agape and in complete shock.

“Do you actually live here?” You turned your head to look at him with wide eyes.

Alex laughs and nods at you and you slap his arm. “And you haven’t invited me over before?! Alex I could live here and never see you it’s that big!” You say and Alex nods.

“I told you that you could come whenever you wanted” He reminds you.

“I didn’t want to interrupt you, but I didn’t know you lived in a modern castle. I can’t believe you didn’t show me this place” You said as your eyes were still fixed on the huge house.

“Do you wanna have a look around?” Alex asks grinning at you and you nod very enthusiastically.

“Right let me put the car away first and then I’ll give you the grand tour” Alex says as he grabs the fob that opens one of three garage doors.

When he drives into the garage though you’re once again shook. He has a convertible white Audi in there and a fancy looking red sports car. 3 more cars could easily fit into the room though.

Your jaw is once again on the ground as you ask, “Are these both yours too?”

Alex nods to you and you very cheekily ask, “How much money do you actually have?”

“Too much” Alex tells you before you both get out of the car.

You are still astounded by the other cars and looking around the garage whilst Alex gets your turquoise suitcase out of the boot for you. You walked to meet Alex at the back of the car and grabbed your case from him.

“I’ll get it” He insists but you shake your head.

“Nah it’s okay I’ll feel like I’m going into the Love Island villa” You laugh.

“You been watching it?” Alex asks you and you nod.

“Yeah have you?” You question, very intrigued by his answer.

“Course. Do you not remember watching it years ago? We were all at yours watching it. That’s when I got my Lacoste top back” Alex recalls.

“Still fuming you wanted it back” You laugh. “But I got a banging tune out of it so I can’t really complain”

“Right come on. We will go in the front way so you can get the full experience” Alex smiles before pressing a button on the garage wall and the door starts to slowly close.

You both walk up to the door and Alex gets his key out and opens the door for you. He allows you to walk in first and the whole place astounds you. As he shows you around your flabbergasted by everything you see.

It was all modern and open plan with really nice furniture, and everything was mesmerising. There were so many things he showed you and each room that you went in left you in awe.

It turns out it was a 6-bedroom house with 4 different floors. In the basement was a cinema room that could easily fit about 20 people on the huge but comfortable sofas in there. In the basement Alex also showed you a room where he kept most of his guitars.

He had explained that it had originally been a huge wine cellar, but he would have never filled it so to make a better use of the space he had the room converted. In there was at least 30 guitars in there which were all stunning to look at and you definitely wanted to play a few of them whilst you were here.

On the ground floor were all the usual things, except they weren’t usual, they were huge. The kitchen was massive and had two of everything. You saw no need for Alex to have 2 fridges, 2 freezers, and 2 ovens when he lived on his own.

Through an archway the kitchen led to the lounge and dining area, which was all open plan. The lounge had 2 three-seater settees which were at a right angle towards each other. They both looked towards the 60-inch Smart TV which was just as lovely as the rest of the place.

The other side of the sofas was a pretty big dining table with an abundance of chairs around it. It looked like something you could have a massive dinner party at, but you were more about eating in comfort, so you usually ate your tea on the settee.

The wall of the entire back of the house was sliding glass doors which showed off a beautiful view of LA and a massive pool. When Alex took you outside you were actually astounded.

The pool was amazing and even though it wasn’t really dark yet, you could see the lights were already illuminating the water. Around the pool was a really nice stone patio with a few sun loungers on either side of the pool. There was some really expensive looking garden furniture on the patio too.

There was a really nice BBQ area and Alex also pointed out to you what land was his. The whole thing shocked you. So much of it was his.

The garden was huge, and it was beautiful. Everything looked so fresh and the pool looked really modern. The view of LA from the house was also incredible.

Alex showed you the other rooms that filled out the ground floor. There was a laundry room that was probably the size of your bedroom back home and a downstairs toilet too. Other smaller rooms filled out the floor too and you were just shocked by how beautiful everything was.

Just in-between the lounge and the dining table were some sleek marble stairs which led upstairs to the second floor. Up there were all the bedrooms and a few bathrooms. Alex showed you his room and you loved it.

It was very him. He had loads of vinyl and books on shelves, a record player and a few guitars lay around. There was also a desk in there, and he had a king-sized bed which had really nice navy blue covers on.

But he then showed you his en-suite and you were once again shocked. The shower was fucking huge and so was the bath. The bath could probably fit 3 or 4 people in it if you tried hard enough.

You said that you weren’t staying on the whole other side of the house to him, so you put your suitcase in the room down the hall from his. You didn’t have an en-suite, but you had a bathroom just across the hall.

Alex then showed you the third floor which was just as impressive as the rest of the house. The third floor was split into 3 different sections. The largest was the music room which was to be expected. In there was everything any musician could possibly want.

There were a few more guitars that you recognised from the various times you’d see him on stage. There was a drum kit, a few bases, some recording equipment and a lovely black grand piano.

You had to sit down and play a quick tune on it. You loved playing the piano and you always had. Ever since you were taught how to play in high school you carried on teaching yourself after school too and you were pretty good.

One of the other sections was a home gym which you of course knew Alex now loved doing. Almost every time you spoke to him on the phone, you’d interrupted his gym session or even stopped him from doing it.

One wall was purely glass which had a stunning view of LA and you could see the lights of the city sparkling in the distance as the light faded. You didn’t particularly like going to gyms back home because you didn’t like to exercise in front of a load of people but with a view like that you could easily see yourself getting lost in your work out.

The final room Alex showed you was his office. You thought it was more of a library really though because of one of the walls was entirely a bookshelf.

The whole house was stunning, and you felt the need to lie down after it was all done. However, Alex kept you busy.

“Your surprise is downstairs” Alex informed you as he put his phone away.

“My surprise?” You questioned with a smile.

“Yep just for you” Alex told you and he led you back down to the ground floor.

As you came down the stairs into the lounge and dining area, you saw someone else you’d not seen for a very long time.

You hurried past Alex and jumped into the arms of another one of your long-lost best friends.

“Matt” You said throwing your arms around his neck.

“Hey Y/N” You could practically hear him smile as you both started swaying into the hug because you didn’t want to let each other go.

You then thought about his baby and started to tear up because you were a complete softie. “I’m so happy for you Matt” You said trying not to fully cry.

“Awh thank you Y/N/N” Matt said understanding what you were talking about.

You squeezed him tighter and said, “I’ve missed you so much as well”

“I’ve missed you too” He chuckled.

“I’m so happy for you both though. What date is Breana due?” You asked.

He told you the date and you hugged him even tighter. “Y/N are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m just so happy for you” You said before letting him go.

“You’re gunna be a daddy” You said almost crying.

“I know” Matt chuckled putting his hands on your shoulders making sure you were okay.

“Are you excited?” You asked.

Matt nodded, “Yeah, and scared and nervous but I’m so excited”

“Good you should be. I’m a little bit jealous of you I won’t lie” You told him honestly.

“You want a baby?” He asked you. It’s not something you’d ever really chatted about before, but he was intrigued and so was Alex who was listening in.

“More than anything in the world, why do you think you’ve got me crying?” You said wiping yours tears away.

“Awh Y/N/N” Matt cooed you and hugged you again. “I didn’t know you wanted kids that much”

You got your emotions under control again and told him, “Yeah I really do. That’s why I get morbidly depressed after every breakup because the chance of kids gets further away”

“Aw don’t worry. Everything will sort itself out. You know I didn’t know Bre until all the videos and look at where we are now” Matt recalled, and you nodded as you let go of him.

“Yeah that’s true. I’m still so happy for you both though” Hopefully life would sort itself out for you.

Matt was about to say something to you until the sound of a phone loudly rang and took up his attention.

He pulled the phone out of his pocket and says, “Speaking of” and he shows you Breana’s caller ID on his phone.

“I’ll be 5 minutes” He informs you and you nod before you turn around and see that Alex is sat down on the settee that’s facing the wall of windows.

He’s sat with one arm across the back of the sofa and you take a seat about a foot away from him. You sit so you are looking towards him and you start asking him questions about the house that he happily answers.

You were asking him really boring things and he told you the equally boring answers that were interesting to you. He told you things like he had cleaners come in every 2 weeks to clean the place because he still couldn’t stand doing housework. He washed his clothes and cooked and that was about it.

But Alex moved the conversation back onto you.

“Your hair’s so long now” Alex noticed as he picked up a strand that lay near his hand and twirled it round his finger.

You smiled at his action and nodded, “Yeah I thought I’d grow it out. I just kept on looking at our old school pictures and I was like I want my hair like that again”

“It looks good. Suits you” Alex complimented with a smile before letting your strand of hair fall back over your shoulder and onto your chest.

“Are you saying I didn’t suit my short hair Al?” You teased.

“What? No, it looked great. All I’m saying is-“ Alex started stumbling over his words.

You giggled to yourself but quickly saved him, “Alex, chill out I’m just joking. Thank you”

“It’s alright” He said calming himself down a bit.

You smiled and asked him, “You know what I miss though?”

He looked to you and raised his head slightly waiting for you to tell him.

“I miss your long hair” You almost pouted at the thought of your friend with his long, wild hair. The fringe really was something back in its day.

Alex let out a laugh at your comment and you smiled at him.

“It’s never going back like that. It was awful” He shook his head at you before running his other hand that wasn’t resting on the sofa through his hair.

“Aw no it wasn’t. It was dead cute” You giggled.

“I do like what you’ve got going on now though” You carried on to tell him.

“Very Clark Kent” You smirked trying not to laugh as you reached up to twirl the small curl that hung over his forehead.

“Fuck off” Alex smiled pulling his head back and pushing your hand away.

You thought you’d annoy him further like you used to. You got on your knees on the sofa quickly leaning closer to him and both of your hands found his perfect hair and you hastily messed it up.

“You bitch” You heard Alex say in an annoyed tone but when you looked down you could see the smile on his face.

When you looked at him though Alex made the most of you temporarily being distracted and he grabbed your wrists and pulled them down from his head.

You grinned at each other, you waiting to see how he was going to retaliate. After a second of stillness Alex brought both of your wrists into one of his hands and with his other, he aimed for your hair.

You hastily pulled yourself backward trying to return to your seat on his large sofa, but he was having none of it. The now messy haired man pulled your wrists towards him and you almost fell against his chest with a small yelp escaping your lips.

His fingers ran through the roots of your hair and messed it up completely dragging it over your face, almost like he was trying to suffocate you with it. When he stopped, you laughed and shook your head trying to pull free from him, but it proved difficult with his tight grip on your wrists.

“Alex” You screeched giggling and his laugh could be heard too.

You blew the hair out of your face and shook your head as you lent back away from his free hand. You managed to get your hair to part again and you could finally see and breathe.

“You’re annoying” You chuckled at him.

Alex laughed “Now you know how annoying you’ve been for fifteen years”

“Fuck you” You said pushing against his chest, but he just laughed at you.

“You can if you want” He smirked in a playful way that you were now only used to down the phone.

“I would but I don’t know how I feel about this newfound kink of yours of holding people down. And besides Matt’s in the other room” You joke with a grin.

“Well we’ll have to wait until he goes home then won’t we” Alex returned with a playful smile tugging you slightly closer.

“Alex” You squeaked with wide eyes.

You never expected him to be this forward with you in real life. You fucking loved it though.

“What? You’re the one that’s all sexual with me on the phone” He chuckled and pushed your bound hands against his chest.

“Fame has changed you Turner” You smile shaking your head slightly at him. You hadn’t flirted with him like this in real life since like 2006.

“You haven’t changed a bit” Alex smiled and once you smiled back at him, he released your wrists from his grasp.

“Jesus you dug my watch into my skin” You said before you eased your watch up your wrist a bit more.

“Look I’ve got a red mark now” You said showing him the skin that had been pressed down underneath your watch. It was quite funny because a circle had been pressed into your skin and its outline was pretty clear.

Alex took your wrist again, you thought to inspect the damage, but he said, “What’s this?” He traced the small black line that ran the whole was around your wrist.

“One of my tattoos and your gunna shoot me for it” You tell him before taking your watch off.

You rubbed the slightly red skin and then showed him the inside of your wrist which was the main part of the tattoo. You’d gotten the AM that came up at the end of the Do I Wanna Know video tattooed onto your wrist about 3 months ago.

You’d saw someone else do it online and loved it, but you decided to make the line go all the way around your wrist which sort of made it look like a bracelet. You got it because AM was your favourite album and the boys were a huge part of your life and you never wanted to forget that.

Alex took hold of your wrist again and gasped, “You didn’t”

You giggled and said, “I did”

“Why?” Alex chuckled shaking his head as he traced the AM line on your wrist.

His actions tickled slightly as you said “Well it’s my favourite album and your music means a lot to me. And I’ve wanted one for a while and this one was perfect”

“You’re crazy” Alex smiled as he carried on inspecting your wrist.

You laughed at that and shook your head, “Do you like it?”

“Yeah it’s lovely I just can’t believe you’ve done it” Alex told you smiling looking back to you.

“Well you make really good music and you’re my favourite band, so a little fan dedication can’t hurt” You added to try and validate your actions.

“It’s on your wrist I bet it hurt” Alex smiles your wrist still in his.

You laughed at that and nodded, “Tickled a little but it was worth it”

You then added, “Now I can be reminded of you all the time Al”

“Don’t know whether to say lucky or unlucky you” Alex chuckled looking back down at your wrist. Still tracing the line.

You smile, “Definitely lucky. My best friends aren’t too far away now”

“That’s a cute thought” Alex chuckled.

“I am cute. What can I say?” You joke and Alex laughs just as Matt comes back in and smiles when he makes eye contact with you again.

As Matt walks back over to you, Alex asks him, “Have you seen what she’s done?”

“What’ve you done now?” Matt chuckles looking towards you before you show him your wrist.

He looks from your wrist back up to you and says, “You didn’t”

“I did” You chuckle.

Matt laughs and shakes his head before saying “You’re an idiot” as he sits himself down on the other sofa.

“No, I’m not, I just like your music Matthew” You whine with a smile.

“We know you like our music; you didn’t need to get a tattoo of it” He tells you shaking his head at you.

“Oh, sorry Dad” You chuckle. “Getting into the role already I see”

At that Alex burst out laughing and Matt shot you both his middle finger.

You spend the next hour chatting away and you make them fill you in on everything. You loved a bit of gossip and the fact that theirs sometimes included other famous people was something you lived for.

Alex had kept you up to date on most things over the years on your various phone calls, but nothing beat a good face to face catch up. You’d really missed the boys you’d grown up with and you were beyond happy you could spend more time with them whilst you were over.

And you ended up having a great evening with them to. A perfect way to start off a holiday you’d never forget.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Taglist: @the-girl-before @murderousginger @minigranger @turnertable @bastillewolf @slothgiirl @billskarsgard-is-gorgeous @watashi-no-namae-wo-yonde @fookingsummertime @coolpunkrockgirl @marvel-avengers01@peakymoon1985 @toolateformcrtooearlytoleaveemo @gretavanbobatea @chocolatecig @paullohose-blog @iamnotjesha @rachaeljayne15 @edgythought @when-thedarkness-comes @angelicnobody

Let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged x

(Sorry I don’t know why some of them didn’t work)

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beetlelands · 3 years ago

Text

im just gonna post some of these back to back bc why not. this draft is from october 2019 and is aptly titled “ruh roh ghost lad." but this is the one where beej gets stuck as a ghost in the maitland-deetz house

With a poof, Beetlejuice was on the roof of the Maitland-Deetz house. He groaned, opening his eyes. “Where am I?” He questioned quietly, looking around the area. He was quick to recognize his destination. “Wait what no, how did I get here? God/Satan please send me back,” he muttered to himself. He tried his best to teleport himself away, but he couldn’t go anywhere. He tried to fly away but ended up on Saturn so he was quick to fly back to the roof.

Beetlejuice sunk down to his knees, begging to god/satan- or perhaps the person who sent him there in the first place.

“Dammit!” he shouted in frustration, slamming his hand down on the tiling of the roof.

He heard the window begin to rattle as it was being opened. Muttering a string of curses to himself, Beetlejuice teleported himself to the other side of the roof, hiding. He heard the familiar voice of Barbara Maitland say “I told you there’s nothing out here honey, stop being so paranoid.” With that the window shut once more.

Beetlejuice sighed, slumping down the side of the chimney. He was trapped in the plane of the Maitland/Deetz house. The place he was killed- not that he was still salty about that or anything. He refused to believe he was a simple ghost. He was still a demon- he had to be- maybe he was just trapped.

That’s when an idea struck him- he needed to see Lydia. If she said his name three times, he could return to the living plane like before. Sure, it might be hard to get her to say his name, but the two of them were BFFFFs forever. She had to help him, it was his only choice. He needed to get out of there and Lydia was his ticket home.

Begrudgingly, Beetlejuice floated down to Lydia’s room. The blinds were closed, so he knocked on the window. When she opened the blinds, he was out of sight. He phased through the wall and took a seat at the end of the bed. Beetlejuice watched as the girl narrowed her eyes, peering out the window. “Must’ve been a bird,” she shrugged before turning around to see none other than Lawrence Beetlejuice Shoggoth.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Oh c’mon Lyds, I know you missed me.” Beetlejuice teased, but the girl merely rolled her eyes, giving him a stern look. “Fine, I missed you- no okay even I didn’t believe that.”

She couldn’t help but smile a little at that, “You love me, don’t try to deny it.” The demon pretended to throw up, which caused Lydia to laugh but she was quick to stop herself. She regained the same serious tone she had earlier, “You know my family isn’t going to want you here.”

“But do you?” He asked, earning a confused look in return. “Lydia, do you want me to leave?”

“I don’t know, Beej. If I say, yes will you go?” The teen asked playfully.

“Nope! But get this- I won’t leave, because I can’t.”

“Wait what?” Lydia’s smug expression fell.

“I am trapped here just like dear old Adam and Barbara. You may wonder ‘how?’ and to that I say- I don't know! But I have an idea on how I might be able to leave, and that involves you, scarecrow. I need you to say my name three times and maybe, just maybe, I can get out of here.”

“What if it doesn’t work?”

“Well then, we just have to test it to find out.”

“Beetlejuice,” the demon clenched his fists in anticipation. “Beetlejuice,” he closed his eyes, preparing himself. “Beetlejuice,” Lydia finished off, watching intently to see what would happen.

The bio-exorcist stayed quiet for a little bit before opening one eye to examine if anything had happened. Groaning, he opened his other eye. “I don’t feel any different.” He tried using his demonic powers but nothing happened, well there were a bit of sparks (which caused Lydia to giggle a little at his failure). He tried teleporting but that was to no avail. “I don’t have my demon powers. I’m… not a demon.” Lydia was understandably shocked. For as long as she knew Beetlejuice he was a demon, she couldn’t even picture him as anything else. “I’m a ghost, Lydia! A fucking ghost!” He shouted angrily, slamming his fist down on her bed post. She shushed him, causing him to take a few deep breaths, “Okay, sorry, sorry. Gotta keep quiet so the fam doesn’t find me, I know.”

Lydia scrunched her nose in disgust at the word ‘fam’ but knew that wasn’t nearly as important as what Beetlejuice just revealed about himself. “How can you no longer be a demon? Is that even possible? And you said you’re trapped here? In that case, it doesn’t matter if you’re quiet or not. It’s not like you can hide forever. Plus, maybe Adam and Barbara can help get you back to normal. Is there a way to get you back to normal? What if-”

The ex-demon placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder, causing her to look up at him. “I’ll be honest with you, I zoned out until you said Adam.”

The girl pushed his hand off her shoulder, “This is serious Beej. What if you’re trapped here forever like the Maitlands?”

“Then I’m trapped here forever with the Maitlands” he smirked.

Lydia scoffed, rolling her eyes. “There’s gotta be some reason you’re like this, and there has to be some way to get you back to the way you were.” Beetlejuice nodded in agreement. “First step to figuring this all out is to let everyone know what’s happening.”

She motioned for him to follow her. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Nope but it’s all we got.” She shrugged and he copied the action.

Beetlejuice put his hand on the door before she could open it. “Okay but what if we prank them?”

“You know I’m always down to spook my family, but they’re not gonna be happy that you’re here to begin with. So we should take things easy, don’t overwhelm them, y’know?” He groaned and muttered complaints under his breath as he moved his hand from the door.

Lydia led Beetlejuice downstairs. No one was in the living room, so she loudly screamed for a family meeting.

Charles bolted into the room, Delia excitedly following him. The Maitlands sank down from the ceiling, clearly stressed by the teen’s yelling.

“I can’t believe you called a family meeting, Lydia!” Delia said cheerfully, not noticing the ex-demon standing behind Lydia.

“Get away from her” Charles commanded, glaring angrily at Beetlejuice. Sure, they didn’t leave off on a bad foot, but he was not going to let history repeat itself. Delia flinched at his shouting before seeing who he was talking to.

“Oh c’mon, Chuck. Aren’t you happy to see your son-in-law?” Beej teased, earning death glares from all of the adults in the room. “Too soon?” He asked, feigning innocence. Lydia laughed at the inappropriate joke. “See this guy gets it” Beetlejuice smiled, nudging the teen.

Delia placed a hand on Charles’ arm, a silent plea for him to remain calm. Adam placed his arm out in front of Barbara. She looked to him and he shook his head. With a sigh, she backed down, holding onto her husband’s hand for her emotional stability.

“Beetlejuice is trapped here as a ghost like Barbara and Adam.” Lydia states, breaking the tension in the room. Confusion was plastered on the adults’ features.

“How?” Adam asked slowly, hesitantly.

“Good question, really good question. However, we don’t have a really good answer.” Beetlejuice verbally danced around the answer.

“What does that mean?” Charles furrowed his eyebrows.

“He doesn’t know how this all happened.” The teen clarified with a shrug. “I thought that maybe my resident ghost parents could help us figure out what happened to him.”

Barbara narrowed her eyes at the ex-demon, not buying his act. Adam, however, smiled softly and said, “Of course we’ll help, Lydia.”

“If you’re staying here, we’re gonna need to lay down some ground rules.” Charles stated, eyes locked on Beetlejuice.

He met his eyes with an almost wicked smile, “Of course, Chuck.”

Lydia groaned dramatically, “it’s not like he can do much. He’s a ghost now, not a demon.”

“Ghosts need boundaries too” Barbara retorted.

“I think the most obvious rule is that you cannot marry Lydia again.” Delia said, earning nods from the adults in the room.

Beetlejuice groaned, “how many times do I have to say that it was a green card thing!?! Even I’m not creepy enough to actually try to marry Lydia. She’s like 3!”

“I’m almost 16, Beej.” She rolled her eyes.

“Exactly you’re 3. Now quiet down tot, the grown ups are talking.” He teased. She stuck her tongue out at him and he stuck his out at her.

“You’re not one to talk about age Beetlejuice. You may be extremely old, but you’re less mature than Lydia.” Charles spoke snidely. Both the ex-demon and his daughter seemed offended by the statement.

“Rule number two: no pranks.” Adam spoke up, trying to change the subject.

“What? That’s not fair!” Beej protested at the same time Lydia asked “Have you met us?”

“The last time you two pulled pranks, you scared people to the point that the passed out!” Barbara explained.

“Just because a couple of cowards couldn’t take a scare, doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t be able to prank. Plus, That Beautiful Sound was a whole bop and our dance sequence was phenomenal.” Beetlejuice said defensively. Everyone except for Lydia gave him a confused look.

“Please don’t take away our pranks! We’ll tone them down, I promise.” Lydia bartered, giving both sets of parents puppy dog eyes.

Adam cracked first, then Delia, then Barbara. Charles didn’t crack until, with a frown, she muttered a quiet “please dad.”

“Okay fine. Rule number two is no big pranks. Just try not to do anything that will put yourself or others into harm’s way.” Charles amended.

“Rule three: don’t physically harass us, Beetlejuice.” Barbara said, crossing her arms sternly.

“Define physically harass…” BJ said furrowing his brows.

“Don’t grope or touch either of us inappropriately, don’t kiss us, and don’t make inappropriate jokes at our expense. I’m not just gonna take it this time.” Barbara said. Maitlands 2.0!

“Fair enough, Babs. But don’t pretend you didn’t like it.” He joked, earning the most terrifying look from Barbara. “Okay okay sorry, I was just kidding.”

Adam lightly rubbed his thumb in circles on Barbara’s hand, causing her to relax and saving Beetlejuice from her wrath.

“Rule four: no lashing out. In this house we try to maintain a calming aura, all matters can be solved through (calm) communication.” Delia smiled. Beetlejuice resisted to roll his eyes.

“I’d say the final rule is to not go into anyone’s bedroom unless you’re invited in. Snooping or just disturbing the peace is highly frowned upon, so just watch yourself. If any more rules are to be added in the future, you are expected to follow them as well.” Charles concluded.

“As you wish, Chuckles.” Beej said with a posh accent, bowing dramatically. Lydia giggled at his antics, but as usual, she was the only one to appreciate his jokes.

“We will leave you to figure out how all of this happened.” Delia stated with a soft smile, she lead Charles out of the room, and motioning for Lydia to follow. Hesitantly, she did. She mouthed to BJ that she’d be back in a bit.

“I don’t believe you.” Barbara said as soon as she heard the door down the hall close.

“What? What’s there to not believe? Wouldn’t you think I’d prefer to leave than stay somewhere where I’m clearly not wanted?”

“Well you weren’t exactly wanted the first time-“ Adam started, but was cut off by the ex-demon.

“I was selfish then. Goal oriented, if you will. I just wanted to be alive! But I’ve been down that track and seems like life just wasn’t meant for me. But here we are now, and I’m trapped with my killers.”

“Lydia is the one who stabbed you with bad art.” Adam stayed matter-of-factly.

“But you convinced me I was wanted. You kissed me.” He accused Adam. “And you flirted with me.” He pointed at Barbara. “You played to my senses to emotionally manipulate me! And you think I’m here by choice?”

Barbara frowned. He had left so confidently. There didn’t seem to be any hard feelings. But here they were. “Beetlejuice, I believe that you’re stuck here. I just meant that I didn’t believe you were telling the whole truth. But I’m sorry for what we did, we just wanted what was best for Lydia and that seemed like the only option.”

Beej took a breath, remembering Delia’s dumb rule. “What do you mean by you don’t believe I’m telling the whole truth?”

“You have to know how you got here.” Barbara said.

“Okay yeah fair enough. I’m pretty sure I know how and why I’m here but not how I can leave.”

“Wh- it was just that easy?” Adam asked. “All Barbara had to do was call you out?”

“The netherworld is full of paperwork

and again, an abrupt ending! because past me sucked <3

#long post #draft #a work out of progress #straight up didn't edit this #breaking the fourth wall #beetlejuice fanfiction #not beetlelands this time lads #but it likely would’ve been #bc back in the day bestie had major beetlelands brain rot!!#tbh i don’t really ship it now #but you didn’t hear that from me #beetlejuice #barbara maitland #adam maitland #lydia deetz #charles deetz #delia deetz

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miraculouscontent · 4 years ago

Text

Askplosion #12 4/4:

(I would like to state for future reference that, while I do not mind long/multi-part asks, if you’d like to engage in actual discussion with me over a non-Miraculous topic, my DMs - Tumblr Messenger - should be open; I lost pieces of three multi-part asks this time just due to Tumblr not sending the remaining part(s) so yeah, I just wanted to make that clear)

(like, this askplosion ended up being super long because of this section and that’s not really what I want to have going on since I’m supposed to be a primarily Miraculous blog; I don’t want to have to stop answering non-Miraculous related asks but I might have to if this keeps up:)

.:New non-Miraculous Asks:.

Anonymous said:

What are your experiences with some really rude anons?

It’s partly my fault when it happens. Like I’ve said before, I’m an aspie, and part of what that means is I struggle to understand situations emotionally. I can come off as insensitive or read the mood wrong which often leads to people misunderstanding my intentions or where I’m coming from.

More often than not, what I’m saying will make 100% sense to me but not the person/people reading it. I also stick a lot more firmly to my opinions than I should because people tell me I fold too easily, and I come off as more egotistical than I actually am to cover up my low self-esteem lol.

So yeah, can’t think of any experience in particular but sometimes it might be my fault? At least I suspect that it is?

Anonymous said:

“Killed by kindness” makes me think of an assassin who kills people by giving hugs and compliments to people and the occasion gift that isn’t tampered until thre target does like Conrad Birdie making women swoon into fainting by singing.

omg

yes

Anonymous said:

You're watching Yashahime right now? rip

MARINETTE TAKE 2 MOROHA DESERVES BETTER

SETSUNA HAS SO LITTLE REASON TO HANG OUT WITH THE OTHER TWO GIRLS

IF I SEE ANOTHER DEUS EX TOWA I’M GONNA KICK SOMETHING

(so yes, I’m watching Yashahime)

Anonymous said:

Since someone recommended Remarried Empress, I would like to recommend my own webcomic: Princess Love-Pon! It's about a young girl named Lia Sagamore who becomes the titular magical girl and purifies people's hearts when they're tainted by the Dark Queen! It's really cool due to its diversity, the main character is black and her best friend is Afro-Latina, the villain and her prince son are also black, and there's a Japanese girl, a black guy, and an Indian girl. Plus, loads of pink and frills!

Thank you very much, though I actually don’t take recommendations, even from close friends. The Remarried Empress anon wasn’t a recommendation; they were more pointing something out to me and then I went to confirm.

Anonymous said:

Unrelated to MLB: Which Pokémon are your favourites?

I used a “Favorite Pokemon Picker” because I prefer going by generations to pick favorites and that was the easiest way of going about it. I struggle picking super favorites so here’s what I got form each generation! (my only rule was “one Pokemon per evolution line” with an exception of the Eevee line since they’re different types, and also Alolan/Galarian forms)

(note: the blue-patterned Vivillon is my favorite and I honestly don’t like Charizard normally but the Y version actually slims him down and gives him the wings I feel he should have; it’s an improvement of the design so it gets my seal of approval, I don’t like the X version at all)

(lol I was looking through this after I was done and find it really funny how it’s like, 50% cute things and then the other 50% is just EDGY, there’s very little in-between with me I guess)

Anonymous said:

Bridgerton the Series: Yay or nay? Sorry if you haven’t seen it or it’s not your thing. I was just curious.

Never seen it, though when I brought up to someone, they didn’t recommend it to me at all ahaha.

Anonymous said:

I previously kept having this argument about The Bechdel Test with someone. She keeps insisting that the test is invalid because there's nothing wrong with talking about men and that it was created for lesbians only, and not for feminists, with the implication that being a lesbian somehow means that you dislike men or want them gone. And she also thinks the test is about NEVER talking about men, rather than merely occasionally talking about other things. I keep telling her otherwise, but...

jdfhkgdfhjgdfg “lesbians only”

now all I can imagine is “lesbians only” sections at restaurants and such

Anonymous said:

Have you ever played Akinator, with or without the Miraculous Ladybug characters? Because I played it with Ochaco from MHA and Marinette and he guessed them within a second(can your character control gravity? Is your character a protagonist?). I even played it with myself as the "character" and he guessed "your shadow" lol. How about you?

I’ve played Akinator before but I don’t specifically remember what I was searching for lol.

Anonymous said:

The cast for the newest Power Rangers series got revealed, and I hate that as soon as I saw the Pink Ranger's bio mentioned she was an internet journalist, I thought of Alya. I really hope she doesn't have the same problems as Alya in the series proper.

fhgdfkgd journalists have been ruined for us forever

Anonymous said:

Have you noticed that in many shows, especially shonen shows, people tend to hate the most "feminine" female character? Like, in Naruto it was Sakura, in Death Note it was Misa, in My Hero Academia it was Ochaco(although a lot of people like her so I'm not so sure about that last one?). The most hated character in one too many a shonen is almost always the "girliest" of the characters. They're always claimed to be useless or reliant on a man. And this is within the fandom who should know better!

It probably didn’t help with Sakura that she was decked out in pink hair; that’s an instant girl label for you (or lesbian label, depends on the person :P).

I don’t think I’ve been in enough fandoms to have such an experience but I definitely see where you’re coming from.

Anonymous said:

Rewatching Chat Blanc and Here To Help from Star vs. and hearing Adrien/Marco tell Marinette/Star that they always liked the girls from the beginning makes me so pissed. It's not that I don't ship Starco(I do! But I also like MarcoxJanna), although I don't ship the love square, but I'm so annoyed with writers finding the need to make the audience "know" that the main ship's characters "always" liked each other, as if that makes their love for each other more true, even if it's obvious they had other crushes? Like, what happened to Kagami Tsurugi? Jackie-Lynn Thomas?

News flash: Teenagers are allowed to have crushes on multiple other people before they find "the One". It doesn't mean their love for that "One" is any less valid. And if you still want to pull the "they always liked each other since they first met", at least make it actually TRUE!!! Don't have them have crushes on other people before moving on to the "official" crush and be all like "Oh, by the way, I liked you from the start," when it's dead obvious they didn't. You're doing a disservice to the romantic "false" leads.

I'm willing to forgive Star's crush on Oskar and Tom since she's not the one claiming she always liked Marco(even though she fell in love with him LONG before he fell in love with her, which is a nice turn of events), although her "love" for Oskar was merely an infatuation at most and I personally don't see why it was needed. Why don't they just say that their old crush didn't do it for them???

UGH, I remember watching that show and being so annoyed because I really liked Marco and Jackie and wanted them to be a thing but I knew that they’d pull Starco in the end because of course they would.

It also totally makes it seem as if love is the most powerful relationship there is (aros would like a word), which is so bizarre when there are so many “power of friendship” tropes. Like, a male and female lead have to get together because their relationship is the strongest.

The love square would hold so much more meaning to me without this love drama nonsense. It’s tiring.

Anonymous said:

Have you seen Yuki Yuna Is a Hero? If so, then what are your thoughts on it? I was thinking of watching it but it seems to be another "taking away the empowerment of the magical girl genre by making the girls suffer instead" type story. I read about it on TV Tropes and apparently it's a deconstruction that takes after Madoka Magica which already puts a bad taste in my mouth, but then I got to the examples and they're basically about how girls who get magical powers lose their body parts one by one and that the reason only girls can be heroes is because "young girls have always been sacrifices".

Not to mention it was written by a man and aimed towards a seinen(adult men ages 17-35) demographic, making it torture porn for adult men. Also, both the laconic page for Yuki Yuna and Madoka Magica say "Being a magical girl sucks."(though for Yuki Yuna it adds "Unless you have the power of friendship.") and to be honest that kills any desire in me to watch the show. Should I give it a chance?

Oof.

Yeah, after bringing it up to a friend of mine, it was instantly recommended of me not to watch it, so I’d say, “no.”

Anonymous said:

Let's make one thing perfectly clear. I, love, love, LOVE Sailor Moon. And I love the transformations, too. But if there's one thing I don't love, it's that their outfits all look pretty much the same but with different colors/different lengths of gloves and shoes and stuff like that, and that they all have the exact same body type save for the one fat girl who's made to look bad. I don't like Madoka Magica, but at least they all had unique/different costumes(but they still have similar bodies).

We’re not allowed diversity here. Take your different body types to a show that cares; we’re all about femininity here and how girls can be beautiful and powerful no matter wha--oh wait...

Yeah, I don’t care for the design in Sailor Moon, but that’s because skirts don’t interest me design-wise unless it’s really unique/interesting.

(note that there’s a lot of talk about tomboys, sexism, and TV tropes and such below, and then Madoka Magica after that; that’s basically the rest of this askplosion:)

Anonymous said:

I just saw the thumbnail for a video called "Why You Should Watch Princess Tutu(Yes, I Know The Name Is Stupid)". Umm, why is it stupid exactly? Because it's "girly"? What is with people thinking that in order for a girly show to be good they have to first separate the show from its girliness in order to enjoy it? It's like how men will say a show is good despite it being girly, or that since it's good it's no longer girly. Nobody does this for boy shows, because boy things are "never" stupid.

Princess = girly thing

Tutu = girly thing

girly things = bad

That’s the formula~ They should’ve called it something edgier and manly so that more people would be interested.

Anonymous said:

I'm wary of any woman or girl who says, "I'm a girl, but I'd rather read books about guys" or "I'm a female writer but I mostly write stories about male characters". I feel like those women are the "not like other girls/one of the guys" type who suffer from internalized misogyny and don't like female characters. I also feel like they're the type to not care about female representation, because in their minds, girls shouldn't care about female role models. We can enjoy males just as much! I do!

To be fair, they might also just be writing about shirtless men doing “handsome” things. ;P

But nah, I see your point. Me personally, I try to find a balance of writing both, but I do think there can be bias.

Anonymous said:

Do you think it's okay to like a ship but acknowledge that it wouldn't be safe or healthy or condonable in real life? Because I was just thinking of how a lot of people like some really "toxic" ships like Veronica/JD in Heathers, Yuno/Yukki in Future Diary, Madoka/Homura in Madoka Magica(although some people don't like it because of its toxicity/like it but don't realize it's toxic), almost any villain/hero ship, the list goes on. But they're aware of the fact that it's not a good standard for healthy relationships in real life.

An alternative I've seen is people having a crush on "dangerous" characters like JD and Yuno, or Karma from Assassination Classroom(there's not a single video on YouTube with him in it that DOESN'T have comments full of people saying they want Karma to father their children), but still being aware of the fact that the character is a) not real and b) wouldn't be a good partner if they were real(and that's assuming they even want to be with you. But sometimes there's a good reason for falling in love with a "toxic/dangerous" character.

Take Monika from Doki Doki Literature Club! She's obsessed with the player(not the player CHARACTER, the flesh and blood player themselves) to the point of killing off all the other girls and "trapping" you in a room with her where she talks endlessly about lots of things. But she's actually a lonely girl who's driven insane by the fact that nothing around her is real. She latches on to you because you're the only other person who's real and sapient and has got a mind of their own. You're literally her outlet to the outside world.

She's personally my favorite character in the game due to her actually being a more fleshed out, sympathetic(and not in the idealized "moemoe" way), and realistic take on the Yandere archetype(which, like many moe archetypes, is kinda misogynistic in nature in that it reinforces submissiveness; it's basically animes version of "woman scorned".). So it makes sense that people would sympathize with her and want her to become real, because all she's ever wanted was to be real and to talk to real people. Especially since she really did care about her friends and even returned them back to life because she saved their backup files, taking herself out of the picture.

I read a few "Monika becomes real and lives with you" fanfictions where she's really sweet and not at all crazy and cares for you a lot, and it's never felt the same as all those other "Yandere/psycho lives with you and is your girl/boyfriend" type stories precisely because those stories tend to just glorify possessive partners that kill your loved ones, drive your family members to commit suicide, and tear up your stuffed animals and dollies for the sake of it, rather than go into why they're so crazy for you, and often reinforce Stockholm Syndrome.

Plus, those "things" she talks about in the empty room? They're actually quite smart and make you think about the world for a bit. Not many "crazy" type characters actually get that. They're all about how "I'll slice your boyfriend open with an axe if you don't date me wa ha ha", and even if they're not, it's all the fandom will focus on, to the point of ignoring any and all other aspects to their character. Because that "crazy in love" aspect is the most appealing part of them. Maybe it's due to forbidden fruit/bad boy(or girl) appeal? Who knows? But I'm starting to wonder if it's still as bad if people recognize the problematic aspects of "crazy in love" characters or "dysfunctional" relationships.

Because if they recognize it's not real and don't really want it for themselves, then it's probably not much of a problem. But if they just go on wanting it to be real and never take a step back and go "wait a minute, this isn't real love; they're only together because he latches onto the first girl to show him any kindness and affection and she's a doormat who doesn't want something bad to happen if she leaves him", then that's bad.

Obviously it's not as bad as being in love with literal stalkers, killers, and rapists in real life(which is an actual thing, believe it or not, it's called hybristophilia), because fictional characters will never be real. Karma Akabane will never be real. Yuno Gasai will never be real. JD will never be real. But loving fictional characters who do those things and not realizing the problem with it may cause people to seek out real criminals, so it's best to separate fiction from reality.

I can’t help judging a little internally, but yeah, I think people can ship whatever as long as it has that “not in real life” scenario going for it. It’s ultimately fiction, so just because I don’t like it and/or think that it’s bad doesn’t mean other people can’t ship it.

Anonymous said:

I'm getting tired of all the racists on TV Tropes getting upset whenever a trope has a Japanese name. Whether it's Tsundere, Yandere, Meganekko, Genki Girl, Bokukko, or any Japanese anime name, people will complain that the trope exists beyond anime so it shouldn't have a "cute anime name", and that it should instead just be given a broader(read: English) name with the same meaning. Or that the site is too obsessed with anime. I'm just sick of people saying that anime names are bad.

The other thing is that we don’t actually have English words for certain things? I mean, the whole reason we say, “tsundere,” is because it says everything in one word. It’s easy.

(Also, people are aware the the English language isn’t some unique thing that takes no inspiration from other languages, right? It’s a mix of things, so accept that other languages exist because we literally wouldn’t have English without them.)

Anonymous said:

Have you seen the TV Tropes reviews for "My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic"? Holy crap, they are all a perfect example of the "Real Women Don't Wear Dresses" phenomenon that I have mentioned earlier and is so fucking present on this site. While some reviews praise the show for showing that "it's okay to be strong AND girly"(such as Hadles' review, which was really splendid), and that girl shows are no less good, others either insult the show by calling it "girly, saccharine, and stupid" as if "girly" is synonymous with anything bad about a show, or feel the need to distance it from its girliness in order to praise it as if a show can't be good if it's also girly.

Some people were saying things like "the show might seem girly at first, but it's actually a good, brilliant show with intricate plot twists, well-developed characters, and even some scary moments" and "the characters aren't just shallow girly-girls, they have depth!" So what, girliness is mutually exclusive to anything of value? One person even said that the Girl-Show Ghetto was the reason they couldn't get into the show or respect it. Just...wow.

And one review even said "Rarity's pretty tough for a girly girl!" Excuse me? Tough FOR a girly girl? So being a girly girl somehow automatically disqualifies you from being tough? Like "yeah, she's tough despite being a girly girl! Because girly girls aren't supposed to be tough."

It reminds me of the phrase "you're pretty for a black girl", which, while it's never been said to ME, I have heard other people complain about. It's sick and it hurts, just like this. And the few people who didn't say things like that still said that they couldn't get into the show at first because it looked "girly and vapid", before changing their minds and thinking that the show either proved their biases about girly shows wrong, no longer think it's girly since girly shows "can't" be good, or like it "despite" it's girliness.

And there were 70 reviews in all. 70 reviews full of this misogynistic "girly is bad" shit. So in conclusion nearly all the reviews on TV Tropes for My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic were along the lines of one of three things. 1) "This show is girly so I looked past it because girly shows are dumb." 2) "This show is good despite being girly/the characters are good despite being girly." and 3) "This show is not girly to me at all because it is well-written and captivating and girly shows aren't capable of such things."

Granted, some people there were able and willing to call out those who judged the show badly for being girly(or gave it the "not like other girls" treatment, but in show form), as well as people warning other potential viewers to get rid of any potential bias they may have against it due to it being girly. But there were still more people insulting its girliness as a reason they think it sucks or denying its girliness to justify their liking of it than the other way around.

I would've accepted it in the form of "If you think this show is bad because of its inherent girliness, then you are wrong!" or "This show is proof that a show being girly or aimed at girls doesn't and shouldn't take away from its value, as people seem to believe." or "A girl can be girly and be a strong female character.", but no, instead I got shit like this. It's especially insulting when TV Tropes is a site that devotes itself in part to critiquing sexist tropes found in media, only to turn right around and reinforce them.

I don’t read TV Tropes that frequently, so I fortunately missed out on all of these complete idiots who associate girly products with being bad.

(that “pretty for a black girl” comment makes me hate all aspects of “expectations of beauty” and it’s like--plz let these die)

I could maybe see an argument for criticizing a girls show for being “saccharine” if it were like, “girls’ shows written by men who clearly don’t know how to write girls are usually bad,” because then it’s not a criticism of girls’ shows exactly but rather who keeps being put in charge of writing them.

Anonymous said:

I get so annoyed when people get upset when confronted with the matter of female representation with "what's so wrong with one show having a male protagonist or mostly men and one/a few women? Why do we have to include women in everything?" These people clearly do not understand that one show doing it is one thing, but when multiple shows do it, it's an obvious problem. It's even worse when they turn around and diss shows with largely female casts for "not having enough men".

And as for people getting upset that "every show has to include women/come with a checkbox nowadays", as if it's bad to include women in your story...look around. Women make up 50% of the population. They're literally everywhere. What reason do you have to not include a substantial amount of women?

These people act like male is the default and women are a last resort. They see no problem with men dominating a cast because it's justified(despite that not reflecting real life), and yet having female characters, or, hell, a female-dominated cast(I know they also don't reflect real life, but there are still female-dominated spaces; most colleges are 2/3 female) is "unrealistic" trying to fulfill a quota, or a straw feminist agenda, as if characters can't be female for their own sake. You shouldn't have to be forced include women because their presence should be a given.

How many stories nowadays take place in the war front in Viking times or whatever? A lot of men just don't want to include female characters or see them represented(well) in media because those who are overrepresented tend to want to stay that way. They likely also have insecurities about their masculinity and are worried about female characters flooding their shows with estrogen and ruining the shows they love, because they can't relate to female characters or enjoy shows about them without negating their girliness(ie. This show seems girly, but it's actually good), since they're ashamed to associate themselves with anything feminine due to looking down on women or seeing them as bad.

Plus they want to be the center of everything so the second a show is about mostly women they get upset and claim it's "sexist against men" because it's not about them. Hence why bronies(bless their souls) are made fun of for the grave sin of enjoying a female-centric show with a female protagonist and largely female characters. Granted, there are some freaky fans, but there's still some sexism at play here.

This reminds me of a post I saw about a boy who actually looked up to female characters because you can pick a role model who doesn’t fit your gender. Crazy concept, I know. ;P

And yeah, that’s how it goes with equality. People who are best/most represented don’t want equality because they think it means less for them and they don’t want that, like a child who doesn’t want to share their cookies with everyone else.

Anonymous said:

I love TV Tropes, but if there's one problem I have with it, it's how often it associates femininity with weakness. The "Masculine Girl, Feminine Boy" trope is a good example of this, but the worst offender in my opinion is the Girly Girl With a Tomboy Streak, as most of the examples there are simply of girls who are strong-willed or fierce or can fight. Because you know, those traits are male. It's bad because there are ALREADY tropes for girly girls who can fight, Girly Bruiser and Lady of War (which TV Tropes even goes out of its way to SAY shouldn't be counted as a "Tomboy Streak" and yet does stuff like this), but it's also bad because ANY girly girl with these qualities, no matter how feminine they are otherwise, will be seen by TV Tropes as having to be at least somewhat tomboyish(read: masculine) in order to have those traits. Because regular girly girls are just weak and fragile and only want to be housewives.

It's even worse when you realize that much of these characters are created with the exact purpose of subverting the stereotype that girliness equals weak, and instead present a new and more empowering form of femininity: that femininity is strong and DOES NOT equal being a passive sex tool for men's pleasure. They're MEANT to show that being a tomboy is not the only way to be strong, and TV Tropes acknowledges that! But then they also go and claim these characters have "Tomboy Streaks" thus undermining the positive message by insinuating that you have to be tomboyish to be strong and that even girly girls have to have some level of masculinity to be deemed respectable and equal human beings, plus manipulating many impressionable folks into thinking strength and bravery is automatically tomboyish.

Worse yet, they often put a character here because "she's a big eater" or "she burps/farts a lot". Gee, I didn't know women had bodily functions? I didn't know women had digestive systems? So basically any time a girl shows that she is a human being and not a pretty, passive doll to be idealized, she is acting like a man. Because only men are fully-fledged human beings. Even outside of that, look at basically any masculinity-femininity contrast trope(Tomboy and Girly Girl, Sensitive Guy and Manly Man, Masculine Girl Feminine Boy, etc.). The "masculine" character will often be described as dominant, assertive, or outspoken, and the "feminine" character will often be called weak-willed, passive, emotional, and timid. It's fucking sickening.

The Tomboy With A Girly Streak trope is similar to its inverse in that a tomboyish girl will often be placed under this trope with their proclaimed "girly" streak being that she's tender or cries a lot or is soft spoken/a doormat. Because being girly is about not taking up too much space, not having any ambition or aspiration, and overall being a weak and shallow waste of space. For a site that claims to dismantle such sexist misconceptions, it sure does reinforce them just as much.

I almost want to stop using TV Tropes based on that and many other reasons, but it's a genuinely informative site that at least tries to avoid these stereotypes(plus it's edited by more than one person), it just doesn't do enough. For example, they made an awkward claim once that women can't fight while on their periods, and even have an Improbably Female Cast trope, as if it's abnormal that a cast could consist of mostly women and demands an explanation. To them, femininity=inferior.

And then in comes the “anti-girl tomboy” characters who basically do everything “girls don’t do;” glares at things like make-up and such, rolls eyes at the subject of “girl talk” or “romance,” drinks anything carbonated and spreads their legs wide open, etcetera.

Guys really don’t get the same version, at least not that I’m aware of? Like, at best, they don’t participate in “guy things” but that’s about it.

Having characters acknowledge it just makes everything more blatant, like if a woman comes by and the guys have to assure “DON’T WORRY, SHE’S LIKE ONE OF THE GUYS.”

It’s like a woman can only hang out and engage in “guy talk/time” (the concept of which I hate but that’s besides the point) if they can crush a beer can against their forehead.

Anonymous said:

OMG TV Tropes called Cirno the Ice Fairy from Touhou a "tomboy"? Why? Because she's boisterous and outspoken and not a "shy girly-girl" like Daiyousei! TV Tropes clearly believes that any girl or woman who is more than just a pretty face(which ALL women are, by the way), who takes up space, who has a dynamic personality and isn't just a weeping wallflower(which I'm not saying Daiyousei is) is a tomboy. Because she's acting like a man that way. Ugh, so over TV Tropes and their sexism.

And all the girls in Touhou(including Cirno) wear big frilly dresses anyway so it doesn't really make sense to see ANY of them as tomboys. But no, apparently any girl who is rowdy or tough or is active and not passive is a tomboy. You gotta be a tomboy to have attitude. You can tell they think so because they often say things like "strong, but still feminine" as if those things are opposites. They even described femininity as "weak and susceptible, vain and superficial". Like, ugh, kill me now.

I legitimately want to see a bullet point list here of what qualifies as a “tomboy.” Like, what, anyone who does one thing that isn’t “girly”?

Can we just throw out all of these terms; not even replace them, just throw them out?

(the below ask is incomplete - the first part is missing - but the asker clarified after I asked them, so clarification is below:)

Anonymous said:

Tropes is because I'm working on a story and I hope when it becomes famous that TV Tropes will write about it, but as it stands, I'm beginning to wonder that TV Tropes undermines most stories or plots to do with women one way or another. I mean, they constantly create tropes with the intent of calling out inherent biases, yet reinforce those biases themselves.

For example, they have a trope called Men Are Generic, Women Are Special, which points out the bias of male being the default, and yet on almost every other page on the wiki describing a trope, the default character will be a "he"(especially if it's a character trope), and whenever they mention "The Hero" or "The Big Bad" it's always a he unless it needs to be female(like if the heroine is in a romance story, or if the villain is a seductress). Female characters at best, can hope to be "The Heart" or "The Chick" of the group(which is often used in a demeaning way).

They even have a trope called "Improbably Female Cast" in which they point out all the instances of a story's setting having an "over-abundance" of women or girls with no men in sight, and claim that such stories have majority female characters when it is "unusual" "unlikely" or "lacks justification". Someone even suggested that the trope should be called "Where Are All The Men?" as if there's something inherently weird or wrong when a story is dominated by female characters, and like the story is in dire need of men, as if only men can be protagonists.

Even if the story has a justifiable reason for having mostly women, the fact that the writer made that choice at all is somehow deserving of mention. The mere fact that there's no "Improbably Male Cast" trope shows where the site's biases lay. They don't see anything wrong with a show being dominated by men with little to no female representation(ex. Death Note), and yet a show dominated by women(ex. MLPFIM) is somehow an anomaly and demands an explanation(even if the story does provide a reason for it, TV Tropes will still list it and presume it "improbable", as if to say "I mean, yeah, but there's no reason why you couldn't just make them mEn instead", as if writers who have mostly female characters are going out of their way to steer away from the "default" males.

In fact, they even admit that "Men Are Generic, Women Are Special" is their reason for having such a trope, but not the inverse. They even say that it's not the trope if the show revolves around a group of girlfriends with no indication of the gender ratio in the wider setting. So any time the females outnumber the males a story it's instantly labeled "improbable" because there's NO WAY any setting AT ALL could have more females than males. That's improbable! You see, this is why when women are 1/3 of the people in a given space men perceive it as "majority female" because they're uncomfortable with women having more of a presence than men.

We'll never have true equality if shows with majority female casts continue to be scrutinized under a microscope and assumed to be of inferior, lesser quality, just because there's no male characters around and it's women who are driving the plot. My problem isn't that they have a trope for majority female casts, it COULD be a testament to gender equality(ie., "there used to not be a lot of shows revolving around women, but now they're becoming increasingly common and well-known), but it's that they single out such stories as "unlikely" and thus discredit them.

And worse yet, they refuse to change the name, because they don't see a problem with it. So now every single show that doesn't have an equal number of males and females or more males than females is going to be called "improbable" by TV Tropes, because there's something(bad) to be said about shows that choose to make most of their characters women. Death Note and Naruto can slide by the radar of having loads of men, but Madoka Magica and Touhou are "improbable"? Because they have loads of women?

the clarification:

Anonymous said:

I started out complaining about how TV Tropes says that boys will watch Star Vs. The Forces of Evil only because of Marco(who's great, but it comes off like boys can only relate to boy characters) and that the show only looks girly but has a deep complex plot with scary moments(as if a show can't be dark and complex and still be girly; girly=shallow, watered down fluff), hence my complaint about TV Tropes undermining girly shows or anything "girly".

Yup, exactly like I said.

Good stuff in “girly” things is the exception. Good stuff in “manly” things is expected.

Which is funny when you consider stuff like “edgy” reboots of things. Like, Disney remakes their original movies and that usually means making them worse (like in Beauty and the Beast - god I hate that remake - where the objects are going to become complete objects when the last petal falls even though the enchantress is explicitly a good person and it comes off as super cruel and unnecessary), but that seems to just be its own breed of bad I guess.

Then there are terms like “chick flicks” and “soap operas” which are usually women-oriented and tend to be considered dumb/over-dramatic.

You know, not like MEN shows with their sexualization of women, guns and MEN things.

Anonymous said:

Remember what I said about TV Tropes being sexist? Well, they also have a trope called "Girly Run". Like, that's literally the name. Girly. Run. Thankfully the first example(which is under advertising due to the forms of media being in alphabetical order) is an aversion from the blessed Like A Girl campaign, but...just reading the page lets the casual-yet-bold-faced sexism speak for itself.

why can’t things just be like the Sims where characters can wear whatever the hell they want and have any personality without any judgment or criticism from other Sims?

(more Madoka Magica talk - and ONLY Madoka Magica talk - below because I’ve unleashed a monster apparently:)

Anonymous said:

I know you don't like Frozen but I saw a theory somewhere that Elsa's powers came from making a contract with Kyubey and her wish was to impress her sister and anyway I can't stop rolling my eyes. This isn't(just) because of my distaste for Madoka Magica compared to my love for Frozen, but if Elsa's a Puella Magi then why didn't she become a witch long ago? How did she make it to adulthood? How did she become emotionally stable? And why do her powers have to come from a negative source?

I think it might just be people looking for excuses to do their crossover fanfiction which--yeah, I’m not crazy about that.

Anonymous said:

Did you know that Cristina Vee voiced Homura Akemi in the English Dub? It's very noticeable, especially during the Cake Song, where I could've sworn she sounds exactly like Marinette. By the way, I'm still not sure what the hell was going on in that song. Could you please explain it to me(if you know)?

Nooooo don’t make me think of Homura when I think of Marinette!! fjkdgjnfdg

lol but seriously, I think the Cake Song is just meant to be one of those “weird but meant to be dEeP” things that shows do sometimes to be cool (not a criticism technically; depends on how it’s used).

I think the cake is the labyrinth and Homura saying that she’s the pumpkin makes her the odd one out since pumpkins are associated with scares and halloween, so it’s “foreshadowing” her being the witch. The things that they say they are... they’re like--ingredients for a meal, but not a cake, so the the cake is the labyrinth and they’re the things that would go inside it.

Homura and Madoka are the only ones who really get descriptions to go with them. Homura says that she’s “full of seeds” (despair?) and Madoka implies that it’ll bring sweet dreams once she’s sliced (which is either referring to the godly freedom given to magical girls before they turn into witches, or foreshadowing Madoka being “split” after Homura stops Madoka from purifying her, leading to Homura’s “sweet dream” of what it’s like when everything is “normal” after her reality twisting).

Anonymous said:

May I ask what you don't like about Kyoko's character? Is it because she was the stereotypical "jerk with a heart of gold"? Or because the writer made her flip from hating Sayaka and wanting her dead to suddenly dying for Sayaka even though she barely knows her compared to Madoka(because the writer doesn't understand how girls' relationships work)? For me it was a mixture of both(though I still don't mind KyoSaya!), but I still liked her enough, she just felt a tad stereotypical. Your thoughts?

It’s both. I just don’t like characters like her at all and the runtime of Madoka Magica can’t maintain all of these characters, “developing” them, and then killing them off. I don’t even have any time to get attached to them because they’re dead within a matter of a few episodes.

And it’s always like, “okay here’s this character’s backstory to make you feel emotionally attached--HA NOW THEY’RE DEAD. SEE??? WE TOTALLY GOT YOU.”

Like, no, you didn’t. I didn’t even have time to care about THEM, much less their actual death.

Anonymous said:

What about the girls in Madoka Magica? Do you think they're strong female characters? Now, obviously the show is not feminist, since it misses the whole point of Magical Girl, which is to empower girls and show them that girls can be powerful and feminine and can find strength in solidarity with each other by instead making them suffer and fight each other and have their power come from their emotions, which are exploited and turned against them because women can't be powerful, but still...

It’s the same way I feel about Marinette; there are some who I want to say are strong characters, but the writing is ready to just kill them off at any time and bully them for essentially having emotions.

Basically, imagine a male writer hands you a character sheet and is like, “AW YEAH CHECK OUT THIS sTrOng FEMALE CHARACTER I WROTE.”

Like, even if they were right, their ego and obnoxiousness about the whole thing, along with what they actually do to said character, makes you not want to give them any credit for it.

Anonymous said:

How do you think Puella Magi Madoka Magica would be different if they had magical boys as well(which can mean either gender-bending canon magical girls or introducing original magical boys)? Do you think the show would be better? Worse? Or would it be just about the same?

Personally I feel like having magical boys would be good and bad; good because there would be no more of the “teenage girls are hysterical” crap and it wouldn’t just be girls suffering because they can’t handle power, and bad because it would still be problematic(for stereotyping all teens as over emotional and deserving to be taken advantage of by the Incubators, and it would still be about kids suffering in a genre meant to empower girls, having some of them be boys wouldn’t help that much).

I also feel like Gen Urobuchi would still make the girls suffer more and have them be more emotionally and mentally unstable. Holy crap it feels like he read up on Aristotle’s views on women while making this show.

It would at least be more balanced I guess? Like, teenage years are a fragile time, so it would make sense for both girls and boys to be taken advantage of. I still wouldn’t like it but it would be nice to point out, “there are emotional boys as well as emotional girls.”

Anonymous said:

Literally all the problems with Treatment of Marinette, Chat's Entitlement(TM), and the sheer sexism in general(ex. all the teenage girls and even women villains being catty and bitchy, while the male villains are cool, suave, and calculating; female villains being irredeemable scum while male villains are "not as bad as they seem", etc.) could all be solved if the show just got some more female writers! You know a show isn't feminist like people claim if none of the writers are women.

That's what I love about Friendship is Magic; the show is written and directed by a woman and actually has a variety of both male and female writers! Plus, Lauren Faust explicitly identifies as a feminist and claims her works are meant to empower women and show them that there's no wrong way to be a girl. And the show reflects that! There's no "token girl" who checks all the boxes; the females have realistic flaws, diverse personalities, and let's not forget ARE THE HEROES!!! Not to mention that the cast is actually PREDOMINANTLY FEMALE. Do people have any idea how refreshing that is?!

And that's why whenever people claim that shows like Madoka Magica are feminist when it's written by men for men while also dismissing actually feminist shows written by women for women as "sexist" or "demeaning", I cringe inside. It's not just what the show looks like, it's what the people behind it say.

And Gen Urobuchi is not a feminist. At all. Just listen to the things he says about the girls, that they're terrorists who are full of hubris and destined to be alone, and that actual magical girl shows weren't his inspiration beyond the show's cosmetics, he just based it off of porn games. He only watched those shows after making Madoka Magica and admitted they were weird to him. Well, maybe they wouldn't be weird if you actually used them as inspiration! Why are you even making magical girl? So basically he admitted that all the suffering the girls go through is because it's his fetish.

I knew I wasn't imagining things when I saw all those weird shots and angles(ex. zooming in on Sayaka's thighs and breasts when she collapses to the floor, Madoka gripping the bed sheets between her legs when agitated, zooming in on Kyoko's ass when she takes her phone out of her shorts' back pocket, it's all for cheap titillation). And yet people keep saying the show is devoid of male gaze and sexism and why? Because apparently men know how to represent women better than women themselves.

you said “Madoka gripping the bed sheets between her thighs” and it gave me an immediate flashback, I hate it

I find that it’s a similar thing with gay anime/manga; I’m more likely to trust a F/F story if it’s written by a woman since they’re less likely to sexualize everything.

Anonymous said:

Homura in Puella Magi Madoka Magica: But Madoka, what's going to happen to you? You'll end up all alone here forever! You'll never be able to see your friends and family! Homura in Rebellion: Haha, screw Madoka's friends and family! Only I am worthy of Madoka's love! That girl belongs to me! MWAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!(I'm sorry for the over exaggeration, but this is how it felt for me.)

Apparently, it was better for Madoka to just have all of her memories and powers yoinked away.

Sayaka is Madoka’s right hand girl so idk why Homura has this idea that she needs to sAvE Madoka. The fact that this whole thing comes out of a misunderstanding (because Madoka doesn’t have her memories) is so irritating.

Anonymous said:

I actually love Madoka Magica, but I completely agree with you on the hysterical women thing. Why couldn’t they just have... both magical girls and magical boys? Like, just mention that magical boys are a thing? They don’t even have to change anything but that, they don’t even really have to show it, just be like “yeah there’s magical boys too but that’s not really what this story is about, it’s about our characters we have here”. I don’t know, feels like that would have at least helped stuff.

Yeah, they don’t have to bother having the magical boys around. Just to know they exist would be enough. I mean, the fact that the focus is on them would still be bothersome (they’d probably do a thing where each girl represents a different emotion that is easily manipulated/easy to control), but it’d be something.

Anonymous said:

One thing that weirds me out when people are talking about Madoka Magica is when people refer to the characters as "little girls". Like, excuse me? They are not "little girls". They are teenagers! All of them are at least 14 years old! I hate when people call them "little", it's just so condescending and infantilizing, especially when the show does enough of that to them already. After all, no one makes that mistake with the heroines of Lucky Star and Hidamari Sketch(who are also drawn by Aoki)!

I feel like it’s the equivalent of when people call women “girls,” y’know? Sort of a “treating females as younger than they really are,” which is probably what gives guys the feeling that they have control.

For a gender that claims to be so dominant, certain ones sure have to delude themselves a lot to make themselves feel better.

Anonymous said:

I was thinking about what you said about Puella Magi Madoka Magica passing the Bechdel Test, and if it counts if there's barely any men to talk about. And while I do agree that it counts, I also feel that it doesn't really matter much in shows such as Madoka. This isn't even about feminism, this is about the fact that if a show has next to no men in it at all then it's pretty much a given that they won't talk about them since it would be impractical to talk about something that doesn't exist.

So because of that, I think there should either be an alternative test which only applies to shows that have a significant or equal number of male characters and yet the ladies still pass the test(making it feel more "real" since the option to talk about men is there), or the test should be rewritten entirely so that it only applies to shows in which the cast is either equally gender-split, or has a majority male cast/significant amount of males even if the females still outnumber them.

Reminds me of how, on TV Tropes, someone suggested that there should be a "Weak" and "Strong" Bechdel Test, where "Weak" refers to the women talking about something other than men because it is literally what's relevant at the moment(such as two female police officers discussing how to catch a female killer), thus applying the Bechdel Test there seems semi-void, while "Strong" is when they could talk about men but choose not to(ie. two female students talking about their grades during lunch).

And just to clarify about the "Strong" one, when I say they could talk about men but choose not to, this isn't to imply that female characters should talk about men, or that something's wrong with them for not talking about men, just that there's nothing stopping them from doing so, but they choose to talk about something unrelated to men. I think this strategy is much better than the test we have because it makes conversations between female characters seem more real since they're discussing things other than men of their own volition, rather than the non-male-centered talk being because they have to talk about it in-universe. I say that because The Bechdel Test serves to show that women's lives don't and shouldn't revolve around men, and they can talk about other things if they want to, but if the conversation is because they have to(like the example I gave), that gives sexists the opportunity to go "Yeah, well, they're only talking about it because it's their job!"

But if the female characters talk about things other than men of their own free will(as in, when the option is still there), then it shows that women really do have their own free will to talk about their own things and that there is NO REASON to not pass the Bechdel Test in today's day and age(I keep hearing people claim the test is stupid and doesn't matter, but then it should be easy to pass). "Oh, but if they had the choice, they would talk about men." No, because men don't sit around and talk about the women in their lives all day so why should women talk about the men in their lives all day? And to the people saying these types of tests are getting in the way of their "creativity", well, now that we know that you think female representation is stupid and something you have to be forced to do, we don't have to listen to a word you say. ;)

I like the idea of adjusting the Bechdel Test for other circumstances and expanding it as such!

You could also extend it to things like sexualization, because--I mean, having two female characters who talk to each other probably doesn’t mean much if they’re half-dressed or the writer wanted to make them bisexual for “The Fanservice.”

Anonymous said:

To be honest deconstructions of Magical Girl confuse me. There are some good ones out there(such as Princess Tutu and Revolutionary Girl Utena, so I know they're not all just torture porn, my only gripe with Utena is the implication that girls who take on the feminine "Princess" role are weak), but at its heart Magical Girl has always dealt with death, gore and pain just as much as female empowerment.

It makes me feel like the people who write these stories haven't seen magical girl and think it's all just sunshine and rainbows and that just because it's "girly" it's vapid and has no substance, and since the only way to have substance apparently is to be "dark", they go "screw it with all this princessy magical shit! Let's make our show dark instead!" When in reality if they had just sat down and watched a magical girl anime, they would understand that this is not the case.

Not to mention that many of them tend to have fanservice and the idea that magical girls have to suffer, so instead of empowering young girls, they end up misrepresenting the genre and turning it into fetish fuel torture porn for adult men(Madoka Magica and Yuki Yuna are very good examples of this; the writer of Madoka says that the girls are terrorists and full of hubris and that he was inspired by porn games). It's not that you can't deconstruct the genre at all, but it's almost never done tastefully and the magical girl themes are just a cover used to explain the suffering the girls go through. :(

Another thing about magical girl deconstructions is that they often reinforce patriarchal themes, like that girls shouldn't want things for themselves and that genuinely doing something for someone while also having ulterior motives that help yourself are a BAD BAD BAD thing, no matter how ultimately harmless they are, even if they help everybody involved. They also tend to reinforce Tall Poppy Syndrome and portray the powers as harmful or a bad thing, implying that girls shouldn't have power.

Honestly, I think there can totally be even more substance in magical girl anime that doesn’t have to resort to “make it eDgY” (which I feel like is a slippery slope that can easily come off as lazy); for example, I’d really enjoy seeing something deeper to magical girl powers than something like, “oh, this magical girl happens to have the power that fits their personality,” such as a magical girl who has a power she feels she doesn’t fit but it’s a matter of perspective/seeing herself differently, or a magical girl who does have the powers that “fit” her personality - like a “fiery” girl with fire powers - and the weaknesses in her powers correlate to the weaknesses in her personality, so she has to either iron out those issues or find workarounds, as true “perfection” isn’t possible nor practical, which is something all the girls have to accept despite whatever pressure they’re under.

.I dunno, I like lore and powers revolving around metaphors. It’s fun.

Anonymous said:

About what you said in regards to "no pueri magi because it doesn't hit the shock value threshold enough", I remember this interesting comment I saw on an article called "The Problem With The Dark Magical Girl Genre"(which I would totally recommend checking out, by the way!) which said that shojo magical girl and seinen magical girl both embrace a different philosophy regarding strong female fighters. In shojo, they tend to embrace femininity as a strength and show girls that they have the power to do whatever they want and undergo dangerous professions. But in seinen, which conveniently enough is more likely to "deconstruct" the genre(ugh), rather than admiring the girls and supporting them in their endeavors, the girls are meant to be pitied(often to the point of infantilization) when bad things happen to them, with the fact that they are girls serving to make everything worse. It operates under the idea that girls are fragile, in need of protection, and shouldn't be fighting at all.

That's why deconstructions like Madoka Magica and Yuki Yuna don't sit right with me, and also why I don't consider them feminist series. People can say whatever they want about Sailor Moon and Pretty Cure, but ultimately they also had dark and dangerous themes(to the point where some kids had nightmares), but ultimately allowed the girls to rise above the hell they went through and find the strength in them to save the day. We feel bad for them when they die, not because they're moe girls, but because we were actually given the time to form a connection with them and want to see them succeed, rather than just be expected to pity them because they're cute manipulated girls. That way, when they ultimately save the day, it's all the more satisfying. Princess Tutu was a deconstruction that actually went about it in the right way, because the girls eventually found the courage to defeat their enemies in a way that made sense. Why the hell is it a "good" thing to subvert that?

No clue, but I basically agree with everything there. I mean, Madoka Magica’s entire stick is basically that all the girls are like “uwu” in terms of the style (with Madoka being the “cutest” of them all) and then being put in this dark and edgy plot+setting; it’s for both the shock value and the “contrast” of having “moe” characters be thrust into these situations to essentially die.

And the conclusion doesn’t end up being satisfying (at least to me) because the villain doesn’t have emotions so he’s just like “owo” (seriously, I wouldn’t hate on Rebellion so much if Kyubey had been given emotions rather than going crazy; Homura can basically do whatever she wants and it was SUCH A MISSED OPPORTUNITY) so it ends up being more about the journey getting there like wow look at all the sUbvErSiOnS and dEaTh we had along the way!

Because at the end of the day, it’s still like, “the girls give into their ‘hysterical emotions’ in the end basically no matter what,” even if they get saved by Madoka in the end.

Anonymous said:

Do you remember, in Madoka Magica, when Kyubey said that humans would still be living in caves if not for the Incubators? First of all, keep in mind what Incubators do. Their entire purpose on this earth is to feed off the emotions of young teenage girls as they spiral into despair as a result of their delusions of power. Like wow, let that sink in. Apparently humanity's advancement relies on the exploitation of women. We are literally the punching bags of the universe. Isn't it lovely?

No! You see--we’re so important to the world! If we weren’t emotionally exploited, the world wouldn’t be the way it is now! :D

(kill me)

Anonymous said:

I once saw a tag on tumblr that read "The only good magical girl anime is Madoka Magica because it's gay, and even it has problems." Like, ugh. Really? Has this person not watched ANY other magical girl anime? Such ignorance. So many things wrong with that statement that I can't--and WON'T--even begin to unravel here.

MADOKA MAGICA IS NOT GAY AND I’M SO TIRED OF PEOPLE CLAIMING IT IS

s T O P

I DON’T EVEN CONSIDER YURI ON ICE TO BE GAY. MADOKA MAGICA? NAH MAN.

Anonymous said:

Do the girls in Madoka Magica even have transformation phrases? You know, like how Marinette says "Tikki, spots on!" or how Sailor Moon says "Moon Prism Power! Make-up!" or how Iris in LoliRock says "Iris! Princess of Ephedia!" etc. But in Madoka Magica, there doesn't seem to be any of that. At least in Yuki Yuna they pressed a button on their phones. But how do the Puellae Magi even transform? Just goes to show you how Gen Urobuchi knows next to nothing about the genre he claims to deconstruct.

Transformation phrases are magical and cool and you can’t take that away from me.

Anonymous said:

I had a shower thought about Madoka randomly in bed last night: If a Magical Girl's Soul Gem loses control over its user when 100 metres or further away from it, that meant that when Homura got Sayaka's Soul Gem back for her, Sayaka should've regained consciousness once Homura was less than 100 metres away, even if she didn't have her Soul Gem yet. I also love to ponder why on Earth Homura would even bother retrieving Sayaka's Soul Gem if she only cares about Madoka and Madoka's well-being.

I think it’s just a complicated process of Homura trying to make sure Madoka doesn’t fall into despair herself (in a non-witch way) and is convinced to make a wish.

Anonymous said:

The more I think about it, the more I realize that Sayaka really got the worst deal out of the whole thing. While her story may seem more "mundane" compared to the others(she just wanted the token Ill Boy osananajimi to like her back), she's the only one who somehow isn't brought back when Madoka recreates the universe, loses her Soul Gem on more than one account(and on the second, she starts decomposing and her crush sees her and calls her a monster because he thinks she's pretending to be the REAL Sayaka), is supposedly the weakest Magical Girl, getting swiftly taken out by both Kyoko AND Homura(the latter of which doesn't even make sense, if her body can heal why was she taken out so quickly?), takes a long while to show up in Magia Record, and Gen somehow finds it suiting to single her out as the one who is "destined to die" every time she makes a contract. Apparently the series director wanted Sayaka to live/be brought back, but Gen refused because it just had to be edgy.

Of course, MEN are allowed to have wish fulfillment power fantasies and dream like the sky's no limit and aspire to be all they want to be, but the second WOMEN try to be the strong ones, the powerful ones, or dream of something for themselves and others, they have to learn a lesson about how unrealistic their fantasies are and how they'll never live out their dreams. Hence why Sayaka puts the blame all on herself, saying that she's not a hero and was stupid and selfish the whole time.

"token Ill Boy osananajimi“ dfhbgjhfdgdfg

It was a real shame because I liked Sayaka somewhat (not saying much but still) and she was such a predictable one to go. Like, “oh wow, an angst-y anime all about shock value? so basically the best friend is dead then with no chance of survival.”

I think I do remember being told/reading somewhere (so don’t quote me) that Sayaka is the one that’s hardest to keep alive in the games, so you have to work hard for it. It just sucks.

Anonymous said:

Yet another thing that bothers me about Puella Magi is how the show frames the young ladies as if everything is their fault even though they have no idea what they're getting into because the person who makes the deal doesn't even bother explaining shit to them and all the show's attempts at deconstructing is just taking lighthearted elements meant to empower girls and show them that they can be brave and strong as well as feminine and make them dark and morbid.

Like, I get the whole "having young girls fight is a little unrealistic" aspect, but most magical girl shows actually do touch on that! Only difference is that over time, they become stronger and better at fighting(which is only to be expected, whether you're a teenage girl or not) and become more competent along the way because the whole genre is about FEMALE EMPOWERMENT.

Not to mention how the show seems to forget that the Incubators are villains and even seems to put them in the right and the girls in the wrong, what with the claim that they rationalize with the girls they make contracts with like sentient human beings(yeah, because emotionally manipulating young girls and literally taking their souls out of their bodies and making them liches without their consent is definitely treating them like sentient human beings), and that they always follow up on their end of the deal whereas it's the girls' faults their wishes go sour because they never wish for what they truly want(I'm sorry, but I simply DO NOT buy that. Homura and Mami outright wished for what they wanted. Their wishes went sour because the plot "decided" that they should have wished in a different way; plus, you're telling me that if Sayaka had outright said she wished "for Kyousuke to love her back" that the show wouldn't just "make" him mind-controlled or have Sayaka "outgrow" her feelings by the time he falls in love with her, all the while making it out to be "her" fault he's so heartbroken because she was some kind of tease or whatever, further demonizing girls' sexualities?).

Plus they explicitly claim that every woman in history was a magical girl and that without them, humanity would still be in caves(as in, humanity wouldn't be able to progress without the oppression and exploitation of women, and women can't gain power without going insane because female power is some unhealthy, inhuman, infernal thing.). Even if we take this all as a reflection of patriarchal society(which I highly doubt it was, if anything, it reinforces it), all it does is imply that the oppression of women is the natural order of things, required even.

As for the girls themselves, they routinely beat themselves up and the show makes no effort to tell them they're wrong(up until the massive cop-out of an ending), like how Sayaka's last words before becoming a witch are literally her "admitting" that she was "stupid, so stupid" for wanting a boy to love her and be healed of his infirmity. It just seems like we're supposed to think "you know, maybe the Incubators aren't that bad!" while ignoring that the girls are being treated like the disposable trash bags of the universe. This show already does the magical girl genre dirty but treating it like everything the Incubators did was necessary and like it's all the girls' faults these things happened to them in the first place is the icing on the stale, sour cake. Nothing like a giant heap of sexism to help get you through your day. :/

I’ve noticed this a lot in Miraculous, but Madoka Magica somehow does it worse; this “one (supposed) mistake leads to all of these consequences you never saw coming.”

Like Ladybug calling Lila out. We know that Lila’s pettiness in “Chameleon” shows that it wouldn’t matter whether Ladybug yelled at her or not; the simple fact that Marinette opposes a liar led to Marinette getting expelled, even if only for a while. Then there’s “Miracle Queen” and all that garbage that came with it.

These two shows put their teenage girls through hell for having emotions and there’s no way to undo it.

Anonymous said:

Honestly, the Madoka Magica fandom is basically the magical girl equivalent of "not like other girls" type women. I can't say I'd be surprised if they didn't watch a single magical girl show other than Madoka because they're all "stupid and girly but this one is edgy and dark" just because those shows are written by women to inspire other girls and show femininity as a strength while Madoka Magica is written by men for men who want to see young girls suffer without any actual feminism.

Like, let's go through their arguments one-by-one to prove that they don't hold up. They love to say that Madoka Magica is better than other Magical Girl shows because "it's dark and edgy and shows the downsides to being a Magical Girl unlike other shows where it's all sunshine and lollipops". First of all, other Magical girl shows also got very dark. Princess Tutu and Utena are also "darker" takes on the genre, but even more lighthearted shows like Sailor Moon and Precure had scary moments.

The only difference is, with them, they still managed to critique problematic aspects of the genre and actually provided ways to improve it, while STILL managing to keep their target audience(FEMALES) in mind, without condescending to them and infantilizing them. And they still showed the girls being empowered and overcoming the darkness.

In Madoka, there's none of that, there's no actual critique of the genre because Gen didn't have the respect for it to do his research, it's aimed at men so it doesn't keep female viewers in mind by definition(which is also another reason why it can't be a deconstruction; deconstructions should be done FOR its target audience), and the girls are constantly put down and treated like Moe crybabies by the narrative even when they're not(cause, you know, teenage girls are "emotional"!). And it doesn't offer ways the genre could improve, it just takes a female-empowering genre and twists it to be this system of oppression that the genre is meant to avoid.

Magical Girls tend to have a very strong focus on girls empowering girls and all that awesome stuff, and yet when Madoka and Mami form a special bond and Madoka encourages Mami by telling her she's not alone? It makes her big-headed and overconfident and she gets devoured by Charlotte. See what happens when girls rely on each other? Madoka is Sayaka's best friend, but gets pushed aside in favor of Kyoko, who later dies for Sayaka because girls who want to help each other had better be prepared to suffer and die for their beliefs. Sayaka loses everything, which happens to include her best friend, over a guy. And the whole witch process means that any female solidarity that could be found in the show is thrown out the window since the core concept of the show is girls being forced to brutalize and kill and exploit each other.

People act like Madoka is Yuri when it's not, Gen was asked if Homura really was in love with Madoka and if Kyoko really was in love with Sayaka, and what did he do? He beat around the bush. Naoko Takeuchi and Kunihiko Ikuhara(the latter of whom also worked on Sailor Moon R; woah, what a surprise) both admitted that there was gay love in their stories, yet people act like Madoka is super progressive regarding homosexuality when it's just implied and those shows were MUCH more open! Doesn't stop people from claiming the show is "honorary yuri" and saying that the meaning of "yuri" should be broadened to include any close bonds between two female characters, whether or not it's actually romantic, AND favoring the show(and HomuMado) above actual yuri shows that are made to appeal to women. If all this were actually valid, Sailor Moon would be yuri as hell.

I hate seeing people fap over this show and act like it's so revolutionary for recycling things that the genre was ALREADY DOING, because I know full well that the ONLY reason it gets this wide acclaim is because Magical Girl shows have traditionally been written for women and this show is aimed at men. That's literally it. Because nothing a woman writes is good enough, especially when it dares to go against patriarchal constructs of femininity as weak and docile by portraying it as cool and awesome. It doesn't matter how cool and dark and diverse and inclusive and complex Sailor Moon and Precure and Princess Tutu and Utena are, they're written by/for women with the intention of empowering them so they're automatically invalid, cheap, happy-go-lucky crap where nothing bad ever happens and anything those shows try to do ought to be discredited because they don't appeal to men like they should so what's the point?

But the second a MAN comes in and intrudes on a female-dominated space by doing all of those things but with a very shallow understanding of how they ought to be executed, people are all over it because a MAN did it and now it's interesting and respectable! I have seen so many people say that they don't like Magical Girl because it's girly and shallow and stupid, but then they praise Madoka for things that the girly and "shallow" shows have already done! Men are always taking away things meant for women and distorting it to fit their patriarchal views and yet when they do it it's somehow better and anyone who complains is simply a whiny straw feminist!

The fandom does it all the time, someone complains about the show and why they don't like it and find it sexist, and the response is always "you're just not smart enough to understand it; you have no idea what you just watched". Because obviously since it's made by a man it's sooo much smarter then the traditional sappy stuff made by women. That's why it's so annoying when others praise it at the expense of other works in the genre: they know their reasons for liking it are, more often than not, rooted in sexism against female-aimed and female-empowering works, so the only way they can praise it is at the expense of said works, hence them being just like girls who claim they're "not like other girls" when there's nothing wrong with girls being feminine and in fact many of those girls may like the same things you do!

So while I'm not saying there's anything inherently WRONG with liking Madoka, I DO have a problem with people who act like it's better or more serious than other shows in the genre and simply discard them on the grounds that they're "for girls", since they obviously didn't watch them.

me when I initially watched Madoka Magica: I don’t get why this exists.

me when I learned it was written by a man: ohhh, now I get it.

I also take issue with people comparing things that are made for different demographics. Like look, I don’t care if you enjoy your angst display over here, but also maybe don’t compare it to the stuff not even made for you unless you’re willing to get into a fight over it?

It comes off wrong, like they have to trash on stuff because it wasn’t made for them, y’know?

Anonymous said:

Honestly, I am so sick of people saying that Magical Girl shows are sexist or anti-feminist, when all they do is portray girls being awesome and powerful while also being feminine at the same time, because "Well in Japan it's actually gender conformity because it's telling girls they can only be strong if they're feminine! You're just projecting your Western values onto an Eastern work!".

First of all these shows are made by women for women and often have explicit feminine messages that you literally cannot miss unless you are simply blind or trying not to see them. And they also tend to have a very strong focus on women supporting or empowering other women. Just think of Sailor Moon, which constantly gets this "criticism", and yet there's an episode where the girls explicitly protest against a villain who claims women are all shallow and useless and can't do anything without men's help. Would Naoko Takeuchi put that in the show if she weren't a feminist?

And then there's the fact that she has said that one message she wanted the female leads to convey was to value their relationships between other girls because girls are strong and don't need to waste time depending on men. There's also the fact that most Magical Girl shows tend to treat the powers as something special and awesome that's unique to women and girls, paired with the coming-of-age themes present in the show, and you get a magical equivalent of female puberty, with magic mixed in.

But no, all of that gets thrown out the window because they dare to be "feminine" while doing all of that stuff and the Japanese are forcing their girls to be girly through Magical Girl propaganda. And I just HATE when people act like anything feminine must be societally forced onto girls, rather than girls just happening to like them. In addition, stating that they are simply reinforcing gender roles by being feminine is such bullshit because the whole purpose isn't about conforming to patriarchal femininity, it's about reclaiming femininity.

Too often, femininity is associated with being weak, powerless, helpless, submissive, docile, vapid, catty, bitchy, petty, vain, stupid, the list goes on. Magical Girl saves femininity from a bad reputation. It shows femininity in a new light, as something strong and powerful and, hell, even admirable! It's about telling girls "Hey, you can be strong and powerful and smart, but you don't have to be a tomboy or act like a man to do so". Girls are always told they have to act masculine to be taken seriously because the only way to be respected is to be like a man, which is an indirect way of saying that only men deserve respect.

Magical Girl does away with all that in favor of showing the feminine as something innately powerful, and yet naysayers MISS the point and say that it's just stereotyping girls instead. To see people claim that Magical Girl forces girls to fit a feminine ideal to be respected is just disappointing. It's supposed to be a female power fantasy for young girls that shows them as the ones being powerful and empowering each other.

Take how in Sailor Moon the heroine often says something along the lines of "I won't let you take advantage of girls", which Wedding Peach went on to imitate. The purpose of the genre is for girls. To empower girls. So why on earth would they show them fitting into a "male" mould of power? Do these people think that any time women are shown acting distinct from men that they are doing something wrong?

And the hypocritical part is that nobody pisses on male-oriented anime for reinforcing a harmful narrative to boys that they have to be masculine to be valued and respected. Of course they don't! Because being "masculine" is never seen as a bad thing to be. It's assumed that masculinity is always strong and good and awesome and there's nothing wrong with boys being forced to be masculine because you're supposed to want to be masculine. You're not supposed to want to be feminine.

So of course people will shit all over Magical Girl for embracing, empowering, and reclaiming femininity, because it's not supposed to be that way! You're not supposed to be feminine and also be strong. You're supposed to deny your identity as a woman and assimilate into the boys' club because only boy things are worthwhile! And they cover it up by saying that Magical Girl forces girls to be feminine, when in actuality the WORLD forces girls to be MASCULINE. Magical Girl doesn't force girls to be feminine, It ALLOWS them to. Do you see the difference there?

Another thing I'd like to bring to the table is that the claim is racist and here's why: The claim that "Magical Girl shows are seen as feminist in the US for portraying femininity as a source of strength but not in Japan because it's telling girls they have to be feminine"...what does that mean? Japanese people can't be feminist? All Japanese people are sexists and think girls have to fit in a certain role? Do Japanese feminists HAVE to be anti-femininity? Are there literally no Japanese people who think you can be feminine AND strong(who also obviously identify as feminists?) Because it seems hella sexist to insinuate that Magical Girl shows are sexist because they're made in Japan and they don't believe you can be feminine AND strong there.

While there is some credibility to it since Japan IS, by and large, much more strict with gender roles, hasn't it ever occurred to these people that these types of shows exist to counter that belief? Not only that, but it implies that people aren't allowed to have opinions on works that aren't made in their culture, and that anyone who sees those shows as feminist are just projecting their Western beliefs onto an Eastern work. And even worse, when people say that, they don't have the same opinion of Western Magical Girl works.

Just look at LoliRock, Miraculous Ladybug, Winx, W.I.T.C.H., Star vs the Forces of Evil, and countless other European/Western Magical Girl works. Where are the people saying "They get their power from femininity and that is sexist!"? Nowhere! They're silent! Even though those are very much like Magical Girl works from Japan(although I don't think the genre originated from there), while still being original.

It's because people think that any media exported from Japan is automatically sexist and demeaning and so anything they create, no matter how empowering their intentions, gets twisted into something that's somehow toxic or unsafe for girls to watch. But when Europeans do the exact same thing nobody complains. Because Japan is not allowed to do anything empowering whatsoever; something's always wrong with it, apparently.

So that's why I have a problem with people who say those things; it's so problematic because they think they're being all open-minded and aware/respectful of other people's cultures, but all they're doing is reinforcing negative stereotypes further. It's kinda like what I said earlier(in another ask) about how people love to praise Madoka Magica for being a unique, dark, and interesting take on the genre when all it did was rehash elements of the genre that already existed, strip away the female empowerment, and gear it towards grown men, which is why people like it more. How about instead of speaking for Japanese people you let them speak for themselves?!

I would also like to add that there’s even a limit to women acting masculine because that’s still “not enough” for those kinda of men who would promote those beliefs. Women need to act more masculine to “be taken seriously” but then you have men who’ll tell them to “dress less” or whatever.

I think what it comes down to is that they want women to not be “emotionally taxing” with all those dAmN eMoTioNs of theirs (unless it’s for the sake of their angsty magical girl anime where the girls suffer for having emotions), but they also need to look pretty and be sexualized.

We can’t win.

#other: ask and answer #other: non ml talk

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hopesbarnes · 5 years ago

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Black Swan (2)

Summary: Y/N used to be a Russian spy under the code name Black Swan. But that was a lifetime ago, now she’s a part-time avenger, dance teacher, surrogate sister to Natasha Romanoff, and trainer to new Shield Agents. She’s come a long way from the days of killing targets and being tortured. But when someone from her past comes around will she be able to ignore her history anymore? Or will she end up falling in love with the only man her sister ever loved?

Warnings: Mentions of past hydra abuse

A/N: Italics is a flashback! Taglist is open, send an ask. Make sure to check out my 900 follower writing challenge in my bio!!

It had been an especially gruesome day. Training seemed to last all morning and it felt like every inch of you was bruised or broken. It probably was. Luckily, you were given the afternoon off for ‘studies’. It happened very little that you were given any time without being watched, so everyone took advantage and relaxed.

Natasha came up to you with a pleading look, “Пожалуйста, прикрой меня (Please cover me)” she said.

“Куда ты идешь (Where are you going?)” You asked, despite the fact you were pretty sure where she was headed.

She smiled sweetly, “на свидание с Джеймсом (On a date with James)”

She was so naive when it came to him. From the moment they met, she was infatuated. “будь осторожен, не попадись (Be careful, don’t get caught)” I said before adding “повеселись (have fun)”.

You wanted to protect her from heartbreak, or something worse. But at the same time, she deserved to be happy. She ran away and you sighed. Nat was head over heels for the man, and you just hoped it didn’t interfere in training or get her in trouble.

James had arrived an hour ago and looked the same as he did over two decades ago. It was as if time had frozen and you were years younger. But if you’re being honest, Natasha and you looked the same too. All that genetic testing and drugs pumped into you slowed your aging amongst other things.

Memories started to come back when you saw him, some more pleasant than others. In particular, you remembered one of the times Tasha snuck out to see him. She used to be so innocent before the world hardened her. Seeing him was even harder on her. She couldn’t even stay in the same room as him. She left moments after he arrived with a shaky “I have to go do something”. Everyone seemed fine with that, but you knew she was freaking out inside. Sisters always knew when something was wrong.

You mistakenly called him James before he mentioned that he preferred to be called Bucky. When you had said his name he looks at you with confusion, as if he’s trying to search his brain for a memory that he’s unsure exists. He says he has few memories from the past, and all of them were right before he was ‘wiped’. You don’t mention the red room where he spent some of his missing time. Probably a blessing in disguise, all that happened there was bloody. Not worth remembering if it could be avoided.

After some polite small talk with Steve and Bucky, you excuse yourself to find Nat. You’ve seen her at her worst and know when she’s not alright. And this was one of those times.

You knock on her door, but don’t wait for an answer to enter the room.

“What if I was naked?” she yells out annoyed when you find her attacking a punching bag viciously.

You laugh, “As if that would stop me!” she joins you in laughing but continues to brutalize the bag. “Hey, what did that bag do to you сестренка? (sis)” You tease.

She huffs in annoyance. “Does he remember?”

“No, but when I called him James he looked like he was trying to. It might only be a matter of time,” you reply honestly. She should be ready for her past to come back.

“Duly noted,” she says.

“I’m guessing by the state of this bag you remember though,” you say pointing at the bag missing stuffing.

“Not hard, no matter how many times they cleared my head he always came back. It’s like he’s forever etched in my brain in grave details.” You nod and she slumps down against the wall. You go over and sit next to her and she rests her head on your shoulder.

“I really did love him at one point. In fact, I think he’s the only guy I’ve ever loved.” You feel wetness on your sleeve but don’t dare to say that aloud.

“Oh honey, I know,” you say stroking her hair. “But he’s not that person anymore, and neither are you.” She hums in agreement with this.

“Do you think we can keep this between us. It’s not in any file and you are the only one who knows.” You’ve only heard her this broken a few times before.

“I was never going to tell anyone, любовь (love). You keep a million things quiet for me, and I a million for you. That’s what sisters are for.” You both just sit in silence with her leaning against you for a while.

A few weeks had gone by since Bucky moved in. He got into a schedule, and the initial awkwardness died down. Tasha still couldn’t be in a room with him for more than 5 minutes, but she’s slowly coming to terms that he isn’t going anywhere.

You started putting together the girl’s solos for competition and finished the large group before moving on to a small group of the younger girls. You also started to train new SHIELD agents, a compromise you made to get off the field more. They all picked up skills easily and were quick on their feet. You were only needed for one mission at that time, and it was a quick recon that only took three days. Child’s work really.

It was a Thursday afternoon and the rest of the team was doing some press to promote the image that Avengers wasn’t just a group of superheroes who sometimes ruined cities. This left you and Bucky alone in the compound. You tried to avoid him, but he was everywhere.

In the gym? He was working out. In the library? He was reading a book. In the garden? He was planting seeds. By the time you ran into him in the kitchen you had run out of excuses for why you kept leaving. This meant having to stay sitting on a stool and pretend you didn’t feel insanely uncomfortable around him. You resented him so much, but it’s hard to resent someone who doesn’t remember you at all.

“I know you,” he says frankly, pulling you from your thoughts. It takes a moment for the words to completely register.

“Uhm yeah? We’ve been living in the same building for a month now.” You hear yourself say, praying that it’s what he is referring to, but knowing it’s not.

“No, I knew you. From when I was the soldier, right?” You sigh. You knew he would remember eventually but you just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon.

“Yeah, we knew each other,” You confirm. He frowns as if this was the harder of the replies you could give.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It wasn’t a particularly fun time for me. Plus, I uh- hated you. Probably still do. It’s unclear, you returning is super confusing for me.” He laughs at this, and you’re left confused. Who chuckles when you admit to hating them?

“You think this is confusing? Try not remembering anything but snippets of your life! It sucks!” he's hysterical now. As if you had just told the funniest joke ever. “Russia right? I remember the cold.”

You nod, “Да, добро старый отчизна (Yes, good old motherland).” He laughs again.

“не очень по-матерински, да? (Not very motherly, huh?)” This makes you join in with his laughter.

“So, you hate me?” he asks.

“Hated,” you correct. “I’m unsure how I feel about you now.”

He looks apologetic at this and says “I’m sorry for whatever I did to you.”

“It’s not like you hurt me, and I know it wasn’t you. God, they were horrible,” you tell him before asking, “What do you remember about then?”

He thinks for a moment before saying, “Not much. Lots of blood.” He says shrugging, blood was sadly a normal occurrence in both your lives. “A building with people telling me what to do. The cryo. But I remember you, and other girls. Why?” Deciding that this would take some time, you get up to make some coffee.

“Hold up, let’s get some coffee and I’ll tell you about back then.” He nods.

After pouring two cups of coffee, both black you guide him to sit on the couch with him and get comfortable.

“So around 30 years ago both my parents died. I was 18 years old and had no idea what I was doing, or how to protect myself.” he looks astonished by this.

“But you look 25!” he exclaims.

“You don’t look 100,” you add and he makes a face in agreement.

You continue with your story. “I met a man and fell for him. Thought he was the love of my life. Turns out he was just looking for someone to turn into a spy for the Russian government. Within three months I was put in the red room or Красная комната as it was called. It’s where they trained their female spies. They took me because I was a ballerina. It had created was discipline, strength, and flexibility. All things you want in a spy.”

“Steve said you were a dancer,” he says, “You don’t need to say anymore if you don’t want to. I get it.” You shake your head.

“I need to do this,” you admit to him. He nods encouragingly.

“We also were experimented on. Injected with their versions of the super-soldier serum. Close to what they put into you. They did other medical things to make us into the best spies. I was put through the ‘wiping’ a few times, but it never stuck for the important stuff, just made little details fuzzy. We trained to be silent and deadly. They had me be part of the national ballet, as a cover. In between shows I was sent on missions to kill people, or steal information. Nobody ever expected a girl who wore tutus in front of thousands of people. I got the tag, Black Swan, after the ballet and it stuck.”

You pause to take a sip of your coffee. “That’s where I met Natasha, she was also part of the red room. She was a few years younger and I tried my best to protect her in any way that I could.”

“Where do I fit into this?” he asks.

“You trained me. In all combat-related areas. Taught me how to shoot a gun, where to hold your arms to snap someone's neck. How to tackle someone twice your size.” He looks ashamed of this. “I know it wasn’t you, and if you weren’t there it would have been someone else to train me. It’s not the entire reason I hated you but it’s a part of it.”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Your past still haunts you. “Is that why Natasha leaves the room whenever I’m around?” He asks. You nod. “Thank you for telling me all of that, I know it’s hard.” You smile back at him.

“Okay! On that note, how about we watch a movie. Ever see Mean Girls?”

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#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #marvel #bucky barnes fluff #black swan

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exploring-in-space · 4 years ago

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Aching to Come Home

Robron Week 2020 Day 3: Criminal

Summary: After getting out of prison himself, Aaron meets Robert through a prison penpalship.

Note: This is a little bit of a cheat, but I think it still kinda counts haha also this is 100% a real thing, I spent a good chunk of time scrolling through a website about inmates wanting to start a correspondence!

Word count: 4300

In the end, it’s Aaron’s counselor who encourages him to start a pen pal correspondence with someone currently incarcerated. Aaron has just recently been released after spending a year long stretch for GBH, and he’s been seeing his counselor to transition from being in prison into society.

Aaron had heard of people striking up friendships and even relationships through prison pen pals. It was all a bit crazy if you asked Aaron. Still, one particularly bad day, Aaron sits himself down and scrolls the website his counselor gave him. Some are explicit in their desire to have more than friendship, making Aaron exit out of their bio pages quick enough.

Around the time Aaron is about to give up and tell his counselor to do one, he stumbles on a bio page unlike any of the other bios.

The man honestly looks like one of those white collar criminals that Aaron always hated. Especially given the fact his occupation before was an estate manager. But as he reads through the bio, he’s shocked to read that this man, Robert, is carrying out a life sentence. It’s not like other profiles were shy about stating the reason for being incarcerated (in fact, Aaron had quickly learned that some people are actively attracted to people depending on their crime…).

It’s just...this man doesn’t look like a killer. The picture chosen for the bio is not the typical kind of picture that others had posted. Most were pictures of them in the prison yard, or pictures from before prison. Robert’s wasn’t like that. In fact, Aaron couldn’t even tell if it was taken while he was in prison or if it was a pre-prison photo.

Aaron’s curiosity is too great and it compels him to grab a sheet of paper and start writing. He introduces himself and tells Robert he’s writing because he just got out of prison himself. He doesn’t know how much to put in the letter - Aaron doesn’t necessarily want to spill his guts to a total stranger, but he does share his age and why he’d been sent down. The letter looks sloppy with Aaron’s scrawl and he’s ready to just toss it in the bin and call this whole idea stupid and pointless.

But he glances at the site again, and looks at Robert’s picture. He doesn’t know how to explain it, but the piercing gaze of Robert’s eyes somehow convinces him to just send the silly letter.

So he does. Posts it on a Friday evening and Aaron proceeds to get hammered that night, trying to erase the embarrassment he feels at doing something so out of character. Monday morning, he meets with his counselor for his biweekly session. Tells her about the letter he sent and they talk about it for a while.

“What do you hope will come from this?” She asks, crossing her legs and sitting up to take a good look at Aaron’s reaction. He shrugs and picks at his fingernails to ease his nerves.

“Dunno.” Aaron finally answers with a sigh.

She looks at him thoughtfully before carefully uncrossing her legs and leaning forward. “I think you do.”

Aaron doesn’t say anything and she doesn’t press him any further. Lets the statement lie between them, and it works. He thinks about the letter for the rest of the day and well into the week. The picture of Robert’s face burned into his mind.

The rest of the week has Aaron working at the garage. Cain had offered his old job back when Aaron had gotten out and while it took a few days of Aaron debating it, he finally accepted the offer. It’s good to get under the bonnet of different cars. It allows him to not dwell on the letter he sent.

Weeks pass and Aaron doesn’t get a letter back. He stupidly checks the post everyday and gets disappointed every time there’s nothing. He’s not sure why he’s so disappointed. Maybe because deep down, Aaron knows the reason for sending the letter was because he wished someone had reached out to him while he was inside.

It’s around the time Aaron has given up on the idea that Robert would reply that he finally receives it. The front of the envelope shows a neatly written penmanship, the opposite of Aaron’s. Heart racing, Aaron tears the envelope to read the letter.

It’s short, but Robert thanks Aaron for the letter and tells him he hopes they can continue to send letters to one another. He asks Aaron a few questions about himself and offers that he’s from Hotten. It’s an unbelievable coincidence and it makes Aaron wonder if this was fate. He shakes the thought away, the idea too ludicrous to entertain. But he immediately responds to Robert’s letter, eager to share that he’s from Emmerdale.

After the initial lag in response time, Robert starts replying to the letters much more quickly. They can manage to get letters from one another in about two days’ time and Aaron starts to learn about Robert. They touch on some of the things on Robert’s profile: the fact he’s taking classes to get a degree inside, the son he has named Seb, his family that still live in Hotten. And things not part of his bio: the fact he’s bisexual, the worry that he’ll most likely die in prison. It’s incredibly intimate and personal and makes Aaron want to share his own secrets to him.

Aaron doesn’t ask about the reason for Robert’s incarceration - he doesn’t want Robert to feel as though that is his defining characterization. Aaron is of course still curious, and wants to know. But he also respects that part of Robert that remains private, they still don’t know each other that well, despite some of the secrets they divulge to one another. It’s after two months of steady letter sharing before Robert offers it to Aaron unprompted.

I killed a man because he raped my sister. I hit him with a shovel and he later died from it. I don’t regret doing it, I know if given another chance, I’d hit him again. But I never meant for him to die. I pled guilty before he died, hoping that showing guilt would mean a shorter sentence. I hope you don’t think I’m a monster. But I figured it was time you knew.

It’s concise, and it doesn’t beat around the bush. He lays it bare for Aaron to either accept or not. He thinks about Gordon...about Liv. And he knows he would have done something similar if Gordon had even thought about laying a finger on Liv.

The frank honesty makes Aaron want to return the favor. He quickly pulls some paper and writes about Gordon. It’s emotionally wrenching to write about it. Yes, he’s talked about it, and yes he’s testified about it before a court. But to actually write the words? It’s harder than Aaron could imagine. But he does it, and he sends the letter to Robert, more nervous than when he sent that first letter.

Robert's response comes the usual two days later. Nerves fill Aaron as he opens the envelope, afraid of the disgust, or even worse, the pity. But what's in the letter is neither, much to Aaron's surprise.

Thank you for telling me about your dad. You’re braver than I could ever be. Aaron smiles at the words, at the loopy letters of Robert’s handwriting. He talks a little about prison life and answers some of the questions that Aaron had asked in his last letter. But then, there at the end of the letter, written in smaller letters than the rest of the letter:

I want to hear your voice. Can we arrange for me to call you one of these days?

Aaron had never considered them speaking on the phone. Perhaps because it would make this relationship a little more real. He's successfully compartmentalized his letters to Robert and the rest of his life. He knows it's unfair, Robert has nothing else besides prison. Robert has never even asked for a photo of Aaron.

He’s given vague descriptions of himself, like about the time he had gotten a haircut and the barber butchered his fluff at the top of his head. But he knows that’s probably the extent of Aaron offering his personal appearance to Robert. At least Aaron can sometimes go onto that website and gaze at Robert’s face.

You’re braver than I could ever be. Aaron wonders how true that is when he’s hesitating so much to reply and accept Robert’s offer to speak on the phone. But he worries that maybe this correspondence is getting too serious, that Aaron could cross a line he once scoffed at. He likes Robert, quite a bit to be honest. He’s afraid if he accepts and speaks to Robert, it might awaken something Aaron’s kept buried for the past couple of weeks.

Despite all these fears, he still writes his mobile number in his next letter. They arrange for Robert to call Aaron on a Thursday evening, after he’s had his tea and Robert is free to make his call. He sits at his table, squirming and feeling excited and nervous at the same time.

When his phone finally rings, he scrambles to answer the phone, his heart hammering. “Robert?” Aaron asks when he picks the phone up, nerves coiling in his stomach.

“Aaron?” A breath Aaron had been holding exhales when he hears Robert’s voice. It’s soft yet rich. Its timbre sends a small shiver down Aaron’s spine. His voice sounds like it was made to say Aaron’s name.

“Hiya.” Aaron finally says when he realizes it’s been silent on both ends.

“It’s good to hear your voice finally.” Robert confesses softly, and Aaron doesn’t think he’s ever going to tire of this voice. He wonders why he even hesitated for them to speak on the phone.

“Yeah. Yeah, you too.”

It’s silent again, both of them missing their turn to speak, and Aaron starts to worry that maybe this was a mistake. That they should have just stuck to writing letters.

“So...ah, how are you?” Robert finally asks, and it’s tinged with awkwardness. They’ve traded secrets with one another and now they’re struggling to hold a real conversation. Tension that had been tightening in Aaron’s chest eases and he just laughs at the absurdity of it all. It’s infectious enough to cause Robert to laugh alongside Aaron. It becomes less awkward after their laugh and they pick up right where they left off in their letters.

The hour Robert gets is gone faster than Aaron wants it to be. He doesn’t want to hang up, instead, he wants to talk to Robert until his voice gives out. But he knows how other prisoners get when it’s their turn, so they both reluctantly start to say their good-byes.

“We should make this a regular thing, us chattin’.” Robert suggests. Aaron pauses slightly to consider it, but it has Robert quickly adding, “Along with our letters.”

“Yeah. I’d like that.” Aaron agrees with a smile that hadn’t left his face since they’ve started talking. They waffle about for a few more minutes, still not hanging up, before Aaron hears commotion on Robert’s end and the phone call abruptly ends.

Not that Aaron would admit it - he’s not that soft - but letters and phone calls from Robert start to become the best part of Aaron’s life. The little tidbits he gets to share with Robert and the fact he understands the fears Robert has while being in prison are some of the truest moments Aaron has ever been.

Chas comments on Aaron’s improved mood one day, cornering him in the back of the pub.

“What’s his name?” She prompts.

“You what?”

“The bloke that’s making you smile. C’mon Aaron…” She whines, and clasps her hands in a pleading manner.

“There’s no bloke.” Aaron lies, but his mind invariably wanders to the latest letter Robert had sent that sits on his table. She just rolls her eyes and shakes her head, muttering something about how Aaron never tells her anything and he just huffs a small smile. A secret smile. Reserved only for Robert, despite him never seeing it on Aaron’s face.

It goes like that for months, Aaron learns more about Robert’s family, who he rarely sees because Robert doesn’t want them to feel guilty about the fact he’s in prison, about Seb who is growing bigger every time Robert sees him and how Robert worries how unfair it is for a child to see his father in prison. Robert becomes a person who Aaron knows intimately, more than several exes he’s had before. It should scare him, this feeling of affection for a man he’s not properly met. But it doesn’t, he allows himself to feel this flick of happiness through the most unconventional way.

Until one day, Robert is asking whether Aaron would like to have visiting orders.

The question freaks him out. Not because he doesn’t want to meet Robert in person - quite the contrary - but because of the trauma he faced when he was in prison. The memories of Jason and his gang still haunt him months after being released. Robert’s question stuns Aaron and he ends up not responding to it. Days dissolve into weeks and guilt becomes the reason Aaron doesn’t pick up his pen to respond.

Robert calls one evening, and Aaron lets it go to voicemail, shame blooming into his chest. He watches his phone ring and sees when the voicemail notification pops up.

“Hiya Aaron. Hope you’re okay. I haven’t heard from you. I hope I didn’t freak you out with my offer. We can forget about it if you want. I’m sorry.” Robert’s voice is sad, and Aaron’s guilt is all the worse. He’s made that beautiful voice sad.

Aaron lets the guilt fester for a few more days before he finally picks up his pen and finally writes to Robert. He wants to tell him the reasons why he hadn’t responded, why he sometimes falls asleep to Robert’s name on his lips. But instead, he just accepts Robert’s offer for visiting orders.

He has continued his biweekly visits to his counselor, and he tells her about the visiting orders. The visiting orders that now sit on his table, coming a week after Aaron accepted Robert’s offer.

“Are you excited to meet him in person?” She asks curiously.

“I think I love him.” Aaron confesses to her, wringing his hands, wanting to dig his fingernails into his skin and draw blood.

She doesn’t say anything at first, “Do you think he feels the same way?”

Aaron looks at her, and there’s no judgement on her face. It’s what he’s always appreciated about her, the professionalism of masking her emotions. He thinks of the letters, how each one seems longer than the last one, the phone calls where Robert sounds so animated talking to Aaron and the reluctance to hang up, and the sadness of his voice when Aaron didn’t pick up.

“I don’t know.” Aaron replies honestly.

The day Aaron is off to the Isle of Wight, Chas stops him. “Where are ya going?” She asks, eyeing Aaron’s overnight bag with barely concealed curiosity.

“Meeting some mates, that a problem?” Aaron snipes back. He’s still not told her about Robert, thinks she’ll disapprove and throw a fit. To be honest, he’s not really confided to anyone about him and Robert. If Adam had still been around, then maybe he’d know. But it’s a secret that Aaron wants to keep to himself because the last thing he wants is to share Robert with anyone.

“Fine, keep your secrets. But I’ll get it out of you one of these days!” Chas says with a harmless pout.

“Not likely.” Aaron replies, hoisting his overnight back over his shoulder and leaving before Chas can ask him any more questions.

He takes a plane down to the Isle of Wight. The flight is relatively quick, but he couldn’t justify driving the six hours. It gives him a short time to reflect on the path his life has taken. He once thought it was mad that people could fall in love with convicts, maintain actual relationships. And now here he is, six months after he posted his first letter, on a flight to meet someone who clearly means so much to him.

Nerves prickle at Aaron’s skin when he finally is admitted into the visitor’s room. He’s been on the other side of the table so many times, and it of course reminds him of all the bad memories that made Aaron turn to a counselor in the first place. But he tries to put on a brave face, and awaits Robert’s arrival in the uncomfortable chair.

It takes a few moments before prisoners start filtering into the visitor’s room. A few people have come out before Aaron shoots up from his chair when he sees someone who resembles Robert’s photo. His hair isn’t styled in a quaff like the picture, instead it falls a little flat. He wears the prison issued clothes and he looks older and more tired than he did in that fresh photo. But he’s still the most fit person Aaron has ever clapped eyes on.

“Aaron?” Robert asks hesitatingly, standing before Aaron. He's taller than Aaron expected him to be.

“Yeah. Hiya, Robert.”

A sigh escapes Robert, almost in relief or happiness. He grins and actually pulls Aaron into a hug, something Aaron had not been expecting.

“It’s nice to finally put a face to you.” Robert says when he pulls away. “You’re not what I was expecting, to be honest.”

“Disappointed?”

Robert’s eyes drag up and down Aaron’s body in a blatant way that makes the hair on the back of Aaron’s neck stand. Finally his face erupts into an arrogant smirk, “Not at all.”

Aaron flushes red, but takes the flirtiness in stride. They sit down and ease into a harmless conversation. Robert asks Aaron about his trip down, and then it morphs into less small talk and more of their usual banter and conversation.

At one point, Robert laughs at something Aaron says and reaches out to touch Aaron’s hand. Aaron immediately retracts his hands away from Robert, not wanting him to touch him. Robert’s smile drops instantly, a frown replaces it.

“Have I misunderstood us?” He asks quietly, the hurt palpable when all Aaron wants is to touch Robert’s face. The question, though tinged with sadness, dispels Aaron’s initial misgivings before coming down here: Robert sees something between them.

“No, not at all.” Aaron quickly reassures, placing his hands back on the table as a show of goodwill. Aaron hesitates, but eventually tells Robert about Jason. How he was relentless in hounding Aaron, somehow sussing out Aaron was gay, and the torment he faced in the year he was in prison. “I don’t want to give you any hassle.” Aaron finishes with a mumble.

Robert reaches out again and gives Aaron’s hand a squeeze, and this time Aaron doesn’t pull away. “Aaron. I’m in here for murder. Do you think I care what other people think of me?”

Aaron chews at his lip, looking at their linked hands with a sort of fascination. Eventually though, Robert does pull away, before any notices. Robert could talk a big talk, but the fact of the matter was, they both know they need to be careful.

When the guards give a five minute warning, Robert looks forlornly at Aaron, “I want to see you again.”

“I’m here for the weekend, can come back tomorrow, if you want.” Aaron tries to say nonchalantly, but he knows Robert sees right through him.

He smiles and inches his fingers to Aaron, but doesn’t dare to touch him. “I'd like that.”

Aaron visits again the next day, but the visit only serves to confirm Aaron’s fears: he wants more. The phone calls, the letters, the short hourly visits, it’s not enough. He’s promising to visit Robert in two months' time, but it’s not a promise that warms Aaron. He wants to see Robert everyday, lay next to him, trace his face, tell him his deepest secrets and fears, wake up to seeing a disheveled and rumpled Robert. He wants it all.

Life starts to revolve entirely on Robert after that visit. They speak almost daily on the phone, letters still being sent, and Aaron has made it part of his routine to go down to the Isle every other month. They have fights, of course they do. Robert thinks he’s being unfair to Aaron, making him ‘waste’ his life away on someone who might never get out. But if there’s one thing Aaron would admit about himself, it’s that he’s loyal to a fault.

Still, when about a year passes after Aaron first visits, his optimism starts to take a slight toll. How can he keep this up for another twelve years? Aaron wants more. Needs more. Hour long phone calls, letters, and the times he can get down to the Isle...it’s not enough. It can never be enough. Aaron is in love with Robert, but he’s not so much as even kissed him. The hugs they give each other when Aaron visits last a bit too long, but neither of them care. Aaron can’t even write the depth of his feelings to Robert, for fear the letter falls into the wrong hands.

He sometimes feels like a fool for ever penning that first letter. But how can he truly believe that? Meeting Robert, no matter the limited capacity it's been, has been the best thing that has ever happened to Aaron. But Aaron isn’t a patient person, and twelve more years of longing and wanting the impossible dismays him.

When Robert calls that evening, Aaron tells him as much. “I can’t keep this up, I want more.” Aaron whispers it. He knows the phone lines are tapped and he worries confessing this.

“I know.” Robert replies, voice just as soft. “But I’m appealing my sentence. My barrister thinks I can be out soon. They’re confident the appeal will come good.”

Soon. The word holds so much promise but so much ambiguity at the same time. Still, it may be enough for Aaron to hold on. “And then what?”

“Then...maybe, we can give this a proper go, if you want.”

“Then you come home, to me.” Aaron agrees, clutching at his phone uncaring about anyone who might be listening.

“To you.” Robert agrees faintly.

Aaron breathes out a sigh and he’s never felt more in love. It’s probably mad to even try to consider the possibility that Robert can get out early. But hope is a foolish man’s salvation, and Aaron has never considered himself smart.

In the end, it takes another year of fighting appeals and convincing a judge that the initial sentencing was too severe when it was involuntary manslaughter. But Aaron is next to Robert the entire time, supporting him through their letters and the visits down to the Isle. Their phone calls start to become less frequent as Robert speaks to his barrister

The year is filled with Aaron meeting Robert's family in Hoften, shyly introducing himself as Robert's boyfriend. Robert's sister, Vic, welcomes and cries when Aaron explains how the two of them met. He takes to Vic instantly, and he understands better why Robert did what he did. He gets to meet Seb, who is every inch Robert’s son.

But most of all, he gets to tell Robert he loves him in their own language. They’re both careful, but their love for each other is evident in every word in their letters, and the knowing looks and smiles they share when they get to visit in person.

The day Robert is finally released, Aaron stands in the front of the little welcome party that has congregated for Robert’s release. He’s holding five year old Seb’s hand with Diane and Vic standing behind them. Aaron’s heart is in his throat and nerves coil in his gut.

The minutes feel endless and they torment him, feeling as if time has stood still. But finally, finally, Robert walks out of the prison and he takes Aaron’s breath away. Robert is wearing civilian clothes, the first time Aaron has ever seen him in them, and acting on pure instinct, he drops Seb’s hands and rushes to Robert. Robert mirrors his actions and they meet in ght middle, embracing each other, pressing against each other, almost as if to imprint themselves onto each other. There’s tears falling down Aaron’s cheeks that Robert is wiping away, Seb is shouting in glee and Aaron soon feels Seb’s little arms wrapping around the pair of them.

Robert bends down and picks Seb up, giving him a kiss on the cheek. Seb ducks his head into Robert’s neck and Aaron crowds father and son, petting Seb’s hair and looking into Robert’s eyes. Robert leans forward and finally kisses Aaron, and he melts. Seb wriggles in Robert’s arms, Diane and Vic are crying but Aaron doesn’t pay them a single mind, absorbed entirely of the feeling of having the love of his life kiss him for all he’s worth.

“I love you.”

Aaron’s not sure which one of them says it, but it vibrates between them and it’s the truest statement he’s ever known. He knows Robert will similarly have to go to counseling like Aaron, and he’ll have to now adjust to a world where people might judge Robert for the sins of his mistakes. But that’s neither here nor there, all that matters is this moment of feeling Robert’s lips on his own.

Despite the long road they may face, Aaron knows they can weather it, because they’re together and Robert is coming home to Aaron.

#robron week #rw2020 #robert sugden #aaron dingle #robron #robron fic #my writing #my edits #My stuff

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